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tarjapearce · 8 months

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Crimson Crown (Pt. 2)

Royal! AU Miguel O'Hara x Princess! Reader

Special thanks to @pinkiemme for this amazing fanart for this fic ❤️✨

WARNINGS: Historical background, lil bit of research on medieval fertility rites, made up holidays, fluff until angst comes. Tension, arranged married, slow burn, sibling bonding, Peter B. Parker being a lil more serious.

Summary: A hopeful moment gone sour.

Pt. 3

Ever since mankind has had use of reasoning, wars have been waged over the simplest motives. Power display, conquer the prospect of new and better lands, and of course egoistical purposes such as spite, bloodshed, hatred, revenge, and love.

In the far lands of Enethor, war was part of the staple list of things to do if you were part of the land. The four kingdoms that shaped the continent had been long time witness of how entire bloodlines died and rebirthed. How whole kingdoms separated, only to be conquered later by those with enough power to rewrite history at their will.

Enethor was separated by four kingdoms. Erunia, Therelia, Onerim and Arachne.

Erunia, the land of iron and silver. Home of the artisans that had taken the kingdom's warriors abroad in their distinctive red wooden ships. Cradle of silver refinery and alchemy. The ultimate underwater explorers.

Monarchy in Erunia settled with the most recent bloodline, The Fisks, in charge of King Wilson Grant Fisk. A bloodline that had been reigning for the last fifty years, and made the once forsaken by war kingdom into one of the most technology advanced right after Arachne. Even though it's ruler was deemed ruthless, he was more a cautious, cunning and strategic man whose only god was money.

Erunia's economy was based in exportation, silver refinery, iron smithing and of course, private security. Meaning, mercenaries for hire to anyone with enough money to afford them.

The latter of course was a loud secret between the other nations, most acted according their righteous morals, but secretly sent their servants to hire Fisk's services. The little business had earned him the name of 'Kingpin'. He was a feared yet somehow respected king.

Theleria was the smallest of the four. The Land of medicine, arts and gold. Rich soil, perfect for growing a vast array of medicinal plants, and perfect for gold minery. Even though its land was reduced, the bloodline was one of the eldest and purest among the other kingdom's monarchies.

The Blanchards. Settled two houndred years ago, they had watched the fall and rise of nations, in the expense of their own territory. In long forgotten history, Therelia owed half of Erunia's land and Onerim's islands. But as The Rapture War ensued, Onerim's islands were released from The Blanchard's reign.

The Rapture war took place in the Rapture sea, a cemetery of ships and long honored and forgotten warriors, and after another twenty years in war with Erunia's old sovereign, another part of the territory was lost. Theleria had spent the last houndred years trying to recover from the blows the belic conflicts had put the kingdom in.

The Fallen Reign, the other nations called it. The last and final blow that weakened them considerably was the most recent war against Erunia. Fisk had made his intentions of taking over the West Passage for himself, but the prince life was the higher price The Blanchards had to pay to keep it.

The passage role was to connect Erunia and Arachne as well the merchant ships that came from other lands. Without it, a good part of the economy would slowly but surely collapse. Theleria produced the finest aesthets, fabrics and medicines for the continent.

Its festivities had been the reason many people from other lands to come and celebrate and also increase the tourism affluence. Paint Day, would be a day to honor the aesthetic, the fine arts and good taste. Many would give hand crafts to their beloved, as a token of love and appreciation.

Some even had the common belief that if that person gave a token back, meant a good omen for a future together.

Fertility Day honored the future parents. The streets would be dressed up in wreaths of mugwort, mistletoe and seeds of parsley would be the hot sale of the day. Some women would tie a little sprig around their bellies, others would plant the parsley seeds as it was believed that if it sprouted, a child would grow into the woman's womb.

The Festival of Embers was a memorial day, used to honor the memory of those who had fought in the previous wars and also, the prince funeral. People would leave flowers and medicine over their lost ones graves, so the least fortunate could later pick up the elaborated potions. It was a way to heal others, while letting the grieve to follow it's course.

And finally, Winter Day. A holiday used to welcome the first days of the winter season. Warm and comforting food would be served, duvets would be sold cheaper and of course, the pastries would be a staple. It also had a romantic connotation, just like Paint Day. People gave a small sweet bun full of jam to represent their hearts with a clear message "my love is as sweet as the jam, and as dense like the bread".

Onerim on the other hand had just the Independence Day. The land of pearls, where the fawn was as feared as respected through the realm. It wasn't a secret that many considered the kingdom as failed and misbegotten, since its ruler Sergei Kravinoff had taken the throne after killing his father and rebirthed as Kraven.

And still, people around were wise to avoid picking a war with him. His warriors were ruthless and they held no compassion towards their victims. A savage, King Blanchard had called him once. But his prejudice wasn't only skewed as they were opposites, his view from the world only revolved around hunting, the bloodshed.

Onerim's economy was based on controlled fur trades, weapon commerce such as spears, traps and other trinkets perfect for unsuspecting close killing and gold.

The south east area from Enethor was rich in minerals.

And finally, Arachne. The biggest kingdom of the four. Half of the continent was occupied by it. None really know how the curious shape of the realm was created. Mother nature had her secrets after all, but certainly, Arachne was the most prominent; in all sense of the word.

Despite being a relatively new kingdom, with a hundred year mark of existance, Monarchy wasn't settled until sixty years ago, the first ruler Tyler Stone, had ruled under a relatively prosper and steady command. However, the king had died under mysterious circumstances, and a new ruler rose. George O'Hara.

Most speculations turned into the royal family, the rumor of King Tyler being poisoned by his own half brother, George so he could take over wasn't the only unhinged thing people said. But it was denied as George died of heart attack a couple of months later and the queen, Conchata perished two years later, out of sickness.

Others believed that Kingpin had his fair share of guilt. That there was a complot for Tyler to be dethroned and the lands on the west extension of Arachne to be sieged and won for Erunia.

But whoever the conspirator was, would deeply regret to overlook past one detail. Miguel. Miguel O'Hara. The young and brilliant king that had continued his father's legacy in a way that not many had expected. Clad in black obsidian, iron and red zarconite, Miguel had lead his army into the depths of war. Kraven surely knew bloodshed, but The Battle for the Alchemari sea and its shores declared Miguel as the new King of Sieges.

The foreign army's blood that came with conquering intentions dyed the shore red, just as his eyes. The Red King was born as his message to the others who had the same ideals was clear.

This is my kingdom.

And so it has been for the last seventeen years. Thriving in an alarming rate in technology, the army grew, as many others soldiers from around the world joined him. Miguel had gathered an army of exceptional people with different skills that once trained under his command, would form the completest army a sovereign would only dream of.

Spies, people that excelled in close ranged combat, archery, weaponry and of course intellect. People who were ahead of their time could earn a spot in his army, after a scrutinizing training.

Arachne prospered in many areas, technology, fawn and flora, weaponry; importation and exportation of goods, minery of obsidian, iron and zarconite and of course fishery. The capital, Nueva York, was the main prosperous land, and where Miguel's castle resided.

A fortress in that one would be lost if one didn't know it like the back of a hand.

The world recoiled and guarded itself as much as it could, when the drums of war echoed for Arachne. To kill or to be killed. Red and blue marching behind The Red King. Some died, but would gladly do so, when the king had taken them in and gave them a purpose.

Festivities weren't really a thing, but people celebrated in their own ways. Unlike Theleria, Arachne only counted with three holidays.

New Rain Feast. A celebration to conmemorate Miguel's first battle won at the Alchemari Sea's shores. It was said that after he won over, the rain had washed over any bloodshed. Erasing from history those that had dared to foray his territory and giving hope towards a new future.

Rain was a good omen in the vast kingdom.

The Armistice Day was used to celebrate the memory of those fallen in battle and the successful treaty among international lands.

And the most expected of them all, The Rainbow Festival. It was more like a huge fair for merchants to sell their goods in the capital, that somehow had ended up with music and a new invention for people's amuse. Fireworks.

Only those close to the king knew how much he exerted himself to keep his people safe. He lived and breathed to maintain them all safe. Your arrival however had caused little to no disruption in his routine.

But it was certain that he wasn't looking for a bride. He had got so much more than he actually bargained for. And for your mother to offer you as the last resource only proved not only their good faith and sincerity towards him, but how others saw him. Your parents feared him. Good. Fear kept people in check and prevented then from doing stupid things.

Your surrender was a clear act of desperation. A token, really. A token that would eventually be queen, even without you both getting married. He needed that passageway open for his merchants to not disturb the economy. He could seize your kingdom if he so desired, but he was a man of word, and so far your parents had kept their end of the promise too.

Of course he'd be civil enough so far to keep you comfortable, and when Peter had told him about your concerns regarding him, he knew that sooner or later he'd have to make an approach. Not that he didn't want to. He was just too busy with external affairs that often forgot even about himself.

Peter would often find him sleeping over the documents sent to him, reports, finances from the different main districts through the nation and possible alliances with far lands.

He'd sometimes would have to be dragged off by Jessica to at least eat something. Lyla, one of his advisors often nagged him to look after himself.

And now, you. A new addition to his list of worries.

You were pretty, sure, but love was something he didn't actually consider in a long long time. He had his own concubines, but even those had been neglected to the point of avoiding his chambers. He wasn't precisely gentle with them either.

Gentleness wasn't something that rendered The Red King. He lived up to his image as a cold, irritable yet polite man that would do anything to keep his kingdom safe.

But soon, priorities would have to be rethought as he grew older. One of them awaited for him in the dining hall. Just as he had instructed.

His armor seemed like a staple into his wearing. It was rare when he was without it. His mind prepared psychologically for the events. He was tired, but still. Hungry. The kiss he had given your hand was out of impulse, but said impulse was enough to make you light up and his heart to give a small shimmy at your reaction.

He still could provoke emotions that wasn't fear or a severe longing for death. And that amused him.

"Princesa"

You stood up, and bowed your head.

"Please, take a seat."

You obeyed, and were seated to his right. Food was soon brought.

"Hope your staying has been comfortable enough?"

The table was being occupied with different lots of food made out of fish. After all, fish and seafoods were the main protein in the capital. Stews, soups and so many other things you had never seen or tasted before.

"It has been, yes. Thanks to you, your majesty" Your lips curved into a bashful smile as the servants donned your plate with a small soup first.

The silence settled in as he begun eating. And that's where you noticed, the protuding fangs on each side of his mouth, tearing and chomping down the meat. It made you wonder if he was used to eat like this.

The only sounds in the dining hall was him scarfing down the food as you ate yours. He was too deep in his task to actually mind your awed stare his way as he ate.

"Your Majesty?" Your sweet voice made him stop as he was about to devour a stuffed fish. Red eyes darted your way, and the fabric piece of napkin you held before him with a small giggle.

"I didn't know one could have such an appetite"

He gulped and cleared his throat.

"Food is exquisite, my lord. Can understand your urge, I've never tasted something so scrumptious like this."

He drank from his cup, the food soothing his nerves and sudden thoughts.

"Glad you like." His tone although monotonous was genuine, like his words.

You'd think he'd had his fill, but another round was brought. This time you were served a lighter seafood stew. This time he ate with a bit more moderation despite his hunger. Of course a man his size had to keep himself well fed.

"I'm quite happy for you to take considerations in such things like art." You mumbled after finishing the contents of your plate.

"Can't be all bloodshed, right?"

You smiled with a soft nod.

"Do you favor a certain branch of arts, my lord?"

"Like?"

"Painting, sculpting, scripture, smithing?"

He pondered for a minute, doe eyes seized him with keen interest.

"Smithing, perhaps."

"It suits your likings." You nodded, "I mean, I can tell by the way your armor is built."

"And what could your highness tell from it?"

"That you saw its building yourself. That is a special armor for you, cause I know no other king that would put that much of effort into his battle armor."

His lips curved slightly but pleased.

"You favor paintings, that much noted. What else do you like, princesa?" He drank from his cup again as Jessica marched in with a small box with a vial. A green-ish liquid contained in the glass.

He nodded at Jessica as she left. Then gulped down the little flask. Face contorting into a disgusted gesture for a brief moment.

"I do like embroidering and gardening."

"Gardening?"

"Of course. I was instructed in the arts of holistic medicines back in my kingdom."

"So you're a doctor?"

You giggled and his tiredness slowly felt melting.

"Kind of. Mother wanted me to be the head of our art academy, but father insisted to keep my medicine studies. Somehow both worked. But medicine proved to be more effective. You can't heal injured soldiers with art, after all."

He chuckled and nodded.

"I've heard that you have been visiting the library. Anything you actually need to find?"

"Oh, I apologize if I've come out as a snooper. I just wish to know more about your kingdom."

"Is that so?"

"Don't get me wrong, my lord. I wouldn't want to embarrass you before your council at not knowing a bit more of your culture in case my opinion or input would be asked."

His eyes twinkled in amusement. A wise desicion indeed.

His lips were about to speak when the jumble of familiar voices approached.

" Your Majesty, Prince Gabriel has arrived" Peter announced with a soured expression, one that Miguel knew wasn't a good thing.

Prince Gabriel?

You looked between him and Peter as said Prince barged in behind the commander. Armor similar to Miguel's but his wasn't as opulent, a smaller crown, hip adorned with a black sword, and of course a grail in his hands.

"My king, my lord, my... My Miggy" He hiccuped and approached him slurring his words, careening steps guided his tipsy self closer to where Miguel was, but stopped as his green eyes settled on you.

"And whose this?"

"Gabriel" Miguel warned

"Ohh, a new concubine?! About time!"

Your eyes widened in surprise and your mouth settled in a tight line. Of course he would have concubines. Mostly kings did. Even your father did.

"Gabriel!" His voice froze him in the spot. You stood up, almost abruptly, hands fisted on your dress, heart beating miles per second as your chest grew tighter within.

"Thanks for your time, your majesty. I shall go back."

You bowed and left, Peter trailed after you after Miguel's order. Both just looked where you had disappeared.

Gabriel sat down with a goofy smile that soon vanished. Miguel's glared holes his way

"You're done acting like a fool, Gabriel?"

"You're done playing the horny idiot?"

"Dame paciencia... She's a princess, Gabriel." (Give me patience)

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because" His voice rose and seethed but quickly caught himself, "Fue tan inesperado para mi como lo es para tí" (It was as unexpected for me as is it for you.)

"You're marrying her?"

"Yes."

"Why? We don't need that sort of problems now."

"Thats precisely why I am marrying her. To avoid future troubles."

"What do you mean?"

Gabriel took a mouthful of shrimps as he sat where you had been sitting minutes ago.

"Her kingdom owes the West Passage."

"Wasn't it closed?" He mumbled through a full mouth, Miguel scrunched his nose in disgust as he swallowed.

"Can you not talk for a second?"

"Right, right"

"It was closed due political shit with Erunia."

"Kingpin?"

"He's getting annoying at this point."

"So they closed it because they feared an invasion, I guess."

"Thats why I'm marrying her."

"That's cold, Miggy."

"But necessary."

Gabriel sighed and looked at his older brother. Despite his age, a few white strands protunded from his head due the perpetually stressed state he always seemed to be.

"So, marriage instead of protection."

"Correct. We can't risk our economy to be surpassed by a crime lord as Kingpin or Kraven."

"Why don't just absorb her kingdom as an extension of ours?"

"¿'Tas menso?" (You dumb?)

"What? Just a suggestion"

"No. They just fought a war. The Prince died. There is enough bloodshed as it is."

"That smug and cocky boy?"

"Sounds familiar?"

Gabriel pouted and sighed.

"You're not nice. What if she finds out about it?"

"I'm sure she's well aware of the mess."

Gabriel shrugged and popped another shrimp in his mouth.

"You'll apologize to her."

"Naturally. Enough torment she gets by getting married to you, Miggy."

Gabriel scrambled away with a laugh as Miguel approached him.

"¡Cálmate!" (Chill!)

"Imbécil." He swatted his head, "Any news?" (Dumbass)

"Not good ones, I'm afraid"

------

A concubine.

"Your Majesty!" Peter trailed after you.

The word had been engraved into your mind.

"I beg your pardon, my lady. Prince Gabriel is-"

"It's fine. You don't have to apologize on behalf of another's ignorance."

Peter gulped and sighed as he walked before you.

"I'm really sorry that this happened, your highness. Prince Gabriel is... quite the card when he's under the effects of mead"

"Well, a drunk's words are sober thoughts aren't they?"

Peter frowned and stepped back.

"I know this is an arranged marriage, ser. I know what it implies. Love isn't into the list. And I respect that. After all, this union was born from the need to keep our people in peace and our countries thriving. Nothing else."

Peter blinked.

"I shall take my studies and meals in my room tomorrow, if that's okay. I don't... wish to be disturbed."

Peter bowed and left you be.

Despite your chambers being warm with the fireplace, you felt cold. Colder as you removed your current clothing into the sleeping ones. Just when you had thought that he was being genuine with you, the hope had been crushed cruelly. But of course you had provoked your own tristful mood by idealizing something you weren't even sure of.

-------

Miguel's frown only deepened as Peter's expression.

"What now?"

"She wishes to not be disturbed for tomorrow"

"Of course she does..."

Miguel rubbed his face and rested his chin on his palm.

"Your brother-"

"I know he messed up, Peter"

"I don't think you're understanding. Miguel."

"I do understand." He pinched his nose bridge.

"I've know you since your father trained us to protect you"

"How long has been that? Eighteen years ago?"

"Twenty for me. I've known you for twenty years, Miguel. And for the first time in your life, you're not being honest with yourself."

Miguel’s brow quirked at him.

"Meaning?"

"You're making reckless desicions even if they come with good intentions. But in that recklessness you're hurting people without realizing. "

"Can't hear you when you're talking full of yourself"

"Act tough and proud all you want, but I wouldn't be surprised if she just rather go back to her own country-"

"It's arranged, Peter."

"You're such a jerk. It's not... You know what? Whatever."

Peter turned around and prepared to leave.

"Commander."

Peter stopped and grunted, annoyed.

"I hate it when you do that."

"Did she say something?"

"You're underestimating her"

"Explain."

"No. Ask her yourself."

"Must I remind you who are talking to?"

"I'm talking to you as a friend."

Miguel sighed and let him continue.

"I'm not saying be moonstruck with her and forsake the kingdom and damn your responsibilities. But the least you could be doing is keeping your allies close, she might not be what you wanted at all. But she understands her duty as well. Don't take her as a fool."

"I know she isn't a fool"

"I'm telling you this because I'd never want my daughter in the same position as she is. You think this is easy for her?"

"A kingdom isn't ruled on its own, Peter"

"Precisely my point you idiot! You can't rule it all on your own! Unless you pay with your life." Miguel glared at him but Peter just rolled his eyes.

"I've done this alone for the last decade and some more"

"Yeah, and look at you. A mess that is always mistrusting people."

"I've got my own reasons."

"God, to be a brilliant inventor you're such a dumbass sometimes. Just apologize to her, alright? I'm getting tired of being your personal courier."

Peter left him be. Of course he had seen your reaction, he should send Gabriel away another two weeks for scouting for his stupid little act, and of course he hated Peter being right.

This is exactly why he didn't meddled in these sort of things. But he was a man of honor. And certainly he had enjoyed the little talk with you, so he would take Peter's advice at heart. Disrespectful as he was. He'd keep you close.

----

Tag list

@tayleighuh @obi-mom-kenobi @allysunny @nxrdamp @pinkiemme @a--dedicated--fangirl @rin0r1na @queenofroses22 @sofi786 @murnsondock @okayiamkassandra @kimmis-stuff @ceoofmiguel @meeom @handsomeprettytoes @ladymoztaza @chiikasevennn @mxtokko @cheerioeoz @gabrielarose29 @oooof-ifellforyou @minalovesyoubabes @kikisstrawberrie @know-that-its-delicate @aikoya

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #t writes✨#atsv miguel #spider man 2099 x reader #royal au #princess reader

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written-in-flowers · 4 months

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Be the Light: Pt. 5 (seongjoongxFem!reader)

Pairing: Hongjoong x Seonghwa x Fem!reader | Side pairing(s): Ateez x Fem!reader.

Word count: 5k

Genre: fluff, smut/ AU: historical au, arranged marriage au, polyamorous, royalty au

Summary: YN has spent her entire life in service of Han Sookmyung, Queen of Hanseong. She never dreamed above her station, or that she'd ever be in reach of Sookmyung's concubines, 'The Golden Ones'. But, when secrets are brought to life, her world is turned upside-down.

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, heavily referenced torture (briefly), heavily referenced abuse (briefly), heavily referenced sexual abuse (briefly), enslavement, slight gaslighting, lost sibling, political drama, historical drama, joseon!au, concubine!ateez, nsfw content, virgin!reader, polyamory, polygamous, throuple, threesome m/m/f, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), group sex, multiple positions, multiple partners, cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, virgin sex, virginity discussed.

And a huge, huge thanks to my beta @daesukiii !!! Without them, this wouldn't be as good lol

Taglist: @scarfac3 @tunaasan @lelaleleb @sevngmin148 @meljoongiee @puppyminnnie @sunasmoke22 @kyourixr @yoongiigolden @lynnsqueendom @atinycafe @soocore @ethereally-lyann @blackbutterfly133 @ddaeing @pearlytinyy @iweirdthingsblog @huachengsbestie01 @glintneon123 @watamotee33 @n3atjok3r246 @sousydive @ashrocker123 @baekmond @escape-from-realitys-stuff @yunpointe @Silentcry329 @st4rcig4r @kaaytea @c4tboyxiao @ppprimary

Part 4 < > Part 6

****

They combed the entire palace, but Hongjoong knew they'd never find her. Sookymung lived here her entire life, knowing the secret passages and exits. With her supporters aiding her, she is likely on her way out of the city. Still, Hongjoong and San searched in the northern part of the palace grounds; Yunho and Yeosang searched the west while Jongho and Wooyoung took men to the east. He knew you were safe with Seonghwa in the harem, but he couldn’t help thinking of Sookmyung finding her way in there. Whether it is true or not, Sookmyung will believe you had a hand in this and come for you. She'd told him repeatedly how deeply she trusted you, bordering on being in "love" with you. Hongjoong couldn't stop himself from picturing her sneaking into your chambers, and plunging a knife into you like she'd done to his mother. He couldn't protect her, but he can protect you.

This fight was far from over.

By the time they returned to the harem, he found the other conspirators in the main room awaiting him. Jisoo spotted him first.

"Did you find her?"

"No," he shook his head. "She must have fled into the city. The city watch is on alert, but they won't find her." He looked at Wonshik, "We were betrayed. You said we had support on our side," he snapped at him angrily, "You said they'd stand with us against her. I don't know if you've noticed, but at least half of them defended Sookmyung instead of arresting her."

"It was the Dukes of Daegu, Gongju, and Ulleungdo who defected," Wonshik said. "I am not surprised by this. They have much to lose if Sookmyung is not on the throne. I should have foreseen this outcome-"

"-Yes, you should have," he looked about the room for you, "Where is YN?" He needed to see you.

"She's asleep, Your Grace," Chaewon told him.

"Alone?" His eyebrows raised at this serious oversight. "When Sookmyung is out there?"

"She's being closely guarded," said Jisoo.

"By who?"

"Seojoon and Minho-"

"-No," Hongjoong interrupted, "None of Sookmyung’s old guards. Until they have proven their loyalty to their new queen, I do not want any of the old guards overseeing YN."

"Your Grace," she began, "Seojoon and Minho have proven themselves to be loyal servants to The Crown, not specifically Sookmyung."

"I don't care." He looked to the men behind him. If he should trust any of them, it should be the men who stood at his side. "San, Mingi, I want you to watch over YN."

"Are you-" Mingi began to say, but Hongjoong cut him off.

"-I am. San, you used to be an army captain. Mingi, you worked for pirate hunters. I trust you both to keep her safe."

There are so few people he can trust, he realized. Sookmyung knew about this coupe. Someone within their circle whispered their treason, and she gathered people loyal to her. It is the only explanation. She’d known they’d come for her eventually, but you being revealed as her sister distracted her. Even if she does not get her throne back, she will make sure you suffer. Hongjoong saw, watching San and Mingi leave the room, that he cannot simply let anyone be around you. Sookmyung’s allies may have stationed spies within the palace. One of them might even be ordered to kill you. He’d do everything in his power to make sure that never happened.

“What of the lords from Daegu, Gongju and Ulleungdo?” asked Seonghwa. “They’ll likely still be in the palace, if not already in the city.”

“I vote we round whoever remains,” said Advisor Junhan, “And hold them as hostages. We will send word to their families that unless they bend the knee to Queen YN, their children will continue to be imprisoned here.”

“No,” Wonshik disagreed, “If we do such a thing, we are no better than Sookmyung. We must continue searching for her.”

“But how?” asked Seonghwa. “We don’t have the men to spare for such a search. Besides, a whole host of men is a lot harder to hide.”

“I will write to Changbin,” Jisoo suggested. “He has plenty of connections and people to send about the kingdom for us.”

“Can they be trusted to not speak if captured?” asked Advisor Heechul. “Sookmyung’s methods of interrogation are horrendous. She may discover all she needs to know if she apprehends one of them.”

“They won’t talk,” said Hongjoong quietly. He thought of Naeun, who remained loyal until the very end. “Sookmyung tortured Naeun for hours, and she never said a word. Send word to Changbin,” he told Jisoo, “And tell him to plant his spies in the courts of Daegu, Gongju, and Ulleungdo. If Sookmyung is anywhere near those places, they might find out where.”

“Sookmyung will not make this an easy task,” noted Advisor Junhan. “I personally trained her in combat and martial arts. She is an excellent strategist-”

“-No, she is not,” argued Hongjoong. “She’s built her reputation as a great war strategist on lies and fear. It does not take military know-how to storm a castle and put it to the torch. Sookmyung only succeeded in war because she had advisors much more talented and knowledgeable than herself. Her conquest succeeded because she killed anybody who could possibly oppose her in the future, and installed people loyal to her in their place. That won’t happen again.”

“And what makes you so sure of this?” asked Wonshik, not challenging but curious.

“Because we’re on equal footing this time,” he told him. "She won’t have the support she had before. She's going to be outnumbered and surrounded.” If he's lucky, Sookmyung’s paranoia will cause her to lash out and behave rashly.

“And she’ll have you to contend with now,” added Seonghwa with a small grin.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” interjected Advisor Junhan, “But you were a concubine for several years. I don’t think the people will-”

“-Hongjoong is the King of Wonju,” Seonghwa snapped. “He is the person the resistance wanted to lead them. He is a skilled swordsman, marksman, horse rider, and combat strategist. He knows Sookmyung just as well as anyone else in this room. If anybody could lead our armies to victory, it would be Hongjoong.”

“Us being her sex slaves will only endear us to the people more.”

It was Yunho who’d spoken. He stepped out from the shadowy doorway, pensive and serious. The healer. The physician. Yunho spent the past eight years personally attending to Sookmyung and her “flowers”. He’d also been the most kind-hearted of them all.

“Everything we know about Sookmyung is not a fact in the kingdom,” he continued. “Those who have witnessed her cruelty only saw a percentage of it. When word reaches the masses that everything they’ve ever heard about her is true, as possibly worse than they believed, they won’t be so hasty to follow her. Just because the dukes who betrayed us side with her does not mean their bannermen or lords under their rule will.”

“Are you suggesting we let the truth come out?”

“Why not? By morning, everyone will know YN is her sister and will be crowned the new queen soon. I think it will do well to tarnish Sookmyung’s reputation a bit further.”

“We could also let it be released that Sookmyung forced YN to participate in her wrongdoings,” Yeosang said from his window perch nearby. “It may cause them to sympathize with her.”

“YN will need all the support she can gather,” said Jisoo. “Sookmyung may have military strength, but the support of the people is a powerful thing. If they see YN is someone they can rally around, they will stand with her.”

Yes, they will. Hongjoong knew the people of Wonju will follow him, and if you’re his wife and he’s your king consort, they will follow you too.

“We must coronate YN as soon as possible,” insisted Wonshik. “The sooner we have a crown on her head and official documents in place, the sooner we can gain support.”

“And when do you suggest we do this, Wonshik?” asked Hongjoong with a challenge in his voice. “Tomorrow morning? We cannot stage a coronation in a day. Besides, a public event might put YN in harm’s way. No, it is too soon.”

“YN must be given time to take in all of this,” Chaewon said from behind Jisoo. “If I may, Your Grace, suggest that we take a small grace period in the meantime? The council can set coronation plans and we can focus on other matters.”

“Other matters?” questioned Hongjoong.

“There is also another event that needs attention,” Jisoo answered. “Your marriage.”

“I would rather we focus our efforts on Sookmyung-” he began, but she intervened.

“A marriage between Hanseong and Wonju will be the distraction we need to buy us time.”

“And an opportunity for her to strike,” he retorted. “I do not want YN anywhere that Sookmyung could reach her.”

“And neither do we,” she said. “The wedding will be held in the palace behind closed doors and heavily guarded, if that pleases you.”

He thought for a moment, then said, “Let us put this to rest for now. I’d like to discuss this further with YN present.”

You likely do not even know about the arrangement. He knew you'd gone through enough for one night, and he wouldn't make it worse. The council, Queen Jisoo and Chaewon left the harem at his dismissal, bowing to him before making their exit. It felt odd having people bow to him. There'd been a time in his life where everybody knew when he was entering or leaving a room. But, they hadn't done that for years. It would be another thing he must get used to again.

He turned to look at the men left in the room: Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, Wooyoung, San, and Jongho. He noticed they each held their veils in their hands. His hands clenched into fists whenever he wore the golden veil, which became a symbol of enslavement. He'd removed the red headband she'd given to single him out from the rest; a token of her affection, she’d claimed. Hongjoong knew better. Hongjoong withdrew the veil tucked into a pocket, and walked over to a nearby brazier. Hongjoong examined the long, sheer material dotted in gold and silver pieces. He remembered when Sookmyung gave it to him.

"You're mine now," he said to himself, recalling that moment in her tent. "And everyone will know it."

Hongjoong thought of his dead mother, laying lifeless and bloody on the floor of their family room. Sookmyung told him if his men laid down their arms, she'd spare his mother and siblings. She didn't. She cut them down without hesitation. Hongjoong's heart ached in his chest, and he breathed deeply. Sookmyung took everything from him: his family, his life, and his dignity. He replayed every awful moment in his mind, and swallowed back his tears. Running his thumb over the smooth jewels, taking in their shape and size, he realized he'd never wear this again. Even if somehow they lost, and she reclaimed her throne, he'd rather die than be her slave. He'll never wear this veil or this headband again. Angrily, Hongjoong threw the two articles into the fire. Standing by the fire, he watched the silk start to singe at the edges. The veil's mesh material began curling outward in certain parts. It felt cleansing, standing beside the burning coals and watching his chains melt. He is his own person.

Then another veil joined the fire. Then another, another, and another. Soon, all eight veils burned in the fire. Hongjoong glanced up to see tears welled up in Yeosang and Yunho's eyes, while Jongho and Seonghwa remained as stoic as himself. They're free now. They might not know what their futures hold, but they are their own men again.

"We will not be slaves again," he promised them, gulping the lump in his throat. "I swear it."

He felt a hand grab his gently, long fingers sliding between his own. Hongjoong looked to see tears escaping Seonghwa's lashes, falling down his cheeks to his sharp jawline. He couldn't help wiping them away with his sleeve.

"You'll never wear those masks again," he told him.

"I'd die first," said Jongho stiffly, gazing into the fire with watery eyes. "I'll slit my own throat before being her property again."

"Do not say such insane things," Yeosang frowned, taking his hand in his own.

"The only throat I want to slit is hers," Wooyoung said through gritted teeth, hands curling into fists at his sides. "She's hurt too many people to stay alive. She's too dangerous." He looked up at Hongjoong, "We have to win, we must stop her."

"We will," he assured him, unable to stop his own tears now.

He stared at them as they cried in the flames. Hongjoong vowed to succeed.

They must succeed.

****

Waking up the next morning felt surreal. You thought you might be lying somewhere between reality and sleep before you sensed a presence near your bed. Panic immediately struck you, and you clutched the sheets around you. The image of Sookmyung standing over your bed, eyes blazing with fury and holding a long knife made you tremble. You knew they wouldn't find her. Sookmyung always got her way, regardless of who she killed to get it. A thousand pleas for mercy bundled in your throat, and you screamed when you felt a hand touch your shoulder.

"Your Majesty, your Majesty!" a soft, gentle voice said over your panicked screams. You swatted at the figure, eyes closed to avoid meeting her eyes.

"Get away! Get away!" you cried, your heart pounding in your ears as the person managed to grab hold of your arms.

Then you felt somebody else at your opposite side, and you moved away from them. It took several minutes to register the white hanboks and the worried expressions of Sookmyung's former handmaidens. Aro, Saehee, Boram, and Dasom stood all around the bed, a bit frightened but mostly concerned. You never realized how similar the women looked. Short and skinny, Sookmyung made them wear their hair in long braids with the red colored daeng'gi at the end. In their pure white hanbok, they became almost indistinguishable. Sookmyung did this on purpose. Not only would she stand out against their white backdrop, but also stand taller and therefore appear more intimidating. Heat filled your cheeks, and you tucked a piece of hair behind your head, feeling embarrassed.

"Forgive me," you coughed, sitting up properly and covering your chest. "I...I didn't..."

"It's alright, Your Majesty," soothed Saehee. The eldest of the four, you often put her in charge of managing the other handmaidens in your absence. She sat beside you, taking your clammy hand in hers, "It's only us here. Nobody is going to hurt you."

"We wanted to see you," admitted Aro. Only fourteen-years-old, you'd spent a good amount of time training her to serve Sookmyung, but she still made mistakes as children do. Something Sookmyung did not forgive easily. "We heard what happened yesterday, and wanted to see if you were alright."

"I had breakfast brought for you," Boram told you, taking a seat on the bed. "You hadn't eaten properly since yesterday, and I knew you'd be hungry." Boram, always considerate and motherly in that sense. Due to her close relationship with the chef's son and her culinary knowledge, you let her handle Sookmyung's meals.

You supposed she'd be preparing your meals now.

“Did you know Mingi and San are outside your door?" whispered Dosam, who crawled onto the bed close to you. "I think they've been there all night." Dosam, while sweet, never hesitated to indulge in gossip. You knew Sookmyung often used her as a spy in the servant's quarters, but Dosam usually lied or told a half-truth. "They almost didn't let us in until we said Queen Jisoo ordered us to come here."

"It's like they didn't trust us!" huffed Boram, arms crossed. "What did they think we'd do? Strangle you?"

"I'm sure they meant no offense, Boram," you assured her. "They're only being cautious." You looked at Dosam, "Did they find her?"

They all shook their heads, and dread filled your stomach. Sookmyung was likely already out of the city, plotting your death as you sit there. You hugged your sheets around your torso, and shuddered. She knew all the passageways into the palace, and you're sure her allies across the city would help her. She could come at any moment, drag you into the dungeon, and torture you to death. The phantom sensation of nails being pulled from your fingers or needles pierced into your skin one by one sickened you. She'd delight in throwing you into The Box, since your discomfort of it amused her. The possibility caused you to flinch at Saehee's touch again.

"But you're safe here," she insisted, rubbing your back gently, "Hongjoong will make sure you're safe."

"Hongjoong?"

"Yes, he's been working closely with the advisors and Queen Jisoo," said Dosam. "I saw him with the Queen when she summoned us to her apartments. They looked like they were having a pretty serious conversation if you ask me.”

"Was my mother there?"

The women paused for a moment. "Which one?" asked Boram, cautiously.

You then remembered the most shocking part of the whole evening. All the confusion from the previous night returned, and added itself into the anxiousness rolling in your stomach. Queen Jisoo and King Siwon were your birth parents. They'd given you to their servants to keep a succession dispute. They'd done it in vain, since it is happening regardless of their efforts. You tried thinking of happy moments you had with the king and queen, but you only saw your mother and father when you did. Chaewon sang you lullabies whenever you had nightmares. Hyungshik always brought you pretty flowers or stones he'd found while tending to the gardens. They made sure you always ate well, and kept up with your studies. You knew you could turn to them in uncertain times. You didn't feel that way with Queen Jisoo, even if she was always kind and considerate of you.

"My mother," you repeated a bit more firmly. "Park Chaewon."

"She's with the queen," said Saehee.

"She was sitting with her and Hongjoong," Dosam told you.

"Did you hear what they were talking about?" asked Aro.

"No," she shook her head. "They stopped talking when I entered the room." You then saw the wayward glance she gave, "But I did hear them at the door."

"What did you hear?" you asked her, somewhat nervous to hear the answer.

Dosam did not answer right away. You recognized her hesitancy, since it was the same cower she'd give Sookmyung. She closed her eyes as if forced to say it, "They were talking about you marrying Hongjoong!"

Everyone on the bed gasped. You sat frozen in place, your brain trying to comprehend what she'd said. For a moment, you worried you may have heard her wrong. "What?"

"I heard Queen Jisoo say that a marriage between Wonju and Hanseong will be good for the future," she said hurriedly, "And that together you and Hongjoong can rebuild the kingdom."

"What? No...No, there's no way she's honestly considering..."

Hongjoong belonged to Sookmyung. He is her favorite flower, her most prized possession. If you married him, whatever plans she had will become especially heinous. Hongjoong's face came to the forefront of your mind. You thought about your conversation with him during the party. He'd told you that you worried so much about others, and rarely yourself. He'd said it in an amused tone, almost as if he found it cute. Hongjoong possibly thinking of you in any capacity outside of formality made your insides churn. You supposed a marriage between you made sense on paper, since he is a prince of Wonju and you're now a queen. But, thinking of marrying Hongjoong made your cheeks burn.

"He is handsome," Saehee noted, "And tender-hearted. I think he will make a fine husband."

"And he's a prince!" added Aro. "Now that Sookmyung isn't around, he can be a prince again."

"He's a king," Saehee corrected her. "His family is dead, right? That means he's King of Wonju now."

"Do you think you'll be his queen consort?" she asked you, bright eyed.

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I'm meant to be the Queen of Hanseong. I don't think we can both marry if we have separate thrones. Who will look over Wonju, if Hongjoong is far away?"

“They can find somebody," Saehee said. "You never know. Perhaps he has a cousin or distant relative somewhere who can handle Wonju for him?"

"Perhaps."

Marrying Hongjoong was meant to be a fantasy of yours. Thinking about being his wife, his closest friend, and confidant was supposed to remain in your head. You'd do your best to avoid looking at or talking to him because you know if you did, you'd fall deeper in love with him. It's similar to your feelings for Seonghwa, who showed you gentleness and reassurance last night. You knew showing too much attention towards them would upset Sookmyung. With her out of way, and word of a possible marriage in the air, the possibilities felt endless.

“Let us get you dressed,” concluded Saehee. “The Queen wishes to speak with you.”

“I can dress myself, Saehee,” you told her, wrapping yourself in the sheets and fixing your hair from your face. “It’s not necessary.”

“You’re going to be The Queen,” she said. “A queen always has handmaidens.”

“Unless…” Aro fiddled with the ribbon in her hair, “You wish to dismiss us?”

You saw the uncertainty show on their faces. None of them looked directly at you, and you frowned.

“Of course, I wouldn’t dismiss any of you,” you implored. “Why would I do such a thing? We have gone through so much together, and I care about each of you deeply.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “You might not wish to have a stupid cry baby as you handmaiden,” she sniffled, and you saw her eyes water. “I’m always so clumsy and-”

“-And when have I shown annoyance at that?” you asked her gently. “When?”

“Never,” she sniffed. “You’re always so kind and patient with me.”

“I’m not a virgin!” Boram blurted out. When you all whipped your heads to her, she winced. “I’m not. I have not been for a long time. I knew the punishment for that, so I never said anything, but I am now. Vernon and I are in love,” she said to you in particular, “And he wants to marry me. I hope that it won’t upset or displease you.”

“Not at all,” you told her, taking her hand in your own. “You are not my property. All of you are free to love and marry freely.” You stood up from the bed, standing straight as you said, “My first order to all of you is to live as you wish. You are all going to remain my handmaidens, but you can do what you please outside of your duties. Wear whatever hanbok you like. Wear your hair however you wish. You belong to yourselves, not me.”

Their smiles lifted your spirits. You picked at the breakfast Boram placed in front of you while she and Dosam prepared a bath nearby. As good as it tasted, you found it hard to enjoy the food. Sookmyung slowly crept her way back into your mind, and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of her. Where did she go when she ran from the city guards? Who housed her right now? Did they know she liked to eat before she bathed? That she liked her soup piping hot, and her rice cooked to the perfect softness? You pitied whoever they put in charge of attending her. The poor girl won’t know the danger until it comes. You thought of the serving girl from a few nights ago who’d accidentally spilled wine. The girl lived, but you remember the long lashes on her bare skin and her painful sobs. Sookmyung found pleasure in her pain, but you did not.

“Your Majesty,” Saehee appeared from the hall with a long box and you immediately shook your head.

“-No, I won’t wear that,” you stopped her. “I won’t wear anything that’s hers.” It sounded almost like bringing yourself bad luck.

“This isn’t hers,” the woman insisted. “Queen Jisoo said she had some of her old hanboks stored away, and she thought you may like this one.”

“Oh…”

You watched her remove the top lid as you finished your breakfast. Red with gold cranes circled on the shoulders, several royal seals were painted into the long draped sleeves. The royal dragon emblem was part of the sash over the top coat; pond scenes with cranes and flowers painted along the stripes down the skirt. You recognized it at once. Queen Jisoo wore it at the last royal event she attended before King Siwon’s passing. She’d look regal and elegant. You spotted the same floral pins she’d worn in her hair that day, tucked into the braided bun at the nape of her neck.

“She wants me to wear this?” you asked, reaching forward to touch the soft satin fabric.

“Yes,” she nodded. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

She’d chosen this one for a reason. If there’s anyone you should be emulating, it should be The Peoples’ Queen, Queen Han Jisoo. You left the bed for the bath, sinking into the warm water and beginning to scrub yourself. Dosam moved to take the sponge from you, but you held it from her.

“I can bathe myself, Dosam,” you told her with a soft giggle.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

The words sounded weird when directed at you. You enjoyed the jasmine scented water as you contemplated the day. People everywhere must know the truth by now. What would things be like when you left the safety of this room? You finished your bath quickly, though you knew you could’ve taken as long as you wanted, and began drying and dressing yourself. Before you could pick up the undergarment layers, Saehee snatched it first.

“Let us at least dress you,” she said. “You’re a queen now. It’s considered an honor to attend to royalty.”

Was it? You certainly never felt honored when you dressed Sookmyung. Still, you allowed the four women to dress you. With each piece they slid onto you, you felt yourself slowly melting away. You’d never worn such finery before, and wearing the eoyeo meori felt different. Slowly, YN the Handmaiden became YN the Queen, and you didn’t know if you liked the queen yet. Sitting in front of the long mirror, looking yourself over as Dosam finished applying lip paint, you realize this is something you’ll be doing every morning. It didn’t matter if you wanted this or not. You must go through with this now, or otherwise all the effort put into it will be in vain.

“You look magnificent,” smiled Aro, who stood aside to look at you. “Hongjoong won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

“I don’t look like myself,” you touched the smooth skirt between your fingers. “I don’t feel like myself.”

“It’ll take some adjustment, I expect,” assured Saehee. “But, a nice hanbok and a wig doesn’t mean you’re not still YN. You’re YN with a title, that’s all.”

You didn’t know how to explain that it’s more than that. Your sole responsibilities used to only be the handmaidens and Sookmyung. As a queen, everyone in the kingdom is your responsibility. How can you possibly accommodate and please so many people? Particularly people once ruled over by fear and anguish. You liked to think you had your mother, the advisors and Jisoo helping you. They wouldn’t allow you to fail.

“Think of all the good things you can do now that you’re queen,” Aro said, smiling. “You can help so many people.”

You knew she meant well, but that only filled you with more dread.

“And you’ll have Hongjoong beside you,” Dosam smirked, “He’s quite fond of you. I don’t think he’d let you fail.”

‘Fond of you’. Was he? Yes, Hongjoong made kind passive gestures towards you before, but nothing indicating ‘fondness’. As they led you out of your dressing room, you couldn’t imagine Hongjoong being ‘fond’ of you. Every time you thought of his soft giggle or the crinkle of his eyes, Sookmyung's face came up right behind it. You thought of his lips lightly brushing against yours, one hand holding your hand and the other around your waist. He’d taste like mint and smell of cinnamon, a combination that would unravel you in seconds, melting any guard you may have up around him. Hongjoong and you may have not spoken often, yet you could not help imagining that fondness being present.

“Good morning, Your Majesty.”

Seonghwa stood in the main room of the harem with San and Mingi. Yeosang, Yunho, Wooyoung and Jongho all sat around, enjoying a light breakfast spread put out for them. They all stood from their seats when you entered, and you immediately remembered you’d fallen asleep in the harem. Embarrassment filled your cheeks, and you did your best not to look away.

“I’d ask if you slept well,” he said, “But I’m afraid not many of us did.”

“I slept well,” you replied. You felt his eyes taking in every inch of your face, and this did not stop the daydreams from expanding further. Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Sookmyung could have two lovers. Why couldn’t you? “Thank you. I assume it was my mother who asked you to keep watch over me?”

“In fact, it was Hongjoong who insisted we keep you here,” he answered, “I only seconded it.” He approached you, “They’re waiting for you in Queen Jisoo’s residence. San and Mingi are sleeping off their guard duty, but Wooyoung, Yunho and myself will walk you there.”

“What about the other palace guards?”

“Hongjoong said he wasn’t comfortable with any of Sookmyung’s old guards watching over you,” he said. “We’ll be watching over you until you’ve chosen a suitable guard for yourself.”

“Does that displease you, Your Majesty?”

Wooyoung asked this with worry in his voice. You stared at him for a moment. His slim build made it easy for him to slip between trees and scurry through dense bushes like a shadow. You remembered Sookmyung complaining about how he can be so loud, but still able to pass through unnoticed. It’d taken them a week to find him when he’d escaped camp during the war. He’d also been the hardest for Sookmyung to break.

“Not at all, Wooyoung,” you answered him honestly. “I don’t believe I’d feel comfortable around anyone who pledged allegiance to Sookmyung, to be truthful.”

You then noticed the most obvious thing about the men: they did not wear their veils. They’d rid themselves of their shackles, and you smiled softly at them. “Shall we go now?” you asked, taking a timid step forward, “I don’t wish to keep my mother or The Queen waiting any longer.”

“Of course, when you wish, Your Majesty.”

Right. You’re meant to lead. Taking another step, you kept putting one foot in front of the other as the group followed you outside. Yunho and Wooyoung walked ahead, wearing swords at their sides and no longer hiding their faces behind veils. Your handmaidens flanked you, keeping their heads down, while Seonghwa came into step beside you.

“May I accompany you there, Your Majesty?” he asked.

“Yes,” you nodded. “It’s still so odd.”

“What is?”

“To be called ‘Your Majesty’,” you said. “It feels…wrong. It doesn’t suit me.”

“You’re the queen. It’s your title.”

“I still don’t know if I like it.”

“Then, what do you wish to be called?” he asked, “Give me a title and I’ll gladly call you by it.”

You gave it a thought, “Hm, I don’t know.”

“Alright, ‘I-Don’t-Know’,” he smirked, giving you an amused smile.

You laughed at his joke, some of the tension inside you deflating as you reached the harem entrance. The world felt different to you, but you weren’t sure how. You thought you might have woken up in a dream, and you’ll wake up any moment.

“I imagine it will take a while to adjust,” he said when you reached the palanquin. “A lot has changed overnight, and it must be a lot to take in for you.”

“It is,” you admitted with a sigh. You anxiously picked at the inside of your sleeve, standing in front of the palanquin. It wasn’t Sookmyung’s palanquin. Hers had been larger. “Hongjoong is with my mother?”

“He is,” he nodded. “He went ahead with her to talk to the advisors and discuss our next move. I’m sure they’ll inform you once you arrive.”

He let you climb into the palanquin first, then followed you in. Being in a close, intimate space with Seonghwa put you on edge. Light whiffs of sandalwood came from his clothes, which you came to enjoy very quickly. Once the footmen began moving towards the queen’s residency, you spoke.

“Has he slept at all?”

“A bit,” he said. “As I said, not all of us slept very well. The guards are still combing the city for Sookmyung, and word about last night is beginning to spread outside the capital. I imagine everyone will know about you, Sookmyung, and the throne by week’s end.” When saw the anxiousness in your face, he added, “I’m sorry this has happened so quickly, YN, and that you’re not being given sufficient time to adjust. It isn’t fair to anyone, but most of all you.”

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you gave a soft smile, trying not to notice his round eyes gazing so intently at you. “Thank you for being here.”

“You’re my queen now,” he grinned, “I will be wherever you wish me to be.”

You smiled for a moment, before it instantly faded. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“No, no, forgive me. It’s not you,” you insisted. “It’s…” you sighed, “Even with her gone, I still see you as hers. She kept you at such a far distance that it’s almost as if she still owns you.”

“She doesn’t,” he said firmly. “And she doesn’t own you either. We are our own people now. We can be whoever we choose to be,” he then added, “And be with whoever we wish.”

You bit your inner cheek to keep from smiling.

*****

A/N: I'm super sorry I kept everyone waiting so long in between chapters! My mental health, work, and life things really just kept me from really focusing on a single project at a time. I hope this chapter makes up for it! <3

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #ateez x reader #seongjoong x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #ateez fluff #ateez smut

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nessieartss · 4 months

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What would uraume be in your sibling au? Would they be a normal friend or a sorcerer? Because they give a vibe that them and sukuna would be ride-or-die best friends that makes banger food and cleans his room when they come over because it is polite.

If they are a normal person in here, I would imagine that they saw each other again in shibuya and uraume is like "dude that you?" And talked for hours to no end

Damn anon what a coincidence because I was just sketching them for fun yesterday (more like because I wanted to draw topless sukuna) but then I had to make some adjustments after reading your comment. That’s interesting! I’d like to think uraume is also a sorcerer but they don’t associate with anyone (almost like yuki) and just went on by themself. Uraume is the only person—one and only I might add—that sukuna can stand being around with. They met when sukuna was a first year sorcerer and on a mission with geto and gojo to exorcise a bunch of curses that suddenly appear in a village. Uraume was alone and outnumbered that time, and almost died before sukuna saved them. They dedicated their whole life to sukuna as a thanks, sukuna thought that would be a burden but enjoyed uraume’s presence more than he admitted.

Of course they don’t have the master and servant kinda relationship like in canon, but uraume still respects the hell out of sukuna. And just like that they are instant buddies. Uraume would sometimes pay him a visit in jujutsu high, hanging out around in tokyo, cooked him delicious food, and when there are leftovers sukuna would just bring it home to yuuji (“damn, dude, where’d you get this food? it’s better than mine!”)

Uraume is also the only one that can talk back to sukuna. They would banter every now and then and people around would arch their brow to see sukuna can joke and laugh too, like, is THAT sukuna??? What happened???

Thanks for the ask anon, uraume is also one of my favorite characters and their interaction with sukuna is just 👌

#jjk sibling au #student sukuna au #sukuna #uraume #anon #ask #answer

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ophelieverse · 5 months

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Can you write Aemond x Rhae daughter?She can be a Velaryon/Strong and she is like the sweetest girl and Rhae is not very happy about them being a thing and have to share her only daughter with her half brother?

⊱ ❀ ✿ cold springs

Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

I’m a simp for Greek Mythology so after reading this request I immediately thought about a sort of Hades and Persephone AU with Rhaenyra as Demeter.

I didn’t gave reader any features so she can be read as Laenor or Harwin daughter(it’s up to you).There’s a little bit of smut in the beginning,also there will be incest(if its makes you uncomfortable do not read)

Y/n is once again leaving King’s Landing for the beginning of the spring to go back to Dragonstone,to her mother and siblings to spend the spring and summer with them.She and her husband share their usual “see you soon”moment.

Than you for the request and let me know what you think💕✨

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Their shared quarters in the Red Keep were etherously quiet.After all the servants and maidens had left,the luggage was ready and the feeling of home had finally hovered again in the rooms,breaking the silence would be a shame.

«Oh Aemond…»Y/n moans softly,moving her hips up and down,riding the length of her uncle and husband.

There is not much sound,apart from the shortness of breath and the rustle of the sheets,skin on skin.The quietness of their chambers is not disturbed... more perpetuated by the lazy morning activities of the residents.

«My beautiful petal,just like that.»he encourages her,his lips tracing down her neck with hungry kisses.

Y/n brings her head backwards,her mouth open in a silent moan as his member presses against her cervix again and again.Aemond holds a tight grip on her hip,the other hand caresses the young princess nipples,as he pushes languidly inside of her.

«Sweetheart.»Y/n murmurs breathless,as her limbs turn into jelly,the heat licks her core as her body moves up and down.

It’s almost hypnotic,as Aemond watches Y/n fall apart above him,he lets her take the lead as her hands are open on his chest moving her thighs at a steady pace.There is a slight veil of sweat that covers her soft body,making her glow like a goddess under the first lights of the morning.

«Gods,right there!»Y/n whispers,the heat builds up inside her,and her eyes close,her head dangles to the side as Aemond hand tightens,sliding his hips and snapping harder.

The colors explodes under Y/n eyelids and her arms tremble.She slumps forward to capture Aemond lips in a deep kiss,sucking his tongue, sloppy and hot,but he simply wraps his arms around her neck,pressing his face closer as he pushes into her cozy warmth.

Y/n moans breathlessly,and Aemond takes advantage of the moment to turn around until he's on top and his wife arches her back.

Aemond manages to feel Y/n orgasm approaching,then lifts her left leg above his shoulder and presses her on the mattress,his mouth devouring on her throat while maintaining the same slow,agonizing rhythm.

«Fuck petal,you are so beautiful.»Aemond says on her skin,breathless like her,and lowers his hand to devote himself to the little pearl between her legs,caressing it to the rhythm of his thrusts.

She whines«Aemond..i’m..I-I’m...»she chokes out on the pleasure.

«I know baby,I’m there too.»he mumbled kissing her messily.

«Oh gods!»Y/n gasps,the words break into suffocated moans,and the air around them heats up,increasing the pressure,the orgasm that taunts them and the fire that ripples under their skin,until they hit their climax together.

Her mouth opens in a silent scream,tilting her head back into the pillow as she squeezes around Aemond member.They come simultaneously,and his hips tremble as he throws himself deep into her,he moans in her neck as the orgasm runs through him,silent and prolonged,and sighs satisfied.

They both stayed there,basking in laziness,Aemond running his fingers through Y/n hair,trying to regain control of his breath and letting their bodies cool down.Everything around them is quiet,and it seems wrong to try to break the calm silence.

The room seems to contract,like his chest.Y/n hands are looking for him,they are looking for his,among the tangle of blankets that protects them from the gaze of the dying stars of the morning.

Aemond reach them,he squeeze them and his heart loses a beat,two,three,he stop breathing. She take his breath away,with the light layer of shiny sweat that veils her forehead,the hairline messy,gorgeous,wavy,long.If he wasn’t holding her warm hands,he would run his fingers through them.She take his breath away,with lips shiny and red like ripe cherries,sweet like ripe cherries.

Y/n takes his breath away,with eyes alive made of a thousand asteroids than even the night sky envies her beauty.

Aemond can't help but to put her arms around his hips,feeling her squeeze him closer,and wishing for her to squeeze him strong,stronger.He would let her destroy his bones as well:if it should serve to make her feel even more his,he would let her do anything.

For a moment their bodies collide,her chest on his,heart height.Their two hearts have never made a single beat together,always forgotten, as if they had actually already forgotten each other,always so rushed or so slow for each other.They were meant to be like that:cold to one another,distant and divided like their parents wanted them to be.

For a time it was like that,but Aemond and Y/n seemed to explode at the wrong time for each other,didn't they?His supernova was always so far away that he couldn't even see hers,which shone in the distance.Now everything is different,now that they collide,for a second, for a thousandth of a second,their hearts beat at the same rate.And Aemond feels like he’s drowning.

It was all so overwhelming.That time of the year had come again.

Although they had already decided to organize themselves that way for the past three years, Aemond had not yet gotten used to seeing Y/n leave.He knew how he behaved as they approached that date:he became grumpy and of few words,he couldn't enjoy the moments together,because his mind was already thinking about the next six months without her.

How would he have done without her laughter that filled the corridors and that always put him in a good mood?He would have missed waking up every morning with her sweet body next to him – even in her absence,Aemond would continue to look for Y/n warmth,but finding only cold sheets on the side of her bed.

Six months apart were far too long and it scared him.It was an inexplicable fear,the one of forgetting her voice.He loved to hear her speak,her eyes shone when she described something that was close to her heart and she was very infuriated when she told him about the injustices that some of her acquaintances had suffered.She was a very empathetic person,his sweet Y/n.She really liked to sing,but he had only found out when they fled to Essos and had started living together,because Aemond didn't remember ever hearing her before.She had this habit of singing while they bathed together or to lulling him to sleep.

Aemond knew that what he would be most nostalgic for were her reproaches – she had complained more than once about his disorder:

“Why do you always leave your books around?”she would scold him,but it had happened to him more than once to find some of her things out of place,shoes,needle and thread and her creations.

His eyes would no longer be graced by her figure,he could not dwell on some of her details,such as her hands leafing through a page of a book or those same hands that masterfully and gracefully sewed,her fingers tapered around a pen as she wrote,her concentrated expression that formed small wrinkles on her forehead,her long hair that were always illuminated in the morning by a ray of sunshine coming from the window.

Aemond had promised himself not to ruin that last month before the departure,but from the expressions Y/n had thrown at him in those days,he had not succeeded at all.

He silently pleaded her to look at him with those eyes full of wonder.Let him feel what her lips can't say,let him look into the dark wells that look like the iron of his magnet every time. Aemond can never stop staring at her,first one then the other part of her body.

His fingers leave hers,the warm place of her palm;but it's just the distance of a moment, because he need to feel her under his fingertips.Aemond gently caress Y/n cheek to make her turn towards him,her big eyes finally in his,but she seem almost surprised,as if she saw him for the first time.She looked at him almost as she didn't know him,like him and her weren't in the same bed.

«Don't do that,»Aemond spoke softly«don't look at me like that or I'll start crying again.»his fingers are shaking,on her soft cheek.

«I can’t help it.»Y/n murmured,leaning in his warm touch«Every time that i leave i wish i could take a piece of you with me.»she said.

«I’m always with you»he reassured her lovingly«as you are always with me.»he played with the Valyrian steel ring on her finger.

A dragon and a rose decorated with red rubies,one for him and one for her,his gift for their wedding day and something too look at and keep close when the sea and their family divided them.

The light breeze makes him tremble,and he rest his head on her chest.His breath stops again when he feels her approach the top of his head and leaving a kiss in his hair,sweet,light to the point that he almost doesn’t feel it.Aemond release his restrained sigh trembling,as small pearls accumulate on the eyelid.He wanted Y/n closer,now that he feels her under his skin and hidden in his heart.

Aemond can't get enough of it,if it were up to him,he would live like this,stuck in her arms forever.He feels good.He feels at home.Despite this,every breath she take shakes his chest.

It happens every year and every time he ask himself how he will survive?He prayed every day for the gods to give his father a quick and painless death so that his half sister can come to sit on the Iron Throne and have Y/n always there with them both at the same time.

This sharing method,this sick idea came from his father rotting brain and Aemond hated him even more than he had ever did.It wasn’t a secret that the King favored his oldest child,his daughter Rhaenyra,more than his other children.He named her his heir,he spent his time with her and gave her everything that she wanted on a silver plate.

Aemond and his siblings were left with pretty much nothing.He didn’t received justice when he lost his eye and he didn’t received what he wanted without Rhaenyra getting in the way,as always.

After he and Y/n had escaped together,flying with their dragons to Essos,they lived peacefully and in love in the free city of Lys before their uncle Daemon had found them.

To put an end to the hatred between the Queen and the old princess,that came screaming in the King chambers about how his son had kidnapped her only precious daughter,Aemond and Y/n were married but only if both the groom and mother of the bride were able to share her presence.

Y/n would’ve spent the cold seasons with her husband at the Red Keep and the warm ones with her mother at Dragonstone,till the King would die.

Aemond loved Y/n more than anything,he always did.He was more than willing to compromise if that meant call her his wife,to be able to live with her.

But sometimes was it really enough for him to hold on to her chest,have her close to him,to breathe the same air as her?What if one day they would have to keep play this chasing each other between the planets and he lost her?What if they were to count the flowers from the moon and she slipped away?What if they were to take the bright shells to the bottom of the ocean and she was to become a wave foam?

What if once Rhaenyra will become Queen,she will forbid them to be together once for all?Once that she will have all the power,will she try to separate them forever?

She wouldn’t,this marriage was for the peace and by breaking it war will be brought upon the House of the Dragon.

Aemond often thought about that too.His love for Y/n was brighter and warmer than a million suns,he would go to war with a smile on his face if that meant having her for himself only.He was a selfish man,he desired her body,her heart,her time to be only his not to be shared with her mother.

What if one day,all of this system wasn't really enough for him anymore?If he was to feel that he wanted Y/n even closer,even closer than that,how will he do it?If all this beating of forgotten hearts no longer made him live peacefully,if this eye will no longer be able to detach from her?What will he do with this chest that does not rise,laying eye on her in the morning,when she is still sleeping and she is serene,as serene as she is when she is not awake?

But then he looks at her,as fragile as a dandelion and as brave as a wildflower.She had followed him that night,when he asked her to escape with him,without hesitation.She knew what the consequences would’ve been,but instead of be concern about them,she kissed him and told him that she would follow him to the end of the world.It was all worth it.

«You should get a tattoo.»Aemond spoke suddenly,kissing down her naked chest«I heard that in Penthos a woman with blue hair is fully covered in them.»he mumbled,tasting the silky and warm skin.

He inhales deeply,like he was addicted,wanting to bottle his wife smell,her perfume and sweat and her jasmine soap and home fragrance.She always smells like home.

«And where do you think I should do it?»Y/n asks with indulgence,lying on pillows,her hands playing with her husband hair as she lets him have fun with her body for the fourth time since last night.

«Right here.So that I’ll be the only one able to see it.»Aemond said,biting the bone of her left hip making her yelp,his hands wandering along her smooth thighs.

«Oh?»Y/n giggled,peering at the young man,his hair ruffled by early morning sex and positively glowing skin,looking so perfect that it almost hurts.

She often wonders what good she ever did to deserve to call this perfection hers.When she has escaped with him and spent the most beautiful time of her life with him,she had agreed to her grandfather orders to grant the wishes of her mother.Spending the cold months with him was more than enough if that meant be with him in the first place,if it meant having him between her legs,having him tell her that he loved her more than anything in the world and that he would burn it down if someone dared to separate them forever.

«I'm going to tattoo something here,»Aemond kissed the red marks he made with his teeth,satisfied.«So I can caress it with my tongue like this.»he goes on to lick her skin,and it tickles,so Y/n laughs,but a small choked moan comes out.

«What are you going to draw?My mother face?»She jokingly proposes,trying to wriggle away.

«I'll write “My husband property” if you don't be behave.»Aemond growls at the mention of his half sister,tightening his grip on Y/n bare legs to hold her steady.

She laughs again and her heart hurts,as much as she loves her mother,Y/n knew this is happiness.Aemond,her husband,the man that she loves is happiness.

«But I don't want a tattoo.»Y/n whispered, losing the thread of speech when Aemond mouth gets closer and closer to her heat.

«Isn't there something you want to remember? Something you want to keep forever while we are not together?»Aemond gasps down at her feminine center,his breath blowing over the already wet flower.

Before that he can continue,he feels her pulling him up,Y/n mouth that clings to his,luring him into a deep,languid kiss that leaves both of them breathless and forgetting everything he wanted to say.

«As you said,we are always together.So I don't need tattoos when I have you.»Y/n breathed,her lips moving along Aemond ones,familiar and kind.

She observe the young man's pupil dilate,his sapphire shined under the light and his face blush before moving away slightly.

Before he could turn away from her,Y/n gentle hands grabbed his face.Her thumbs caressed his cheeks lovingly,before placing a sweet kiss on his forehead.

«I know something is bothering you.Talk to me.»she whispered in his hair,cradling his head in her chest making him lay on her.

«I can’t fool you,can I?»he commented, jokingly,enjoying her soft breast as pillows.

He hoped that it was enough to lighten the atmosphere,to take away that weight he had on his stomach.Why is it so simple for her?Or is it just a feeling?

An instant of silence followed.So heavy that it could almost break the room.

«What's wrong?»Y/n asked him,caressing his long hair to calm him down.

She knew something was off,because he had warned her,in these past few days that he wanted to tell her something.And she imagined that he didn't know how to approach the topic.

Aemond closed his eye for a moment,like he was taking courage to speak«It's hard for me,you know,to see you go away.»he breathed out the truth.

«When we got married it seems to me that you agreed.»she spoke softly«It was the only way to make sure that my mother wouldn’t gone crazy without me and to be with you»she reminded him.

For as much as he hated her,Aemond had understood that him and Rhaenyra were just the same.Both of them couldn’t live without her,a wife and a daughter.And they were more than willing to share her heart and time if that meant still having her with them.

«Of course,it’s not that.»he immediately said and paused a little, before continuing«It's that I'll miss you.»he whispered.

Y/n stopped her movements,tilted his head and looked for Aemond purple eyes.He was so good with words,he knew a lot more than she did and sometimes sported the more old ones just to hear her laugh,as he pronounced them with a certain accent: “No one talks like that anymore”she used to comment,giggling.

She had noticed that,when feelings were involved,his oratory skills were lacking.She knew how much it had cost him to make such an admission.There he is,her brave husband.

There were still those who associated the adjective strong with physical abilities,especially the more visible,but Y/n was aware that there were different types of strength.And in that moment Aemond had nothing to envy to the image of the knight in the shining armor on his white horse facing trials and obstacles to save the princess,the hero of the stories she loved as a child.

«I’ll miss you too.You know it.»she reminded him,tracing the scar on his eye with a delicate finger.

He knew it,but it didn't change things.That unpleasant feeling in the mouth of the stomach did not hint at disappearing.

«We are doing this for your father and my mother.Once my mother will be Queen we’ll be together all the time.»Y/n reassured him again,her voice was steady and calm.

«You and me or you and your mother?»Aemond joked,making her chest rumble with a small chuckle.

Then she turned serious«Since my father died she’s been very sad,I’m her only daughter..»she trailed off,looking somewhere in the room.

«You told me.You're too good.»he mumbled to himself.

While Aemond and Rhaenyra endured the whole situation,Y/n seemed to be the only one willing to change her lifestyle,to sacrifice her marriage to be close to her mother.Perhaps,if Aemond was in her place,since he also has a close bond with his mother,he would have been better to understand Y/n choice as a daughter.

For now the only thing he could do was to place his forehead on her shoulder.There's nothing else that can comfort him more than that.It's when he feel her arms begin to melt from his back traversed by millions of chills that his heart begins to sob.It's stronger than his desire to look like it,strong.She would leave him alone, in the warm and empty bed,getting up to look for everything that she will need at Dragonstone.

His gaze trailed down to her body,to the smooth skin covered in his presence as she got up from the bed to put on her nightgown.He’s sitting,and looks at those clouds hiding the warm rays of the sun.

«Will you help me with these?»Y/n gently asked him,as she held two dresses in her arms.

Aemond smiled,helping her getting ready to go away was like being stabbed in the heart.But he immediately got up from the bed to put his clothes on«Here,petal.»he said taking them from her.

Her trunk at the end of her bed was full of everything and it was almost impossible to put something else in there.

«I’m afraid that you will have to leave them here with me.»Aemond told her,placing the two dresses on their bed.

It wasn’t two simple dresses.The first one,the light lilac with lavanders embroidered on it was the one she wore when Aemond asked her to flee with him,the second one,the sea green with the silver seahorses was the one she wore when her grandfather had announced their betrothal.She couldn’t just leave them here.

«Damn it!»Y/n felt overwhelmed,between them she was the one that held all together,for both of them but now she was on the breaking point.

Aemond realized that it was time to intervene. He approached her,calmed her down and together they succeeded into fit the dresses in the white truck.Eventually they raised their heads and their eyes crossed.

Like this,eyes to eye,reading each other's emotions.

«You are my spring.Going away,you take her away with you and the only thing that it’s left is this cold,empty room.»Aemond said,taking her face in his hand.

He tried his best to be supportive and to not let her know his true feeling.This was the first time he confessed to her how he felt,when she was at Dragonstone.She could have imagined what sad and gray months would be his.

Their room wasn’t completely empty,so it wasn't a definitive goodbye,but despite repeating it endlessly it wasn't enough to reassure him once and for all.Everything that was previously colorful and alive lost those bright shades,assuming some more faded,it was as if the environment reflected his emotions,a bit like a plant that was wrinkling,slowly losing lifeblood.

Y/n would have brought that joy and warmth elsewhere.And it wouldn’t be hard to imagine Rhaenyra radiant face at the sight of her only and so loved daughter coming back to her.

Instead of living in spring,it would have been a long winter for Aemond.And,although spring was Y/n favorite season,without her he wouldn't been able to appreciate it in the same way.

«You could come away with me this time.»Y/n hopefully asked him,already knowing the answer.They had already discussed this.

«You know I can't,petal.»Aemond sighed.

His parents and Rhaenyra would not allow him to follow her.That was the deal and he had agreed to it to marry her.

«I know.I just wished to walk on the beach with you again.»Y/n said dreamlike,placing her arms around his neck«You know,like we did when we went to Lys.»she kissed his cheeks while hers bloomed with red at the memory.

«I'm not sure your mother would like it.She's convinced I kidnapped you.»Aemond looking into her beautiful eyes like he did on those nights in the free city.

She laughed«You do know how to charm a young,innocent princess.»she smiled placing her forehead on his and her hand on his cheek.

«For her I'm the bad guy,there's no doubt.»he closed his eye,to savor her touch.

He reminded her of a cat,eager for cuddles.His hand rested on top of hers,imprisoning her in that position,stretching that caress as much as possible.Y/n felt his fear in that gesture;he feared that she would leave out of the blue and that she would never come back.

For her it was a senseless fear,but she understood it:every now and then Aemond would be convinced that he did not deserve her love,that it was impossible for her to reciprocate his feelings.

«It depends on who tells the story.»she said with a small smile and winking at him.

«And in your version,what role do I play?»he asked then.

Although the question had been asked for fun,Y/n weighed it seriously.

«I'd say you're not a bad guy.Although you can be very vengeful of those who have wronged you...»she started,taking in all of his face,tracing the scar of his lost eye.

Aemond expression changed as if he wanted to say something,as if he wanted to disagree,but then he thought again.He couldn’t deny this.

«But you are not the hero either.»Y/n continued to look at him like she was studying him.

He didn't expect a similar statement,he didn't like it very much.

«You would be a complex character,one of those who either you love or hate.You know those characters neither black nor white,but halfway?»Y/n asked still rambling

«The gray characters?»he answered her question with a raised eyebrow.

She nodded immediately«The ones that have a depth to bring them closer to real people.They are complex,because they have feelings,motivations and desires,sometimes even conflicting.You've met some of them in your readings,didn't you?»she said with bright eyes.

It was not so common,but yes,he had happened to find characters characterized so well that he could imagine them in the flesh and blood next to him,to feel them so close as if they were friends,with whom he could have a good chat and with the wrong mood even get to fight.

«It would be fun to read your point of view,because it would never be boring.»she smiled at him,walking towards her things.

«Of course it wouldn’t.I always think about you.»Aemond confessed.

Y/n had convinced him,he did not feel sorry for not being considered among the good guys,because basically from that description one of his hypothetical literary counterpart would have been more interesting and the subject of several debates among readers.

«Anyway,you should remind your mother that it was your choice to come with me to Lys.I didn't forced you»Aemond told her as he watched her taking her silver hairbrush.

Y/n was sitting at her vanity,looking at her husband from the mirror in front of her as she brushed her long hair«But she knows,I told her about our story.She still sees me as her little girl,she can't fully accept the fact that i grew up and that i left the nest to have a life of my own.»she explained to him.

«The one who could kidnap you or hurt you in some way,if anything,it’s Daemon.»Aemond grumbled.

«Our uncle Daemon?My mother husband?»Y/n asked surprised«Why would you think that?»she said getting up to get dressed.

She thought it was a joke,but his expression was serious.It seemed a bit exaggerated as a statement to her.It was strange how the two men,who had never spoke to each other if not forced by the situation,felt a strong dislike for each other.

When Y/n was a Dragonstone,Daemon had admonished her more than once on Aemond:in his opinion,the time when he would leave her would come soon,because he would get tired of her.And it would make her suffer,and her uncle wouldn't have allowed it.

“The Hightowers are all the same.”her uncle said all the time.

“But he’s a Targaryen and the blood of the dragon runs thick.”she defended him always.

Although Y/n agreed on one thing: she would feel a lot of pain if Aemond really decided that he didn’t wanted her anymore.Daemon didn't know her husband at all,she was sure he would never leave her for a similar reason.

If Aemond ever decided to do it,Y/n was sure that he would put her well-being first,arguing that he would do it for her,that it would be the best choice,because then they could not continue like this.

Aemond would let her go,convinced that he couldn't offer her what she wanted and that one day she would find the right man for her.This was more his style.But to get to that point,it meant that he had stopped fighting and believing in them.And the same young man that had accepted this condition to marry her,would never leaver her.

Aemond walked slowly behind her,Y/n was putting on a canary yellow dress and his hands were there to help her to tie the laces,even though his body wanted nothing more but to strip her naked and get her in bed again.

«From what I heard and what you told me about him,he never made a good impression on me.He may be my uncle but I don't like him.Don't trust him too much,be careful.Do you promise me?»his skillful fingers tied the laces in few seconds as he voiced his concerns.

Y/n too had heard stories too about their uncle.On how his first wife mysteriously died,how he lusted over the throne,how quickly he married her mother after his second wife death.Maybe Aemond was right.

«Of course.I won't let my guard down.»she promised him.

At these words it seemed to her that his features stretched out a little.However,she did not find that relief in the depths of his eye.It was that dark purple that it assumed whenever her husband was worried or upset.Y/n almost always knew when negative,sad or gloomy thoughts crossed his mind.

Now that she was all dressed,a cloak on her upper arm and gloves in her hand she realized.Y/n had done her best not to get caught up in emotions,but at that moment she realized that in a few hours she would get on her dragon and leave Aemond behind.

For the months to come she would only be able to write letters to him,she would no longer be able to touch or hug him,they would not share meals together,they would no longer read and fall asleep together curled up on their bed.

If she had initially believed that maintaining a long-distance marriage was not as difficult as everyone claimed,she was now beginning to feel the weight of it.They should have found an alternative solution,she wasn't sure she would be able to endure many more years in this way.

As much as Y/n wanted to resist and leave him an image of a strong woman,she understood that she would not make it to hide the tears that were on the verge of flowing,so she threw herelf into his arms.

Aemond catch her immediately,as always.She could count on him,he would always be there for her.He was her lifesaver.He didn't ask her anything,but lovingly he consoled her,returning the hug.He also did it for himself,he needed it. In that hug he put the same impetus and the same suffering.

Y/n clung to him like a shipwrecked would have done to the rock,to not to get carried away by the waves of the sea,like her life was depending on it.Aemond inhaled her perfume to memorize it,avoiding the fear of forgetting everything about her.He didn't want to be like a puzzle without a piece,that empty space that incessantly attracted the sight,thus forgetting the image it depicted as a whole.

He was slightly dramatic,he knew it,but since Y/n was born and became a part of his life,he couldn't imagine a future without her.They lingered longer than they could,squeezed into each other,to draw strength from the other.

When it was time to separate.Y/n wiped her eyes and in a feeble voice said to him:«We'll make it.Spring and Summer will pass in an instant.»kissing him on the lips for the last time.

«I’m always here.I'll wait for you.»Aemond smiled at her.As soon as she turned around,a tear rolled down his cheek.

Six months will flew fast in the wind and with the first brown leaves,she was back to him again.

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blughxreader · 1 year

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Platonic Yandere!Batman x gn!Reader

Purge AU. Info on au. You receive your official government letter announcing a yandere's claim on you in tomorrow's Purge. Accompanying it are five crimson letters from the yanderes themselves. ~600 words

Dear [Name],

I want to take this first encounter to assuage your fears—you are in no danger.

The fear you must be feeling might be the most dreadful you’ve ever experienced, and I’ll forever regret it. While the monotonous bureaucracy of the Purge is taxing on everyone, it’s a necessary evil… Inside this letter, you’ll receive what brief explanation I can give you and, hopefully, comfort you in some capacity.

[Name], I’m your father, and this letter is my official and legal introduction. In the next 24 hours, I and your siblings will bring you home.

You don’t know this yet, but we met on a moonless evening many months ago. You were walking alone, trying to leave the emptying streets before Gotham’s evening crowd took hold of the city. I worried for you and decided to keep a close eye until you were home safely, but something about your demeanor kept my attention. How polite and unassuming, yet quick to navigate the streets you were. You drifted through the evening like a wayward spirit, eventually finding yourself in my heart and soul.

That chance encounter sent us spiraling down a destined path, one in which I never anticipated would lead to here. I never realized the grim darkness I had been living in until I experienced your light, and now, the day before our first meeting as father and child, the promise of eternal contentedness just beyond these 24 hours is almost too much to bear.

Your brothers and sisters are equally ecstatic. You’ll never be bored for a moment in your life moving forward, as the halls of our home are always thrum with the echoes of banter and excitement. I can’t promise it will be an easy life free from any sorrows, but your new family already loves you so, so dearly.

In time, I’m confident that you, too, will reflect on this event as the start of a better life.

However perfect your joining our family seems, I find myself asking how it came to this. How did I discover a soul as kind and lovely as yours? Despite all my failures and shortcomings, the world still crossed our paths and sent the merger of our lives into motion.

As a servant of justice, I’ve dedicated my life to protecting what is moral and just. I’ve spent decades refining my values and priorities, yet this has often left me at fragile crossroads between myself and my children.

I’m flawed. I’m imperfect. I don’t think I’ll ever be worthy of being your father. I need you to know these things before we meet, to save yourself from the inevitable misfortune that will strike us. Yet know this: there is not a force in this world that will keep me from you. I love you more than I love humanity, more than the Earth itself. I would defy the laws that govern the universe if it meant seeing you happy.

The world is dangerous and unpredictable. However inadequate I feel at protecting your light, I know you’re significantly more likely to fade from existence outside of my care.

To receive a crimson letter from the city a day before the Purge might be one of your darkest nightmares, and for that I’m sorry. With my heart, soul, and all my love for you, I promise to rectify the misery you and your biological family are experiencing. Please take comfort in the fact that you will be the most beloved and cherished person in the world.

I will give you everything. For your family’s sake, I hope they can rest easier with this knowledge.

Please remain put until we arrive.

See you soon.

Love,

Dad

Note... I love this self-hating old man. Damian's is finished and will be up soon! For more yandere batfam, visit my masterlist!

#platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere batman #yandere x reader #batfam x reader #purge au #yandere purge #yandere letter

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bucknastysbabe · 2 months

Note

hii, could you write smt abt aegon ii? 🥹 like kinda perv and loser stepbrother!aegon

YES I CAN! Hope you enjoy, getting back into my Aegon ways a bit! Xoxo

Just like that video! - Aegon II

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Loser perv step-bro Aegon, TW: alcohol abuse, underage (17) sexual moment, cocaine use, fat shaming, modern au, Aeg’s a shit but means well, Lannister reader, and they were step-siblings, lots of banter, pnv!sex, chubby!aeg, begging, family interactions, pseudo Incest and they get off on it, the panties were allowed to be kept

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @lovelykhaleesiii @sugarpoppss2 @fairysluna @thought--bubble @valeskafics @dr-aegon @targaryen-madness @starogeorgina @fallingintoyourlilaceyes

You had no choice but to come home for college this summer, being a lame freshman. Next year you planned on getting a place off-campus with some of your tennis teammates. You would go back to the mansion this summer, reluctantly.

The stupid mansion your family had inherited over generations. Casterly Rock. Now it was infested with your stepmother's weird fucking offspring, minus Daeron. You liked Daeron. Regardless, the youngest sibling could not protect you from the advances of Alicent's eldest son Aegon.

He was harmless, really. He currently was in a 'gap year' between his junior and senior years. The term gap year was a nice overcoat of gloss. You knew he had a bad coke and alcohol problem and needed to get straightened out. You hadn't seen the fucker since he was absent for most of the holidays in a sober-living program.

You had been home for about three hours now, isolating in your room, watching Hulu, bored as fuck. You had spoken to your father and Alicent while the servants brought up your belongings. Alicent asked politely, "How was nationals? You know we would have come but Daeron was graduating."

"We got our ass kicked, I wish I was there to see Daeron too. Where's his highness?"

Jason grumbled, "Eating the house."

Alicent's face soured slightly at the mention of Aegon. She hummed, "He's just working his program and staying sober until he can finish up school. Mainly mopes around, it'll be good for him to have you here." You nodded, holding your tongue. Jason snorted and said, "Make him get the hell off his ass or something, play tennis, who knows. Dinner's at eight."

It would be a boring summer. Maybe you could call up the Reyne or Tarbeck boys for some fun. You didn't particularly want to hang around your peaked and washed-up fratboy loser of a stepbrother. You remember from when you were younger and excited, your father was marrying into the royal family!

You were met with a toddling Daeron, shy and dreamy Helaena, intense Aemond, and Aegon. Who promptly pointed at your chest and scoffed, "Totally not like the porno huh? That's lame." You stood in abject Lannister horror, planning on his immediate downfall.

Instead, you grew up under the shadows of your strange siblings. Aegon was 4 years your elder and acted like he was still in middle school. He ignored or made fun of his 'stuck-up stepsister.' You had a strange interaction when he was home on a holiday You had just turned seventeen and Aegon was a junior. He was pretty bad off when he first came in with Criston, the guard holding him up.

Aegon was rail-thin, drunk as fuck, and a crying mess. You exchanged a look with Aemond, the other brother making a face of disgust. He whispered to you, "Dumbass is about to get kicked out of school, he's on academic probation right now. Or might I mention his raging alcoholism and cocaine addiction?"

The pair of you watched him get dragged off to your parent's room. You mustered a weak reply, "I knew he was a drunk but not that damn bad." Alicent had put him on Antabuse when he was in high school and then deemed him alright to go to college.

That night you'd gone out with the Westerlings to Lannisport, you had a fake ID yourself. Coming back you managed to score Aegon some blow and a bottle. You don't know why you did. Maybe it was that desire to gain his pointless approval. You did it anyhow, smuggling it into your purse. Criston didn't bat an eye, he thought you were the golden child, soon-to-be salutatorian, and a tennis scholarship to a good school in Oldtown.

You crept down the hall, Aegon had the big room on the corner of the second floor. Knocking on the door, a haggard Aegon moaned, "What? I feel like shit! Fuck off, Cole! Jason! Whoever you are!"

You yell-whispered back, "No dumbass it's me, I have something."

The door opened to a much sicker Aeg, eyes red-rimmed, skinny body trembling under a thick blanket. You gasped "What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have a virus?"

"No. Withdrawals. What did you bring me?" His violet eyes leered at your bodycon dress, making your cheeks heat up. He was handsome, stepbrother or fiend or whatever. You looked around and handed him the baggie and bottle. Aegon's eyes lit up and his smile brightened. He dragged you into his room, smelling of sweat and alcohol.

"Thank fuck, I needed this so bad, gods you are an angel."

You shrugged, standing there as he chugged some of the liquor, sighing in audible relief. He eyed you and asked, "You got a credit card?" Nodding in slight fear you rifled more in the purse and handed him the card. Aegon locked his door and got busy chopping up the coke. You pulled out your wine bottle and sat down, watching him drinking and shakily chopping up the white powder.

You ended up drunk as a skunk, Aegon absolutely cooked and giddy. He was making you laugh, chatting like you were a friend. Going so far as to inquire about your boring life. He seemed at ease, the dark cloud that would hang over Aegon had melted. The blonde looked at you with glassy eyes and hummed, "M'sorry for being a prick, you're not half bad."

"Sure, you're just happy I fueled your problem. Stuck up Lannister isn't that boring."

He laughed a bit, pretty teeth shining. Aegon asked, "Wanna watch this stupid movie? M'wired up right now." You gestured to the remnants of the coke and giggled, "I'd imagine, yeah come on then." You'd drunkenly climbed onto his huge bed, Aegon plopping on the other side, typing the movie into the big ass television.

It was funny, but somewhere along the way, Aegon had inched his way toward you. You had moved closer to him, snuggling into his side. The voice of reason was screeching in your head. Your stepbrother turned his face to yours, murmuring, "You're so fucking pretty you know that? I don't care how fucked up that is, I am fucked up."

You surged forward to meet his plump lips, Aegon's hand holding your cheek as he kissed you. He laughed darkly, nipping at your lip and sliding in a tongue. As the liplock grew more heated- spit-slick lips and tongues sliding against each other, Aegon rolled his frame atop yours, settling between your spread legs. Your dress rucked up to your panties from the movement, drawing a helpless whine from your throat.

This was disgusting, wrong, awful.

You arched into his touches on your hips, groaning into his mouth as you sensually kissed him, growing messier by the second. Aegon rutted a bit against your pussy, softly moaning and squeezing your waist. He murmured in your ear, "Mm, I know you're all wet for me, stepsis." Skinny fingers crawled to the edge of your underwear.

A deep pang of fear struck you, suddenly withdrawing and backing out of Aegon's amorous embrace. You shook your head, heart beating too fast, shame and guilt pounding your head in. The platinum-haired man stared in confusion, stuttering, "W-What the fuck? Are you okay? Hey!"

You shook your head, chest too tight to speak. grabbing the remnants of your debauchery you skittered out of his room, silent tears running down your face. You felt weird, you drew a line in the sand that would not wash away. With fucking Aegon. You could hit yourself.

The rest of the days he was icy. Icy all the way until he was going into rehab and further treatment. You didn't dwell on the experience until now, eyes darting towards his room. You would have to see him eventually. Passing by his door all you could hear was video game noises.

You locked the door to your room, a bit of anxiety peeping through. For the seven's sake, you were an adult now! You would be a polite sibling, Aegon was obviously sick at the time and trying to get well. He'd written you an apology from his sober living place and you wrote back a brief acceptance and gave well wishes. So it couldn't be that bad?

You'd take a nap and deal with your insane family later.

Sitting down at the dinner table, the normal-sized one, you chatted with your mother and Criston about tennis. Jason prepped some sort of penne dish with a salad. The sound of a chair being scooted back alerted everyone to another presence. It was Aegon. He murmured a quiet, "Hey. Nice to see you sis, sorry 'bout nationals."

"Thanks Aegon, how are you doing? Super proud of you."

You tried not to stare at your stepbrother but he had...changed. His hair had grown out to shoulder length and he'd put on weight. Nothing terrible, but it had to range somewhere in 50 pounds (23kg). The big sweatshirt and too-small joggers didn't quite help his case either.

"Yeah, it's not bad, ready to get back to school or do something before I go crazy."

Jason snarked, "A job is always a good idea huh?"

The awkward silence was permeated by an excited Daeron hugging you, still sweaty from soccer practice. You mock gagged and smiled at the little brother, batting him away. Criston hummed, "Dare's already started practicing at King's Landing U." You grinned, "Hell yeah! I'll come boo you when you play Oldtown!"

Things fell into a familiar rhythm besides Aegon scarfing his food up and excusing himself. Alicent called after him, "Where are you going, honey? Come visit with us." Aegon sighed, "I have a headache, sorry."

Your dad shook his dark blonde hair, rolling green eyes. He scoffed, "All Aegon does is eat and play video games. He'll be a fucking cow sooner or later."

You found yourself speaking up, "Would you rather have him chubby and sober or skinny and tweaked out Dad?"

Jason forked some pasta in his mouth, shaking his head. Criston broke the next stage of awkward silence. "Hey, he's almost at a year now. I'd never think I would see the day." Daeron nodded along. Dinner resumed to normal.

You had helped your father clean up, the conversation stunted and awkward. Lannister men had a tendency to never understand a woman, just a family thing. Some of your friends had fathers who didn't suck. Alicent tried and Criston was the occasionally cool uncle. Even if he wasn't related to any of you, just something that came along with being royal.

You spent some more time playing smash bros with Daeron, laughing and catching up after much needed time. It was late and you glanced at your phone. Marq Tarbeck had texted you back. You ignored it, yawning, "Alright Dare, I think it's time to hit the sack." His sleepy purple eyes seemed to agree as he got up, muttering about 'getting his nasty ass in the shower.'

Daeron split ways with you, going to his room nearby, and you up and across the mansion. Your room was also on the second floor- there was no way but to pass Aegon's room. Part of you wanted to check on him, it seemed like your father was hard on him. The other half said fuck it, he doesn't need to be babied. Still, you paused at his door, listening to the vague background noise of the television.

"F-fucking, god, baby," he groaned, muffled.

Your eyes widened in shock. A drawn out moan of your name made you freeze. Aegon rambled, "Knew you'd be so cute taking my dick stepsis. Gods!" His deep voice made you tremble slightly. Your imagination painted an image of Aeg spread out, fisting his cock, thickened thighs flexing. His plump lips would be extra swollen, those cute chubby cheeks blotchy.

Oh Gods. You couldn't. He was having a private moment and you stood outside his door like a weirdo. Then your phone began to ring. A loud buzzing as you frantically switched it off, fucking Tarbeck! With a pitiful whine you tried to book it away to your room.

"Get your ass back here!" came Aegon's whisper-yell.

You paused, hand over your mouth. Fucking fuck, you thought.

"C'mon, get over here, I heard you."

You dramatically groaned and shuffled to Aegon's doorway, eyes downcast, blushing heavily. A finger tilted your chin up, you reluctantly looking at his smug face. Aegon hummed, "Did you want a look-see or just to listen? You're just slumming it now huh? No Reynes or Tarbecks?"

You gritted out, "I was going to check on you, but then I heard my name. Of course I'd be curious to why you were moaning it."

Aegon rolled his eyes, scoffing, "So. Jig's up. I stole your pretty little lace panties to fuck too. Since I'm a man of honesty now."

Arousal laced up your stomach, pussy throbbing at the actual desperation this fucker was giving off. You panted a bit, shouldering him aside. Your panties were indeed on the bed, thoroughly used. Gaping at Aegon he shrugged, basking in the debauchery. Guess being sober didn't change him from being a little pervert.

You muttered, "I can't believe you."

"I tried to fuck you did I not? I remember how eager you were."

Glancing at his lidded eyes and frankly punchable face you kissed the man, gripping at his oversized sweatshirt. Aegon seemed surprised, inhaling sharply before grabbing your ass and returning the kiss with vigor. He murmured, "You aren't running away- hah- this time." He squeezed your ass hard, lips intense against yours.

Pressing yourself to his soft belly he stiffened a bit, apoligizing, "M'not very in shape, too many sweets, cock's the same." You shrugged, pulling his heavier frame atop your own, a thick thigh slotted between your sinewy legs. He groaned softly, hands pulling at your shirt impatiently.

He grunted while shucking off his sweatshirt, elbow about to take you out. You yelped and ducked, Aegon guffawing. "Sorry?" He chuckled. Shaking your head you pulled on his longer hair and resumed the earlier attentions. The blondie rudely unsnapped your bra, shoving you up the bed at the same time.

Pulling away with a snarl you exclaimed "Fucking hell are you going to manhandle me around the bed or kiss me?"

Aegon deadpanned, "Wanna see you naked. Going to do that for me this time? Nice tits by the way, I can say it's like the porno now."

You growled and shoved down your shorts and underwear, somehow turned on by his shithead attitude and stupid grin. Pointing at him you hissed, "Your turn. Those briefs looking a little tight anyways." Aegon snorted, laughing at you again while shimmying his ill-fitting briefs off. His violet eyes greedily roved over you, the shameless perv.

"Happy Lady Lannister?" He asked while gesturing to his hard cock.

"Much better, get over here."

Aegon pulled you by the legs, thick waist keeping your thighs spread, fat cock rudely shoved flush against your embarrasingly wet pussy. He pressed teasing little kisses across your throat, grasping hands all over your tits and ass. You mewled- rutting a bit against him, utterly pinned by his heavier weight.

"Gods- Aegon, you- gods!" you wheedled, shaky hands digging into his shoulders, slipping down to his plush hips and squeezing. He moaned and began to slide against your slit, eyes rolling erotically. Aegon rasped, "Been so fucking long- know you're tighter than I ever dreamed of. Little cocktease."

He took your mouth again, a possessive hand grabbing your chin, lips and tongue domineering and invasive. You were quickly becoming a puddle, whining as you tried to keep up, unable to focus as the bulbous tip of Aegon's thick cock jerked against your needy clit. Your stepbrother groaned raggedly, "Lion? Mewling kitten huh baby sis?" You whined again, jerking against him to claw at his shoulder.

"That's it, lemme see you try."

You huffed in frustration, nipping Aegon's puffy lips, trying to rut back against him. He laughed into your mouth, rough hands planting on your tits, thumbs swiping across your peaked nipples. You cried out into his warm mouth, shivering as Aegon alternated between dizzying little circles with the pad of his thumb or pinching and pulling roughly.

"Ah, mmm, fuck, fuck you, get- get a condom- oh my gods!"

Aegon groaned in annoyance. "We're literally rich, just go get a plan B."

"Get your lazy ass up and grab it!"

"Sound just like your father, gonna call me fat next?"

You stared at him, waiting. Aegon made a whole deal about heaving himself up and ungainly rolling to his side table, rifling through. "You're not even fat, sure are acting like it though, huffing about nothing," you replied. The prince returned with a condom, tearing the packet with his teeth. As he rolled it on the buffoon asked "Is it that bad? Be honest. The weight, I mean."

Alicent had made some weird fucking kids. You glanced around Aegon's body. He looked better than the last time you fooled around, actually healthy in appearence. The man took the brunt around his midsection, wide striped hips and a soft pooch. It appeared there was a slim layer of softness around his thighs, arms, and face. He seemed nervous now, that creeping insecurity.

"You look good. Healthier than being a skeleton. I don't see an issue. Maybe dress a bit snappier?"

He smirked, blushing and cursing, "Oh fuck off, I guess if you deem it alright. Let's fuck, yeah?"

You nodded with a grin, sealing your lips onto his own, wrapping your thighs around him tight. Both of you moaned as he slipped in, stretching your tight pussy out. Gods it felt good, the girth dragging against your sensitive spots. His hips stuttered a bit, hands clamping on your hips as he swore. You goaded Aeg on, digging your heels into his ass and whining his name.

Aegon pecked your mouth one more time, tucking his face into your neck, thighs heavily smacking your hips as he fucked. You yelped at the sudden movements, shivering in delight. Aegon grunted on every thrust, gasping against your neck before sinking his teeth in to grace your delicate skin.

You could do nothing but take his relentless bullying of your sensitive hole, thick tip drilling your sweet spot as he changed angles with a sharp inhale. Goosebumps littered your skin, sweat building between the pair of you. Your whines and his groans made a lurid cacophony, the slapping of flesh and the squelch of your own cunt.

Aegon panted, "Such a tight fuckin' pussy, made for me, s'good."

You arched feebly into his soft stomach, tits rubbing against his own. All you could manage was crying Aegon's name, tightening around him. You begged "Please, Aeg, touch me, touch me please, m'gonna cummm!" He growled in reflex, hips jerking particularly rough into the soft roof of your pussy.

"Yeah baby? Need your clit rubbed so you can come all over my dick? Beg some more, want you to mean it."

He slapped your thigh, smirking with lust blown pupils. Your eyebrows had knit together, the burning coil of ecstasy tightening into a ball. You just really really really needed Aegon to play with your clit. In the most embarrassing mewl you begged again. "Aeeegon, please! It fucking hurts, m'so swollen for you, please stepbrother, lemme cum, it-it'll feel so good!"

You sobbed in frustration, Aegon rumbling, "Mhm, I gotcha, needy little slut for a step sister. Fuck, you're gonna make me blow." His thumb and forefinger pinched and rubbed your flushed bundle of nerves, your stepbrother slapping a hand down on your wailing mouth. His hips stuttered, eyes rolled again as you clamped down on his twitching cock.

He babbled something, frantically swiping your nub until you released in a gush of slick, shivering from head to toe. Aegon made a gutted noise, his full weight baring down as he sloppily fucked himself out, groaning in near agony. He stiffened and whimpered your name, lips hanging agape as his cock emptied into the condom. Your pussy throbbed and twitched as you stared at the ceiling, hand in Aegon's platinum hair.

He groaned softly, "Ffffucking hell Lannister, you little demon."

Aegon groaned and slid out, laying on his back, pudgy belly heaving as he gathered some breath. You were just as limp, trying to formulate a sentence. Aegon tied off the condom and haphazardly threw it into a trash bin. You wrinkled your nose but managed to make the sluggish movements into his soft side. He was much more cuddly with the extra weight and post-orgasm haze.

Aegon wrapped a lazy arm around you, lips slightly curled up. He hummed, "You aren't going to run this time are you?"

"No. I don't think I will. We can tell Dad we're getting you lots of exercise now huh?"

"Just like the porno."

"Shut up."

#read the tw and tags #aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #modern au

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artoutoftheblue · 1 year

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"Sounds more like pain than therapy"

Most likely what happened after they were fixed, Sun immediately saw Blaze, then ran to a corner of the room, knocked a table over, and hid behind it. He wasnt going to leave that spot until Blaze left

Anyways self therapy sounds fun

CSS Blaze and Moon belong to @churchydragon

#I dont think I can stop now #fnaf security breach #daycare attendant #breaking the bounds au #celestial siblings show au #soldier solar #css blaze #css moon #blues art #art for others #btb x css #servant sun

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harmonysanreads · 1 month

Note

Since your requests are open, might I suggest vamp lord Venti? Or perhaps something with the vamp lords in general?

i'm glad there's one other person besides me who's interested in the archons as vampire!lords lolol i wasn't sure what to title this but please, accept this humble drabble of them being the siblings ever. note : darling's relationship with nahida is strictly platonic!

This is an extension of this and this concept, which are branched from my vampire!alhaitham au :> written with a yandere setting in mind but nothing of that sort is really going on here, unless you squint.

wc : 1.2k

“Seriously, what was that blockhead thinking when making them share a room with a half-blood vampire of everything?”

“If you can even call this closet a room, Barbatos. There's not even space for us to take an extra step!”

If the word ‘baffled’ would be a person, that'd be you at this instance. You stare questioningly at the figures that now occupy your room, the buzzes of their comments on the poor accommodations that they had provided flies over your head as easily as they leave the lords' lips. A moment’s interlude and five servants enter next, meticulously weaving through the existent personnel.

“Well, I can't say I wasn't expecting this. Half-bloods have weaker impulse control, especially when they have not been ‘fed’ properly. There's no way Morax couldn't have known this. So, he must've had other intentions.”

The lord praised for her unmatched wisdom chimed, inspecting the residual stains of blood on the otherwise vacant walls with curious green eyes. At the side, the lord clad in ocean blue conducts the servants to gather your belongings with haste and the master of songs remained beside your person in his nonchalant haze.

“Uhm, M'lord, am I getting kicked out…?”

Barbatos's gleaming teal eyes meet your tentative gaze. With a chuckle, he places his beret on your head. Instead of words he answers you with a hearty squeeze on your cheeks and you yelp.

“My birdie, how could that thought even cross your head?” even a blind person could feel the pout on the lord's lips. You make a few unsuccessful attempts at riposte and at last succumb to the assault on your cheeks — the sight of which has Barbatos's grin stretched till his fangs peak.

“Cut it out, Barbatos! They've yet to recover from their wounds. You can save your ‘affection’ for a later day.” the lord celebrated for her stage prowess huffs, arms crossed and indignant at the handsy behavior of her fellow Vampire Lord.

The accused vampire frees your cheeks from his clutches. Though you're not gifted with reprieve as his right arm coils around your shoulders next. “You speak as though I'm the most ignorant being to exist! Dear [Name], why don't you tell good Focalors here how much you enjoy being the recipient of my affection?”

You sputter at the heat of the two lords’ gazes. Luck shines upon you and your savior interferes with a cough.

“Allow me to apologize on behalf of everyone, [Name]. Had I been more persistent in ensuring that you wouldn't have to be roommates with that half-blood, this accident wouldn't have happened. I'm truly sorry.”

Nahida's heartfelt condolences paint the atmosphere in a subtle somber hue. Pupils of green flicker to and fro the fresh bandages wrapped around your neck and wrists. You feel Barbatos's fingers tighten around you ever so slightly, it is not until Focalors' chiding words echo that the silence cracks.

“Buer, Buer, Buer. For how long will you continue to take responsibility for others' carelessness?”

“Well, at least she has the courtesy to apologize,” Barbatos idly twirls a strand of your hair, “Unlike a certain brutish blundering buffoon.”

It's quite apparent to you who he addresses so vehemently, though, you're not certain what the cause is behind their blood feud. It's not like you expected to be treated like royalty in a palace full of lethal predators, no one has heard a vampire ever treating a human kindly. You'd even say you were no greater than a slave to everyone in this place, so, the lords' current care confused you greatly.

“Actually, Lord Morax invited me for breakfast this morning. He told me that even he wasn't expecting my ‘roommate’ to betray his command and attack me.”

All eyes snap towards you as those words settle from your lips, you cannot hold back your concern at how quickly they turned their heads.

“He did?” Focalors asks incredulously, the lock of hair Barbatos was twirling falls from his grasp dramatically.

“Yes…he even told me that Lord Shogun had ‘taken care of’ my roommate, whatever that means.” you mutter with uncertainty, gaze flickering between their wide-eyed stares.

Barbatos is the first to recover from that collective befuddlement, “Well, looks like they did something good for once.” he lets go of your shoulder and you almost miss the flash of irritation in his normally tranquil teal eyes. You note how unsettling he sounds with the absence of playfulness. The weight of the lord's beret reminds you of the barrenness of your room and your initial confusion of why they barged in, in the first place.

“Am I really going to be kicked out of the palace?”

Your question comes out more melancholic than intended but, it does its job in getting the vampires' attention. Barbatos begins with a spring in his speech, completely disregarding his earlier odd countenance.

“About that, my birdie, because you're such a delicious mea—ow! I mean, such a precious human, we've decided that from today onwards, your new roommates will be…us!”

Furina's elbow retreats as Barbatos rubs the side of his abdomen with a spiteful look. She takes his beret off of your head and replaces it with her own hat, hurling the former object towards the green-clad lord's face.

“Now, I know what you're thinking, petit agneau. Each of us will be sharing our quarters with you every month. Meaning, one month you'll be my roommate, the next Buers, then Barbatos's and it'll rotate like this. Isn't that the most excellent idea?”

Judging by Furina's boisterous laughter and the sparkles that float around her, you surmise it must've been her proposal. All of this is happening too quickly and too out-of-nowhere. You're not naive enough to believe that their sudden initiatives are born from unadulterated kindness. In this hidden corner of the world where the self-interest of a stronger life form dominates the hierarchy, it's foolish to rule-out any possibilities of hidden agendas. But precisely due to that reason, clinging to the few opportunities of benevolence are inconsequential for survival — that, in itself, is another form of self-preservation.

“So, I'll be staying with you this month, Lord Focalors?” you ask.

“Well… who'll be the first in the rotation actually hasn't been decided yet.”

“I’ll be the first one.” Nahida, who'd been silent thus far proclaimed ; you tilt your head down to find her dainty fingers holding onto your hand.

Focalors and Barbatos remain frozen with gaping mouths for a few seconds, likely because they were about to say the same thing.

“If I may jog your memory, you both have been tasked with arranging this year's annual spring gala. No doubt you'll both be busy with your own work to pay attention to [Name]. So, it's only logical that she stays with me, isn't it?”

True to her title, Nahida leaves no room for further arguments with her reasoning. A ‘you have a point’ full of disappointment leaves the other two in unison. You catch Nahida's wink as you peer down at her and it makes you wonder. You can never guess what she's thinking but, she's been the only one who's shown you genuine care since you signed your contract with the Vampire Lords. There's a certain... peace about her presence that you can reluctantly believe in, compared to the flightiness of the others, at least.

You spare one last look at the place you used to call your room, the splatters of your own blood remind you again of the terrors of this palace. With a deep breath, you choose to swallow your fear and follow their lead, for now, at least.

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fantasyescapes17 · 11 months

Text

Scandal (Part 3)

The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) is beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.

Genre: Wonwoo x Female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Joshua's sibling so your maiden name is Hong but the reader has no other physical characteristics.

Warnings: This part has some discussion around character(s) struggling with mental health and dark thoughts including one or two which are not explicitly (but could maybe be perceived as borderline) suicidal.

Word Count: 7k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Series Masterlist [Reading Candle and Manners, the earlier installments in this series first is strongly recommended as main character dynamics are introduced there.]

The Jeons' countryside estate was vast and spacious. Mr. Jeon Wonwoo was the eldest son of a rich noble family and although his wealth could not compare to the fortune possessed by a Viscount- it was still nothing to sneer at. The Jeon manor towered over a lake and was surrounded by a pleasant little garden and blooming green fields.

It was more remote than you had expected. The estate was followed by swathes of farmland and the nearest village was well over a mile away.

It was late evening by the time your carriage rattled up to the front entrance.

Mr. Jeon helped you down and you were greeted immediately by a host of servants that lined up outside the front gates upon your arrival. The head housekeeper hurried forward to greet you; she was an older woman with greying hair and a kind smile.

"Mr. Jeon!" she welcomed him warmly.

You looked at Mr. Jeon from the corner of your eye, and were shocked to see him give her a small smile. You had never seen him smile other than a mere dispassionate curl of his lip or a smirk.

This was a genuine, warm smile.

"Mrs. Betsy. It is really wonderful to see you looking so well," Mr. Jeon greeted her kindly before turning to you. "This is Mrs. Betsy- she has been the head housekeeper at the estate since before I was born."

You nodded simply. "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Betsy."

She beamed at you. You realised immediately from the warm reception and big smile on her face that she had no idea of the circumstances of your wedding. The household staff were evidently under the impression your marriage with Mr. Jeon was… normal.

"We always knew Mr. Jeon would find a young lady that could persuade him to marry," Mrs. Betsy gushed as she took Snowball from your arms and led you up the entrance stairs. "Of course- I never imagined- is it quite true, madam, that your brother is a Viscount?"

Mr. Jeon was not far behind and he cleared his throat.

"Mrs. Betsy…" he said in a gentle warning tone.

The housekeeper blushed.

"My apologies, Mrs. Jeon. We are merely curious about the young lady that could capture our master's heart. Supper is ready; you must both be very tired from the long journey. I will show you up to your rooms and the ladies' maids will help you dress."

You were guided by the ladies' maids into a large bedroom that was beautifully decorated. The pastel-colored linens were fresh and the dressing table was ornate, spotless, and filled with everything you could need.

Two maids worked quickly to help you dress for supper.

"We have placed you in the master suite since the elder Mr. and Mrs. Jeon are settled year-round in London and rarely come down to the country," the maid informed you as she swiftly did your hair. "Mr. Jeon Wonwoo's room is adjacent and…" she trailed off and let out a giggle. "There is a connecting door between your rooms."

You looked towards the door and sighed in relief.

Thank goodness. You would have preferred the bedrooms to be entirely separate, but that was wishful thinking. At least the servants did not expect you to share a bedroom with your new husband. A connecting door could easily be closed and you and Mr. Jeon could each retain your privacy.

Once you had been allowed to change into an evening dress, you were guided down to supper by the maids. To your surprise, they turned away from the enormous dining room and instead led you into the garden. Underneath a large oak tree, the household staff had set up a small, intimate table, two chairs, and a number of twinkling candles.

You swallowed nervously as all the servants left.

Mr. Jeon stood and pulled out a chair for you.

"I apologise if you are uncomfortable," he said quietly as you sat down and he took the seat across from you. "Mrs. Betsy took it upon herself to arrange what she believed would be a… romantic supper for our wedding night."

"She seems very thoughtful," you mumbled.

Mr. Jeon nodded. "I did not think you would want me to inform the servants about the particulars of our marriage. They are unaware. But if this is uncomfortable for you, and you wish for me to ask them not to overstep-"

You shook your head. "It is fine."

Mr. Jeon relaxed into his seat. The distant chirping of crickets filled the silence of the evening. It would have been a very romantic dinner if the circumstances had been different. If you had actually married this man out of love, or at the very least some mutual admiration. The serenity of the garden at night, the way the candlelight cast teasing shadows over Mr. Jeon's sharp jawline and dark eyes….

He reached across you to seize the bottle of wine on the table, and uncorked it in one fluid movement.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to your empty glass.

"That is…" inappropriate, you caught yourself about to say. But it was not. You were alone in your home having supper with your husband. A little alcohol in his presence was nothing unusual or improper. "Yes," you corrected yourself. "Yes, please."

He poured you a glass and gave it to you silently. You sipped the wine and took a deep breath.

"Mr. Jeon-"

He interrupted you. "You are free to address me by my given name. The servants will consider it strange indeed if you continue to call me Mr. Jeon in our home."

You bit your lip. Enough boundaries had been crossed between you both for one day, in your opinion. Intimacy of that level would not come easily.

"Perhaps… in time."

Mr. Jeon blinked in surprise but did not press the point. He poured himself a glass of wine and sipped it quietly. You looked at the delicious food and then at the silent, brooding man sitting across from you.

It was pointless to expect him to make conversation- you knew Mr. Jeon better than that. He was perfectly comfortable with silence.

"Did you grow up here?" you asked lightly.

He nodded. "Yes; my sister and I spent our childhood at this estate until I left for my schooling at Oxford."

"The housekeeper seems to know you well."

"She does."

The conversation died out. There was nothing left to do but sip your wine. The glass was soon empty and Mr. Jeon watched-but made no comment- when you reached for the bottle and poured yourself a second glass.

Once the second glass had been duly ingested in silence, you could feel the light buzzing in your head and your tongue felt looser.

"Of all the things I imagined about my future since I was a child," you began slowly, prodding at your half-finished plate with a fork. "I could never have imagined that my wedding night would be like this."

Mr. Jeon raised an eyebrow.

"Did you spend a lot of time as a child imagining your wedding night?"

You gave him a sharp look. "You are a man. What would you understand about what a young girl thinks about? Marriage is the singular most important event in a woman's life. Everything she does from the moment she is old enough to speak is all leading up to the eventuality of her marriage."

Mr. Jeon was silent.

"Learn French, Latin and Greek- practice drawing, dress impeccably, smile the right way, practise the art of engaging conversation-" you trailed off and raised an eyebrow at your husband. "I am quite sure nobody has ever asked you to practise the art of engaging conversation, Mr. Jeon."

"Perhaps not," he remarked lightly.

"I did it all. Every bit of it. Years of lessons, and practice and training to ensure that I was the most desirable young lady in the room. You might call it vanity, Mr. Jeon. But that is what young women are taught to value. Their beauty, their talents and their virtue."

"You still possess all those things," he told you quietly.

"Yes," you said with a dry laugh. "And now I have no need of them. They are the most useless things in the world to me. They failed to protect me. For all their worth, they could not protect me from complete societal ruin caused by a momentary lapse of judgement."

Mr. Jeon's silence continued.

"But," you said with a sigh. Your head was beginning to ache. "Of course, this is a waste of time. I will hardly find a sympathetic ear in you, Mr Jeon- a man who considers me so vain and spoiled that he believes I intentionally make my friends cry by attempting to outshine them at the piano."

"That is not-"

"And for your information," you cut him off with a frown. "I was not trying to make Miss Brooke feel inferior by playing the most difficult piece I knew. Miss Brooke was the last thing on my mind. I was trying to flirt with you. All my attempts that evening had fallen quite flat and I thought at least an impressive performance on the piano would make you pay attention to me."

Mr. Jeon's ears had turned pink. He pressed his lips together and gently took your empty wine glass away from you.

"I think perhaps you have had too much wine," he said softly.

You bristled at the suggestion.

"You need not worry, Mr. Jeon. I am under no delusion that I might have any impact on you. You are perfectly welcome to sleep in your own bedroom and go about your own business and seek… pleasure elsewhere, if you so choose. Please do not feel any compulsion to cater to my vanity. It is quite clear to me that our happiness is not to be found in each other."

His expression was unreadable. He swiftly corked the wine bottle and stood up.

"I think we had best retire for the night."

"That sounds excellent," you replied. You stood too quickly. Your legs felt shaky, but Mr. Jeon was by your side immediately and took your arm to steady you.

"Careful-"

"I am fine," you mumbled. Your senses were flooded with Mr. Jeon all at once- his large, warm hands grasping your bare arms and his soothing scent invading your thoughts. You looked up at him. His dark eyes were watching you with a tinge of worry.

"You will fall, if you are not careful-" he pressed.

"I am fine. I can walk, thank you."

He released you. You stepped away from him and went upstairs to your personal bedroom, where you ordered the surprised ladies' maids to leave you alone before locking the connecting door between your bedrooms.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

If the lack of marital relations on your wedding night did not make it abundantly clear to the household staff that something was wrong with your marriage, then your continued distance from your husband over the next few months was more than sufficient to send the message.

Wonwoo threw himself into handling business and matters of the estate. His reasoning (though he never said so) seemed to be that the less you saw or spoke to each other, the less chance there was for conflict or arguments. He spent long periods of time away from home handling these ‘matters of the estate’ that you were told little about. On the rare occasions that he was at the manor, he locked himself in his study for hours on end. Sometimes it felt like you lived alone with the housekeepers and maids.

There was nothing to do. You were simply alone for the most part with nobody but Snowball and your increasingly melancholy thoughts to keep you company.

Mrs. Betsy tried, the kind soul. She showed you the large library and persuaded you to take walks in the garden and engaged you in light conversation. She even insisted you accompany her on her weekly trip down to the village to buy supplies; but you found little pleasure in the activity. The villagers seemed wary of you and everyone involved appeared to think that the new wife of the local nobleman had no business walking around the vegetable market.

Endless days turned to weeks and months.

Nothing interested you. You received letters often; from Joshua, the Viscountess, your mother, and even Ella. But gossip from London was only a dull reminder of the life you had left behind. News that would have excited the old Miss Hong had almost no impact on the new Mrs. Jeon. Your responses to them were rare and brief. What could you even write about? There was nothing to report. Every day was exactly the same.

Being alone with your thoughts was the worst part of this. Snowball was, of course, your companion- but his inability to converse or comprehend your emotions meant that even his presence could not drag you out of the downward spiral that you found yourself falling into. You were at the mercy of your own thoughts night and day.

Was this life? Was this how it was to be?

What were you even living for?

The question cropped up in your mind often and you contemplated it deeply; not out of despair but as a genuine, genuine curiosity. You could not return to London society, but at the same time, you had no purpose here. You were married to a man who did not care to speak to you. Indeed, you were nothing more than a burden to Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. You ate the food he provided and sat in his drawing room and lived in his home without providing anything in return.

His home.

For although the months passed, it only became increasingly clear to you that no length of time would ever make this place your home.

You sat absently at the fireplace one evening, wrapped in a warm blanket and staring into the crackling fire while lost in your grim contemplations when Mr. Jeon entered the room.

Snowball ran to greet him; the little Pomeranian had warmed up to your husband early on in your marriage. He gave her a little pat before turning to you.

“Have you had supper?” he asked you.

You nodded.

“Mrs. Betsy says that you have not moved from that chair all day,” he said slowly. You looked up at him. Mr. Jeon was in his riding clothes. He had evidently just returned from a journey. You did not know where he had been. His dark hair was tousled and his jaw clenched tightly.

You blinked. “My apologies. Was I expected elsewhere?”

He stiffened. “No, I did not mean- are you well? The village has a doctor and if he is not competent enough, then we can send for one from the next town over.”

“I am not ill.”

“But you do not look healthy. When was the last time you left the manor?”

The question should have made you angry. If you had been the same person you were before marrying Mr. Jeon, you might have issued a sharp retort about how your movements (or lack thereof) were none of his concern considering that he certainly told you nothing of his coming-and-going.

But the anger would not manifest. It was as though the part of you that pressed the trigger on your characteristically quick temper had gone completely numb.

“Two days ago,” you answered his question simply. “I took a walk about the gardens.”

“I have told you before that if you wish to go anywhere, the carriage is always at your disposal,” he continued. “You need only inform the butler and he will have it brought out for you.”

“I am aware.”

You saw a flicker in his eyes; it was a brief flash of something that you could not place. A mixture of realisation, despair or perhaps even frustration. Mr. Jeon had always been a closed book to you. Living with him for months had done nothing to make his silences or intense looks easier to comprehend.

There was nothing you understood about this man that you had not already known on your wedding day.

“I insist that you go down to the village with Mrs. Betsy tomorrow. The weather is supposed to be pleasant,” he said.

“Very well.”

Mr. Jeon stood there for a long moment, watching you in silence before he turned and left the room.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Mrs. Betsy was always in good humour. You were surprised that despite your long silences and reserved demeanour towards her, she never ceased her attempts to engage you in pleasant conversation. There were entire days when her voice was the only cheerful one you heard.

She rambled on eagerly about the seasons’ cabbage harvest as you walked around the market with her. Cabbages were not a topic that interested you; but then again, nothing seemed to pique your interest of late. You held Snowball’s leash loosely in your hand. The spoiled little pup refused to move past the butcher’s stall, so you paused to purchase a scrap of meat for him.

“Miss! Could I pet your dog?”

You turned and saw a young boy of barely eight or nine with a bright smile on his face eyeing Snowball. He was accompanied by an older woman who looked horrified.

“Fred!” the woman scolded him sharply before offering you a clumsy curtsey. “My sincere apologies, Mrs. Jeon, I am afraid Fred is a little outspoken. I will ensure he does not trouble you again-”

“Not at all,” you reassured her lightly. “It was polite of Fred to ask permission before approaching. You are welcome to pet Snowball, Fred. He is very friendly.”

You did not say what you wanted to say- which was that this young boy was the first villager who had treated you in a friendly manner. You could not blame them for their wariness. Your husband was the local nobleman and controlled their livelihoods, so it was natural that they feared offending you. Fred, however, was delighted to kneel down in front of Snowball and scratch him behind the ears.

“Are you his mother?” you asked the older woman who stood back and watched Fred anxiously.

She shook her head quickly. “No, Mrs. Jeon. My name is Sister Lynn. I work with the orphanage."

“I did not know there was an orphanage in the village.”

Mrs. Betsy spoke up brightly. "Indeed, there is. It is small but very well managed. Mr. Jeon's grandfather established it many decades ago. Even now, it survives almost entirely on donations from the Jeon family. There are about 11 children there currently and Sister Lynn runs it single-handedly."

Fred looked up at you with a toothy grin. "We have a dog at the orphanage as well! His name is Tucker. He would love to meet Snowball!"

Sister Lynn laughed nervously. "Fred…"

"I think it is an excellent idea for Snowball to meet Tucker," you replied simply. "Lead the way."

Sister Lynn seemed anxious as you followed Fred to the orphanage. She was certainly not prepared for an unexpected visit from the wife of the orphanage's primary benefactor. The orphanage was a quaint little house on the edge of the village and you felt a sudden warmth emanating from the place the moment you stepped through the opening in the fence.

"Everyone! Come meet Snowball!" Fred called out eagerly as soon as he entered the drawing room.

But Sister Lynn had had enough.

"No. First you will all stand in a line and introduce yourselves to Mrs. Jeon," she ordered all the children who came running up. The children hesitated and organised themselves clumsily into a line in front of you. The youngest boy was no older than four, and the eldest was a pretty young girl who looked just over fourteen.

They went in a line to state their names and ages- and for the first time in what felt like months you allowed yourself a small smile. Their clumsy curtseys and stammered introductions were the picture of innocence. For a few brief moments, the creeping dreary thoughts that had so thoroughly invaded your mind were kept fully at bay.

Once the introductions were complete, the younger children ran to surround Snowball. Your Pomeranian, delighted at the attention, lay down on the carpet and freely offered his belly to the children for pets and scratches.

"The children seem quite happy and well cared for," you remarked to Sister Lynn. Her eyes widened and she seemed almost relieved at your words of approval.

"They are a wonderful bunch, Mrs. Jeon," she replied warmly.

"What happens to them when they become of age?" you wondered.

"The boys usually leave for work- Mr. Jeon is usually kind enough to find something for them to do to earn their keep. The ones who are good at numbers are hired to help with accounting for the estate, and the Jeons have even helped others acquire jobs in London as clerks and bookkeepers."

You nodded. "And the girls?"

"Some of the girls get married- others go on to become seamstresses or take other simple jobs. I wish I could do more for them. Some of them are very clever and could probably go on to become governesses if they only knew a little French and had someone to teach them drawing and music."

You raised an eyebrow. "You cannot find them tutors?"

Sister Lynn flushed. "The best tutors are teaching young noblewomen such as yourself in London, Mrs. Jeon. Even if we had the money I could never persuade anyone to come out to the countryside to teach our young girls. But they do a very good job of teaching themselves with books."

You nodded. "That is admirable indeed. I should like to see what they learn."

"Marie is our brightest one," Sister Lynn told you before calling over the eldest girl. "Marie! Escort Mrs. Jeon into the study and show her your books and writing, my dear."

Marie came over and curtsied prettily for you before guiding you into the schoolroom. She was an intelligent, soft-spoken young girl and she showed you some of the poetry she had written.

"Your handwriting is excellent," you told her kindly. "As is your English. These are the books you use?"

Marie nodded at the shelf of textbooks. You pulled one down and frowned.

"This geography textbook is almost 15 years old. Are you still learning from this?" you asked her.

Marie blushed. "It's the only one we have, Mrs. Jeon," she admitted shyly. "Sister Lynn does her best to educate us, but there is only so much she knows, and there is no school nearby which will accept girls."

You nodded. "I see."

Marie guided you into the next room. "And here we have the playroom-"

You froze. The playroom was a fairly large room filled with toys and drawing boards and unfinished art. But the first thing that caught your eye was a large wooden piano in the corner of the room.

"You have a pianoforte?"

Marie nodded eagerly. She hurried over and pulled out the stool in front of the instrument. "It was donated to the orphanage by the Jeons' a few years ago when they redecorated their manor. They had no room for it- and there was nobody in the family who liked to play. I taught myself a song from an old piano book I found. May I show you?" she asked hopefully.

You nodded.

Marie blushed but sat down in front of the piano and played a simple tune. She was shaky- her fingers were not always in the right positions and it was evident that she had no formal training. But it was a pleasant song all the same.

"That was very well done," you told her. "You learned that yourself from a book?"

Marie nodded.

Mrs. Betsy, who was standing a little distance behind you, gave you a smile. "Do you play, Mrs. Jeon? I am sure a Viscount's sister would certainly have been taught to play at least in her youth."

You bit your lip. "I do play.'

Marie's eyes brightened. "Would you play something for us, Mrs. Jeon?"

Sister Lynn was about to scold her for making an inappropriate request of her benefactress but before she could get the words out, you had seated yourself in front of the instrument. The keys were old and worn but it was evidently still an excellent instrument.

It had been months since you had touched a piano but your fingers danced over the instrument as though you had practiced the tune just yesterday. It was pure muscle memory- some of the happiest times in your life had been spent in front of the piano, and for a moment you almost forgot where you were as you allowed your fingers to dance on the keys to their heart's content.

The children burst into applause.

You let your fingers fall from the piano and turned to see everyone watching you. Marie was staring in awe and Mrs. Betsy had a warm twinkle in her eye. You felt a sudden rish of adrenaline.

For the first time in months, you felt alive.

Sister Lynn rushed over to you. "Mrs. Jeon, that was the most beautiful performance I have-"

"I am afraid I must leave now, Sister Lynn," you informed the older woman briskly. "But there are some things I will require from you."

Sister Lynn nodded. "Of course, Mrs. Jeon."

"I should like a list of any textbooks in the schoolroom that are over two years old- I will have them all replaced myself, as soon as possible. And you will need to make room in the girls' schedules for extra lessons. I think French on Wednesdays, and music on Fridays would be suitable."

Sister Lynn looked bewildered. "Extra lessons? But who will teach them?"

"I will."

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Teaching the young girls at the orphanage was, at the least, a welcome distraction that kept the melancholy thoughts from consuming you for a few hours every week.

Mrs. Betsy was happy to ensure that the carriage was ready and waiting to take you into town every Wednesday and Friday. She could not accompany you herself, since her duties did not permit so much leisure- and perhaps it was for the best. Mrs. Betsy's presence was not unpleasant, but you were still uncomfortably aware that her loyalties lay with your husband.

Marie was your star pupil. You could tell that the young girl admired you greatly, and she was a very fast learner. Hardly two months into your lessons she was reciting French poetry with a near-perfect accent and was a better piano player than Miss Brooke could ever hope to be.

You returned from your lessons one Friday evening later that winter to find that Mr. Jeon was, to your surprise, sitting in the drawing room. He seemed tense.

"I thought we might have supper together," Mr. Jeon suggested to you lightly. The words were calm, but you saw something in his eyes that was familiar. Something that was often reflected in your own eyes.

It was a familiar kind of sadness.

"Of course," you replied. "I will dress and join your shortly."

You noticed the stiffness in Wonwoo's shoulders as he sat across from you in the dining room. You both ate in silence; not unusual for the few meals you shared. He looked up at you about halfway through the meal.

"I received a letter from my friend, Mr. Kim Mingyu," he informed you slowly. "The social season in London has come to an end, as you know, and Mingyu will be stopping by our estate tomorrow evening and spending a night here before resuming his journey through the countryside."

You nodded. "Alright."

"You have no objection?"

You blinked at him. "This is your home. Why should I have any objection to you hosting your friend in your own home?"

"Because-" Mr. Jeon began, but stopped himself. "Never mind. I only wanted to ensure that we would not be causing you any discomfort. You need not dine with us if you do not wish to."

You nodded. "I am sure as old friends, you would have much to discuss. I would not want to be in the way."

"That is… considerate of you."

"Of course."

Mr. Jeon took a deep breath and turned his attention back to his meal. You watched him silently for a few moments. He was ever the brick wall; as always, you had no idea what went on in your husband's mind or what he thought about.

But this silence… it could not go on forever.

"I have been visiting the orphanage," you told him slowly. "A few times a week."

Mr. Jeon nodded. He did not seem surprised. "I heard. Mrs. Betsy mentioned it to me. And my clerk informed me of the books you purchased for the schoolroom."

You flushed- suddenly realising that you had spent money without consulting Wonwoo. You had been so accustomed to the Viscount covering all your expenses that the thought had not occurred to you that Mr. Jeon was now responsible for your finances.

"I should have spoken to you-"

"Not at all, " Mr. Jeon cut you off. "If I had known that the schoolroom needed new books, I would have purchased them myself. And in any case- it is equally your money to choose to spend as you see fit."

You swallowed. "Right. Thank you."

He simply nodded. The rest of the meal passed in the usual silence, and you both went upstairs to your separate bedrooms.

—------------------------------------------------------------

You were acquainted with Kim Mingyu from past social seasons in London. You had danced with the man at a few balls, and remembered him as a very handsome, charming and easy-going gentleman who had a reputation for capturing and breaking the hearts of London's young ladies.

The Kim Mingyu that arrived at the Jeon estate on horseback the next evening looked nothing like the man you knew. He appeared, to put it simply, to be on the receiving end of heartbreak for the first time in his life.

"Mrs. Jeon," Mingyu greeted you with a stiff nod as he descended his horse. There was no smile on his face and he looked tired. "I apologise for intruding upon your hospitality at such short notice. I hope I am not disturbing you."

"Not at all, Mr. Kim," you greeted him politely. "You are most welcome."

"We will not disturb you. There are matters of business we wish to discuss, so we will be dining at the inn tonight," Mr. Jeon informed you as he laced up his riding gear. The stable boy brought out another horse for your husband.

You nodded. "I see. Very well."

The two gentlemen rode out without further ado. One of the maids standing near the foyer was pink in the face and clearly suppressing a giggle. You raised an eyebrow at her.

"And what is so amusing, Rosie?" you asked her lightly.

Rosie blushed. "Sorry, madam. I was only remembering the last time Mr. Kim was here at the estate. It was when he and the master were on break from their studies at Oxford. They drove out to have dinner at the inn a few towns over but the elder Mr. Jeon had a manservant follow them and discovered that they had gone… well, certainly not to the inn."

You blinked. "Sorry?" you asked, confused. "Where had they gone?"

Rosie blushed further. "Miss, I really can't say- please don't make me. Mrs. Betsy would have my backside if she found out I was telling you-"

"Is Mrs. Betsy your employer?"

Rosie hesitated. "No, madam. You are.'

"Then tell me."

She twisted her hands anxiously and then spat out "They had gone to see some… ladies of the night. Mr. Kim admitted that it was entirely his fault and the elder Mr. Jeon was furious, so he had Mr. Kim banned from the estate."

You felt nauseous.

"Ah. Yes, I see," you replied awkwardly.

Rosie's eyes widened. "I am sure that it is not where they have gone now!" she cried.

You gave her a sharp look. "Of course not," you told her firmly, though you felt absolutely none of the confidence that you displayed. Regardless of what your husband was or was not doing, you could not allow a servant to gossip about it. "Mr. Jeon is a married man."

Rosie nodded. "Of course! Of course, Mr. Jeon is a very honourable gentleman and I am sure that even on that night in question-"

"Thank you, Rosie. That will be all."

You quickly walked away from the maid, who looked horrified. You had not seriously considered that your husband might be using ladies of the night, as Rosie called them, to satisfy his carnal needs- after all, the two of you had not even consummated your marriage. You had even told him on your wedding night that he was welcome to seek his pleasures elsewhere.

You tried to push the thought from your mind as you had dinner and went to bed early. But sleep would not come.

You laid awake for what felt like hours, straining your ears in an attempt to hear the noise of your husband going to bed in the adjoining room. It was almost midnight when you finally heard the sound of Mr. Jeon’s door click- followed by complete silence. You tossed and turned restlessly before rising and putting on your dressing gown and going downstairs. Sleep would not find you tonight. You passed by the drawing room and were surprised to see that the fire was still lit and there was someone inside.

Mr. Kim Mingyu sat in front of the fire, staring into it deeply as though it held the secrets to eternal life.

“Mr. Kim?”

He jumped and turned to face you in a sluggish manner. Mr. Kim’s eyes were unfocused; and as you took a step further into the drawing room your olfactory senses were assaulted by the pungent smell of whisky. He relaxed when he saw you, and turned his face back towards the fire.

“Mrs. Jeon- I apologise if I woke you,” Mingyu mumbled.

You shook your head. “Not at all. Is everything all right, Mr. Kim? Is there a problem with your accommodations in the guest quarters? I can wake the household staff if you require something.”

Mr. Kim did not turn his eyes away from the fire. “No. I don’t need anything. I don’t deserve anything,” he said as his head fell back onto the armchair. “I am a monster.”

He was evidently very inebriated. You crossed the room and stood precariously behind a sofa to keep some distance between you both, but be in a better position to address the man to his face. He slumped back in the armchair with a groan and turned his unfocused eyes to look at you.

“A monster?” you asked lightly. “And what have you done that is so monstrous?”

Mingyu chuckled. “Greed, Mrs. Jeon. I was greedy. I saw something that was not mine to take but I simply could not resist. I took advantage of her innocence, I knowingly crossed the lines of friendship and played with her emotions -and now she believes herself to be in love with me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “She believes herself to be in love with you?”

Mingyu scoffed. “She doesn't know what she speaks of. She is too innocent to comprehend how valuable she is. She is too naive to understand love.”

“I pity her,” you replied simply. “It would be very painful indeed, to be in love with a man like you.”

Mingyu frowned. “What?”

“I don't blame you,” you continued. “It is how you gentlemen were raised. All your life, people have told you that you are more intelligent and logical and rational than women so you have grown to believe it. You presume to think that you are guilty of manipulating an adult woman into falling in love with you; as though she was stupider than you.”

Mingyu frowned. “I never said she was stupider than me. She is certainly much, much smarter.”

“Then if you had an iota of respect for this young lady, you would do her the courtesy of believing her when she says that she loves you.”

Mingyu said nothing. He turned away from you and stared back at the fire. He was silent for a long moment and then he took a deep breath.

"Those…" he said slowly, "may be the wisest words I have heard all day."

"I assume you had not consulted any women."

"You assume correctly," he replied. Mr. Kim turned to you with a small frown. "You are a clever woman, Mrs. Jeon. Far too clever to be wasting away in a remote countryside estate in a marriage you never wanted."

"And you are too clever to be running from a woman who loves you and finding meaningless comfort in the company of a prostitute."

Mingyu let out a hacking noise that was halfway between a laugh and a cough. "A prostitute? Strange words to call your husband," he remarked.

You flushed. "I was not referring to Mr. Jeon. I am perfectly well-informed of what dinner at the inn really means."

Mingyu let out a proper laugh. "Oh, Mrs. Jeon. I have overestimated your cleverness, then. I really hope you do not think that Wonwoo is enjoying his time at brothels. I will be extremely concerned by how little you know your husband."

You stiffened. "He is not an easy man to get to know."

"Certainly not. He will go to any lengths to avoid talking about his feelings and he builds not just walls but fortresses around his true emotions. But surely you knew that before you married Wonwoo?"

"Our marriage was not… you know the circumstances in which we married…" you mumbled.

Mingyu nodded. "I do. I also know that Wonwoo carries with him the burden of having ruined your life and stolen your happiness from you, perhaps forever. The man is drowning under the weight of his guilt."

You stared at him in disbelief. "I never once blamed him for-"

"You did not need to. Wonwoo may appear stoic, but he is a victim to his own conscience. In any case, I can assure you that he is not touring brothels while you sit here. He is aware of how miserable you are and it only serves to enhance his own misery."

You wrapped your dressing gown around yourself more tightly.

Could it be true? If anyone, anyone could give you answers about what Mr. Jeon hid behind that sharp, unreadable face then you would have expected it to be Kim Mingyu. But how could it be possible? Wonwoo had shown no signs of guilt. He had never once apologised for any of the circumstances leading up to your marriage.

In fact, your husband had gone out of his way to avoid you, to leave you alone in this empty haunting manor and let you wither away in loneliness.

But what had you done? You blamed him for being distant and difficult but what efforts had you truly made to understand the man you married? You had simply drowned in your own misery and conveniently accepted the walls he put up between the two of you as fixtures.

You were complicit in the ruin of this marriage.

"It is late," you said shakily. "I must-"

You were cut off by a noise- you turned around and saw Wonwoo enter the room. His eyes looked tired and he carried a candle in his right hand. A small frown appeared on his face.

"What are you both doing awake?" he asked doubtfully. "It is past midnight."

Mingyu stood up from his armchair unsteadily. "I was a little drunk and I sat down here for a while. I must have made some noise that woke you both up. Sorry; I'll be going to bed now."

He stumbled out of the drawing room. Mr. Jeon turned to you with a worried frown.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yes- of course. Snowball was growing restless in my room so came downstairs to let him out and stopped to speak to Mr. Kim when I saw him sitting here."

Mr. Jeon nodded. "All right. We should return to bed."

He turned to leave. The dim light of the fire lit up the profile of his handsome but tired and worn face. How had you not seen it before? Mr. Jeon carried a sadness within him too; one that had not been there before he married you, and which was growing darker and heavier day by day.

"Wonwoo," you whispered.

He froze. His face was turned away from you but you could see the way his broad shoulders tightened and his entire back stiffened underneath his white cotton nightshirt.

You had never called him by his name before.

After a long moment, he turned and looked at you. The remnants of surprise had still not faded from his eyes.

"Yes?" he asked gently.

"The… the children at the orphanage are putting on a performance for the village on Saturday evening. They have been practising hard all week. I thought, perhaps… it would be encouraging for them if you attended. If we attended."

Wonwoo stared at you. You saw the brief flash of emotion cross his face before he could control it and you knew that he understood your intentions. He understood that this was not a casual suggestion. This was not about the children, or the orphanage.

This was you taking the first step in your marriage.

"Of course," Wonwoo said finally. "That sounds wonderful."

You released the breath that you had been holding.

"I will let them know. They will be very excited, I am sure."

Wonwoo nodded. He opened his mouth for a moment, and then paused, almost as though he had reconsidered what he wanted to say. Then he gave you a small, careful smile.

"Good night," he said.

"Good night."

—----------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I'M SORRY THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO END IN PART 3 BUT BEFORE I REALISED IT I HAD WRITTEN 7K SO PLEASE DON'T KILL ME, I PROMISE I WILL END IT NEXT CHAPTER (I think)

#wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo angst #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #regency!au #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagine

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tarjapearce · 7 months

Text

Crimson Crown (Pt. 3)

Royal! AU Miguel O'Hara x Princess! Reader

Special thanks to @pinkiemme for this amazing fanart for this fic ❤️✨

WARNINGS: Angst, Sibling bonding, awkward talks, mild squeeze of jealousy if you squint, Bit of fluff, meaningful talks, slow burn, apologies, tension, arranged marriage.

Summary: In the admist of a feely chaos, a common ground is found.

Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 <3

Every bendable joint stretched, and some popped as you awoke, but in all honesty, functioning today wasn't something you wanted to do. Thoughts rooting heavier in your head upon remembering last night's events.

Your face sunk into the pillow, allowing its plush and warm embrace to cradle your face longer. Bloodshot eyes turned glossy and soon one tear fell. Another followed and so on, as if your body had finally released all the bad things that you had been bottling up.

You didn't cherish it, just finally dwelled on it, giving in to the sadness you had pushed away for so long that it came biting back at you before reaching for your diary and writing all your suffering away. Some tears certainly had stained the pages as you wrote.

Dainty hand scribbled angrily and pained but eventually stopped after a couple of pages. The servants announced their presence to bring your first meal of the day. A bit of gruel and fruit.

One of the servants stared at you for a second, but quickly returned to her duties, leaving you alone once more. Appetite wasn't something you wanted to indulge in too much, but certainly, you'd need the energy if you wanted to go out.

You ate in between stacking all the paintings back in the wooden box. The colorful landscape of your room was slowly returning to its dull color. The sheets and the hardened tainted tips of the paintbrushes were the only things that popped out.

The paintings were stacked into a corner as you made the space for another hobby, almost leaving the place as you had originally acquired it. Cold, empty, home of the darkness that loved to sit and watch you from the corners.

You'd miss your mother's comforting words after a terrible day, you missed Lucille. Sometimes you'd indeed wonder what would she be doing. Why Miguel forbade to bring her in was a mystery to you. The only thing certain is that you needed your friend. You needed a friend.

Of course, you missed the little cherry tart Lucille gave you every time she'd find you crying. The strolls through the castle she'd take you to whenever your parents discussed things so carelessly before you. But none of that mattered anymore.

A princess's duty was far more than just training oneself in the arts and being well-versed in many things. The ugly side of it, something you'd recently been acquainted with, had taught you the real meaning of being a royal. Sacrifice.

Even though your kingdom was now under the protection of Arachne, the price in return seemed a bit too high. Your happiness. But again as your mother had said

Our wishes matter little when men decide it's fun to play war.

Those words have stuck with you ever since. Marriage was something you didn't though too much, despite your father's attempts to marry you to a king of abroad lands. He even had considered offering your hand in marriage to Kraven if it meant to keep the peace. Of course, your mother had opposed greatly, but she was only saving you up as her last card under the sleeve and handed you over to the biggest player in the war-waging game, Miguel.

Miguel had won. Like usual. You were to marry him within two months and a week. It finally dawned on you—cold and bitter truth. You dreaded marrying him and just acting like a public figure for both kingdoms. He didn't need you, much to your maudlin reasoning, you knew he was more than capable of leading the kingdom on his own.

He doesn't need you

Your mind chanted. And for a moment you believed it. The way he acted, showing little glimpses of kindness to then completely ignoring you until he saw fitting not doing so, either by his counselor's advice or a little guilt.

Guiltiness

Of course not. The man had slayed without remorse anything that meddled with his kingdom. You were sure that if your realm would have much more resources, you'd be at war with him.

But this kind of war, an inner one, was something you were losing.

You had seen his little to no reaction to what his brother had called you. The word made you sick, but it made you sicker to know he let everything unfold.

So so cold.

Mere politics. A game in which you were a pawn. His pawn. It kind of made you wonder what kind of mistresses he had.

Had you met them without realizing it? Hopefully not, and you prayed for it to never happen. You wouldn't be able to stand it. A reason why you admired so much your mother.

On rare occasions, you had seen her cry because your father preferred a mistress' than her own company, but she always held her head high, face cold and proud. Never allowing the rest to see her waver.

Fresh tears were wiped off your face as the servants came once more. You bathed and prepared for the day. Peter came in once you were ready, frowning for a moment at your reddened face, his eyes noticed you had cleaned up the painting area, leaving it bare.

"Your Majesty" Peter greeted

You bowed at him.

"Could I have Lady Gwen and Lord Hobie to accompany me today?"

Peter tilted his head in confusion, "Beg your pardon?"

"I will go to the city, I need some supplies."

"You could ask and the king-"

"He's done enough. I don't wish to keep using his good faith when I can get them myself, ser Peter."

The words felt sharp as they came out of your mouth, but in truth, you didn't want to keep adding to his stress.

You sighed as your fist clenched for a moment on the skirt of your dress.

" And I need to clear my head. A trip to the city would be good."

"You've got to understand that I cannot leave your side, right?"

"If you get in trouble, I'll take full responsibility for it."

Peter's eyes softened and nodded.

"I'll call them."

-------

"Are you awake?" Gabriel spoke as he entered Miguel's chambers. The king received him with a grunt as he looked at some new reports Jessica had brought him.

"Of course you are. Did you even get some sleep?"

"No."

"Surprise, surprise." Gabriel shook his head and took one report. Miguel's gaze fixed on him, a little hidden smile creeping on his face.

"What are you doing?"

Gabriel's hand unfolded yet another report, "Helping you."

"I can do it myself."

"It's my kingdom too. Of course, I need to know what is happening around."

Miguel chuckled and let him. They remained quiet, going through the many reports. Some weren't as urgent as the others, surveillance of areas, economics, politics, and letters incoming from other kingdoms.

A couple of ones directed to you. Your parents mostly and one from a woman named Lucille. He put your cards away and let one of his agents, Margo, deliver them to you. He didn't trust regular servants to deliver such personal things, too much of a risky move.

"What are the plans for today besides pouring yourself to work?"

Miguel sighed and went through the last report before looking at Gabriel.

"I need to test some things before making advance in something else."

Gabriel rested against his chair and put his feet on the table, which Miguel quickly removed.

"Thought you'd like to apologize to your future bride."

"She doesn't want to be disturbed, and you're the one at fault. Not me."

Gabriel's eyes widened softly and he nodded.

"Still, I might send her a letter."

"No. You're to ask an audience with her and apologize. Make it right."

"What about you?"

Miguel waved him off, a sign to which Gabriel understood as 'I'll find a way later'.

"You know... heard the servants talking"

"I don't have time for gossip, Gabriel."

The younger O'Hara snorted and gestured towards him.

"They say they have seen your little princess crying. A lot, ever since she came here actually."

Miguel tensed for a moment and put the papers down.

"I know it's been forever since you've courted someone. But-"

"Courting doesn't lead a country"

Gabriel shrugged and stood. "In any case, I will apologize once she returns from her trip."

His words snapped Miguel's attention back at him.

"What trip?"

Gabriel smirked at his demanding tone, "She's in the city, looking for things."

Miguel pinched his nose bridge.

"She could've asked..."

"Peter sent her off-"

"What do you mean Peter is here?! He is supposed to be her guardian!"

Miguel secured the sword to his hip and darted out of his room. Gabriel seemed pleased as he followed him. He thrived in seeing his brother antsy and panicky over silly things.

A present reminder that he was still human, and not a belicista monster at heart like everyone made him to be.

Peter's eyes darted away from him upon his arrival.

"Why aren't you with the Princess?"

"She asked me not to come with her. Asked for Gwen and Hobie instead"

Miguel's icy glare remained on a scowling Peter.

"Why?"

"Ask her yourself."

Gabriel's excitement died upon sensing the tension between the both.

"Ser Peter, my apologies for interrupting your duty. But, do you know by chance where she has gone to?"

"She needed some space."

Away from you both.

Peter's mind wanted to say but it would surely gain his title removed. His mouth kept in a straight line as Miguel kept on glaring at him.

"She wanted to get some things for herself."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Peter sighed and shook his head.

"Because she said you'd done enough. And she doesn't want to be disturbed."

Gabriel cringed, his eyes darting back and forth between Miguel and Peter. He didn't mean to offend you, but something worse was happening. And it was his fault, yet Miguel was already seizing that burden as his own.

" Will you let us know when she arrives? I understand her wish to be left alone, but the distress I put her through yesterday needs to be addressed as soon as possible."

Peter just nodded as Miguel entered your chambers. His frown immediately deepens upon seeing the current state of your room. Just like he had given it to you. Bland, dull, and with no colors, just like your ongoing emotions.

The paints were carefully stacked in a corner, his gift stored back where he had sent it. The faint scent of your perfume, the only indicator you had been here, was subtly overpowered by the smell of dried oil paintings.

Your desk was neatly organized, but a couple of crumpled sheets ruined the pristine image. He took one and unfolded it bit by bit. A single word scribbled and scratched with such violence it tore the page.

Concubine.

He rubbed his face and crumpled the sheet once more. Angry steps guide him away from your room. Gabriel was out of his sight.

Good.

----

The trip had surely made your brain ease the anguish and bad thoughts your mind was spiraling into.

One thing you certainly liked about Arachne, was the many imported products you could find. That would mean, finding the golden Thelerian thread you used for your embroidering back at home.

Crimson, golden, green, indigo blue, and black along some hoops and needles. You also got some other materials. Hobie and Gwen followed you but kept their distance when sensing the gloominess taking over you. They just followed wherever you went. They gave you your space.

You'd stop at the baker's for his tarts, obviously. You got half a dozen of them. Along with some more books about Arachne.

There were a couple of interesting things that caught your attention. The machinery used was something you'd never seen before; and surely the affluence of foreign people.

If you paid close attention, you could distinguish the people from their origin country. Erunians’ upper class always dressed in fine linens with subtle armoring pieces, a couple of them paraded through the market.

You could spot some fellow Thelerians in the art and fabric shops. They'd be probably looking for supplies, as well for a new upcoming activity in the arts academy. A wistful and longing glance was thrown their way before your eyes met a flamboyant man, dressed in the silkiest fur coat you had seen so far.

An Onerimian. You saw other people, probably people from even further kingdoms of Enethor.

It made sense for Miguel to go to such extent as to marry himself in exchange for his country thriving. He was a king after all. No monarch would want their land suffering unless it was a terrible one. Which you had heard stories about.

Once your shopping ended, you got back into the carriage and returned to the palace.

-----

The news of your arrival fell upon both Miguel’s and Gabriel's ears. The latter got himself ready to talk to you.

"See you later, Miggy"

Miguel just grunted in response as he watched you from his window and rubbed his face on your melancholic expression.

The servants always talked, but seeing your face with saddened and dull eyes, made the headache grow gradually.

The council held less power than him, but even so, their influence was something he couldn't deny. An extension of his power. They helped him as well with so many other things, or else he'd never had a break.

Being a ruler wasn't easy, being the head of a whole nation was worse. For once, the questioning of his worth came into mind after so many years.

He had even sacrificed his health to keep the kingdom striving and together for the past seventeen years on his own. And in all that time a marriage never crossed his mind. Until now.

----

"Princess!"

Gabriel bowed with a serious face, and your discomfit grew, but you still pushed that aside and bowed back.

"My lord."

Gabriel sighed and clasped his hands before you.

"Could you spare me some minutes of your time for a hearing, your highness?"

Your heart thumped with violence inside your chest but you nodded

"Certainly, sir."

"Good. I... Thank you. I know you wanted to be left alone for the day, but I must apologize to you for my actions yesterday. It was completely out of line."

Gabriel sighed and looked at you, honest words and eyes fixed on your defeated form.

"I didn't know my brother had gotten engaged. I was out on duty and found out when I got to the castle. It has never been my intention to insult you, your highness."

"Your honesty is quite admirable, ser. Thanks for that"

"Do you accept my apologies?"

"Yes. Now if you'd excuse me, I must go"

Gabriel bowed and left you be.

The servants took your things inside your room as you bowed to everyone that greeted you.

Dinner time approached and the food was brought to your room.

Your mind gravitated towards Miguel. Thankful that he had respected your wishes to be left alone for the day.

What about tomorrow and the day after that?

Your hands faltered and a heavy sigh escaped your lips.

As long as you were kept busy, the rest didn't matter, right? He seemed way too contemptuous of being away and meddling with his affairs.

Probably with a mistress

Your breath hitched as you rubbed your face in disgust at your thoughts. What he did in his spare time was none of your business. Yet it was unavoidable to feel your chest constricting at your hurting thoughts.

Enough

Your mind rumbled as you focused on the new task before you. The embroidery was one of your favorites, it was calming and required your full attention. It helped you back at home.

-----

The next day went like nothing had happened. You were still in your room, embroidering. You were so engrossed in your task that got startled when a woman in her elite uniform cleared her throat, finally making her presence known to you.

"My apologies for startling you, your highness. I am Margo. One of the king's agents."

She bowed and you followed

"He sends this to you."

Margo delivered a little paper with a note scribbled on it. Penmanship sloppy and hurried but legible enough.

Meet me at the main hall within an hour.

You frowned upon reading the note and sighed.

"I'll be there. Thanks for your service, Lady Margo."

"Please, just Margo. I'll let him know of your reply right away."

She left, and you groaned inwardly.

Nervous steps guided you through the main halls of the castle. Finally, they stopped a few meters away from what you thought was his office. He was talking to Jessica and then excused himself as soon as he saw you.

Oh dear.

-----

He was before you within a couple of strides, long legs reached your presence, and his forever stoic yet deep eyes settled on you. Breathing felt heavy and stuffy.

"Princesa" his voice held a bit of a gruff. He cleared his throat and pointed the way ahead.

"Walk with me."

It wasn't a suggestion or an order. And still, you followed. His hands clenched and relaxed as He walked with you, matching your pace.

"Is there a specific reason why you have requested my company tonight, My lord?"

He chuckled, glad that you were addressing things without sugarcoating them.

"I want to apologize."

"Whatever for? Prince Gabriel has already apologized. We have... reached a truce regarding that situation."

Miguel glanced at you with curious and soft eyes as you both kept walking through the castle.

"I know you are aware of what our marriage implies, Princesa."

"Of course. Even though my family was the one to orchestrate such union, I’m a firm believer that our kingdoms could mutually benefit from it."

"My thoughts exactly. What are your prospects for Theleria? "

"We might not be the realm we used to be centuries ago, but I believe we have been turning into something better. I don't favor war, and many might see it as a weakness, but as long as there are more options, I won't be afraid to explore them."

"What if war is the only way?"

"Is it truly, though? I know there are times when war is the only way out. And as much as it pains me, it must be seen through. To me, war is the last resource."

"On that, we agree."

Miguel nodded as you stared at him with a curious gaze.

"Contrary to what everyone outside my kingdom's walls believes, I don't engage in war because they're fun. Wars are the result of several failed attempts at dialogue. My last resource."

You smiled softly at his words and he smiled back.

"I must apologize to you, then. My initial judgment has been proven wrong. And I'm glad it did."

"How so?" Miguel inquired as you both walked wherever your feet took you. The soft and sweet scent of the gardens tickled your nose.

"This arranged marriage was quite sudden for both. I know much. You weren't looking for such a thing, neither did I. Yet-"

"Here we are."

Miguel slicked his hair back as Peter's words finally started to sink in.

"I know a kingdom is the most important thing for a good ruler. It is important to you as it is important to me."

You spoke as you faced him.

"My parents might have arranged this, but... It doesn't mean we can't influence the path it takes. As your future... ally"

Your words hesitated, "I want to be seen as more than just a public figure, but someone you can rely on if the chance presents itself."

Miguel's heart thumped with strength at your words. His gaze remained on you a little longer than it should.

" What do you aspire to accomplish in Arachne, Princesa?"

" The same thing I'd want for my future kingdom, My lord. For it to keep striving, improving, and marching towards a better future, where its citizens know they can have the same opportunities they'd get in abroad lands. For them to know that we have their back. Like it should be."

Miguel's hands tingled upon your words. The urge to reach for you and hug you at finally finding someone who understood his reasoning was a bit overwhelming, in a good kind of way. His heart seemed to be pumping in excitement.

"Seems we share a vision."

"Indeed. Our kingdoms' well-being is the thing that brought us here. Would be foolish to think differently."

"I apologize if... I've underestimated your reasoning, Princesa."

You shook your head with a lax smile.

"It's alright, sir. It's only natural to be guarded towards stranger's opinions."

"You're certainly no stranger"

Your brows rose in surprise "Oh?"

Miguel blinked at his own words

"I mean..."

He rubbed his neck softly

"I think allies would be too soon since I've got yet, to prove my worth to you and your scary council. Acquaintances, it's the right term."

You spoke with a soft smile. The kind of smile one would wear when facing an awkward truth.

"Acquaintances, then."

He didn't like that word, as true as it was. It didn't sit right in his head and it had left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I must know though, Princesa. Why would you order Peter to stay behind?"

"Well, poor man needed a break. He's always looking after me."

His jaw clenched softly at the compassionate words for Peter.

"You must understand he can't leave your side, right?"

"I take full responsibility for that, my lord. I know I shouldn't ignore your authority. I'm sorry for that."

The servants ran around the castle, some looked your way with keen eyes, whispering among them as they saw you and Miguel.

"In any case, thanks for listening, my lord. I hope your doubts have been cleared a bit with our conversation. Your company is always enjoyable"

"Certainly."

His mind slapped himself inwardly as you chuckled.

"Then I bid you a goodnight, ser."

You bowed to him and made your way back to your room. He went back to his office.

His mind ran a mile per second with all sort of thoughts.

"Certainly" He groaned in annoyance. He also wanted to say your company was good, but instead, he came out as a self-centered man.

"What's wrong?"

Peter entered his chambers in casual dressings and Miguel glared at him upon remembering the other bits of the conversation.

"You don't need a fucking break. I do."

Peter's brows knitted together in confusion at his sudden words. Your genuine concern for Peter didn't sit right either.

"Then, spend more time doing what you like. Or more time with the princess."

"She said we're acquaintances."

"Which is not far from the truth. Why are you upset?"

"Because you were right. And I hate it when you do."

Peter's smile grew wider "Told you."

"Cállate."

Peter chuckled and sat before him.

"What did you talk about?"

"She told me that she wanted to be a reliable ally. She... understands my vision."

Peter's eyes widened softly as his smile turned into a smirk.

"Seems you did right in approaching"

"Told you to keep your allies closer."

Your sincere words regarding your concerns about the kingdom had his attention fully enraptured into you. The attention that he only put into little selected things. A sort of attention he'd gladly address you again with, just to hear you talk so fervently about your common goals.

"Si si, ya. Vete." (Yeah, yeah. Leave)

"Sleep. Tomorrow's a long day."

He just nodded and watched Peter leave.

Acquaintances were better than strangers. It was a progress, a baby step, but a step closer nonetheless.

-----

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