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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months

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How the NYPD defeated bodycams

Anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. When American patience for racial profiling in traffic stops reached a breaking point, cops rolled out dashcams. Dashcam footage went AWOL, or just recorded lots of racist, pretextual stops. Racial profiling continued.

Tasers and pepper spray were supposed to curb the undue use of force by giving cops an alternative to shooting dangerous-seeming people. Instead, we got cops who tasered and sprayed unarmed people and then shot them to pieces.

Next came bodycams: by indelibly recording cops' interactions with the public, body-worn cameras were pitched as a way to bring accountability to American law-enforcement. Finally, police leadership would be able to sort officers' claims from eyewitness accounts and figure out who was lying. Bad cops could be disciplined. Repeat offenders could be fired.

Police boosters insist that police violence and corruption are the result of "a few bad apples." As the saying goes, "a few bad apples spoil the bushel." If you think there are just a few bad cops on the force, then you should want to get rid of them before they wreck the whole institution. Bodycams could empirically identify the bad apples, right?

Well, hypothetically. But what if police leadership don't want to get rid of the bad apples? What if the reason that dashcams, tasers, and pepper spray failed is that police leadership are fine with them? If that were the case, then bodycams would turn into just another expensive prop for an off-Broadway accountability theater.

What if?

In "How Police Have Undermined the Promise of Body Cameras," Propublica's Eric Umansky and Umar Farooq deliver a characteristically thorough, deep, and fascinating account of the failure of NYPD bodycams to create the accountability that New York's political and police leadership promised:

https://www.propublica.org/article/how-police-undermined-promise-body-cameras

Topline: NYPD's bodycam rollout was sabotaged by police leadership and top NYC politicians. Rather than turning over bodycam footage to oversight boards following violent incidents, the NYPD suppresses it. When overseers are allowed to see the footage, they get fragmentary access. When those fragments reveal misconduct, they are forbidden to speak of it. When the revealed misconduct is separate from the main incident, it can't be used to discipline officers. When footage is made available to the public, it is selectively edited to omit evidence of misconduct.

NYPD policy contains loopholes that allow them to withhold footage. Where those loopholes don't apply, the NYPD routinely suppresses footage anyway, violating its own policies. When the NYPD violates its policies, it faces no consequences. When overseers complain, they are fired.

Bodycams could be a source of accountability for cops, but for that to be true, control over bodycams would have to vest with institutions that want to improve policing. If control over bodycams is given to institutions that want to shield cops from accountability, that's exactly what will happen. There is nothing about bodycams that makes them more resistant to capture than dashcams, tasers or pepper spray.

This is a problem across multiple police departments. Minneapolis, for example, has policies from before and after the George Floyd uprisings that require bodycam disclosure, and those policies are routinely flouted. Derek Chauvin, George Floyd's murderer, was a repeat offender and had been caught on bodycam kneeling on other Black peoples' necks. Chauvin once clubbed a 14 year old child into unconsciousness and then knelt on his neck for 15 minutes as his mother begged for her child's life. Chauvin faced no discipline for this and the footage was suppressed.

In Montgomery, Alabama, it took five years of hard wrangling to get access to bodycam footage after an officer sicced his attack dog on an unarmed Black man without warning. The dog severed the man's femoral artery and he died. Montgomery PD suppressed the footage, citing the risk of officers facing "embarrassment."

In Memphis, the notoriously racist police department was able to suppress bodycam disclosures until the murder of Tyre Nichols. The behavior of the officers who beat Nichols to death are a testament to their belief in their own impunity. Some officers illegally switched off their cameras; others participated in the beating in full view of the cameras, fearing no consequences.

In South Carolina, the police murder of Walter Scott was captured on a bystander's phone camera. That footage made it clear that Scott's uniformed killers lied, prompting then-governor Nikki Haley to sign a law giving the public access to bodycam footage. But the law contained a glaring loophole: it made bodycam footage "not a public record subject to disclosure." Nothing changed.

Bodycam footage does often reveal that killer cops lie about their actions. When a Cincinnati cop killed a Black man during a 2015 traffic-stop, his bodycam footage revealed that the officer lied about his victim "lunging at him" before he shot. Last summer, a Philadelphia cop was caught lying about the circumstances that led to him murdering a member of the public. Again, the officer claimed the man had "lunged at him." The cop's camera showed the man sitting peacefully in his own car.

Police departments across the country struggle with violent, lying officers, but few can rival the NYPD for corruption, violence, scale and impunity. The NYPD has its own "goon squad," the Strategic Response Group, whose leaked manual reveals how the secret unit spends about $100m/year training and deploying ultraviolent, illegal tactics:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/07/cruelty-by-design/#blam-blam-blam

The NYPD's disciplinary records – published despite a panicked scramble to suppress them – reveal the NYPD's infestation with criminal cops who repeatedly break the law in meting out violence against the public:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/27/ip/#nypd-who

These cops are the proverbial bad apples, and they do indeed spoil the barrel. A 2019 empirical analysis of police disciplinary records show that corruption is contagious: when crooked cops are paired with partners who have clean disciplinary records, those partners become crooked, too, and the effect lasts even after the partnership ends:

https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/2378023119879798

Despite the risk of harboring criminals in police ranks, the NYPD goes to extreme lengths to keep its worst officers on the street. New York City's police "union"'s deal with the city requires NYC to divert millions to a (once) secret slushfund used to pay high-priced lawyers to defend cops whose conduct is so egregious that the city's own attorneys refuse to defend them:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/03/26/overfitness-factor/#heads-you-lose-tails-they-win

This is a good place for your periodic reminder that police unions are not unions:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/28/afterland/#selective-solidarity

Indeed, despite rhetoric to the contrary, policing is a relatively safe occupation, with death rates well below the risks to roofers, loggers, or pizza delivery drivers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/27/extraordinary-popular-delusions/#onshore-havana-syndrome

The biggest risk to police officers – the single factor that significantly increased death rates among cops – is police unions themselves. Police unions successfully pressured cities across American to reject covid risk mitigation, from masking to vaccinations, leading to a wave of police deaths. "Suicide by cop" is very rare, but US officers committed "mass suicide by cop union":

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/10/12/us/police-covid-vaccines.html

But the story that policing is much more dangerous than it really is a useful one. It has a business-model. Military contractors who turn local Barney Fifes into Judge Dredd cosplayers with assault rifles, tanks and other "excess" military gear make billions from the tale:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/10/flintstone-delano-roosevelt/#1033-1022

It's not just beltway bandits who love this story. For cops to be shielded from consequences for murdering the public, they need to tell themselves and the rest of us that they are a "thin blue line," and not mere armed bureaucrats. The myth that cops are in constant danger from the public justifies hair-trigger killings.

Consider the use of "civilian" to describe the public. Police are civilians. The only kind of police officer who isn't a civilian is a military policeman. Places where "civilians" interact with non-civilian law enforcement are, by definition, under military occupation. Calling the public "civilians" is a cheap rhetorical trick that converts a police officer to a patrolling soldier in hostile territory. Calling us "civilians" justifies killing us, because if we're civilians, then they are soldiers and we are at war.

The NYPD clearly conceives of itself as an occupying force and considers its "civilian" oversight to be the enemy. When New York's Civilian Complaint Review Board gained independence in 1993, thousands of off-duty cops joined Rudy Giuliani in a mass protest at City Hall and an occupation of the Brooklyn Bridge. This mass freakout is a measure of police intolerance for oversight – after all, the CCRB isn't even allowed to discipline officers, only make (routinely ignored) recommendations.

Kerry Sweet was the NYPD lawyer who oversaw the department's bodycam rollout. He once joked that the NYPD missed a chance to "bomb the room" where the NYPD's CCRB was meeting (when Propublica asked him to confirm this, he said he couldn't remember those remarks, but "on reflection, it should have been an airstrike").

Obvious defects in the NYPD's bodycam policy go beyond the ability to suppress disclosure of the footage. The department has no official tracking system for its bodycam files. They aren't geotagged, only marked by officer badge-number and name. So if a member of the public comes forward to complain that an unknown officer committed a crime at a specific place and time, there's no way to retrieve that footage. Even where footage can be found, the NYPD often hides the ball: in 20% of cases where the Department told the CCRB footage didn't exist, they were lying.

Figuring out how to make bodycam footage work better is complex, but there are some obvious first steps. Other cities have no problem geotagging their footage. In Chicago, the CCRB can directly access the servers where bodycam footage is stored (when the NYPD CCRB members proposed this, they were fired).

Meanwhile, the NYPD keeps protecting its killers. The Propublica story opens with the police killing of Miguel Richards. Richards' parents hadn't heard from him in a while, so they asked his Bronx landlord to check on him (the Richards live in Jamaica). The landlord called the cops. The cops killed Richards.

The cops claimed he had a gun and they were acting in self-defense. They released a highly edited reel of bodycam footage to support that claim. When the full video was eventually extracted, it revealed that Richards had a tiny plastic toy guy and a small folding knife. The officers involved believed he was suffering an acute mental health incident and stated that policy demanded that they close his bedroom door and wait for specialists. Instead, they barked orders at him and then fired 16 rounds at him. Seven hit him. One ruptured his aorta. As he lay dying on his bedroom floor, one officer roughly tossed him around and cuffed him. He died.

New York's Police Benevolent Association – the largest police "union" in NYC – awarded the officers involved its "Finest of the Finest" prize for their conduct in the killing.

This isn't an isolated incident. A month after the NYPD decided not to punish the cops who killed Richards, NYPD officers murdered Kawaski Trawick in his Bronx apartment:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#Kawaski-Trawick

The officers lied about it, suppressed release of the bodycam footage that would reveal their lies, and then escaped any justice when the footage and the lies were revealed.

None of this means that bodycams are useless. It just means that bodycams will only help bring accountability to police forces when they are directed by parties who have the will and power to make the police accountable.

When police leaders and city governments support police corruption, adding bodycams won't change that fact.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/13/i-want-a-roof-over-my-head/#and-bread-on-the-table

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Tony Webster, modified https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Minneapolis_Police_Officer_Body_Camera_%2848968390892%29.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #impunity #ccrb #nypd #abolish the police #acab #police #corruption #bodycams #body-worn cameras #propublica

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inkskinned · 3 months

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there's a video on instagram of a man kicking his partner's door in. the top comment is (with over 4 thousand likes): "how about you tell us what you did to make him that angry?"

barring emergency, nobody should be kicking anybody's door in. many of us lived in houses where it was always, somehow, an emergency. there is a strange, almost hysterical calm that comes over you in that moment - everything feels muted, and you almost feel, however incongruently, like you should be laughing. you are living inside of "the emergency." oh my god, you think. i am now a fucking statistic.

there is another comment with 2.8 thousand likes: "if this was a woman doing it to a man, nobody would give a shit."

do people give a shit now, though?

barring emergency, the door should remain standing. the emergency should be panicked, desperate - "i'm coming in there to protect you." many of us know what it feels like when the emergency is instead "i'm coming in there to get you."

1.5k likes: "and yet you post this for notes. glad to see being the victim has become your whole personality."

hysteria is a word connected to womb, from greek. what you're experiencing is so senseless and inhumane that you (a rational creature) try to find any ground within what is irrational and cannot be explained. one of the most frustrating things about staying in bad situations is that we also lie to ourselves. we also ask ourselves - wow. what did i do?

women can be, and often are, also abusers. abuse is not gendered. abuse is not just a "straight person" problem. abuse does not have a face or figure or sexuality. you cannot pick an abuser out of a crowd. an abuser could be actually anybody.

and then so many people rally behind the man kicking the door in. here is something nobody should be doing, right? you want to ask every person that liked that first comment: do you ask this because you side with him? do you ask this because it helps you feel safe from this ever happening?

in some ways, you're weirdly sympathetic to the top comment, because it is the same logic you see frequently. the idea is that the average, normal, sane person doesn't just break down a door. doesn't just shoot up a school. doesn't stalk and kill women. doesn't threaten sexual assault. doesn't run over protesters. doesn't shoot an unarmed black person. doesn't scream at underpaid walmart employees. doesn't just "lose it". something had to have happened, right? because the default (white. straight. cis.) - that is someone who is always, you know. "sane."

(right?)

on a podcast, you hear a sane, normal, rational person. "if you piss me off, i'm going to need to hit something. sorry but i'm not apologizing. that's just who i am that's how it is." his voice almost sounds like he's laughing.

you think of the door, and how you were almost laughing behind it, too. ironically, every real emergency in your life has almost felt peaceful in comparison. fire, car accident, flash flooding - these felt quiet, covenant to you. you'd stood in all of them, feeling them pass over and up to your chin, never actually overwhelming.

but when the door was coming down, you had felt - is there a word for that? there has to be, a word, right.

surely one of us has figured out the word for that, i mean. it's such a large fucking statistic.

#spilled ink #writeblr #warm up #this is so disorganized #i just saw that video and the comments made me want to vomit #it's actually like. in the way it's funny that you got into a car crash and got the flu within the same 24 hours #it's like.#it's funny #because certain people will blame everything on mental illness #even being transgender.#they will not #however #at any point - even vaguely suggest that a man should maybe get therapy.#like. a guy busting down a door isn't a danger-to-himself-and-others #(you just pushed him too far).#but a young adult looking for top surgery should be institutionalized for even wanting to change their body.

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starsinmylatte · 2 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧

Yet another wonderful request as part of my JJK Fic Readers Supporting Noury event!

This fic is a gift for @starlitnotes (who Tumblr is apparently against me tagging, so I will DM her 😅) Thank you so much to everyone who has supported my event and my writing so far 💜

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Afab!reader x Hiromi Higuruma Rating: Explicit (18+ minors DNI) Word Count: 9k Request: Yakuza bosses Nanami and Higuruma

Click here to join my taglist!

Warnings are found below the cut!

Warnings (besides what it says on the request): Use of pet names (darling, baby, etc), threesome, oral sex, cum swallowing, praise kink, breeding kink, masturbation, Double penetration (vaginal), cervix fucking, etc.

“Excuse me, Miss?” An unfamiliar voice rang out from behind you as you scoured hardened syrup from the wooden surface of your coffee bar.

You whirled around, tossing your rag aside and snatching a spatula off the other counter. The cafe had been empty five minutes ago, and you knew that you’d already locked all the doors. No matter how polite your intruder was, he shouldn’t have been able to get in.

“Don’t come any closer,” you warned, clutching the spatula like a lifeline and pointing it toward the voice. Even though it was just a small silicone and wood tool, you felt safer with it in your hands.

A tall young man in a well-cut black suit seemed to melt out of the shadows that lined the back exit hallway. He calmly walked closer as you brandished your “weapon” at him, running a hand through his unruly brown hair and smiling sheepishly.

“I swear I’m a friend; I’m not here to hurt you.” The mystery guest raised his hands placatingly, showing you that he was unarmed. “My name is Takuma Ino, and unless you want to be arrested for conspiring with the yakuza…. please come with me.”

There was a loud, booming knock at your front door as if on cue, and another unfamiliar male voice yelled. “This is Detective Zen’in with the Tokyo Police Department! I’m here about an urgent matter. Please open the door so we can speak.”

Ino bristled at the sound of the detective’s voice. He immediately grabbed your upper arm and attempted to tug you towards the back door, but the sudden action spooked you. Your reflexes completely took over, and you slammed the wooden handle of the spatula against his fingers with a resounding crack. The young man barely suppressed a yelp of surprise, snatching his hand back and hissing in pain.

“Owwww,” he groaned quietly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but we have to go now.”

The detective knocked at your front door again, and you flinched, feeling very much like cornered prey. Ino nervously rubbed his fingers, trying to soothe the sting as he glanced at the front door. “Please, Miss….. Look, you can bring that thing and hit me again if I make you feel uncomfortable in any way, but please just come with me.”

The knocking grew more insistent, and the detective yelled again, “Ma’am, we know you’re in there. If you do not comply, we will forcefully open this door.”

Ino looked at you frantically as he mouthed another silent plea and gestured toward the exit. A potent, white-hot mixture of fear and adrenaline shot through you as you realized that you had no time left; you had to decide now. You could only hope you wouldn’t regret your choice as you nodded at Ino, grabbed your purse, and followed him out the back door into the night.

As soon as the two of you reached the back alley, Ino motioned for you to stay put. He glanced around, scanning the other small, connecting road. Due to the lack of foot traffic behind the stores, there were only a few street lights in the alley, and you could barely see anything beyond your feet. Ino seemed frustrated, muttering under his breath until suddenly, lights flicked on inside a sleek, expensive-looking black car near the road. Your savoir sighed in relief as he ushered you towards the vehicle, throwing the door open and nearly tossing you in.

It all happened so fast that you barely had time to think before Ino slammed your door closed and vaulted into the passenger’s seat. The driver instantly shut off all the interior lights and revved the engine, leaving you scrambling to buckle your seatbelt in the dark. Your fingers scraped over supple, well-conditioned leather as the car shot forward, hurtling through the back roads and away from the cafe. Ino and the driver carried on a hushed conversation across the front seat as you tried to process everything that had just happened, but there was one primary concern on your mind.

“Ino-san….” you spoke carefully into the dark, “Why do the police think that a Cafe owner is involved with the Yakuza?”

“It’ll make more sense when you meet the Oyabun… er, well, both of them. They can explain everything,” Ino offered, exchanging a look with the driver. You felt so frustrated; they had left you literally and metaphorically in the dark. All you could do was sit there in the quiet luxury of your surroundings, more questions and concerns brewing in your mind as the car sped off into the night.

You passed the time by staring out the window, trying to retain some bearing of your surroundings, but the car was traveling too quickly for you to read the names of any streets or buildings. Soon, the blurry grey cityscape disappeared altogether. Lush trees began to fill your vision as moonlight poured into the car. The treeline grew thicker and thicker, seemingly stretching on forever as the road began to incline steadily. You realized the two men were taking you deeper into the mountains outside Tokyo, and an icy chill shot through you.

“Oh, god…. They’re going to kill me out here, and no one will ever find my body.”

The driver must have sensed your quiet fear, and he sighed deeply. “Ino-kun, please tell me that you explained at least some of the situation to her.”

“I figured that the Oyabun would want to tell her most of it,” Ino grumbled, still nursing his hand, “We didn’t have a lot of time with that weasel of a detective outside her door, so I just told her to come with me if she didn’t want to be arrested, and that she could hit me with that spatula again if I scared her.”

The exhausted-looking driver removed one hand from the steering wheel and slapped it against his forehead, wincing and rubbing his eyes over the rim of his glasses.

“What!?!” Ino protested, throwing his arms out dramatically. “It seemed reasonable enough to me. That thing hurts, and besides-! She’s safe, and that’s what matters!”

In any other situation, you probably would’ve found the scene hilarious. The other man gave a long-suffering sigh, pointedly ignoring Ino as the young man continued to try and explain his reasoning, complete with a dramatic re-enactment of you smacking him. The driver slowed the vehicle in the middle of the road and pulled off to the side without another word. Your hand crept towards the door handle, just in case.

“Please…. don’t.” The driver clicked on the cabin light and turned around, looking at you tiredly as your fingertips brushed the only barrier that stood between your freedom, “I give you my word that it would be a mistake to leave now; please let me explain more thoroughly.”

You gazed back at him warily, moving your hand away from the handle just enough to signal that you’d hear him out. The driver had a kind but somewhat pinched and anxious face; for a yakuza driver, he seemed strangely considerate.

“My name is Kiyotaka Ijichi, and this is Takuma Ino. We both work for the Kintatsu-ikka, and our Oyabun-”

“Our boss!” Ino supplied helpfully, turning to give you a lopsided grin.

“We received a tip that you were wrongfully associated with two different Yakuza groups and placed in danger. That detective who arrived at your Cafe is not a good man; if he had reached you first, you’d likely be jailed over false charges. The Oyabun of our family sent us to pick you up and bring you somewhere safe.” Ijichi explained calmly, adjusting his glasses.

“That still doesn’t answer why they think I know you people.” You snapped back, a little more forcefully than intended. Hot, angry tears welled up, threatening to spill over at any moment as you huffed. “I’m innocent. I don’t associate with criminals.”

“Don’t panic,” Ijichi reassured you gently. “I may not have the answers, but I’m taking you to people who will. It may not mean much coming from me, but our organization is different than what you think. Let us prove to you that we aren’t just ‘criminals.’”

“It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice,” you sniffled, toying with the hem of your sleeve.

Ijichi smiled at you, the expression softening his face and lightening the dark circles under his eyes. “We aren’t too far from our destination, but please try to relax some.”

He left the light on as he started to drive again, quickly pulling back onto the road with smooth precision. You sighed, suddenly aware of the massive amount of tension in your shoulders and back that wasn’t there an hour ago. Ijichi leaving the light on was a small gesture, but it did help you relax. Ino remained silent in the passenger seat, and every so often, you could see him glance at you using the rearview mirror, but the atmosphere was no longer tense. Still, you couldn’t shake all of the anxiety from your mind as the car traveled on.

After a few more minutes passed, Ijichi turned the car down an almost-hidden road, and the massive outline of a house appeared through the dark curtain of trees. As you drew closer, the soft glow of lanterns lined a well-paved stone driveway, growing brighter and illuminating more of the multi-floored house and surrounding gardens. Your mouth parted in a silent exclamation as you stared out the window. It was gorgeous…. dark and sleek, like a modern mansion, but heavily influenced by the style of a traditional Japanese home. Like many other people who lived in Tokyo, you’d only ever lived in a tiny, very drab city apartment; there was no way you could fathom anyone owning something that massive.

You tried to stifle your amazement, quietly reminding yourself that you weren’t here to ogle some crime boss’s home as Ijichi pulled up and around to the front steps. Ino stepped out, opened your door, and offered his hand with a small smile. As you looked out, you were distracted by two massive stone dragon statues that flanked the steps. Their teeth were permanently bared in a protective snarl as a warning for those who entered, and you shivered.

“Kintatsu-Ikka,” Ino reminded you coyly.

Tentatively, you accepted the young man’s help, and he led you onto the beautiful wooden engawa that surrounded the entire mansion. He didn’t even need to unlock the door; he simply pushed it open to lead you inside.

Your jaw dropped despite your best attempt to keep a neutral expression; the interior was somehow even more beautiful than the exterior. Moonlight entwined with lanternlight pooled through massive floor-to-ceiling windows, shining on dark, polished wood floors. A crackling fire burned in a glass fireplace beside a common area furnished with plush-looking leather couches and chairs.

Notably, the central couch was occupied by a young boy in the most rumpled suit you’d ever seen. He was completely sprawled out in a position that made your back hurt just to look at, watching a cheesy action movie on a glossy, widescreen T.V. that probably cost more than your entire yearly salary.

Ino chuckled at your awe-struck expression, “I know, right? I think everyone had that reaction the first time they saw the place. Our Oyabun has good taste.”

The young boy perked up at the sound of Ino’s voice, nearly falling off the couch as he tried to stand up. “Kyodai! You’re back!”

He bounced onto the floor with youthful zeal, altogether abandoning the movie he had been so engrossed in and running up to the two of you. “Hi, I’m Yuji. Who are you?”

Yuji cocked his head at you in curiosity, the sudden movement causing his strawberry-pink hair to flop to one side. You smiled and introduced yourself, charmed by the sweet boy, but your inner thoughts only grew more complicated.

“This sweet boy is supposed to be a criminal?? Why do none of these supposed Yakuza act or look anything like the stories?”

Of course, you had heard more than your fair share of stories about the shady criminal organizations that Japan was so infamous for. Yakuza were supposed to be malicious gangsters who only pretended to follow an honor code. They were supposed to be rough, low-life criminals who had simply been given a spit-shine and a suit, but the young boy who stood in front of you seemed like an overeager puppy, energetic and harmless.

Yuji’s eyes shone as he recognized your name. “Oh! You’re-”

“Can’t talk now, little bro. She’s got a meeting with your dad.” Ino interrupted him, pulling you past before you could register what he said.

Ino led you past a few rooms where the glossy wooden floors gave way to traditional tatami mats. You turned down another hallway, passing more closed doors and what looked like a sizeable library before the two of you arrived at the end of the hallway, where one more door waited. The soft glow of lamplight shone out from the frame, signaling that it was occupied. Your stomach fluttered anxiously as Ino stepped up and knocked softly. A low, delighted chuckle came from inside, and your heart stopped as the door finally swung open.

“N-Nanami-san?!?” You managed to squeak out, almost dropping your purse in surprise.

You had no idea who you had expected to meet, but it certainly wasn’t one of your favorite longtime customers. Moonlight shone down on Nanami Kento's tall, well-built figure, further softening his sharp features as he sat behind a massive wooden desk on the far side of the room. Despite the late hour, he was still dressed in the tan suit and spotted tie he always seemed to favor. A few stray strands of Nanami’s beautiful golden hair framed his face as he nursed a glass of whiskey, raising the crystal highball glass to his lips for a taste of the amber liquid. He let his gaze wash over you, almost as if he was savoring your presence alongside the alcohol.

A low chuckle came from behind the door, and a raspy, darkly intelligent voice teased. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d ignore me…. I’m hurt.”

Your heart had stopped earlier, but now it just left your body entirely as Higuruma Hiromi stepped into view. As always, he was almost the visual opposite of Nanami but no less handsome in his black suit. Hiromi walked towards you, tall and lanky, darkly attractive with mussed hair and a near-permanent look of exhaustion hidden behind a small grin.

“Don’t badger her, Hiromi. She’s had a long day.” Nanami chastised firmly.

Hiromi adjusted the sleeves of his crisp dress shirt and gave you a lopsided grin that made your stomach churn. “Sorry, sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood.”

The two men were night and day from each other, but they were both your favorite patrons by far, each visiting the Cafe on the same day every week. As certain as night became day, Hiromi showed up on Monday mornings, and Nanami visited you every Thursday. You had grown to cherish their company, even allowing them to come and visit with you in the early hours before the Cafe actually opened, something you had never let anyone else do. However, neither man had ever mentioned the other, and you had never seen them at the same time. You had absolutely no reason to think the men had known each other.

A memory flashed through your mind as you stared at Nanami, gasping for air.

He had come to visit even earlier than usual one morning, walking in while you were tending to the pastry dough in your small professional kitchen.

Nanami had poked his head in to find you listening to an old song on your small radio, swaying your hips and humming along to the infectious tune. You were in your own little world, completely oblivious to his presence as you systematically filled croissant dough with chocolate and plopped them onto an awaiting tray.

You moved to place the tray into the oven but tripped over a rag on the way over, crying out as you braced to hit the hard tile floor…. but the pain you had expected never arrived. Instead, you landed against a broad chest and surprisingly muscular arms that broke your fall. The pastries hit the floor with a loud clatter, but it didn’t matter as Nanami chuckled in your ear, his low, rich voice bringing a deep flush to your cheeks as his hand stroked your waist.

“Careful, now.”

Only a few weeks later, Hiromi knocked on your front door one morning and stumbled in, tired and exhausted from “a long night at work,” but he had come anyway, wholly unwilling to miss his visit with you.

“You’d worry too much if I didn’t come,” he’d grinned at you, teasing but infuriatingly correct.

You had steadfastly ignored him, instead choosing to chastise the exhausted man for not taking better care of himself. You made his usual order from memory while making him swear that he’d get more rest. As you pushed the warm cappuccino into his hands, Hiromi’s clever fingers brushed against yours in a way that made your heart flutter.

“Anything for you,” he had said, looking into your eyes with a smile that made your knees weak.

You lurched back to reality as Hiromi led you to a plush leather armchair and gently helped you sit back. Your movements were slow and robotic, but you didn’t pull away from the warmth of his hand.

“What… what the fuck is going on?” You suddenly felt breathless, like you were drowning in the deep end of a pool. Hurt and anger flashed through you like wildfire. You had let these men in. Not only that, you had trusted them and grown to care for each of them.

“I’m sorry. We should have told you sooner.” Nanami sighed, “We both agree that keeping you in the dark was wrong, but please give us the chance to explain. The last thing either of us wanted was to hurt you.”

Hiromi reluctantly pulled away from your side, returning to take his seat next to Nanami. He nodded in agreement with the blonde man’s words and took a deep drink from his wine glass before he spoke. “We may not have been completely forthright with everything, but I promise that neither my brother nor I ever lied to you.”

“But… I thought you were a salaryman, and I thought you were a lawyer?? You didn’t ever mention each other, but now you’re brothers? I thought I knew you. What are you… Who are you?” You questioned furiously, gesturing between the two men.

All the stolen touches, all the charged glances, and honeyed words... Were they all a lie?

You’d wanted one or both men so desperately that you’d deleted the dating app on your phone, praying that eventually, you’d work up the courage to ask one of them out. At night, you dreamed about how they’d touch you; in your wildest dreams, you even thought about what having both of them at once would be like.

Both men had the decency to look ashamed as a single, angry tear rolled down your cheek. Hiromi tugged at his tie as if it had grown too tight, and Nanami sighed deeply, bowing his head. “We aren’t brothers in the literal sense, but we are ‘brothers’ because Hiromi and I joined the same Yakuza family when we were young. You may have heard Ino refer to another member of the Kintatsu-Ikka as ‘shatei’ or ‘little brother,’ which is the same concept.”

Hiromi finished fiddling with his tie, leaving it undone around his neck. “As for your other question, I am still a lawyer, and he does have some salaryman duties; Kento still handles a lot of booking-related concerns because he’s too damn good with numbers. We both started our careers in administration….” he paused, selecting his next words carefully, “...before we decided that certain things in our organization needed to change.”

You stared at the desk, steadfastly refusing to look at either man as Nanami continued, “Our family split into two rival factions, and Hiromi and I each took control of one side. We reshaped both organizations but left them separate because it allowed us a certain advantage over other, much less savory groups. My men became known as the Kintatsu-ikka, and Hiromi formed the Kageakuma-Kai.”

The names bounced around in your brain, and suddenly, something clicked. You had heard of them; some of the other shopkeepers around your district had specifically purchased protection from one of the two groups. They told you that the men were kind and honorable and could help you if any other Yakuza families tried to trouble you.

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were in the first place?” Your cheeks flushed hot, and you drew your arms around your body, desperate for some comfort from the way your heart ached. “Were you wanting to play with my emotions… to make me look like a fool?”

Both men looked instantly mortified.

“No. Absolutely not.” Hiromi said firmly, frowning as he set his wine glass down with a soft clink.

“That is the last thing we wanted,” Nanami’s handsome brow furrowed deeply as he agreed.

“You must understand that in our line of work, we don’t meet many genuine people,” Hiromi mused, studying how his red wine swirled against the glass. “Most people we meet either instantly fear us or they want something from us. You…. were an outlier; you were kind, warm, and just-.”

“Lovely,” Nanami murmured, finishing the raven-haired man’s sentence. “You were lovely. By the time we realized that we needed to tell you, neither of us knew how to. It isn’t an excuse, but we do want to make it up to you.”

“W-what am I supposed to do now?” You stammered. “Ijichi-san mentioned that the detective who showed up at the Cafe today was a ‘bad man.’ What does that even mean?”

If you had any doubt that the two men in front of you were telling the truth about being Yakuza, it immediately vanished as their expressions hardened in an instant. Nanami’s normally warm, brown gaze carried the full weight of scorched earth, and Higuruma’s dark irises glinted like obsidian.

“Don’t worry; he will be taken care of,” Hiromi muttered, staring intensely over the rim of his wine glass. His tone had a dark, glittering edge, and the implication behind his words made you freeze.

“The two of you… You hurt people, don’t you?” You questioned softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Hiromi and Nanami looked at each other briefly before the weight of their combined gaze settled back on you.

“We do, but only people who deserve it,” Nanami said plainly as if he were discussing the weather. “Both the Kintatsu-Ikka and the Kageakuma-Kai are groups that actively follow the code of bushido. We practice honor and restraint but do not show those virtues to those who do not deserve them.”

“That weasel knows that you likely have nothing to do with our organization. He’s a corrupt cop that another Association bought with their blood money; you’re innocent, and he’s trying to hurt you.” Hiromi spat darkly.

Both men radiated a fiercely protective aura that filled the room and made your heart skip a beat. You had been absolutely terrified earlier, and you had even felt betrayed by both men. They had certainly made a mistake by keeping you in the dark about their identities, but they had also done their best to fix it by helping you and answering all of your questions. A warmth began to blossom in your chest, replacing the fear and anger that previously resided there. With the intensity and honesty of your conversation, you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that both Nanami and Higuruma would walk through fire to keep you safe.

“So…. What do I do now, then?” You questioned with a soft smile, trying your best to extend an olive branch.

Their intensity faded, giving way to sheer relief as Nanami exhaled softly, and some of the tension left Higuruma’s shoulders.

“I’d like for you to stay here, at least for a little while,” Nanami responded gently. “This house is safer than almost any other place in Tokyo.”

Higuruma huffed into his wine glass, “I think you’re vastly underselling it, but I agree. My place would be the other option, but it’s in the middle of the city, and I don’t think it’s safe for you to re-enter Tokyo just yet.”

You looked down at your coffee-stained clothes and then back to the two men, trying to figure out how to ask what you’d do about basic necessities. Nanami caught on to your dilemma quickly, and he simply smiled and waved his hand. “Oh, don’t worry. One of the guest rooms is already fully set up and we can have anything you need brought in tomorrow.”

“We’ve caused you enough stress,” Higuruma acknowledged with an apologetic smile. “I can easily speak for both of us when I say that we’d like to take good care of you while you’re here.”

The lamplight reflected off his dark eyes, which were slightly hazy from the wine. You blushed and swallowed nervously at his words; your frustration had evaporated, leaving you painfully aware of the feelings you still harbored toward both men.

“You’re to treat my home as your own while you’re here,” Nanami added softly. “Ino and Yuji will keep you safe if we have to step out during the day, but both Hiromi and I will be here all night, every night. We will do everything in our power to resolve this matter and keep you safe.”

The two men shared a pointed look before turning back to face you. Higuruma and Nanami gazed at you with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“It must be obvious by now that both of us… care for you,” Hiromi murmured, his black eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “If you allow us, we want to make up for our mistakes. We want to care for you- honestly, we’d both like to spoil you rotten.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Nanami nodded in agreement. “We both just want to see you safe and happy.”

“Thank you. I feel much better now with both of you here,” you murmured, desperately trying to keep your voice from shaking.

It was true. You did feel much better, but you were also completely exhausted from the day's harrowing events. Your body had held so much stress and tension over the last few hours that almost every inch of your skin hurt.

Hiromi noticed your discomfort, frowning slightly. “Kento, let’s save the rest of this for later. She’s beyond exhausted.”

“How about a hot shower and some sleep?” Nanami suggested softly, and you nodded in vigorous agreement.

“That sounds lovely.” You murmured wistfully, already imagining how the hot water would soothe your aches and pains.

Without further fanfare, Nanami and Higuruma got up to escort you from the office. Your legs were wobbly from sheer exhaustion, but you managed to stand and follow the two men without any major issues. As they led you through the house, it was empty; everyone else had either gone home or had long since gone to bed.

“This will be your room, and the one next to it is mine. Hiromi is on your other side, and my son sleeps across the hall,” Nanami said with a smile, gesturing at each door in turn. If you need anything, please let one of us know.”

“I will,” you murmured, returning his smile.

Both men studied you carefully in the dim lighting. They seemed reluctant just to leave you alone, but Hiromi finally broke the silence rather awkwardly. “Er, well, I can only think of one more thing you’ll need to know. We wanted to give you clean clothes to sleep in, but we don’t have many women around… Anyway, we both left you a few choices that should be comfortable enough.”

Hiromi’s voice was raspier than usual as he looked to the side and scratched his head sheepishly. A light flush had spread across the lawyer's cheeks if your eyes weren’t tricking you in the dim lighting.

“Ok….?” You said tentatively. Part of you questioned his reaction, but the tired half of your brain just decided to go with it.

“Good night, then. We are glad that you arrived safely.” Nanami whispered with a small smile as the two men headed off to their respective rooms.

Unsurprisingly, the room they had you staying in was no less beautiful than the rest of the house, but you were far too tired to inspect it thoroughly. All you cared about was the large, soft bed and the attached bathroom as you opened the door, threw off your clothes, and immediately jumped into the shower. The warm water felt just as good as you’d thought, and the spacious bathroom was stocked with any luxury product you could ever need. When you were ready to get out, your skin felt soft and wonderfully pampered.

You still didn’t fully realize why Hiromi had been so sheepish until after you had toweled off and stepped back into the bedroom. A small, multicolored mountain on top of the dresser caught your eye, and you audibly gasped when you realized that it was entirely made up of men’s clothing. There were luxuriously soft sweatpants, pattered pajama pants, socks, hoodies, and many different styles of well-loved T-shirts, all laid out for you to choose from. Honestly, there were enough clothes in the pile that you could easily have pajamas or comfortable loungewear for an entire month.

Eventually, you decided on a pair of lovely knit socks, some soft grey sweatpants that were clearly from Nanami’s wardrobe, and one of Higuruma’s old law school shirts. It was almost unfair; the clothes smelled like a perfect mixture of the two men. A heady blend of leather, aftershave, tea, and tobacco clouded your senses, and you blushed, realizing that you’d be wearing their clothes and nothing else since you had no clean underwear to put on. As you dressed, a shiver ran down your spine, but it wasn’t from fear; no, this was a shiver of pure need.

Both Higuruma and Nanami had been recurring visitors in your dreams for many months, and you had only grown more desperate to know how they’d feel and how they’d taste. You wanted to know if they’d be rough, pressing you into the mattress with deep, almost brutal thrusts, or if they’d be slow and sensual, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you with their tongues and fingers, making you beg to feel their cocks. Maybe they’d switch between the two, or maybe they’d want you on top. Honestly, you couldn’t even tell what scenario you wanted more.

Your desire for both men had grown to the point where they were all you could think about. No porn quelled your appetite; no erotic novels brought you relief from the deep-seated desire that throbbed deep in your core and refused to leave for hours at a time. Honestly, you felt like it was driving you insane. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost swear the two men sent you into some kind of feral heat because you were always obscenely wet every night, nearly sobbing in frustration as your pussy begged for something more than your own fingers.

You’d tried overstimulation, erotic ASMR, vibrators, plugs, and even lube meant to replicate cum… literally everything you could think of. You tried to stuff your aching cunt full of every toy imaginable, desperate to find some relief, but nothing truly worked. Sure, you’d eventually orgasm, but it was never as satisfying as you needed it to be, and it did nothing to sate your desire. If anything, it was like only being able to swat at an itch instead of scratching it outright.

Tonight was even worse than usual; the way Nanami and Higuruma had been so protective of you earlier had only added fuel to the fire. You clenched your thighs together in sheer desperation as you slid into bed and slipped your hand underneath the waistband of your—no, Nanami’s—sweatpants with a whimper.

“Both of us care for you…. We want to spoil you….”

Their earlier words rang in your ears as you slid a finger through your folds teasingly, biting the swell of your lower lip to stifle the next pitiful whine that escaped. Your poor little clit was already throbbing, so puffy and sensitive that you had to turn over and bury your face into the pillow as you circled it with your fingers. The men you had fantasized about for so long were literally on either side of you as you touched yourself to thoughts of them, and you could only pray that you were being quiet enough-

There was a single, sharp knock on the door before it cracked open, catching you right at the moment your fingers slid into your soaked cunt.

You could hear Hiromi’s muffled voice, his tone urgent as he asked, “Are you okay? We heard you cry- oh.”

Two sets of footsteps entered the room and approached you on the bed as you slipped your hand out from between your legs, threw the sheet over your head, and prayed to somehow evaporate on the spot.

“Is there something you want to tell us, sweetheart?” Nanami rasped, voice low and thick with barely restrained lust.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy,” Hiromi purred, drawing another whimper from your lips. “We want to help you.”

You babbled an incoherent mess of words into the pillow, and Nanami slowly pulled the sheet back from your body. He hooked a thick finger under your jaw, gently pulling your face away from the pillow.

“Need you to use your words for us, darling.” The blonde man murmured.

“‘M so sorry… just need it so bad. Please, I need you both.” You sobbed shamefully, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you clenched your thighs together in desperation.

Something instantly snapped in both men. You felt the bed dip behind you as Nanami crouched down to pull you into a searing kiss. Hiromi slotted himself between your legs, pulling them apart, and you whined desperately against Nanami’s lips as the man between your legs pressed his gorgeous, hooked nose directly against your still-clothed cunt.

Higuruma inhaled deeply, luxuriating in the scent of your arousal as he growled and cursed under his breath, “Fuck, she’s so goddamn wet already.”

Nanami sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, nipping it lightly with his teeth as you moaned again, completely lost in your desire. Hiromi licked greedily at the damp patch of fabric that separated his hot mouth from your cunt, shoving his face even further in between your legs like he intended to devour you through the fabric of Nanami’s sweatpants.

“Ngh, ‘Romi,” You whined against Nanami’s lips as you kissed him sloppily, drawing a deep chuckle from the blonde.

“What about me, hmmm?” He teased. “If he gets to taste your pretty little pussy, what do I get?

Nanami trailed his lips across your jaw and down the corner of your neck, licking and biting at your pulse point before making his way up to coo against the shell of your ear, “I think I have an idea.”

You had never been so aroused in your entire life. All you could do was lay there as Nanami stepped away to undress, and Hiromi pulled you backward. He ripped off your clothes and coaxed you to your hands and knees, stroking your back and sides and whispering hoarse praises as you forced your jelly-like limbs to support the weight of your body.

As soon as you had all four limbs solidly planted on the bed, Hiromi’s patience snapped, and he lurched forward, sinking his tongue into your dripping cunt. The lawyer moaned shamelessly against your folds as he explored every inch of you with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your labia before reaching forward to stimulate your puffy little clit.

“Kento, she tastes so fucking good.” He groaned, leaning back to kiss and nip at the pillowy, soft skin of your inner thighs. You shook above him, back arched in pure hedonistic bliss as Higuruma devoured you like a man starved.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Hiromi wrapped his hands around your hipbones, encouraging you to thrust back against his eager mouth. Nanami groaned at the sight of the raven-haired man devouring you as he returned to the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, and your eyes fluttered open again. Suddenly, you were treated to the sight of the tall, blonde man completely nude and kneeling in front of you.

Moonlight shone through the window, once again illuminating Nanami Kento's form, and your mouth went bone-dry. Sure, you had noticed how broad his chest was and how his suit jacket clung to his form, but now you could watch the way his muscles rippled and flexed with every move. Certainly, nothing had prepared you for the massive, golden dragon proudly inked over his entire right arm. It started at his wrist, wrapping up and around his shoulder to bare its fangs in a ferocious snarl across his pectoral. Your gaze trailed further down, past defined abdominal muscles to where his erection stood proudly against his belly. It was certainly larger than average, but what stood out the most was how thick his erect cock was.

You whimpered, and your cunt throbbed around Hiromi’s tongue as your gaze traveled to the swollen tip that was already starting to leak pre-cum. The raven-haired lawyer pulled back from your thighs, chuckling hoarsely, “I think our pretty baby likes what she sees, Kento. You should’ve felt the way she just squeezed me like a damn vice.”

Nanami’s large hand cupped your jaw, stroking it with his thumb as he leaned down and pulled you forward into another bruising kiss. In doing so, he accidentally pulled you forward and away from Hiromi’s mouth, causing him to growl in displeasure.

“Don’t worry, we’ll learn to share,” Nanami whispered against your lips, trailing his hand down to palm your tender breasts. “Are you going to let me feel that pretty mouth, sweetheart?”

“Please…. Wanna taste you.” You nodded rapidly, already almost salivating in anticipation as the golden-haired man rose and shifted his hips forward. Without any further encouragement, you licked his swollen tip, swirling your tongue around it to taste the heady musk of his pre-cum. His thick cock twitched, and Nanami groaned your name softly, guiding his shaft towards your plush, kiss-swollen lips with one of his hands.

You greedily sucked the thick tip into your mouth with an audible pop as Higuruma continued to torture you with his tongue and clever fingers, still completely drunk on your taste. Nanami cupped your cheek with one of his large hands before moving that same hand into your hair, entwining his fingers with the strands. From the look of intense concentration on his face and the way his abdomen twitched, you could easily tell that he was fighting the desire to sheath his cock in your throat all at once.

“Fuck, sweetheart…. you have such a perfect mouth,” Nanami groaned hoarsely, reflexively tightening his grip on your hair.

You moaned around his cock in response, causing even more of the thick shaft to slide in.

“Perfect, hah, beautiful…. Divine.” He growled more praises as you slowly took more and more of him until, finally, you nuzzled your nose against the coarse, honey-blonde hairs that trailed up from the base of his cock.

You had never felt so perfectly and deliciously used as Nanami began to thrust his hips shallowly, sliding his thick cock in and out of your throat. Hiromi’s clever fingers kept circling your engorged clit in the most delicious way, and you launched higher and higher into ecstasy between the two men.

The band of pleasure in your stomach began to tighten uncontrollably, causing you to moan and drool even more. You could actually hear how aroused you were as Hiromi drilled his fingers into your soaked cunt, easily rubbing against the spongy spot that had you whining like a bitch in heat.

“Please cum, baby. Need to feel you cum.” Hiromi groaned reverently, almost like he was praying. He reached down to squeeze the base of his own cock hard, trying to keep from cumming in his pants.

“You're doing so well for us. Please, sweetheart.” Nanami joined in as his thrusts became shaky.

You wanted to tell them that you would, that you were trying, and that you were so close to the best orgasm you’ve ever had…. but you didn’t even get to finish the thought before your bliss hit you like a falling star, sending you shattering over the edge into hedonistic oblivion.

You cried out around Nanami’s cock, soaking Hiromi’s face in your arousal as your orgasm was ripped out of you. A shaky curse tumbled from Nanami’s lips as he felt his swollen balls clench hard. As if you’d started a chain reaction, thick ropes of his cum filled your throat, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered Higuruma’s hoarse cry as you greedily swallowed every last drop of Kento’s cum.

After a few minutes passed, Nanami gently pulled you off of his softening length. He held you against his broad chest, pressing reverent kisses to the top of your head and whispering praises against your skin. Hiromi remained pressed against the mattress for another moment, left completely spent from his own unexpected orgasm, but eventually, he slid up behind you, pressing kisses to your shoulder blades.

“Beautiful girl, you did so well for us,” He murmured hoarsely, allowing you to slide into his arms as Nanami passed you over and slid out of bed to run the three of you a bath.

You looked at him with eyes half-lidded in complete exhaustion. “‘Romi, didn’t get to make you feel good,” you fretted.

“Oh, but you did,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to each of your eyelids. “You tasted so good that I came in my damn pants like a teenager.”

—

After that night, you rarely went more than two days without warming the bed of one or both men. True to Nanami’s word, he and Hiromi spoiled you rotten with anything you could ever want, and both men quickly became excellent at sharing you. You lightened up their lives in a way that did not go unnoticed by those around them, but the three of you hadn’t yet discussed what would happen with your relationship when you were entirely safe and able to return to the city. The uncertainty weighed heavily on your mind for a few weeks, and you finally decided to ask the two men.

A few nights after you’d made up your mind, the opportunity to ask presented itself when the three of you went to the onsen late at night. Both Nanami and Hiromi used the spa and the attached bathing facilities almost religiously, finding it an excellent way to relax from the stress of their day. Like other Yakuza, their tattoos barred them from entering any public bathhouse, so they simply built their own far away from prying eyes.

“Ken, Hiromi, I’ve got a question for the two of you,” You murmured, slipping into the warm water of the sizeable, man-made hot spring.

Higuruma chuckled, pulling you close to nibble the shell of your ear playfully. “This could be trouble,” he teased, passing you to Nanami, who chose to press a soft, affectionate kiss to your cheek.

You smiled at the two men, lightly smacking Hiromi’s arm for the quip. He growled at you playfully, surging forward to chase you around the small pool. Eventually, he caught you and tossed you over his lithely muscular back like a sack of potatoes, giving you a perfect view of the black, swirling Oni mask tattooed across his skin.

He returned you to your rightful place between him and Nanami as the blonde man scoffed at him, although both of you knew the stern dragon secretly loved your antics.

“You were saying, sweetheart?” Kento asked pointedly.

“Mhhmmm,” you nodded slowly, “I… I wanted to know what’s going to happen when it’s time for me to return to the city.”

Both men looked at each other pointedly, just as they had on the night your relationship actually began.

“Well, we’ve been discussing that, actually,” Hiromi started with a small smile. “Kento and I have concluded that it’ll be beneficial for the Kintatsu-Ikka and the Kageakuma-Kai to officially rejoin forces.”

You stared at them blankly, “That’s good… I think?”

“Yes, it is,” Nanami murmured smoothly. “Funnily enough, we both seemed to conclude that most important alliances are forged through marriage.”

“And we aren’t planning on marrying each other, so, naturally, the best option would be to find a willing third party to act as a proxy.” Higuruma grinned at you.

Tears of joy pricked at your eyes, “You know…. if you’re asking me to marry you, you may want to ask in slightly less legal terms.”

Nanami slid up behind you, pulling you back against his muscular chest. He leaned down to kiss your shoulder reverently, cradling your body as if you were the most precious jewel.“Then allow me. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Hiromi grew more serious, but his smile never faded as he knelt in the water in front of you and cupped your hand in his, “And I would also like to ask for your hand in marriage. Let us make you the happiest woman in the world, darling.”

You pulled both men in to embrace you as tears of pure happiness rolled down your cheeks, splashing into the steaming water. “I love you both so much.”

Nanami and Hiromi wound their arms around you, completely interlocking your body with theirs.

“There’s one more thing you’ll need to know, love,” Nanami murmured next to your ear.

“Oh?” You purred.

“If you agree to marry us, there’s a certain…. competition we will need your help with.”

“And what would that be?” You asked curiously, glancing between the two men.

Nanami gently reached his hand to trail over your lower stomach, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized what they were about to ask.

“We want you to give both of us children, darling,” Hiromi husked, roaming his hands over your body, “But instead of planning who will go first… we want it to be a surprise.”

“You want to see who can get me pregnant first?” You asked in a daze. Both men inhaled deeply at your words, and you could feel them start to harden against you almost instantly.

“We’ve both seen the way you dote on the babies who visited the cafe… and the way you look at baby videos on your phone with that soft little smile on your face,” Nanami murmured, “Yuji could use a sibling or two… Just say the word, and we’ll give you a baby of your very own.”

Your face flushed hotly at the idea of growing round and full with their children, and you had to bite your lip to stifle a whimper. The three of you could likely fill this spacious mountain mansion with children, and you knew that Hiromi and Kento would make the perfect fathers. They both knew when to be stern versus caring, and they’d protect their family with their lives if needed.

“Fuck, you’ll be such a pretty mommy,” Hiromi groaned, palming the swell of your breasts in the water. “We’ll get to see these all full and heavy…”

“If I say yes…. Can we start now?” You ask breathlessly, drawing a hoarse laugh from Nanami and a pleased grin from Higurumua.

“I think it’d be a shame to waste any time,” Kento said, picking you up bridal-style and carrying you from the pool deck with Hiromi hot on his heels.

–

In no time at all, you were lying on your back in Nanami’s spacious bed with both of your future husbands hell-bent on bringing you to the pinnacle of bliss. You’d already cum twice, and now Kento was sprawled out between your legs with your knees hooked over his shoulders, softly lapping at your clit as Hiromi kneaded your breasts with his clever fingers. Every so often, the lawyer leaned down to pop one of your hardened nipples into his hot mouth, sucking on the bud until you cried out.

“Ken… ‘Romi, nnngh, it feels so good….. too much,” You whined desperately at the blissful almost-pain of overstimulation.

“C’mon, baby. Make another mess for us, yeah?” Hiromi begged shamelessly, leaning up to kiss you deeply. He swirled his tongue into your mouth at the same time Nanami swiped his tongue across your clit, and you saw stars, wantonly moaning into the kiss.

Nanami repeated the movement with his tongue, and your hips bucked off the bed, but the strong man simply pinned you back down with a growl that made your clit throb.

“Darling, darling, fuck- so beautiful. You can do it,” The raven-haired man praised you desperately, and your back arched off the bed as your clit throbbed pitifully. Every nerve ending in your body lit up at once as your orgasm ripped through you, causing you to shudder between the two men.

Nanami pushed himself off the bed and back onto his knees as he wiped the visible traces of your arousal from his chin and licked them from his fingers, smiling down at you in a manner that made you shiver with anticipation.

“We’re going to fill you up now, darling,” he purred roughly, “One of us is about to get you pregnant, so what do you say?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you mumbled over and over as Hiromi turned you over and laid you against his chest, making sure your legs were hooked over his. He palmed his erection between your legs, using his fingers to coat his thick shaft with your arousal before slowly sliding you down onto his length.

You moaned in tandem with the raven-haired lawyer as he bottomed out inside you. He was only slightly less thick than Nanami, but his cock was beautifully long. The swollen tip greedily rubbed against your cervix, almost pleading for it to accept his babies as Hiromi tipped his head back, panting heavily. You had to claw at the sheets on either side of him to keep from moving your hips.

“C’mon, Ken… ‘s not easy to stay still.” Hiromi groaned.

Nanami chuckled roughly, positioning himself behind you and threading his legs over Higuruma’s but under yours. “Baby, do you remember the word if we need to stop?”

You nodded frantically. “Please… I remember; just please, Ken.”

With another long groan, Nanami positioned his swollen cock next to Hiromi’s, doused himself with lube, and very slowly began to push in. At first, it felt as if you were being completely split in half by the two men. You were well past properly aroused, but the intense stretch of taking two thick cocks at once simply took time. Fortunately, both men were more than willing to be patient.

“Good fucking girl,” Kento moaned as he finally sank all the way in, his balls resting against your plush ass and his cock nestled directly on top of Hiromi’s as they took you at the same time. You sobbed against the dark-haired man’s chest, and he cursed loudly in return; the pressure and heat and delicious friction were almost too much for everyone involved to last any proper amount of time.

Nanami began to slowly thrust in and out of your core, which was now soaked with a hedonistic mixture of your cum, a generous amount of lube, and the pre-cum from both men. Every thrust sent him rubbing against Hiromi’s cock, creating delicious friction for both men and giving you the overwhelming feeling of being obscenely full.

Miraculously, the three of you managed to last another three minutes before you came unbelievably hard, convulsing between the two men as your vision turned white. As soon as your core began to flutter around Hiromi and Kento, both men were gone. They each came with a hoarse cry, painting your womb white with their combined seed as your cunt greedily milked it from their swollen balls.

Eventually, the two men slowly recovered their senses, but you were still absolutely floating. Hiromi pulled out of you first, motioning to Nanami to keep their cum tucked safely inside you. The blonde did so happily, gently keeping you plugged with his cock and fingers until the other man returned with enough clean pillows to prop your hips up properly. After sorting out your positioning, they quickly cleaned themselves off and returned to your side, ready to spoil completely rotten you once you woke up.

“Oh, and may the best man win.” Hiromi lazily jabbed at Kento, who simply scoffed with his own satisfied grin.

“The way I see it, we both already won.”

Tagging some friends: @pseudowho @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @cindyneko-strider @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @starlitnotes @makingtimemine @mischiefmanaged71 @galactict3a @dreahmdere @mirrors-musings

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leonw4nter · 2 months

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Lovebirds (of Prey)

Husband!DI!Leon x F!Reader

Here you are, quietly hanging out in the darker corners of an old-money party and waiting for Leon to arrive. Parties were never your scene and though you’d avoid being in one, duty calls and now you find yourself being dragged to one. You weren’t just assigned to be someone lurking in the darkness and carefully waiting for the time, no; you were assigned to be a bellhop and gather people’s coats and valuables before they entered the party proper. Unfortunately for you, you and Leon wouldn’t be able to come in as a couple to read people and the room for the neo Umbrella bioweapon trader you’re assigned to take into custody. You protested to your boss about this arrangement, especially that you and Leon are literally married. Just like you did, he also protested against this but you two had no choice but to accept this arrangement.

“I’m sorry baby. I know this will be slightly awkward for us both but it’s just for a mission right? I promise that this is the first and last time we’ll have something like this,” Leon reassures you as he drives you both home.

“Yeah. Don’t tell this to the kids, they’ll think we’re separating,” you softly respond. With a soft sigh, you unbutton the topmost button and lean against the window as you mindlessly stare at the cars speeding past.

“Yeah,” Leon responds. He puts a large hand on your thigh, giving you a comforting squeeze even if he keeps his eyes trained on the road and the other hand on the wheel. “I love you honey. You know that?”

“Yeah, I love you too.”

A few hours later, you two send the kids over to your parents’ house before suiting up for the mission: Leon in a sharp suit and you in your bellhop uniform. You fitted all straps and subtle holsters, making sure they were secure and well-concealed in the clothing you guys wore. Leon handed you the earpieces and cuff mics, making sure they were also well-hidden. Since Leon will be entering the party via the main entrance where everyone else is required to enter through, he will enter unarmed but with connections to the expertly placed agents throughout the party he’ll be able to arm himself while looking for the target, a neo Umbrella genetic engineer named Svetlana Noble. You two left separately, sharing a kiss and words of good luck before leaving the door and heading for your destinations.

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A few hours later, you’re lugging around dense fur coats and several car keys as you head to the storeroom of the guests’ belongings. You haven’t seen Svetlana yet and Hunnigan hasn’t given her a signal yet so you safely assumed that she isn’t around yet although you reminded the other agents planted around the scene to stay sharp. A sleek black Aston Martin DB9 Carbon Black pulls up into the driveway, which catches your attention but you don’t pay it much attention. That is, until you heard Leon’s voice.

“My lady,” he says in a low voice, though his words are not meant for you. You turn your head and see another lady, a fellow agent, take his hand and exit from her side of the car. She looks beautiful: her glossy hair that fell until her tailbone straightened, elegant glitter makeup highlighting her features, and a matching black dress with gemstones sewn in. She giggled at Leon’s voice a little too hard, making you seethe and glare at them from a distance. You know that this is all for a mission and the appearance of a woman in love with the man she came in with is necessary to throw off suspicions. Before another bellhop can accommodate them, you step in and put on a well-mastered fake smile.

“Good evening, esteemed guests.” you greet. You meet Leon’s eyes and he almost chokes on his own spit, his ears slightly going red but maintaining a composed appearance despite this.

“Good evening,” he greets you back before handing you the keys to the car. Since the lady didn’t have a coat, there was nothing to carry back to the storage room and as the pair of them left, you couldn’t help but burn holes into that perfect hair of hers. Y/N calm down, this is just a mission and they’re just faking it. They’re just faking it.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Now that all the guests have arrived, you move from your post at the entrance and towards a darker corner of the party while lugging around cases filled with guns and other weapons to send to the other agents stationed around; some agents had partners like Leon, others went alone. Some were like you, assigned to a hotel staff role. It was hard to keep your eye on the target while Leon and the younger agent were dancing, a well-manicured hand on his shoulder as he sways them. If Leon is truly amazing at putting on a pleased facial expression then he’s doing damn too well of a job at keeping up that facade, the insecurity pushed to the front of your mind and threatening to take full rein of your decision-making yet you fought for control again, knowing that you can’t fuck this mission up. Leon leans in to her and whispers against her ear and suddenly you feel as if steam could start pouring out your ears. Luckily for you, you managed to spot Svetlana and another man taking a seat and have a discussion amongst yourselves. You inform all the agents in the area, giving them the details of the location the target is currently in. Svetlana takes a small metal briefcase out, showcasing several tubes and vials of a strain of the C Virus before promptly closing it and handing the case back to her guards. The guards, now in possession of the case, nod to her before moving somewhere. Given the go signal, you quietly follow them from a safe distance and start moving, a combat knife hidden on the inside of your black uniform. After a few minutes of following them and making sure they’re far from the party, you plunge the knife into one man before kicking on the other, making sure that you go for the kill as swift and noiseless as possible. You manage to do the job, taking the case and opening it up to make sure that you have the real thing and not just a copy.

“Osprey to Roost, I’ve obtained the case. Took two guys down, Noble’s men,” you radio back while getting your shoes back and trying to look as subtle as possible.

“Osprey, get out of there. I’ll request extraction for everyone. Noble’s looking for the guys,” Hunnigan responds. With a nod and a look back, you make your way out of the hotel. Entering an elevator, you expertly block the cameras and swiftly remove the top of your uniform and stay in the gray shirt you were underneath. You didn’t bother changing out of your skirt because that was all you had and without the uniform’s top, it looked just like any other pencil skirt. Swiftly walking to your red Ducati Panigale V2, you put on your black helmet and put the visor down before turning it on and getting the hell out of that place. All was well until a bullet barely even grazed your shoulder, causing you to almost lose balance and crash on the road.

“Shit!” You exclaimed. You switched lanes, making sure to get as far from whoever was shooting you. You swiftly looked back to look for the case that you had; it was still there luckily but you prayed that the vials were still inside and unshattered. It wasn’t like you could take out your own gun and start shooting since you carelessly forgot to take the firearms of the men you took down. When all seemed lost, you saw a familiar black Aston Martin near you with an agent hanging from an open window and shooting at the enemy car shooting at you. Taking advantage of the distraction, you speed away and into the meet up point right behind a port.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Now that the mission briefing is over and the adrenaline from last night died down, exhaustion and jealousy settled in your body.

“Baby, I know you’re jealous,” Leon softly says as he sits down beside you, handing you a cup of coffee.

You take the cup, taking a cautious sip since it’s still steaming. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Leon laughs, taking your free hand and nuzzling it against his stubbly cheek while he shoots you puppy eyes.

“Saw you loud and clear last night, you were practically shooting lasers out of your eyes,” Leon recalled. “Even when I wasn’t directly looking at you, I could still feel the unfiltered jealousy seeping from your eyes.”

You rolled your eyes, gently withdrawing your hand from Leon.

“I was not jealous. Just making sure she didn’t canoodle up to my man.”

“So you were jealous?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Sure. Whatever you say but I find it endearing. It means you want me the same way I want you,” Leon rasps out.

You finish your small cup of coffee, getting up to throw the paper cup into the bin before sitting back beside him.

“She was looking at you with the goo-goo eyes, it’s my duty as your wife to make sure only I can give you those eyes,” you retorted with a suggestive lilt to your voice.

“I especially love those eyes from you when they’re below me,” he whispers.

“I can make those eyes for you again when we get back home,” you suggest with a wink.

Before you can say another thing, Leon drags you up and with a hand around your wrist he leads you two to an empty janitor’s closet and seals you two inside.

“Why wait until we can get home when we can do it now. Think of this as a teaser for the real thing later,” he breathily mutters as his hands roam every inch of your skin.

"Let me show you just how loyal I can be from down here."

NOTE - I'm finally done with my Valentine's Day series!!! This was really fun to do and I never thought I'd be able to accomplish this but here I am!!!! I know Valentine's Day was like a week ago but I still srsly hope you had a fun time :) I literally ended up rushing this bc I had no ideas at first 😭😭Um something interesting that happened in my day was that my teacher said that the class will get a buzzcut if I get a buzzcut (as a joke ofc) and the fact that me and my friend are forever known as the students obsessed with fictional men bc we screamed when we got Gallagher from HSR leaks on twt (I don't play HSR but my friend does, I just find the characters attractive). I also found out I don't have a gag reflex (milked so much dirty jokes from this fact). Anyways, TYSMM for keeping up with my Valentine's Day fics and I <33333 UUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #fluff #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #biohazard #rebhfun #death island leon #resident evil death island #resident evil x reader

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goldfish-afterhours · 4 months

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Genshin Characters as Fairy Tales

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao x Gn!Reader

Type/Genre: Bulleted headcanons, angst/fluff

Warnings: Not all fairy tales have happy endings—major character death

Notes: Man why are fairy tales so sad

Diluc

Cinderella

On the night of your 18th birthday, your father holds a grand masquerade ball, inviting everyone in the kingdom

You, however, had little to no interest in such things. While the party was happening inside, you decided to take a stroll in the gardens

Who knew there would be monsters lurking in the dark that got past the guards?

Before it could devour you, someone sliced its head off with one fell swoop

Standing in front of you was a man with red hair, a black masquerade mask obscuring his eyes

You thanked him and offered him a reward, but he declined. Upon seeing your disappointed expression, he suggested just spending the night talking with him, since he didn’t know anyone at the ball

The two of you sit outside, talking about anything and everything as the night grows later and later

Just as the clock struck twelve, the masked man jumps to his feet, muttering something about how he has to get home

You try to persuade him to stay, or at least tell you his name, but he dashes off so fast you can’t catch up to him

All he left behind was your memory of his soft smile…and a black mask, dropped in the grass

You scour the entire kingdom for him, holding up the mask to every person you meet in hopes you find him, but to no avail

But a crazy idea pops in your head

Deep into the night, you stroll down the main street, unarmed. Just as you expected, a group of hoodlums threaten you, demanding money in exchange for your life

And just as you expected, the man with red hair returns to save you again

For saving your life twice, you insist on giving him a grand reward

You bring him, the son of a deceased and disgraced ex-government official, to the castle, and the two of you live happily ever after <3

“I was afraid you didn’t want to see me again. But putting yourself in danger was much too reckless.”

“That’s how much I wanted to see you again~”

Kaeya

The Little Mermaid

Kaeya, a merman, falls in love with you, a pirate

He’s always swimming beside your ship, listening to you sing with your shipmates of treasure, of good alcohol, of friendship, of love

Gives away his voice to have legs and be with you. He doesn’t want to just listen to your songs—he wants to be the one you sing them to

Cruelly, you fall in love with someone else

His brother, in an attempt to save Kaeya, presents him with a dagger, saying if he is able to kill you then he’ll be able to return to the sea as a merman

But how can Kaeya kill the one he gave up everything for?

How can he even dare imagine hurting the one he loved with his entire being, that he would be willing to walk on glass everyday for?

Throws the dagger into the water. As the sun rises, he watches you, laughing together with your lover, as he melts into seafoam

And as much as it pains him, at least he can see you happy one last time

You don’t see him as he is carried away by the wind

“No matter what…I hope you live happily.”

Childe

Little Red Riding Hood

He’s the Big Bad Wolf, and you’re an herbalist making your deliveries of medicine to your patient in the forest

At first, he’s too nervous to approach you, afraid he would scare you away

But one day, when he sees you shivering from the frosted air, he steels himself enough to offer you his red scarf

The smile you gave him as you wrapped the scarf around yourself was almost enough to heal the years of loneliness from his isolation in the woods

The two of you become friends: Childe shows you all the best spots to pick herbs, and you tell him stories of the outside world

The villagers fear him, a man-eating beast, so he never ventures out of the forest

Childe loves the sound of your voice, and he loved listening to your stories, especially this one story about how the Sun and Moon were lovers in a tragedy, separated in the sky

Protects you from the hostile wild animals in the forest

When the two of you realize you were in love with each other, you made no haste in moving into his cozy cottage

But when the villagers realized their beloved herbalist was in the clutches of the detested wolf, they all swore you had been tricked

They stormed the forest, armed

You come back to your cottage from picking herbs, just in time to see the villagers point a rifle at him

Even with your skills, there is nothing you can do but cradle him in your arms as his blood stains the grass red

“C-Can you finish the rest of the story? I want to know…if the Sun and the Moon ever meet again.”

Zhongli

Sleeping Beauty

In the wild overgrowth once known as the country Liyue, there exists a legend of an almighty god who had fallen into a deep slumber

To save your country, you set out to search for this missing god

The terrain is harsh, overrun with trees and thistles and bushes blocking your every way

But occasionally, you will stumble upon a statue, vines and moss adorning the structure, helping you to believe that perhaps there really was a civilization who lived here in the past

The wild guides you up the cliffs, into a cave where you find a dragon sleeping, his breath slow and shallow

There was something so lonely, so sad about this sleeping dragon, trapped deep in the country of a long-gone civilization, only able to wait for someone to come

You put your hands on the sides of his face, and, as if to reward him for all his years of waiting and to tell him he is no longer alone, you kiss his forehead

The moment you do, his scales scatter away like droplets in a summer rainstorm

You were no longer holding a dragon, but cupping the face of a man

His eyelids fluttered open, revealing amber eyes that glowed like the moon in the darkness of the cave, and you knew you had found your missing god

“Oh…you have found me. How long I’ve been waiting for you.”

Xiao

Beauty and the Beast

With each passing day, Xiao can feel himself transforming more into a monster

The weight of his sins grew heavier and heavier, covering him with ashes and feathers

Soon, there were rumours of a half bird beast flying over the village at night, searching for its next meal

You, an orphan that had been treated as an outcast since birth, was chosen by the villagers to be the sacrifice to quell the beast’s anger and hunger

But after being brought to his decaying castle, Xiao makes it clear he has no interest in eating you

In fact, he gives you free reign in his home, allowing you to go wherever you pleased

At first, he tries to scare you, tries to get you to stay away from him

But when you see him feeding the chipmunks outside, and the songbirds feel safe enough around him to perch on his shoulders, you no longer feel afraid

The two of you slowly warm up to each other. Xiao’s favourite thing to do is listen to you read

When he can’t fall asleep at night from the pain, he asks you to read him stories so he can fall asleep to the sound of your soft voice

You come to realize he’s not a monster but a hurt, scared boy who only wants to wake up from this nightmare he’s been trapped in

The two of you enjoyed your peaceful life together, until one day a hero from your village stormed Xiao’s castle, determined to either save or take vengeance for you

Xiao, who flew over the village every night to make sure no danger came to the villagers, could not bring himself to defend himself from this naive boy

As you hold his still body, you kiss him goodbye

To both you and the hero’s shock, the feathers stabbed into Xiao’s body dispersed, swirling into the sky

The feathers kept flying away until the beast you were holding in your arms became human again

“You’ve awoken me from a terrifying dream. Thank you.”

please comment/reblog if you’ve enjoyed! <3

#listen I did not expect it to get this dark #my writing #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin au #genshin headcanons #genshin angst #Diluc #Kaeya #Childe #Xiao #Zhongli #Diluc x reader #Kaeya x reader #Childe x reader #Xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios

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ramsesja · 7 months

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Defunding the police means shrinking the scope of police responsibilities and shifting most of what government does to keep us safe to entities that are better equipped to meet that need. The intention is one that supports removing funds from police departments and reallocating them to non-policing forms of public safety and community support, such as social services, youth services, housing, education, healthcare and other community resources.

Add Civic Cipher to your podcast favorites!

https://www.civiccipher.com

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milksuu · 1 month

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❝ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞ ─── ☾⏺☽

pairing: yandere!aphelios x solari!priestess!reader (LoL)

warning: non/con, fem!reader, possessive/obsessive behavior, mentions of blood/violence, religious/fanatical behavior, unhealthy coping mechanisms, minor drug use, implied kidnapping, implied forced relationship, semi-public sex, unbalanced power dynamic, runeterra au

notes: sorry besties, he's a 10 but he's bat shit insane. (so an 11) also any mention of 'her' is the moon goddess, not alune. (we're leaving that sweet summer child out of this.) and for those who aren't aware, phel can speak when not under the influence of noctum, but unable to communicate with alune, which is uh...great in this case. (also not me wanting to write a second part like how why help?)

You never thought you’d stare into the pale visage of the Lunari man the village whispered about.

The one with a vacant face but deadly occupation. Your naïve belief in your own safe keeping was nothing more than an illusion. The sun always faded below the misted cliffs, only for the moon to take its place above the mountain’s highest peak. An endless cycle of hierarchical dominance that rinsed itself in blood and repeated in constant turmoil. Tonight would be no different.

“Don’t come any closer.”

A failed attempt to embolden your voice beyond a meek plea. You stiffened at the thunderous closing of the temple door. A clambering echo vibrated through the marble floor and pillars, past the rows of worship, up to where you stood at the crest of the ceremonial altar. The remaining resonance rattled and sang up your spine, shaking the candle light pinched between your fingertips.

The figure sauntered forward, stepping into the drapes of moonshine filtering from the glass atrium above. Before you stood a deadly beauty; a handsome face rapt with enticing secrets. With a painted crescent that mocked your own solar marking of gold. His lips were a perfect horizontal line, and it was difficult to imagine the ability they possessed beyond lethal silence. His hallowed expression screamed danger—but there was no running away—not when the black abyss of his eyes invited you to stay.

Not as a guest, but as his permanent resident.

“I’m warning you. Take one more step, and I’ll scream. The guards will come and they won’t hesitate to kill you—”

Your voice went taut inside your throat. Your breath sewn shut against your lungs. The weapon he carried listless at his side drenched itself in various hues of red. Fresh enough to steam in wisps around the sharpest point of the blade.

He stalked forward. The clack of his predetermined steps quickening the pace of your heart. When he stood at arms length, you felt the coldest touch of night. The veins layered beneath your skin pounded, flooding every inch of you with mortal dread. It was sickening to think the flush of your flesh would only make the spill of it all the better. The ‘Weapon of The Faithful’—titled by his own blasphemous people—spoke true. His name…you wished you could cleanse it from existence.

“Aphelios.” You damned the name like a plague upon all of Mount Targon. “Murderer. Blight. Heretic!”

You jabbed and swung your candlelight in a pitiful attempt to create distance. His free hand quipped against it, sending it clambering to the ground, banishing the flame to the surrounding night. Creating a hazier veil of darkness where there was only one true light—his moon.

Out of sheer disdain, you attempted to slap his face in recoil. His unarmed hand caught you by the wrist, remaining still as you struggled to free yourself from his trained grasp. With force, he pried your hand open, palm exposed. He brought the skin of it to his stiff lips. Unmoving, he lingered there. His lashes fluttered closed; taking a moment of peace, a moment of prayer.

A moment for sanctum.

His eyes then winged opened, boring into you, through you. Body, bone and soul. And all you could do was tremble within them. Sinking without escape into those black depths of…nothing.

In one swift motion, he brought the blade upwards, slicing through the thin linen of your garments. In a precise vertical line, your gown split into two equal halves. The insignificant barrier between you and him slipped to the ground, splaying like rags at your feet. Your head pounded for you to scream, but your own voice felt lost to you. Knowing it was all meaningless.

No one would hear you.

No one would save you.

Weakened by the surmounting despair of it all, if he hadn’t already had a hold on you, your legs would have given to the earth.

“No—“ you choked out, eyes brimming with tears. It must’ve looked pathetic; the way you placed your only free arm across your exposed breasts. As if any decorum of modesty would spare you. “Please—just kill me. Do nothing else but that. I beg of you.”

Your final sob for mercy reached ears that may as well have been carved of stone. He stalked closer, forcing your lower back to meet the mantled altar behind you. He’d sheathed his weapon, and took both of your hands within one tight grasp, in case you had half a mind to oppose him. You dipped your chin, heaving through a prayer with mournful hics and sniffled utterances. His advancing weight forced your trembling legs to part, and slotting himself between, created a space where your faith could never exist.

You didn’t want to look at him, or rather, you couldn’t. Tears scorched your vision and seared down the round of your cheeks. You flinched when he took your chin, raising your blurry gaze to meet his. In those darkest of pools, something gave. An insignificant speck of light gleaming into a faint existence. His lips moved, but there was no sound. Instead, you traced the words from the bow of his mouth.

‘Forgive me.’

Your heart clenched. Diluted blood spiked with fear drowned your consciousness. It left no room for thoughts to linger; whether or not you imagined even an ounce of sympathy reflected in those sedated eyes. Whether or not you imagined he said anything at all.

The entire world scattered away when he brought your face closer, and kissed away the tears staining the corners of your eyes. You fought to pull away, but he held firm, both your chin and hands locked in the cage of his fingers. From your cheeks, he skimmed his ghostly lips to your mouth. He muffled your protestive moans by filling up your mouth with all of his tongue.

He gave you the salt taste of your own tears. That, and the taste of something else. A saccharine flavor with notes of floral and bitter earth.

A reaction flourished; a slight tingle of your lips at first. It made his tongue feel hotter against yours, as parts of your upper mouth went numb. A stream of lukewarm paralysis seeped past your soft palate, filling every nook and cranny of your mindscape. Yet, the secondary symptoms didn’t stop there. An opposite wave traversed down your throat to your stomach, spilling fire throughout every layer of nerves. You clenched your lashes tight, shuddering a gasp into his open mouth.

When the pain settled into a dull simmer, you wondered briefly, had he felt it too? Had he consumed such a substance by choice? If that was a taste, what pain did he endure if he drank it like an offering of wine?

You didn’t want to imagine the terrible effects it might’ve had on his person. Not if it gave you even a single drop of sympathy. It was revolting enough his saliva was poisoning your pure sense of self. The fog of it sullying your inhibitions, stripping away your layers of moral preservation. To the absolute vitriolic parts of yourself, it made you consider…

What would it be like to be touched?

It was too sick and cruel of a thing to do to you. Since birth, you’d devoted your body and soul to your divine Goddess; The Golden Sister. You wanted to be disgusted by allowing the gift of yourself to become tainted by some awful man. No—he was worse than that. Or any word you could craft and cut the corners of your mouth with. He was, by biblical history, a Lunari man born from the cataclysmic eclipse of two moons. A day that marked the day of reckoning of the Solari faith and your people.

Your clouded senses and busied mouth made you unaware that his hand left your face to trail the mounds and curves of your body. A light touch drifting to your inner thighs. You jolted when a finger graced the sensitive hood of your exposed clit. Your thighs squirmed at his side as you attempted to jerk your knees. It did nothing and stirred nothing from him. Except bolster his conviction, tempting a finger lower, teasing your folds already glistening.

Although light-headed, you ripped your mouth away and nipped at his lip. It sprang forth droplets of blood, enough to taste his iron on your tongue. A trivial satisfaction.

“May you burn at dawn,” you condemned and spat at his lips.

Unflinching, he withdrew his hand and brushed over the blood mark you left. Sweeping it across his bottom lip, along with your saliva, he rolled the consistency between his fingers in private contemplation. Before he looked you dead in the eyes and stuck his fingers inside his mouth. Sucking and licking till his fingers dripped. Watching sent a lightning strike coiling down your spine.

He loomed his weight forward until your back met the altar mantle. With your palms pinned above your head, and legs coaxed wider. His coated hand repositioned down to your entrance, and you writhed with any strength your body could lend. His hold wrapped around your wrists squeezed, gentle in its reprimand. He leaned down to brush his face at the side of your cheek.

“Please…for your own sake.”

Your eyes widened at his frayed whispers stringing together. Breathing life into what seemed like an empty shell of a person. The frigid space between his mouth and your ear kindling with the slightest bit of warmth. It was what you feared the most. Forced to accept he was every bit human, with a horrid courtesy to use polite words and a pleasant, sickening tone. More insult to your injury. You wished he hadn’t spoken at all. Letting you believe in your mind that he was more aberration or phantom. Or anything else that carried not a single hint of a beating heart.

“I don’t want to hurt you…not anyone, really.” Again, comforting yet noxious. And it made whatever was inside you throb so terribly. As if he could sense it, he reached for it. His salivated finger split through your folds, sliding into the heat of your cunt. It elicited a drawn out whimper as you felt the sensual brush of it against a bed of tingling nerves. Gradually revealing a hidden desire you hadn’t wanted to gratify him with.

“But you…and your people…need to accept what can’t be denied any longer.” He punctuated his words with each thrust of his finger as it curved into that crescent shape you despised so much. Yet, you couldn’t deny the way it made your most feminine parts unravel at the seams. ”No matter how high your sun rises, my heavenly moon will always eclipse it. And fill the sun with Her beauty for all to see.“

A hitched whine fluttered past your lips as he easily slipped a second finger. While the heel of his palm pressed in circles, spreading your arousal and stimulating your plumping clit. Your cunt unashamedly sucked on his long fingers, encouraging him to mold and form you into what he needed you to be—a conduit for the undying affections of his faith.

“You might not see it, but the divine path has been shown to me. The one that’s led me to you. You can feel it at least, can’t you?” He flexed his digits and plunged a third finger. Deeper than the last, fuller than before. Your hips rolled forward on their own accord, craving every bit of attention from his touch.

With deliverance, you answered the question with a wail and arch of your back. Your whole body washed its nerves in a blinding heat. His fingers curled and flexed at your hungry walls clenching around him. It pushed a gush of sticky fluid from your twitching hole into his circling palm. Coming down from the spasms, you sobbed at the humiliating response of your body.

“So you do feel it.” There was a hidden sentiment of relief in his otherwise placid delivery. As if he’d purged the last blot of doubt that restrained him. You swallowed a mouthful of whines as his probing fingers continued undulating inside you. “Your body…it’s begging to devour me in all its warmth. And mine, yearning to take all your bright stars and bathe you by moon glow alone. Wanting us—and only us—to become one.”

Without warning, he emptied you of his fingers, a filthy squelch following with it. You sucked in a gasp at the crippling cold he left you with. But he wouldn’t abandon you for long. Shifting in the dark haze above you, he unsheathed his length from his garments and pressed himself against your sopping cunt. He dragged his fullness against your swollen and slicked folds. He wasn’t even inside you, yet you felt an agonizing cramp fisting in your stomach.

“By Her orders, by Her design…” he spoke through tight whispers, strained by his own anticipation. Pressing his full weight down, he hovered mere inches above you, panting bouts of aroused breaths against your lips. “Let us Converge.”

You squirmed and bucked underneath him. “Nn…not with you…anyone but—!”

You broke off into a high-pitched cry as he stretched you open, filling you up till he bottomed out, and pressed up to the hilt of his hips. He silenced both of your newly coupled hymns with his mouth, and each lap of his tongue matched the tempo of his generous thrusts. The sharp, intrusive pinch died as quickly as it came—the insignificant remnants of toxin dulling bits and pieces of certain pain receptive nerves. A gift, perhaps, in this instance. He had also prepped you well enough to accept all of his adoration, as intended. Another gift, as someone of his ‘giving’ nature may phrase it.

Pulling away slowly, the tip of his head rubbed graciously against every ridge of your swelling walls, before languidly pushing back, going past where you seemed to end. Beyond your farthest points you hadn’t thought existed. Pressing and rubbing all your soft spots and cervix with careful deliberation.

Then again, and again, and again.

“Can you feel it…my devotion…” he groaned into your open-mouthed kisses, continuing to work himself inside you. You weren’t even sure if he was speaking to you, or through you to his false Goddess.

His free hand found the round flesh of your breast, rolling your budded nipple delicately between the pad of his thumb and index. The other hand, squeezing at your captured wrists, but never tight enough to bruise. He had you lulling in a spellbinding rhythm underneath him, your hands fastened above your head, and hair spilling over the opposite side of the altar. When his mouth left your full lips, he possessed the nape of your neck, sucking the delicate skin above your life line. Your mewls, laced with the chasteless sounds of his base squelching at your entrance, leapt your pulse to an unreturnable pace.

“So warm,” he moaned low, staving off a growing need to revel in his own whines of ecstasy. “This pure sunlight of yours…I’m blessed to be the one who takes it. And you should be too. What an honor it is to be of service to my moon.”

You wanted to hate everything about it. The way he kissed you, the way he moved inside you—but you couldn’t. Every stiff and engorged part of him pressed almost lovingly against your most vulnerable parts; but that wasn’t the proper word for it. His affectionate caresses were zealous in origin. Not even for you. And boderlined a hedonistic doctrine you couldn’t describe. It would’ve been better if he were a man of barbaric qualities; rough and brutal. Not purposeful and diligent and—dared you admit it—tender. If he were the former, then your disgust could be justified, and your body would refuse him in its own rightful way. But it defied you, the lecherous thing. Insisting you melted beneath him and reduce to nothing but a drenched mess. Completely at the mercy of this Lunari man’s act of worship.

“Are you finally realizing it now? How generous my Goddess is compared to yours.” He abandoned the curve of your throat. Within the flush of his face, his eyes were suppled in absolute vindication at your shameless image. “How willing you are to accept me—to accept Her.”

“N-No…I’m…not…I won’t,” you pried your tongue for words.

He drawled out a quivering whine from your mouth. His body picking up to an impassioned pace, rutting into your sweltering heat. Tethering on his own abandoned pleasure. Your legs pushed themselves wider, opening yourself up more for him, drawing him deeper to pound against the tender knot growing in your belly.

Choked moans tightened in his throat. Your radiance gripped him with conviction, burning him so divinely from tip to base. Dragging him closer to your complete consummation. His fingers caught the contour of your face, tilting your head back. Your already swimming eyes rolled to follow, and watered at the sight of your Solari Goddess. Carved out from the temple wall, her sacred marbled gaze met your disgraceful expressions.

“That’s…hn…alright. You can lie to me. I’ll—we’ll always forgive you. But can you say the same for your deity? As she watches her little sunlight being pleasured by the moon’s devoted weapon. I—ha…doubt it very much.” An airy laugh cut through his thick moans intertwined with yours. He continued, inhaling and exhaling his words, raspy and down right broken. “It’s—almost our time…as reverence…your insides…with all of my…”

You couldn’t refuse the vile implication of his words. Not when his thickened, throbbing cock lapped achingly against your muddled core. Your blood boiled, draining out from your collapsing bodily veins to well up inside your stomach. Applying a pressure that made you want to burst into unmendable fractals of yourself. And you did—that tight knot broke in an instant, dilating your insides in a blaze of heat. Flooding you so wholly, you almost forgot to breathe through your delirious sobs of release.

When the smooth ridges of your walls clamped down, you heard it first as a moan of afflicted surrender on his part. Then, the cock buried inside you pulsed. A stream of white-hot fluid poured into you, shooting well past your cervix, bathing your womb with his warmth. But he didn’t stop there, continuing to indulge. He pumped and pushed the concoction of unified fluids till it poured past his base, and dripped in milky heaps from your hole. His pelvic and abdominal muscles shuddered as his hips rolled slowly but needingly, nursing himself through his over-stimulating climax.

From your tearful, half-lidded gaze, you witnessed a wet glisten in his own eyes. Whether induced by overwhelming pleasure or pained remorse, you would never know. You didn’t want to know.

It didn't matter.

They evaporated the moment he blinked again.

When the heaves and pants subsided, only the echoes of your whimpers remained. Unfastening his grasp from your wrists, his icy hands cupped your sulking face, idly running his thumbs across your soaked cheeks.

“I understand your pain. Believe me, I do. But no amount of tears will keep the celestial cycle from shifting in the moon’s favor. Like any phase, there will be a moment when you won’t hate me as you do now. You might even come to...love me.”

The way he paused made it seem he had no sense for the word. Or what the difference was between what was love and obsession. The look he possessed didn’t instill solace, either; his eyes mere slits of black against his porcelain face. Promising the moment you dared turn away from him, the back of your neck would bleed.

”I swear to you. From this night on, you’ll burn brightest by my reflection. And only my reflection. So long as there's breath and blood in this body, I’ll protect your sunlight from ever fading in the hands of anyone less deserving than mine. By cosmic fate, you’re my entire purpose, my entire existence...” he bent and kissed the solar marking painted on your forehead. “My orbit.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #league of legends #aphelios x reader #yandere aphelios x reader #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yandere league of legends #reader insert #tw noncon #mdni

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ausetkmt · 9 months

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JADARRIUS ROSE being attacked by Police dog in circleville ohio

A Circleville, Ohio, officer who was seen on video deploying a police K-9 that attacked an unarmed Black man while he was surrendering to authorities is on paid administrative leave as the incident is under investigation, the mayor said.

Jadarrius Rose, 23, was bitten by a Circleville police dog on July 4 following a lengthy vehicle pursuit that began as officers attempted to pull over a commercial semi-truck police say failed to stop for an inspection, according to the highway patrol case report and footage released by the agency.

Mayor Don McIlroy on Monday identified the Circleville officer who deployed the dog as Ryan Speakman. He has been placed on paid administrative leave, the mayor told CNN.

The incident is being investigated by a use of force review board, whose findings are expected to be released next week, the mayor and Police Chief G. Shawn Baer said in a joint statement Friday.

The statement confirmed the Circleville Police Department “was involved in a mutual aid request by the Ohio State Highway Patrol” after the driver of a semi-truck refused to stop and the K-9 unit responded to assist.

The police union representing Speakman said it “patiently awaits the outcome” of Circleville’s investigation before it gives a further statement. Ohio Patrolmen’s Benevolent Association Senior Counsel Joseph Hegedus is representing the officer, according to a statement by Tom Austin, the union’s executive director.

Mitchell Christian, a certified police and military K-9 instructor who reviewed dashcam and body camera videos from the incident, said Speakman’s decision to deploy the dog onto a surrendering person was “not indicative to what a canine handler should do in that scenario.”

“The handler should be able to look at that guy and know he’s not a threat. You wouldn’t Tase a guy who was sitting there with his hands up,” Christian, who is the owner and head trainer at Christian K-9 Academy in West Jefferson, Ohio, told CNN.

Police dogs are not trained to kill or have “life-altering effects,” Christian said. They are trained to help officers apprehend a suspect safely and their level of force can be compared to that of a Taser, he added.

“I will say it’s probably not a good example for a K-9 handler’s decision-making skills there because I would say most handlers out there would choose not to deploy the dog on a guy who’s clearly trying to give up, at that point,” Christian continued. “Ultimately, it’s always the handler’s decision whether to deploy the dog or not.”

The vehicle pursuit began after a Motor Carrier Enforcement inspector tried to stop the semi-truck, which was traveling west on US 35 in Jackson County, Ohio, due to a missing mud flap, according to the Highway Patrol case report.

But when the inspector turned on the lights on his marked patrol vehicle, the “suspect vehicle continued west on US 35,” the report says, noting the driver made eye contact with the inspector.

When the driver – identified as Rose – failed to stop, the inspector notified dispatch to send a marked patrol unit to assist, the case report says.

During the police chase, Rose told emergency dispatchers that officers were “trying to kill” him and he did “not feel safe” pulling over the truck, according to recordings of Rose’s 911 calls released by the Ross County Sheriff’s Office.

The video shows authorities pursuing the semi-truck, which appeared to initially slow down and stop. As it does, the footage shows an officer getting out of a vehicle, pointing a weapon toward the truck and ordering the driver to get out. The driver does not exit the vehicle, however, and starts driving again. Multiple law enforcement vehicles are shown joining the chase, the footage shows.

The driver eventually stops the semi-truck and gets out of the vehicle surrounded by several police cars and officers, the video shows, before cutting to what appears to be a state trooper getting out of his vehicle and walking toward the driver.

“Come to me,” an officer is heard saying to the driver. Another adds, “get on the ground or you’re going to get bit.”

The driver is shown on the road with his hands up.

“Do not release the dog with his hands up,” a state trooper warns several times from a distance, though it is unclear if the state trooper could be heard by other officers.

The case report says Speakman “exited his patrol car and began giving commands to the suspect” before he deployed the K-9 on Rose after repeated warnings from the state trooper, according to the video footage.

The dog runs toward officers and then turns to Rose and attacks him, pulling him to the ground, the video shows. Rose is seen and heard screaming and crying out for the officers to pull the dog off of him, the video shows.

He continues to cry out as officers call out for a first aid kit. Rose was later shown being treated by the officers.

Christian, the K-9 instructor, told CNN Rose appeared “clearly confused” before the dog was deployed in the video footage because he was getting “two different commands from two different officers.”

“I don’t think the dog is lacking the training,” Christian said. “I think it was just a bad deployment.”

Rose was treated and released from a hospital before being taken to the Ross County Jail, according to a case report from the Ohio State Highway Patrol, which notes he faced a charge of failure to comply with order or signal by a police officer, a fourth-degree felony.

He was released from custody July 7, the Ross County Prosecutor’s Office told CNN, adding the office is still collecting evidence before it determines whether to move forward with the charge against him.

#Police K-9 handler who released dog that attacked an unarmed Black man in Ohio placed on paid leave while incident is under review #mayor says #ohio #circleville #k9 #k9 units #k9 attacks #dogs biting citizens #police dogs #police dogs attacking #defund k9 units #Jadarrius Rose

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neptuneiris · 8 months

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for the crown (03/03)

two things can kill the soul, emptiness and false hope.

pairing: prince!aemond × lowborn!reader

summary: you gave yourself to him, you love him, he said that despite your low status at court, he will still marry you, because you are his, the woman who was his friend since childhood, until the war comes.

word count: 9.3k

previous part • series masterlist

and here ends another story, I can't believe it :( thank you so much to all the people who supported me and who read, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, you are incredible beautiful people, I love to write all this with pleasure for you❤ see you in the next stories. this is the end, there will be no epilogue.

warnings: angst, denigration, abusive behavior, possessiveness, infidelity, betrayal, mention of death, blood, cuts.

"Prince Daemon sends his greetings."

That's what the man says as he holds a dagger menacingly against your throat, feeling the cold metal firmly against your skin, while with his other hand he quiets your sobs as tears fall down your cheeks.

Even you still don't process how you got into this situation. It just all happened too fast.

All the commotion happened so suddenly, a soldier in green armor shouted ambush and suddenly men with black banners appeared surrounding the camp at Harrenhal, while everyone barely had time to react and suddenly they were already surrounded.

Even Aemond.

The maidservants were the first to flee towards the castle in fear, so you too quickly decided to go after them as the enemy soldiers began to surround everything and kill the men attacking them.

When you suddenly felt someone grab you from behind forcefully without expecting it at all and silenced your screams with his hand, instantly bringing the dagger to the side of your stomach, placing the tip ready to be embedded in your skin, threatening you.

"If you want to live a little longer, I suggest you put up no resistance and don't make a fuss, my dear," the unknown man threatens in your ear in a low, slightly amused voice.

He tells you as he moves the dagger threateningly firmer against your skin, warning you.

However, not thinking correctly and acting on a survival impulse, you gather courage and manage to get the man off you by hitting him with your foot in his intimate part as hard and fast as you can.

The man gasps loudly from the pain, releasing you, giving you time to run and call for help, crying and completely terrified.

But the man immediately pulls himself together and angrily grabs you again in a quick and calculated motion, knocking you to the ground.

You cry and cry for help as he drags you away and you continue to put up resistance, terrified and desperate, but still he places you at his feet and then stands over you, immobilizing your movements.

"No! No, please!" you cry out to him pleadingly, crying, resisting and beating him as best you can with your hands made into fists.

"Shut up!"

He shouts angrily at you, then unexpectedly hits you with his raised hand right on your right cheek, hitting your lower lip as well, bursting it, while a wave of pain runs through your face and you stop resisting.

When suddenly everything goes strangely quiet.

Rhaenyra's army does not kill Aemond's forces, there is no bloodshed or battle as such, except when the green soldiers put up too much resistance and the archers shoot them right in the forehead, killing them instantly.

This is strange to Aemond, who with his sword in hand, alert and defensive, watches as he is surrounded by all those men along with his army, attentive and waiting… though they are not actually attacking them.

Not yet.

Desperately he looks for some way to free himself from the situation, needing his dragon to have a better chance, observing how his men don't even have their swords with them or at least not many of them, most of them being unarmed by the unexpected situation.

When then he remembers you.

More desperate than before, he searches for you among all the people, unsuccessfully, starting to worry, feeling the nerves invade him even more, hoping and wanting to believe that perhaps you have escaped in time along with the maidservants.

But if you've been ambushed so suddenly and so carefully, where even he didn't have time to react, he doubts that you were able to get away from it all in time.

But if you're in the castle, hiding, equally that comforts him a little. However, Aemond did not expect to see Alys came out of the castle.

Static and with clear surprise on his face he sees how a tall man, of broad build, with strong arms, wearing brown leather clothes, with brown hair and beard of the same color along with his wrinkled face, holds tightly by her hair.

Alys gasps in pain and he make her walk and with his other hand he holds a dagger against her throat.

She cries and looks hopefully at Aemond, asking for his help and completely frightened, while the man continues to hold her tight to make her move forward and threatening her with the dagger in her throat, until they reach the middle of the whole ambush.

Aemond cautiously observes the whole scene, trying not to look as worried as he actually is, taking a few steps towards them, about to speak when a voice catches his attention.

"Ah prince Aemond, there you are!"

He then feels as if a wave of fire will burn him completely alive as he now sees how a tall, skinny, hairless man with some visible scars on his bald head and also brown leather clothes holds you firmly, making you walk as you cry and continues to threaten you with the dagger this time at your throat too.

Aemond wants to believe this really isn't happening as the man holding you stands next to the man holding Alys, his two women now in front of him, each being threatened with a dagger, on the verge of death.

His heart rate increases to a faster, unstable one, feeling like he will vomit at any moment, seeing the scene in front of him.

But his attention is drawn more towards you, with the man mumbling at you, threatening you to stop crying, as he notices the blow on your cheek and the blood coming out of your lower lip, instantly watching everything with his jaw clenched and his hands making them into fists, clenching his sword too tightly.

"We've been waiting to see you, Prince Aemond," says that man holding you, watching him amused, "Couldn't miss the show, could you?"

"Let them go, both."

He demands in a serious and deep voice, angry, hiding his desperation and concern, cautious and attentive to anything, while the man holding you watches him even more amused.

"I don't think you are in a position to demand a thing prince, or are you?"

"Then what do you want?"

Aemond instantly snaps at him, his voice hard and threatening, his whole posture tense and still clenching his hands tightly into fists.

He doesn't understand anything.

If they're here to kill them, why didn't they do it from the beginning? He doesn't understand what they're getting at with this by taking you and Alys.

"What do we want?" the man repeats, then laughs bitterly and with cruelty, "No," he denies with his head and then looks at you, "What we want we already have… right here."

This sends shivers down Aemond's body, who unable to hide it any longer, watches worried and alert as the man presses the dagger harder against your throat.

Your stir and cry in fright, to which the man quickly covers your mouth with his hand, making you gasp from the pain, so you close your eyes tightly and let out more tears, sobbing into his hand, wishing for this to be over soon.

"When Prince Daemon heard that his nephew took the Crown in the Usurper's absence and that he took Harrenhal to gain more support throughout the Riverlands against his wife, apparently enjoying the company of not one, but two women in the midst of war… this got his attention and he decided to act about it."

Then the other man holding Alys speaks with a deep voice and a determined look, while Aemond listens and watches everything carefully.

"Now he can avenge the death of his son, Lucerys, properly."

The tension rises at that moment, Aemond completely transfixed watches with his eye wide open at the scene in front of him, with the man's words constantly replaying in his mind as he sees the two of you more than willing in killing you and Alys.

Then the realization also hits him like a wave.

Blood and Cheese.

These two men are the same assassins that his uncle sent to kill one of his nephews, in revenge for Luke's death.

They were never found, both successfully escaping the Keep after such an act that his sister witnessed and drove her into madness.

Aemond truly took full responsibility and understood that his sister could no longer even accept his touch or tolerate his presence, crying completely devastated the next few days after losing her son and to this day.

But now… the victims are not his niece and nephews due to the lack of children of his own, now it's you and Alys.

He didn't bother to keep his activities with Alys discreet. Everyone knew there was an intimate relationship between him and her, he even knows that word must have gotten as far as King's Landing.

As well as with you, the words spreading since he stole you from the Keep and brought you here with him.

This is why he understands that these men have taken you and Alys successfully, until now realizing the grave mistake he made in carelessly letting his weaknesses be known.

Watch as Alys watches him intently, pleading, as the man continues to hold her tightly with the dagger at her throat, and then watches you, you already watching him the same way she is, frightened and begging for his help.

"We will tell you the same thing we told your sister, Prince Aemond," Cheese says in a more serious and firm voice, "We are debt collectors. In this case a son… for a mistress."

Cheese's grip on you grows tighter, as you gasp from the pain and continue to cry, while Aemond presses his lips together and stands as still as ever, afraid to make a false move, watching and listening to everything intently.

He feels as if his heart is going to burst out of his chest at any instant, he wants to vomit and wants to burn everything to the ground because of the fact that he can't do anything about it.

He is completely helpless in the face of the situation.

"We only want one to balance things out. The other one we won't touch a hair on her head."

Cheese continues, along with Blood still holding the daggers menacingly against yours and Alys' throats.

"Then… which one would you prefer to save, your Grace?"

The tension increases with every second, as Alys stares at him pleading and you too, crying.

These words hit not only Aemond, but also you, desperately asking for his help, terrified, crying harder, knowing full well that the dagger in your throat can kill you at any instant, the decision being his.

You watch him completely attentively, as Aemond slightly raises his hand towards the men, swallowing hard, wanting to keep calm and peace, as he feels the despair all over his body.

And now he understands what his sister had to go through.

"No, wait," he says instantly, trying to sound calm and look less desperate and worried, "Wait," he repeats firmly and cautiously, trying to reason with them, "I'm sure we can come to a beneficial agreement. Just let them go."

Cheese laughs bitterly, as Blood answers for both of them.

"An agreement is not a mistress, prince."

"It has to be one of the two of them," Cheese makes clear, in warning, "And I advise you to make up your mind soon before Blood gets bored and decides to enjoy one of the two, prince."

Your heart rate increases in panic, as Aemond purses his lips and starts to become clear in his indecision, really wanting to believe that none of this is happening, when the moment is more real, terrifying and vivid than ever.

"Choose or we kill them both," Cheese says as a final warning, his gaze determined.

Alys stirs hard, drawing the attention of Aemond, who with the clear worry and desperation on his face, watches as Blood orders her to stand still while she pleads with him to choose her. Worry invading him more, feeling his fingernails dig into his palms as he squeezes hard.

When then his gaze turns to you.

Your eyes completely teary, red and panicked look back at him, pleading with him to choose you, feeling just as scared as he is, feeling your fear increase and you breathe harder each time you feel the man place the dagger more firmly against your throat.

Aemond says nothing. His gaze is completely hard, his jaw clenched and clear indecision is on his face as he watches continuously between Alys and you, watching the daggers in each other's throats.

And in that moment you have hope.

All the moments you shared with Aemond since you were both children you remember, all the gifts, details and the caresses that happened as you both grew up.

All those moments together, when he gave you your first kiss and when he claimed you as his.

You've been his friend since you were both children and his companion ever since, to this day. And you are hopeful that he will choose you, because that is what you would do.

However, seeing Aemond's hesitation and how he watches you so deeply, his eye desperate and full of concern, you still wait for all this to be over once and for all, wanting to stop feeling the edge of the dagger against your throat.

But Aemond remains silent, being aware that he has to choose soon, because he can't lose both of them. But seeing you and then Alys, the decision is very difficult.

You watch him without understanding, expectantly, while begging and crying for him to choose you, while the man's hand hurts you by your broken lip, but still completely attentive to him, wishing that this horrible torture where you are on the verge of death is over.

When finally Aemond seems resigned and finally points.

"Her."

And in that moment… everything around you stops.

Your face slowly softens in surprise, watching Aemond with your eyes wide open, your soul falling at your feet.

You watch perfectly well as he points to Alys.

You watch perfectly well as he chooses her.

Then all the realization also hits you like a wave, not even crying anymore because of the panic and because of the man who can kill you at any second.

But you cry because you realize that not even in this kind of situation where you are on the verge of death, he will choose you.

All you feel is an empty feeling inside you, as if something is missing, with a huge sharp pain in your chest, as you watch Aemond and you can't even hear what he says to the man holding her, everything sounding too far away and feeling like you are flying for a moment.

With your gaze completely devastated, you watch as the man releases Alys and Aemond quickly takes her in his arms, concerned, everything about him looking for a moment relieved, as he holds her and makes sure she's all right.

The way he holds her face, the way she watches him as she is now safe in his arms, everything hurts.

Feeling completely weak and watching the scene, really not wanting to believe it, it's as if your very mind is going into a state of resignation unconsciously, as that sharp pain in your chest is more constant and you feel like you're breaking into a thousand pieces.

The man removes his hand from your mouth to hold you tightly by the jaw, you barely feeling his touch as you continue to watch Aemond's choice attentively.

The two of them embrace, he holds her against him as if she is the most precious thing he has, making sure that no one will ever take her away from him again.

When then his gaze turns to you and though you don't know it… his cold heart breaks into pieces at the sight of you.

All he can see on your face is how completely broken you are, tears streaming down your cheeks, confusion, sadness and betrayal completely to him, all of you totally devastated.

He presses his lips together, leaving Alys aside for a moment when you've seen it all and now you understand it all, looking away from him and focusing on the ground, all realization in your broken gaze.

And it all feels worse when Cheese says in your ear, loud enough for everyone to hear:

"Did you hear that, my lady? Your prince wants your death."

Letting out a sigh, you close your eyes and let some more tears fall, accepting all this, Aemond, Alys, your destiny, everything… and you wait for death, giving yourself completely to it.

Cheese watches Blood with a malevolent smile, that being the signal, while you silently cry and wait for it all, when Aemond again intervenes, worried.

"No, no, wait," he urges.

But both assassins already have what they wanted, so Blood watches him with a dark look.

"There is no more demand here, Prince Aemond. You have made your decision."

"No, wait," Aemond says again more firmly, desperate, watching behind both men and again at them, so continuously, "Just wait."

"No, prince," Cheese denies with his head slightly amused, "No more waiting."

He says to again place the dagger against your throat decisively, causing Aemond to freeze completely and you weak freely allow access, hoping it will all be over soon, as Cheese gives Aemond a dark smile.

"Prince Daemon sends his regards."

And then everything happens too fast.

You let out a last sigh, with your eyes closed, letting yourself go completely, waiting for the moment when you will feel how the blade cuts your skin and the blood will come out of your throat, running all over your body to the ground and so you will bleed to death.

However, the sensation of the blade against your skin never comes.

When suddenly, the whole place again explodes into chaos.

The men surrounding Aemond's men are surrounded by Lannister and Hightower bannermen, neither of them expecting it and they are killed instantly, this being the opportunity for Aemond's unarmed men to take up their swords and defend themselves.

This immediately catches the attention of Blood and Cheese, also that of Aemond, who pushes Alys away and again takes his sword, looking desperately at Cole, who observing the situation, orders one of his archers to attack.

And then… an arrow pierces perfectly through Cheese's head, killing him instantly.

Without expecting it, you fall to the ground in a firm hit, feeling how blood splashes in your direction, only it is not yours, while the army that was with Criston Cole makes its way through the whole place to rescue Prince Aemond and his men.

And the moment that happens, Aemond reacts quickly, holding his sword tightly, in an instant heading towards Blood, who completely bewildered watches the whole scene confused, to then behead his head in a calculated and firm movement.

He yells at Alys to hide in the castle, quickly, then rushes towards you, who crying on the ground with Cheese's body next to you, he quickly takes you in his arms, lifting you up.

You look at him completely bewildered, while everything around starts to be a battle and a bloodshed, as Aemond makes you run for safety.

But the instant you finally react and understand what is happening after such a sudden situation, you move his hands away from your body, avoiding his touch, to seek refuge in the castle yourself, scared.

Aemond then begins to kill the men who had surrounded him before, with fury running through his veins, without measuring his strength and his limits, feeling how his fear from before is replaced by adrenaline and kills every man who fights for his half-sister and his uncle, furious for the situation he was forced into before.

And he kills every one of those men, until there are none left.

Some time later, all is quiet again, as carriages take away the dead bodies that were seen around and inside Harrenhal, while Aemond's men supervise everything and Aemond has a meeting with Criston Cole and all his advisors, talking and discussing about what happened.

Aemond immediately orders the word to reach King's Landing about the ambush and also how he has avenged his nephew Jaehaerys.

They also discuss how they could have been ambushed in such an unexpected way, really none of them having an answer, as Aemond runs a hand over his face and feels completely exhausted in every possible way.

It is not until he has a short break, still having many things to discuss and do, that he goes to your chamber, where he was informed some time before that you were being attended to by the Maester, that he can finally come to see you.

He finds you alone in your chamber, without any trace of blood and your hair still wet from the bath you took, the wound on your lip is already clean, but the bruise on your cheek is more than visible.

Even when you hear how they enter your chamber, you still don't turn around and continue watching through your windows, knowing perfectly well that it's him, since you would recognize the sound of his boots walking anywhere.

With your gaze completely broken, disinterested at the same time and with dry tears on your cheeks, you look at the mountains beyond, still feeling that sharp pain in your chest and still feeling weak.

Aemond lets out a long breath, shortening the distance between both of you, placing himself behind you, while you continue without watching him, the tears wanting to come out of your eyes again and pressing your lips together, avoiding sobbing and crying in front of him, not wanting him to see you that way.

In fact you don't want anything from him anymore, you just want to be alone.

"Y/N—

He starts to say to you in a soft voice, while his fingers touch your arm, but immediately your face hardens and you pull his hand away in a cold, abrupt and curt way, not caring, not wishing him to touch you, even without looking at him.

Aemond remains completely still, watching you, not expecting at all that reaction and behavior from you, while you continue firm, without looking at him and without saying anything at all.

He lets out another long breath as he looks away from you for a second, to look at you again with some anger in his gaze, expectantly.

"Now what's wrong with you?"

Nothing, you don't watch him or say absolutely nothing to him.

Do he still dare to ask?

You ask yourself, incredulous, not believing he's fool enough not to know what's wrong with you. Of course he knows, he just wants to make you look weak and dramatic.

But how are you supposed to feel and how are you supposed to act, when hours before in that horrible moment, he practically condemned you to death?

Aemond runs a hand all over his face and hair, his patience beginning to wear thin, not wanting to have to deal with you now when he's already had so much to endure this day and it's not even over yet.

"Are you done yet?" he asks you annoyed, "Believe me I'm not in the mood for your behavior right now."

And that's when you can't resist any longer, answering him even without looking at him.

"Then leave," you tell him without much emotion, "I didn't ask you to come and I'm certainly not holding you back if you have more important things to do. I'm sure Alys will be more pleased to see you, after all… she is part of your important matters."

Aemond completely loses his patience and in a second he's already grabbing you hard by the jaw to force you to look him in the eye, while you stare at him without expression, your gaze completely dead and empty.

"You are going to stop this fucking nonsense and you are going to stop it now," he warns you in a serious and threatening tone.

"Do not touch me," you tell him seriously as you again abruptly pull his hands away from you.

And again you turn your back to him, staring at the window, instantly feeling tears run down your cheeks, only you dare not make a sound, waiting for him to leave and leave you alone.

"Can you stop behaving like this? I'm sick of it," he demands, annoyed, "I knew Cole was coming, I saw him approaching and I knew you would be fine, I saved you," he exclaims serious, explaining.

Again you say nothing to him, not daring to look at him, tears falling more freely down your cheeks, unable to hold back.

It makes you sadder that he doesn't really know why you are this way, and it certainly isn't because you were terrified of dying. In some part if it was, but what hurt you more was that he chose her and you were condemned to death, is that because he didn't choose you… for her.

And if he knew Criston Cole was coming, then why did he still choose her?

He could have chosen you, he could have taken you in his arms as he did with her, that's what you would have done because you have known him for years and you are the one who has always been with him, not her.

However, you understand that you should stop thinking about what you would do for people, because that doesn't mean they will do the same for you.

That has become more than clear to you, because even if you choose him, he won't choose you.

He couldn't risk losing his precious Alys one way or another, wanting to make sure he had her really safe first, while you remained in that man's arms, waiting for your death.

You are not more important than his witch. He needs her to win the war for his brother, his family… and you are not more important than the crown.

"Hey, did you hear me?" he urges you, annoyed "I knew Cole would come."

You sniffle, lowering your gaze, then nod even without looking at him, looking the saddest and most disinterested, really wishing he would leave and leave you alone.

"Of course," you murmur to him without emotion, bitterly.

He didn't know anything.

Your mind tells you, only making you feel worse, even though you knew from the moment he chose her, not wanting to say anything to him about it, not having the energy to fight him.

And at this, Aemond has had enough of your attitude and disinterest, so he snorts bitterly, annoyed and tired, turning around to leave, not saying anything else to you and certainly having more important things to take care of.

You press your lips together, your gaze completely hard, really not wanting to say anything, but needing to get it out of your system, so in a low murmur you say:

"Liar."

And even though you've said it to yourself, still Aemond hears you and in an instant stops, turning to you again, instantly feeling his watchful and annoyed gaze, hearing you as he takes a few steps towards you, while you stand firm even though you don't even return his gaze.

"What did you say?"

He asks you slowly, like a madman about to explode, not liking your word at all. And you make it clearer to him, swallowing hard first.

"It was Criston Cole and the archer who saved me, not you," you answer him coldly, "Even in that kind of situation, you will always choose her," you tell him bitterly, "It was you who gave me over to death, because you didn't even know if Criston would arrive, it was just a coincidence that it came at the ideal moment."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Y/N. You don't know anything," he tells you menacingly serious, "So I advise you to stop acting like a fucking little girl and stop bringing Alys up every second when I've already explained to you, countless times, that I need her to win the war."

"Yes," you mutter, your gaze bitter, "You need her so much that you'd rather kill me first, than lose her."

"Seven fucking Hells," he mumbles, sick of it, "That was necessary, what do you not understand?" he says to you annoyed, "And yet why do you care so much? At the end of all this I'm not staying with her, it's you I'm marrying."

"Oh is that so?" you say without emotion, "I'm not sure about that anymore. At this point maybe your witch will marry you first before me," you shrug, "And I wouldn't be surprised. Even if that happens, you won't let me go. I'll just be just your whore, like I've been all this time."

"Don't say that," he warns you.

"Or I will finally end up dead."

"Y/N," he warns you for the last time.

You let out a soft sob, closing your eyes tightly, breaking into pieces again, the memory even more vivid than ever, the dagger against your throat and him choosing her, over and over again.

And you feel again how Aemond tries to grab your arm, but you push him away again in an instant.

"'Go away. Leave me alone," you beg him hurt and upset, no longer bearing his presence.

He tries to speak, when at that moment there is a knock on the door, so resigned and irritated he orders with a firm voice to enter, turning around to observe who it is, being the Maester.

He catches your attention as well, at once calming you down and wiping your tears away.

"Oh my prince," he bows his head to him, as you continue to turn your back to both of them, still controlling yourself, "I'm sorry to interrupt, my prince. I just came to attend to Lady Y/N's wound, I have already gotten what I need."

"I understand you have already cleaned and tended to her wounds, Maester," Aemond tells you cold and serious, watching him intently and intimidatingly.

"No, my prince. I tended to the wound on her lip, but the one on her throat is missing. I didn't have what I needed, so I went to get it," he explains softly.

Aemond frowns slightly, as the Maester makes his way across the room to you, who once calmed down and with a calmer and more serious attitude, you let him do his job, not looking at Aemond for a second and pretending that he is no longer there.

While he continues standing, observing the work of the Maester. He didn't even know that the assassin had managed to cut a bit of your throat, being a barely visible and small cut, but deep enough.

He lets out a long breath, looking away for a moment, running a hand over his face to finally leave the chamber.

He feels furious, annoyed and stressed by everything that still awaits him, instantly meeting again with all his advisors, the matters of the war at this point really bothering him and a lot.

While you, when the Maester finishes cleaning your wound, continue to be locked in your chamber, not having the energy for absolutely nothing, reliving the moment in your mind over and over again about Aemond choosing her… and not you.

You cry silently, thinking about it and also about Aemond's words of justification, only making you feel worse.

Even lying in your bed, really having no peace and unable to sleep properly, you still feel that sharp pain in your chest. Fortunately Aemond doesn't appear in your chamber again, but still you continue to suffer in silence.

And when you finally manage to sleep, the nightmare repeats itself, the words of that man leaving the choice to Aemond, and then he chooses her, and finally the man kills you in a fine and perfect movement.

At that moment you wake up, bringing your hands to your throat in an instant, breathing hard and gasping in fear, beads of sweat all over your face and body, hugging yourself and in an instant crying again.

He choose her.

Your mind tells you, not leaving you alone, thinking that Aemond probably hasn't come to see you because he is with her. After what happened… he must still be with her.

It's not like you want him to, but all this just reinforces more what happened and how you are nothing to him, how you are not more important than her and that you just don't matter to him.

All these thoughts don't leave you alone, feeling completely alone and more than vulnerable, letting the ghosts of the cursed castle of Harrenhal consume you in darkness… letting her consume you, the witch.

When the next morning, after one of your maids brings you a tray with breakfast, even though you have no appetite and do not wish to eat anything, there is something hidden among all the plates and napkins laid out for you.

Then it's as if you again feel like you're floating, the realization hitting you harder than before and that ache all over your chest making you feel weaker and more vulnerable.

Just now truly understanding… the role you play in Aemond's life.

Everyone in Harrenhal hears the huge roar of Vhagar in the skies, approaching.

It is not until shortly after that a vibration is felt throughout the ground, indicating the landing of the huge dragon and also indicating the return of the Prince Regent.

Aemond runs one of his hands over his face as he removes the helmet that complements his armor, instantly seeing the ash permeate his fingers from all that he ordered burned and destroyed to the ground, heading towards the black castle.

Since the ambush yesterday, having the meeting with all his men and advisors, this morning he decided to head alone towards Rhaenyra's army that was slowly approaching, deciding to wipe them all out from the skies, responding to the harsh ambush and killing all those men fighting for his half-sister.

He didn't act instantly, he had to wait for the perfect moment to attack and take them all by surprise.

And when the moment finally came, he burned every single one of them with their carriages and supplies, leaving absolutely nothing, making sure of it.

Criston Cole and all his advisors wait patiently for their return, watching Vhagar in the distance on some mountains, while the figure of Aemond begins to get closer and closer.

And once they are all in the Council Room, again the discussions begin.

"There is not a man or carriage left," says Aemond firmly, "All is cleared as to any movement on the part of the blacks."

"There are no claims that there are any more soldiers fighting for the blacks in the Riverlands, my prince. According to the spies and soldiers you sent."

"Good," Aemond says with a nod.

"Ravens arrived as well, my prince," Cole tells him, extending rolled parchments to him, "All from Kings Landing."

"There was an attack?" he asks instantly, taking the paper.

"No, they report that all is well, Prince Daeron is guarding the entire Keep. It is King Aegon's answers as to the ambush, the assassins Prince Daemon sent and he has also let it be known that he has sent soldiers for the loss, to equal again the men we had, all from Oldtown and Storm End."

Aemond nods, understanding and being pleased to hear that, finally hearing good news since he arrived at Harrenhal and feeling some of that peace he needed, also that hope of winning the war again.

He continues to discuss other plans, until finally the meeting ends after several hours, where his advisors begin to leave the room, except for Criston, whom Aemond watches him expectantly as he notices that he does not move from his spot.

"Is there anything else, Cole?"

The man watches him for a moment in silence, then lets out a long breath and finally speaks.

"Yes, my prince, there is something else."

"Well, speak," he tells him without understanding, watching him intently.

Cole again remains silent for a few seconds, while Aemond watches him, waiting, beginning to lose patience. When Cole finally speaks.

"It's Lady Y/N, my prince."

Aemond stands completely still, still watching Cole intently, not understanding.

"What about her?"

"She's missing."

He says and at that moment Aemond feels his whole body tense up completely.

"Her maid said she wasn't in her room this morning, so she searched all over the castle and the surrounding area but she didn't find her."

He lets him know as Aemond feels all that peace at seeing progress in the war fade away. He lets out a long breath, closes his eye and runs a hand over his face, wanting to believe this isn't happening.

"Since noon I've sent guards to search for her all over Harrenhal, my prince," Cole adds, "But there's no sign of her."

"Fucking Hell," Aemond mutters tired, irritated and now worried, watching him instantly annoyed, "And why didn't you say anything before?"

"I-I…" Cole is speechless for a moment, nervous, "I'm sorry, my prince. You had just arrived and I thought you would want to take care of crown matters first."

Aemond rolls his eye, beginning to feel furious, his whole face annoyed, instantly rising from his seat.

"Fetch the maid, bring her here. Now," he orders him upset.

"Yes, my prince."

Cole immediately complies with the order, while Aemond feels that at any moment he will go mad, trying to calm down.

When your maid enters the room in fear, followed by Cole, to be instantly interrogated by Aemond, being intimidated at all times and answering his questions in caution.

Then he himself gathers more men, even men on horseback, ordering several of them to head for the roads leading out of Harrenhal.

"If she's gone on foot, she can't be far, so find her and get her complete, do you understand? Without any wounds," he threatens, to which the men instantly obey.

Aemond at once gathers the men who are searching all over Harrenhal, wanting to hear news, but they all inform him the same thing: there is no sign of you.

And he instantly orders them to keep searching, not caring how exhausted they already are or that they have already scoured the area, he just wants to find you.

But the men last all night until the Hour of the Wolf looking for you, without success.

The next morning, Aemond in a sorry state, not having been able to sleep all night, being on the lookout to hear some news about you, receives the men he sent on horseback and they let him know that there is no trace of you on any road.

Aemond demands that they tell him exactly what they saw, how far they got and making sure they did their job well, annoyed and beginning to lose his patience completely, taking his bad mood out on all those men, demanding answers.

However, no one finds anything, but he forces them to search again, not caring about anything, feeling that at any moment he will go mad, despair and worry eating him alive.

When they leave him alone in the room, even Alys comes looking for him, asking him if he's all right and offering a distraction for a moment, but he dismisses her instantly, not having the slightest interest in her now, too occupied thinking only of you.

He is left alone in the Council Room, running his hands all over his face and eye, feeling more despair all over his body, when a few moments later, Cole enters the room, cautious and watching him with some pity.

"My prince," he makes him aware of his presence, approaching towards him.

"Did you find her?" he asks at once in a serious voice and looking completely tired.

"Yes, my prince."

He answers in a murmur to his great surprise, making him watch him instantly attentive. Then he lets out a long breath, feeling all that tension and despair leave his body completely, feeling relieved.

"Fucking finally," he mutters still angry, getting up from his seat, ready to head towards you.

"My prince," Cole tells you instantly, taking a step towards him, "You must know something—

"What?" he inquire annoyed, "I don't have time for this. Where is she?" he demands to know, putting on his black coat, watching him expectantly.

"Wait my prince, s-she's—

"Just tell me where the fuck is she!" he demands desperately.

"She's dead!"

Cole tells him without further ado, stopping Aemond completely, as he looks at him seriously and with a sorrowful look, assuring him completely that he is serious and that he would never dare to say something like this if it were not true, while Aemond is completely paralyzed.

He watches him with his lips half open and his eye wide open, surprised and not expecting it at all.

"She was found in the lake just beyond the main road of Harrenhal, hidden in bushes," he explains to him gently, cautious, not wanting to disturb him further, "She had a dagger and cuts on both wrists," he says very carefully, preparing to say the next thing in the same way, "Apparently she did it to herself, my prince."

Aemond feels like he can't hold himself on his feet, leaning back against one of the chairs, watching Cole in bewilderment and as if he can't believe it.

"She was brought back here and is now with the Silent Sisters," he adds, "She had this with her, as well as the dagger."

He tells him to then drop in front of him on the table apparently a letter, instantly Aemond's gaze hardening and refusing to believe that you, his Y/N, is dead.

"No. It's not her," he says firmly, "Y/N is not dead."

Cole watches him with pity, lowering his gaze for a moment.

"Yes it is her, my prince," he assures him gently, as Aemond looks at him completely serious and on the verge of losing control, "I'm very sorry."

Aemond feels as if he is floating, his whole body tense and his mind refusing again and again to believe his words, telling himself that it is impossible, that you couldn't have abandoned him like that, that you have always been with him, by his side, since he was a child.

He denies, feeling how his heart begins to beat strongly, besides starting to feel that sharp pain all over his chest, tensing more, feeling as if he were drowning and short of breath, besides an emptiness, something missing.

He hardens his gaze and tightens his lips, feeling a huge lump in his throat and a discomfort all over his stomach, as if he feels like he is about to throw up, losing strength.

It just can't be.

No.

That's all Aemond thinks, incredulous, in denial and feeling all his palpitations getting stronger, the whole world crashing down on him, despairing and feeling completely dazed.

It is not until some time later that Aemond, with his hard look and tight lips, orders Cole coldly to leave the room, to which the knight obeys, not really wanting to leave him alone, only to stand right at the doors once he closes them, being alert.

And a few moments later, Criston Cole hears how Aemond finally reacts and starts breaking everything in the room, listening to his screams of rage, he even breaks and curses that letter you had with you when you were found, because now he understands why you did what you did.

This is the first and last time I will respond to one of your letters, Y/N. But first I want you to understand that I don't want you to write to me ever again.

You have brought shame to our entire family name, you have brought shame to me, destroying the few things I built so that we could afford a life. After all I did for you, you decided to turn your back on me and give yourself away like a common whore to a prince, allowing him to ruin and disgrace you.

You are not my daughter, you are not that woman I cared for and raised, because if you had been, you would not have allowed any of this. And yet you expect me to forgive you by believing that the prince is going to marry you by the time all this is over?

The news has reached here about how the prince has taken another mistress, a witch, so you are a complete fool to believe that he cares about you and will marry you. Open your eyes at once and understand that you are nothing more than just a desire, a whim, a woman to warm his bed, becoming his whore and nothing more, which is all you will be useful to him.

You have not only embarrassed and disappointed me, but also your mother, because believe me Y/N she would be very disappointed in you. Don't write to me again and don't look for me when he leaves you and you have nowhere to go, you are just a naive fool who got carried away by the whims of a man, believing his lies.

I truly don't recognize you and want absolutely nothing to do with you, so as I told you, don't ever write and look for me again.

These same words are the ones you had read when they brought you your tray with breakfast.

You definitely not expect that your father would truly respond as you decided to send him a letter hoping he would forgive you by explaining the whole situation, why you left with Aemond and what would happen when the war was over.

You did everything in secret and with Ellya's help, fearing that Aemond would find out but fortunately that didn't happen, until you fortunately received your father's reply.

However, you did not expect such words from him.

Reading it all, with your mind still fresh from what happened with those assassins, Aemond and Alys, you now really understood what you mean in Aemond's life…. nothing.

Your father's words broke you completely, realizing that he is right.

You also understand that you have no family anymore and that you are completely alone in all this, that your father hates you for what you did and thinking about your mother too, how terribly disappointed she would be in you.

You understood that even if you stay by Aemond's side, you are only his whore and that is how everyone recognizes you now, Prince Aemond's whore.

You understood that even he could get bored of you at any moment and take Alys permanent, that made it clear to you the moment he chose her over you with the assassins, because you are of no other use to him, you can't see the future and help him in matters of war.

You are simply of no use to him, other than to warm his bed.

And you don't want to live like that, where at any moment Aemond leaves you unexpectedly, having no one else, nowhere to go, realizing that you yourself ruined your life for a man who doesn't even care about you and doesn't love you.

With your heart in a fist, sadness completely invading you and the realization getting harder by the second, the moment you found out that Aemond had left Harrenhal to attack an army of the blacks, you decided to escape.

You took a dagger from the kitchens without anyone seeing you, you passed the guards unnoticed and you walked away until you reached that lake, with tears in your eyes and feeling completely alone and hopeless.

The memory of Aemond choosing her over and over again, the letter from your father and how you ruined your life by making the wrong choices, did not leave you alone at all times and you decided to slit your wrists.

All alone, taking a seat on the ground, near the trees with bushes and the beautiful lake in front of you.

And with the view of the dusk, you let yourself go completely with blood dripping down your hands, staining your dress and tears streaming down your cheeks.

It wasn't so painful even though you felt completely alone, starting to feel very weak and disoriented, breathing hard and waiting for the Stranger to take you away.

That last memory of the world comforted you and taking your last breath, you closed your eyes and thought of Aemond. Even though he did not love you back, you truly loved him until the day you died.

And you left, not really wanting to leave, but being necessary.

Now Aemond finds himself watching you at the table in one of the large unoccupied rooms of Harrenhal Castle.

Earlier the Silent Sisters were about to begin their work with you, only to be interrupted by him and asked for a moment, where he had heard before entering how one of them had said in a low whisper; "Poor child…she died alone."

He continues to feel that sharp pain in his chest, all hard stare and tight lips, barely processing that this is really you.

Your eyes are closed, your whole face in a slight expression of pain, still looking completely serene and still, your skin pale and without color… without life, still wearing your dress, stained with dried blood.

Aemond clenches his jaw and gathers courage to look at your arms, all the way to your wrists, where he sees the deep cuts perfectly, feeling that pain all over his body again.

Then he dares to raise one of his hands and delicately touch your cheek, almost with fear, instantly not feeling that warm and soft touch from you.

When the first tear falls on his right cheek.

Just at that moment alone, Aemond realizes all the damage he did to you, understanding that you are dead because of him, because of the decisions he made, because of the way he treated you, because of Alys, because of everything, leaning towards you and holding you in his arms.

It's not just the feeling of loss, he's also furious with himself and your father for that letter, asking you in low whispers to please wake up, only to see your eyes closed again… forever.

He made you a promise and was always willing to keep it, yet he never thought about your feelings, never really cared about you, because his problem has always been that he thought he would always have you by his side and that you would never leave him.

Even choosing duty, the crown, his family, you were always with him and that kept him confident, until you couldn't anymore.

Until just then Aemond realizes the terrible decisions he made, regretting over and over again, wanting to tell you that nothing of what your father told you is true, that he does care about you, that you are important to him.

However, he never proved it to you, not in the way that was right, always treating you as his possession, choosing others over you, because he always thought he would have you.

He didn't know you were suffering so much and now… because of him you are dead.

Aemond doesn't know how long he lasted that way with you, holding you in his arms, wanting to feel that warmth and comfort you always gave him, but instead you were just a cold and lifeless dead body.

Criston Cole is the one who convinces him to leave you in peace so that the Silent Sisters can finish their work with you, leaving him no choice.

Then, before nightfall, Aemond gives the order to Vhagar to burn your body, not caring that this is a Targaryen tradition, only he and Cole being present, this being the least he can do for you.

And the last.

"You knew, didn't you?"

Alys Rivers, the witch of Harrenhal, raises her gaze and observes the figure of Aemond in the doorway of her chamber, watching her attentively, without much emotion on his face, but with a cold and distant look, catching the woman's attention, who frowns and adopts her posture willing and seductive at the same time.

"What do you mean, my prince?"

She asks him with her attractive tone, the one that always has an effect on men and also on him, only that this time no anymore.

"You knew about the ambush… and you didn't tell me anything," he tells her with a deadly tone, "Because you knew what would happen, you knew that I would choose you and not her… sending her to her death."

Alys is confused, not understanding the prince's behavior, when he has always been so responsive to her, continuing her seduction.

"You know that I have always kept my word, my prince," she says slowly approaching towards him, "I have told you every single one of all my visions. But in this case, I saw nothing about the ambush."

In an instant, Aemond shortens the little distance between them, unexpectedly for Alys holding her firmly and tightly by her neck in a threatening manner, while Alys opens her eyes wide in disbelief and horror as he begins to choke her, everything about him emanating fury.

She immediately brings her hands to his, trying to stop him, watching him in fright, as Aemond watches her like a mad man, demanding answers, his eye red and swollen, his pupil dilated and all the pain in his gaze.

"You knew about the ambush, you knew what would happen and that's why you didn't tell me anything," he repeats to her in a deadly tone, "All to get her out of your way, isn't it?"

Alys squirms and gasps for air, watching him in complete terror, beating her hands and chest desperately.

"N-no," she says as best she can, needing air.

"Don't lie to me!" he exclaims unexpectedly, furious.

Alys coughs, tears beginning to spill from her eyes, crying, as Aemond watches her with as much hatred as possible, completely disgusted, to finally have enough and let her go, instantly her falling tactlessly to the ground, gasping for air, coughing and with all the fear invading her body.

Aemond thinks of course she knew, again feeling the urge to cry, but completely resisting, he turns around and walks out of the chamber, completely exhausted, furious and hurting, no strength left.

The next morning, Aemond orders the death of the witch of Harrenhal, being beheaded in an instant for carrying out the prince's order, to continue leading his side of the war… with the difference that nothing is the same anymore.

Aemond Targaryen was always haunted by all the ghosts of Harrenhal, especially you. Every day he woke up and you were no longer by his side, it was complete torture.

He couldn't sleep, had very little appetite and began to lose the war slowly.

From the beginning he always chose the crown over you, but in the end, it wasn't worth it at all. Aemond lost himself, all the time thinking about you, where he also lost his sister, his brothers, his grandfather and all those sacrifices being in vain.

Nothing he did was worth it, not even Alys, because he lost you and he also lost the war, with nothing left of him or his family.

And all for what?

For the crown.

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#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

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