#tw: mentioned/implied incest | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

monstrouslyobsessed · 7 months ago

Note

note: i can't stop thinking about this. hope you're okay with me doing a snippet! it's a little bit different than i initially intended, but…well, this is more of a possible backstory that led up to the whole Nibelheim aftermath the lovely ashe implied above, feel free to take away or add on to this! <3 yeah its a bit messy but i havent really written anything in ages so....i weep for my soul. hope yall enjoyed anyway tho!!!

cws: reader is gn and is on the older side (apx. late 30s to 40s). they currently have their youngest as toddler-aged. the reader is implied to have multiple children with their spouse. the said spouse has no mentioned pronoun. stalking. reader's pov, isn't 100% a reliable narrator. have multiple minor flashbacks. implied pseudo incestual feelings on Sephiroth's part (between the lines) and abuses (from others, on Sephiroth and a little bit on reader). huge 18+ years age gap. general yandere themes. not beta edited. long post under the cut. SFW.

Something was wrong.

You paused at the sudden itch in the nape of your neck, interrupting the conversation you were having with your longtime spouse. The toddler squirmed in your arms, unsettled by your silence. Or perhaps your daughter sensed something was off, too.

You weren't sure.

"—?" your partner's voice brought you out of your worried trance, the sound of your name a soothing balm to your nerves.

"—aaaa!" The itching stopped as soon as your daughter squealed, tugging at the collar of your shirt for your attention.

You shook your head with a weak chuckle, managing to sneak a scratch through your hair. As you plied your child's hand loose from your shirt. "I'm fine. Just thought of something silly." you reassured them, retaining the urge to choke from the baby's annoyed pulling.

"Silly?" your partner's brow raised high, not oblivious to the slight shift in your seat. "Wanna share what's silly to you?"

You waved them off, already chuckling. "It's just something I'll worry about later." Leaning against the back of your cushioned seat, you bounced your thigh to entertain your baby and released a long sigh. "It's really nice to be home after so long though, so it'll take me a minute to turn off the work mode out of my brain."

You were quiet for a moment, pondering. Regretting.

“I’m going to miss the kid,” you admitted—though you couldn’t say who, because of the strict NDAs you’d signed over 18 years ago. All your partner knew was that it was some rich kid you had been nannying since near birth—and for their and your family’s sake, it was better that everyone stayed in the dark. You brought home extremely good money, and that was enough to abate most questions.

None of them needed to know that you were the personal caretaker of the ShinRa's most invested experiment to date: Sephiroth. You also aided the company in raising a few other children—but Sephiroth had been your main charge for nearly two decades. He was both the easiest—and the most difficult.

Although he was mostly quiet from birth, he still had frequent episodes. Some were worse than others, but you took it all in your stride; he was a lonely kid with no other parent but you. For a decade you had been his whole world—and you were already exhausted halfway in. While he had many teachers for his education, it was part of your duties to ensure that he remembered his lessons and to fill his emotional needs.

You quietened again, nuzzling into your partner's hair as memories and regrets flooded your mind.

You were barely 18 yourself when you applied for a nanny job—it was just a slight notice pinned to a bulletin board in a grocery store in the small town where you grew up. You were good with children, and it seemed promising enough, especially with the scarily high salary.

In hindsight, the triple-digits hourly wage should have been the first red flag—but you were just a naïve runt then, trying to spread your wings for the first time and fly away from the nest. You remembered how alarmed you were when a few men in black suits showed up on your doorstep and all but marched you away from your confused parents and stuffed you into an extravagant vehicle (it was luxurious for its time and much sought after now, but you remembered hating its stiffness, unable to lean back properly without feeling crunched).

Gods, you could laugh looking back now, but you were scared stiff and near tears when they drove you a few hours away to the damn Midgar. It was practically a kidnapping, as none of these gentlemen would spare a single detail to you. Their lips were sealed shut and you quickly learned to shut up too, when one of them flashed you their congealed gun under their jacket out of annoyance.

It was impressive that you hadn't screamed in terror even once the entire duration there. On arrival, you vividly remembered collapsing in your chair when the President (he was a spindly man back then, but by the Planet, he was so greasy to begin with) declared that you had been hired on the spot to look after the most important kid in the world. Your self-control—or perhaps, self-preservation impressed even you.

Now, how were you supposed to know that tiny piece of paper was from the ShinRa, one of the biggest conglomerates in the world?

If you'd known then, you might have refused to even look at it.

Admittedly, you would still bite the hook, regardless. It was hard to turn down so many numbers in that dollar sign. You could afford to pay off your parents' debts and even take them on that vacation in the Costa Del Sol you had promised them years before with the salary they offered alone—nevermind the annual bonus. A few NDAs and an 18-year contact later, the President sent you on your way to care for this strange-looking kid who slept in the coldest lab you've ever been in.

A heavy burden of responsibility pushed upon a barely-adult like you…

It was a daunting experience, but not one you'd ever say you regretted. When you first laid your eyes on Sephiroth, he was a tiny, writhing thing, crying out for any physical contact he was constantly denied from. Something that no baby should ever be rejected from (especially when it could even lead to their death!)—but none, save you, had been willing to give him an ounce of love.

You never understood why everyone else feared him. He was a bit strange looking, sure, with snow-white hair and alien green eyes, but to you, he was still just a baby in need. So you took him in and loved him as if he was your own child. He was so, so, so…

vibrantly responsive to every single physical affection you gave him.

He was so hungry even for a simple hug, a few kind words, a gentle kiss, a smile—when he learned to walk he was like a duckling, following you everywhere you went. You woke up early for him, fixed his food under the strict regiment (you tried your best to make everything consumable and unique, and fought tirelessly with the authorities to expose him to more variety; using arguments to avoid developing allergies had been your key tactic), played games with him, changed his diapers—you'd done everything for him, and he'd mirrored your every action and even your slightest habit.

He was obsessed—but you thought that was normal for his age. All the children you knew had declared their desire to marry their parents, for their parents had been their whole world. He’d grow out of it, eventually.

(You still think so, even though his affections toward you have waned. But, the way his searing jade-green eyes would sometimes look at you unnerves you to this day.)

Your heart ached for him and the life he would soon lead. Sephiroth was a lab child from birth, poked and prodded with countless needles, and you were just…an ordinary citizen who knew how to handle children. You had no experience with weapons or magical tools like Materias, nor did you have any potential with them. You were helpless and you couldn't even save him from his inevitable fate as the world's favorite labrat.

All you could do was to comfort him and be there for him.

You endured even through his most dangerous meltdown, sporting several broken bones and injuries, until he grew old enough to realize the damage he was doing to you and learned to retain his strengths. Despite his best efforts and apologies, the scores of scars on your skin continued to grow. It was your tenacity and Sephiroth's attachment to you that made your superiors think twice about letting you go before your contract was up. Many others would've left the first time they'd gotten a broken arm from handling kids like Sephiroth.

You were probably incredibly stupid, but the last thing you wanted to do was to break that lonely kid's shattered heart any further.

("Don't ever leave me!" he would often scream, his little hands scratching into yours, as you struggled to contain him—to hug him. "You're not leaving me! No!")

When ShinRa finally decided it was time to start grooming Sephiroth as their strongest SOLDIER at the age of 7, you could breathe a little easier. You had a bit more free time—and soon met the love of your life in a chance encounter at your favorite cafe. It was a quick lunch break, and you were desperate for a breath of fresh air from the stuffy room you shared with Sephiroth and your other duties of stockpiling lessons from his teachers.

If you hadn't applied for that job posting, you would never have met your beloved spouse.

Everything in your life had led you here, to this house and this place. With a family. A full home and a full heart—all because of Sephiroth, and you owed him a life of gratitude.

If it wasn't for him, you probably wouldn't be where you were now.

("If it wasn't for you…" Sephiroth trailed off, leaving you completely confusion as of why he said anything at all. He was barely a teenager.)

It was a shame that it was considered a fireable offense if you shared your love life with Sephiroth. He might have loved your partner too, maybe. It was even more of a shame that you couldn't brag about how wonderful your silver-haired child was with your spouse, but you quickly learned to separate your work from your personal life. Hiding that you'd had a family of your own from him was a feat that deserved a gold medal for best lying.

Although it had helped when Sephiroth himself had to be taken away for months at a time for rigorous training. He had no idea that you even had a life outside of him, just a few basic facts that you still had a living set of parents (which he only learned because it was a lesson regarding a common family hierarchy) and that you had some bills to pay (it was a math lesson, though he did inquire about it years later when he became a teenager seeing the discrepancies between your living with him when there were no bills and your initial comments).

("…you looked different." Sephiroth eyed you critically. Knowing better than to divulge details of how exhausting having a baby was, you laughed at his unsolicited comment. "You think so? Maybe I've kept myself a little too busy in your absence. So! How was your training?" He never really believed you, of course, but accepted with a nod).

Nothing that would have truly upset your superiors beyond some ruffled feathers—some personal facts had been inevitable in your 18 years of servitude to this special child. The rest of your private life, however, had stayed a secret from him. No parent should have felt so guilty withholding such truths from other children they'd loved so dearly—but you'd always known that you were only meant to be temporary in Sephiroth's life. Knowing that it was but a contracted lie helped quieten the guilt a little.

But, you still had your regrets and plenty of what-ifs.

("…If I took you away, where would you want to be?" You asked one day. Sephiroth paused in his eating, a bit of spicy noodles dangling from his chopsticks. He barely blinked as his answer came quickly. "As long as I'm with you, I'd be…content." You thought how strange his answer was and decided not to ask him any more questions like that. You refused to admit to yourself how much he annoyed you sometimes).

You loved him as your own, and the number of times you found yourself wishing you could spirit him away to join your family as the oldest brother was heartbreaking. Your children would've loved him—looked up to him and demanded for his affection in return. It hurt so much to leave him in the dark—

and it was still so painful that you had to leave him so soon, so quickly, without another word.

("I promise, you'll see me again tomorrow." You tried to reassure him, finding it difficult to endure his angry glare—and his growing fingers slicing through your arms. "I know you don't like all this poking, but I'll be right here when you wake up." At that, he relented with a sharp line of his tiny lips and a quiet demand. "…You promise?" "Yes. I'll never leave you alone, okay?" His thin fingers were draped in red as he released you with a firm nod. "Okay." You dreaded the day when you would have to break your promise a decade later, but for now, you vowed to keep your words as long as you could.)

In the blink of an eye, he had gone from a waddling duckling, attentive to your gentle love and kind words, to an independent adult chasing his own dreams completely free of your involvement. Whatever dream he may have, you'd happily support—but with a painful sigh, it would have to be from a distance.

You were already letting him go—he already had years ago, you felt.

("…You're not leaving me." You thought you heard him saying one day, just a few days shy of his sixteenth birthday. You pivoted and blinked at the frighteningly tall male, "—? Did you say something, Sephiroth?" He never replied, only breezed past you.)

Despite his curious inquiries and his insistence on keeping you by his side, the two of you barely saw each other.

Even on his 18th birthday, you only saw him in passing—barely long enough to hand over his favorite homemade sweet he'd always loved since his childhood. Sephiroth was never a materialistic individual, and while he did have a few prized possessions, they were few and far between. Truthfully, you blamed the higher-ups for disposing nearly of all of his beloved treasures from behind his back and yours.

("…Where are our drawings?" Sephiroth whispered in dismay at the sight of the bare surface of the fridge. "We worked so hard on them…" "Such unnecessary trinkets. They've been disposed of," a man in a white jacket said coolly. He'd left before you could even think about suckerpunching his creepily long face. "Oh." The boy never looked so small before in your eyes and he felt smaller in your arms.)

It was no wonder that the kid was so…broken.

Despite all of your effort to love him, it hadn't been enough to protect him from the cruelty of others and of the world itself. Behind the closed doors, countless tears had been shed—at least until they punished the crying out of him and you never saw him cry again. Instead, a mask of aloofness replaced his tears—and you were one of the few privileged to see him smile or frown, no matter how slight his expression.

You loved him dearly, enough, you hoped, to replace his missing mother.

("I think you're a far better parent than my mother ever was." Sephiroth concluded one day. He was several inches taller than you, but still so spindly, so skinny, even for a SOLDIER in training. You took it as a compliment and smiled at his comment. "You think so?" "Maybe even better." The glow in his eyes, though, had unsettled you.)

But you too will disappear—

you already had

—and it hurts more than you would ever admit.

With a pained grimace, you looked at your cooing daughter, now distracted by the cartoon on the expensive television. Absently, you ran your fingers through her fine hair, toying with the strands. A habit you'd developed to comfort Sephiroth without arousing the ire of your ever-watchful superiors.

You'd braid his growing hair, using the excuse that it was unruly from his training. That was until one of his terrible teachers cut it off as a punishment for his supposed disobedience or another. It took years for his hair to grow back—only for the same teacher to repeat the same punishment.

It was devastating not to be able to sneak your loving words to him—and he was hurt too, hiding his pain behind his long bangs.

("Oh, your beautiful hair…" It hurt to even hold a pair of scissors, your hands shaking as you fought both the growing anger and the tears from spilling forth. It was a struggle trying to even out his cut, his split strands feeling wrong through your fingers. Sephiroth stiffened, the leathers of his gloves pulled taut in his hands, and looked over his shoulder at you in wonder. "You…like my hair?" You nodded with a choked smile. "Long hair suits you well." "I…see. I'll remember that. Thank you.")

To imagine that the very cake you'd made was the very last gift you could've given to him…

You fought back a wince of pain from appearing on your face in front of your daughter's wide-eyed curiosity.

"—aaaa?" She poked at your plunging lips.

You laughed, though your voice was breathy and devoid of your usual warmth, and planted a kiss on her forehead, "I'm fine, little love. Oh," you pretended to see a funny clip of her cartoon of a black moogle character dashing away from the group of colorfully dressed heroes, "No! Noogle will escape the Justice Moogs again!"

At that, your daughter pivoted to her show with a gasp of outrage.

The slight sound of relief, mixed with a little sadness, left your chest as you sank against your spouse's shoulder, weary with exhaustion and melancholy. What else could you have done for that boy?

You were grateful to be able to give him anything at all for his birthday. The way he held it, as if it were gold, was the most sentimental look you'd ever seen from him. It was a welcome—and the most painful, break from the cold, formal expression he'd often give you before he was called away to some formal gathering to congratulate him on his entry into his adulthood. An event to which you were never invited.

—not that you were ever invited to many, if any, of the events surrounding his growth.

("Why didn't you come to the party?" Sephiroth refused to look at you, though he never fought your touches as you worked to undo his suffocating jacket. He was getting taller again, you wondered absently, as you tugged at the fabric. When you stalled too long to answer his question, you caught his exasperated breath and sighed. "I was never invited, Sephiroth." They never told you to lie about not being invited. "…That's ridiculous." "It is what it is." Noticing the stiffness in his shoulders, you hastened to reassure him, "If it helps, I don't care for these stuffy events. Too judgmental for my taste." His hissing annoyance creased and he looked at you again. With a tilt of his head, Sephiroth accepted your answer with a comment: "Well, I suppose that's better—I wouldn't want to share you anyway.)

Still, you wished you could've hugged him one last time before erasing all traces of your existence from his life, as ordered by his superiors. The only thing you'd managed to smuggle home was a photograph you'd taken of him singing a happy birthday song over a simple cake when he turned 5. It was the only thing you had left of him, of the fact that you'd loved him from birth—and for legal reasons you even had to hide that like an ugly secret from your spouse.

You weren't even allowed to say a goodbye.

Gods, you wanted to cry.

You had mastered the art of stoicism years ago from others for Sephiroth's sake—but your spouse had always been uncannily sharp with you.

"It's okay to miss your kid," came your partner's soft voice. Their head rested heavier on yours, as they continued, "it's pretty normal, I think—you practically raised them."

They truly had no idea how much of a hand you had in raising Sephiroth.

("…What does 'pride and joy' mean anyway?" Sephiroth kicked his feet off his still swing. You halted your swing, slid your feet through the artificial mulch, and allowed his question to sink into your ears. "Pride and joy…? Was that from the book you're reading now?" At his nod, you hummed with a thoughtful look on your face. Clapping your hands on your thighs, you patiently explained, "Well, it's something—or even someone that brings you a great deal of happiness. You'd feel very proud and really appreciated into having it with you." "…Do you have a 'pride and joy' then?" Sephiroth's steady eyes looked expectant and his grip on the ropes tightened. You grinned, "Yes. You.")

"That I did." you murmured, rubbing a circle on your little girl's back, as you watched the characters finally trap the main villain. "They don't need me anymore, so it's okay. They'll be fine no matter what they do. Besides," a smile curled your lips, "I'm needed elsewhere now."

As soon as the last word left your tongue, a faint rustle came from outside the window. You blinked, diverting your attention and missing the first few words out of your better half's mouth, oblivious to your paranoia from their distraction to your daughter's grumbling complaint about the ending of her episode.

The odd itch, once a faint shadow of discomfort, niggled from the back of your brain.

"—ly," the vibration rumbled through your spouse's body as they giggled and turned their attention back to you. Their laugh faded upon seeing your expression, "What's up?"

It was too brief for you to see, too fast that it was nothing but a blur, but you could've sworn that the shadow was distinctly humanoid. Quickly, you passed your daughter off to your spouse and hurried off the couch, grabbing the small gun from behind a bookcase on the way to the door. Plopping your gun against your wrist, deftly pushing in new bullets in the barrels, you steeled yourself with a grit of your teeth.

You slammed the door open.

Nothing. You searched the perimeter, ears tuned to the silence.

Had it been your imagination?

Once again, you scoured throughout your empty backyard.

Again, you were met with nothing.

Relaxing your grip, you neared the window of where you saw the strange shadow.

A patch of earth was trampled, the green blades of grass flattened with no obvious footprints, and the bush bent and torn. The back of your neck grew stiff. It was not your imagination.

Someone was there, watching you and your family.

And there were stripes in the shape of fingers dug through the windowsills.

A sense of dread loomed in your mind.

"Dear?" your spouse slowly emerged from the door.

For reasons beyond your understanding, you turned back with a smile and lied through your teeth, "It's nothing."

Your stomach curdled with the same discomfort you'd experienced for time and time again with Sephiroth.

—end

(edited as oh nov 17 2024 for gendered language, i was p tired when i last proofread. sorry!)

I propose an idea. Sephiroth, barely turned adult, snuck out from his tightly secured home to find his caretaker (his "parental"/"mother" figure) he'd been obsessed with for years, maybe planning an 'ambush'? and learned that they were with a partner he didn't know about. Might've even had a family with them!

Boy, he'd be furious.

Yes! The "betrayal" (in his eyes) would be their ultimate sin. How could they? To built up such relationship with Sephiroth, ever since he was a mere boy. His world shatters when this revelation comes out of the left field. And it's not like they talked much about their life outside of him whenever they were on their job. They were solely focused on him. Making sure he got the proper nurture, care and affection one would need growing up. Technically, they did everything right.

Maybe too "right". Because now, Sephiroth felt like they were bound to him and him alone. And it should stay that way. His struggle to block out the dark thoughts only grew over time. Those Jenova instincts clawing at his mind to force him to acknowledge his dominance over them. How easy it could be. But he had to hold himself back. Keep the mask on for a bit longer so his perfect plan to get what he wants will come to fruition.

And his dear caretaker sensed there was something off about Sephiroth. How every affectionate touch they normally shared (in privacy) lingers a bit longer. And the subtle hesitancy in his body language whenever Sephiroth forces himself to pull away. And there's that slight dark shift in his pupils whenever someone steals their attention from him. They've brush it off, attributing to Sephiroth being in his typical grouchy mood.

They just have no idea of what's to come when they go to Nibelheim with Sephiroth...

91 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 3 days ago

Text

Title: The Fight Drive.

Pairing: Yandere!BatFam x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 2k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Mentions of Kidnapping + Prolonged Captivity, Mentions of Past Assault, Sleep Deprivation, Implied Food + Water Deprivation, Obsessive Behavior, Non-Graphic Violence, and Gratuitous Pseudo-Incest. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Finale]

On your way out, you stole Jason’s bike for good measure. You’d never been on a motorcycle without him before, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to care about crashing, and you’d picked up a few things in those long, boring days you were forced to pass watching the Wayne family live their short, dangerous lives. Either way, you’d pretty much gotten the hang of it by the time you crossed the state border.

You couldn’t afford to waste time on sleep. Energy drinks and coffee were enough to keep you awake on an empty stomach. You traded the bike for an ancient junker as you passed through Maryland and again in Washington DC, to a woman you met in a diner named Selina. She was laughing as she handed over the keys to a car nicer than you deserved. Exhausted, starving, and paranoid, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to ask what she found so funny.

Keeping track of Bruce wasn’t hard. Even in the most rural areas, tabloids reported sightings of his private jet religiously, and more reputable magazines stolen off convenience store racks kept you updated on his business trips, in-person deals, and charity events. Batman’s activity lulled, growing sporadic as a laundry list of his b-rated sidekicks attempted to fill the void. You’d give it about a month, maybe two before Gotham devolved violently enough for him to call off the search. It left a bitter taste in your mouth – knowing how willing he was to put the safety of his city aside when it was his peace of mind in danger.

The trip took longer than it had to, mostly because of your stubborn refusal to use any road they so much as might be able to track you on. You spent Jason’s money on gas when you could, food when you had to, and motels when your body threatened to break down if not properly rested. The only time you stopped for longer than a few minutes, it was in a by-the-hour inn on the outskirts of a larger city. You made the mistake of using your real name, of forgetting to barricade your door before collapsing into the creaking, yellowed mattress.

By the time you rolled over, Cassandra was perched on the foot of your bed.

You managed to pretend you were asleep for all of a second before Cassandra turned her head a little too quickly, a little too smoothly, and you were falling out of bed, scrambling to the far wall just to put that much more distance between you and her.

Like an idiot, you’d left your gun in your car. Defenseless and paralyzed, it was all you could do to meet her eyes as she stared you down.

“Is Bruce—”

“In Montreal. Tim thought you might try to cross the border.” Her tone was impassive, and the darkness hid most of her expression. She’d made it here before sunrise, meaning it was still the best time of day to drag someone unwilling back to somewhere they didn’t want to be. “Not happy. Jason is…”

She trailed off. You tried to fill in the gaps. “Jason is alive?”

The beat of silence that followed made it clear that wouldn’t have been her choice of words. Still, she nodded. “Alive. Angry. Dick, too.”

Your mind was a haven for contradictory thoughts. That was terrible. That was great. The guilt was practically eating you alive. You hope they both spent the rest of their lives as miserable as they made you.

“Do you hate us?”

Last time she’d asked, Stephanie had been there to answer for you, to smooth over any worries with chirped platitudes and easy humor. Now, the question hung in the air. You let your gaze fall to the ground.

“I can’t go back.” Your voice sounded hollow. “I can’t be forced to do something that’ll break me, again and again. I won’t let myself live like that.”

Cassandra hummed. You heard the mattress creak, her feet pad against the carpeted floor. “You should leave. Dick will be here in…” She paused. “Soon. He’ll be here soon.”

You didn’t bother responding. It took you long, precious second to skirt around the edges of the room, careful never to get within arm’s reach of her. You were behind the wheel before the adrenaline faded. Cassandra watched from the doorway, her eyes locked on your vehicle until you were too far to track.

You arrived in Kanas not long after. The farmhouse wasn’t hard to find, if a little out of your way. You only had to knock twice before a tall man opened the door, his glasses low on the bridge of his nose.

He smiled when he saw you – that softened, sympathetic type of smile you might pull out when you find an abandoned kitten or a stray dog. You could understand why. You looked like shit. The motel room had been your last stop. That was two days ago, now.

“Sorry to bother you,” you offered, clinging to your last few scraps of decency. “Are you Superman?”

“Clark,” he corrected hastily. Didn’t deny it, though. “And you’re Bruce’s…?”

Your abject horror must’ve been apparent. He rushed to apologize. “Sorry, sorry, I—uh, I recognize your heartbeat. He used to tap it out during League meetings.”

If you’d had anything in your stomach, you might’ve felt sick. “Is your wife home?”

“We were just about to sit down for dinner.” And then, all Southern manners and country charm, “Care to join us?”

You gave yourself thirty minutes. Fifteen to eat, ten to show their youngest son (and, by association, the grumpy teenager pretending not to watch) a magic trick you’d learned in college, and five to pull Lois aside and recite all the Wayne Enterprise passwords, back-doors, and poorly encrypted private forums you knew. You tried to make a hasty escape, but Clark caught you by the shoulder, asked about the rest of your trip, mentioned that their guestroom could use some company. It didn’t seem like he was willing to take no for an answer.

For the first time since leaving Jason’s apartment, you got eight beautiful, heavenly, uninterrupted hours of dreamless sleep. The Kents’ shower was similarly orgasmic, and you savored every second you spent under the scalding hot water, secure in the knowledge that the only door was well and truly locked.

All good things had to come to an end eventually, though. You should’ve known that by now.

Your paradise cracked and broke open the moment you stepped out of the bathroom. Leaning against the bedroom door, jaw set and eyes narrowed, was Dick.

In hindsight, you could only be thankful he was alone.

He was blocking the only exit – obviously, obviously. Screaming never occurred to you. Instead, you lunged for the gun on your bedside table, and he let you, never once moving to get in your way. It was until you had a finger on the trigger that he stepped toward you, closing the distance before you could think to shoot.

“Do it.” A fist curled around the barrel, a tug forward. He pressed the muzzle to his chest, and you felt your hands begin to shake. “You left Jason with lead under his skin. You gave him something to remember you by. Were the rest of us not worth it? Was he the only one you could stand to have thinking about you?”

“I never wanted to hurt anyone.” It was true. You still didn’t, if you were being honest. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life living under the weight of one more thing Bruce and his fucked-up family pushed you to. “Please, let—”

“You think this doesn’t fucking hurt?” He was raising his voice, now. Cassandra was right. You’d never seen him angrier. “We were going to get married, sweetheart. We were going to leave together. Now Bruce doesn’t want us so much as saying your name and you—” He stopped suddenly, shaking his head. “No, no, that’s not your fault. None of this is. You were scared, right? Jason scared you. You felt like it wasn’t safe to wait for me, and—”

“Dick,” you cut in, tone warning. “I left because I had to. And you need to—”

“—take you home, I know.” His hand flexed around your gun. The ghost of a smile passed over his blank expression, but it wasn’t enough to dull his anger. “Where the others can’t bother us. But they’re going to come looking, aren’t they? We’ll need something to keep them away, to show them we’re in love.”

His hand dropped lower, the other darting up. He cupped your hands in his over the grip, hold tight enough to bruise. “Let’s have a—”

There was a blur of movement, then the sound of something blunt hitting something solid. One second, Dick stood in front of you, and the next, he was crumpled on the ground, unconscious and hair matted with blood. The grumpy teenager, Conner, stood in his place, fist still raised just above where Dick’s head would’ve been.

“Sorry about that, ma’am. There’s a change of clothes for you in the kitchen – Lois’ stuff. Clark managed to get the tracker off of your car, too. Along with most of the rear bumper.” His attention fell back to Dick. “What a freak. Want me to…?”

He made a vague gesture, something involving his eyes and Dick’s crotch. You considered it for a second, but shook your head. “No, I just—I just need a couple more days to get where I’m going. Do you think you can keep him here, or… I don’t know, send him in the wrong direction?”

Conner grinned. “Oh, I can make sure he stays put.”

He threw you a two-finger salute, and you returned the gesture. A few miles down the road, you changed into Lois’ hand-me-downs, throwing out the clothes from Bruce’s wardrobe in a gas-station dumpster. You felt lighter, like you’d gotten rid of the last remnants of him. You felt more like yourself.

You felt better.

You didn’t stop again until you reached California. You ditched your car in a public parking lot and spent the rest of Jason’s cash on a train into Gateway City.

The air smelled like rain, salt, and fresh paint. You walked the streets for hours before you found the apartment complex you were looking for, and lingered in the lobby for another forty-five minutes before you saw her – black hair, blue eyes, weathered tan. She looked like she had someplace to be, all neutral focus and quiet intensity, but she paused when she saw you tentatively approaching.

She waited for you to speak, despite how long it took you to swallow your nerves. “Dr. Diana Prince?” She nodded curtly, and you tried not to choke on your own relief. “I’m from Gotham. Wayne Manor, specifically.”

“I know. Kent called ahead.”

How he’d known to, you couldn’t imagine. You’d told him you were going to the North Pole. “I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk. Privately. I have something I’d like to ask you for.”

Something flashed across her expression. Curiosity, maybe. Interest. “It’ll have be quick. I have to be at the docks in a few minutes.”

You couldn’t bite back your smile. “Trying something new?”

“Heading home, actually.” She turned to face you properly. “It’s a quaint little island. They’re very welcoming to travelers, but compared to someplace like Gotham, I’m afraid you won’t find much to do.”

“I think I’ve had enough of Gotham, for a while.” You were beaming, now. You dug your teeth into your cheek, doing your best to keep your cool. “That is, if you’re willing to put up with a guest?”

For the first time, she returned your smile. You did your best to be objective, to be wary, to be careful, but if there were any fangs behind her lips, any desire to make you into anything you weren’t in her eyes, you couldn’t find it.

Honestly, when you looked at her, all you could seem to feel was safe.

“It would be my pleasure.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere dc #dc imagines #dc x reader #dc #dc x you #bruce wayne x reader #yandere bruce wayne #dick grayson x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #jason todd x reader #yandere cassandra cain #cassandra cain x reader

774 notes · View notes

anxiousnerdwritings · 12 days ago

Note

Now I can't help but think about twin!reader saying this to Damian:

"You don't want to be with me, you don't want me to be with someone else… How miserable do I have to be before you're happy?"

TW: Implied incest/sibling complex, slight mentions of bodily harm, yandere themes

Those words would hit Damian so hard, cutting deeper than any blade could manage, and what made it all the worse was how true they were.

He did want to be with his twin, desperately. Damian truly loved them; more than anyone could imagine, and even more than he could ever admit. And for a time he'd convinced himself that it was for the best that they were separated, especially after he came to terms with his feelings. As much as he hated not having his twin by his side, as lonely as it made him deep down to his core, it was better that way. Even if he had to feel this crippling void for the rest of his life, he could take it. That's what he kept telling himself at least. After all it would just be more trouble than it was worth if they were to be together again. Right?? Besides, who knew how long Damian could hold himself together for. Honestly, he wasn't quite sure himself and he detested it. He detested not having control, particularly when it came to having control over himself. And that's exactly what his precious sibling had over him. They had him so wrapped up, tied, and knotted around their finger that even he didn't know what all he could be capable of when it came to them. And the worst part was that they had no idea of just how much power they had over him.

So, yes it was better they stayed apart. For now. But that didn't mean his sibling could just move on without him. They were still his, one way or another, and he wasn't just going to allow someone else to come in and take his place. Just cause he couldn't be by their side didn't mean someone else could. No matter how much it killed him to see his sibling plunging themself deeper into the dark hole they were digging themself with all the different villains and criminals they tried to seek familiarity with, he would rather that then have them living and thriving without him. At least this way they were still bound to be part of each other's lives, even if it meant continuously fighting one another again and again. Damian didn't mind though, in fact it was the complete opposite, he couldn't be more thrilled for all the battle scars his twin dealt him and the new ones to come after. Those were the marks of his beloved sibling and he'd cherish every single last one to no end. If he couldn't have them how he wanted then this would have to be enough.

I can imagine Twin!Reader saying those words to Damian with a completely platonic meaning behind it, while Damian, who is drowning in delusion at this point, takes it in a whole different direction (leading him deeper into the dark abyss of obsession and the pits of hell). Instead he takes it as a veiled "confession" of sorts and it's like something falls into place, something in him just feels right after that. Complete. He takes the "You didn't want to be with me-" part as the Reader implying that they did in fact want to be with him and he runs with it. He's teetering on the edge of euphoria, not fully allowing himself to fall into the sweet depths of it just yet but enough to feel light headed and fuzzy all over, believing that this was the Reader's way of conveying how similarly they feel about him too. How they really feel. Damian's not too far gone yet to know that they don't mean it quite to the same lengths as he does but it's something, even if just a crumb, and that's better than nothing. To him, it's everything. You want to be with him. You want to be together too. Just like the two of you were always meant to be.

#anxious answers #yandere damian wayne #yandere dc #yandere dc concept #yandere concept

221 notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Curiosities

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Overwhelmed and distraught by his duties and the death of his child, King Aegon decides to indulge in his favorite pastime: visiting the Street of Silk. However, he decides this time, he wants to seek comfort in the one person he's always been curious about.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical GoT warnings, Aegon being Aegon, mentions/implications of child exploitation, mentions of teen-adult relationships, mentions of Targcest/incest, death of a child, sexual content dontttlookatme, (Y/N)/Reader is a brothel worker, potential spoilers for S2, mentioned/implied homophobia (the Faith)

Aegon is a pathetic wet cat of a man (derogatory) but Tom is so pretty

~~~

Aegon hardly remembered the first time he'd visited a brothel.

Perhaps it was the mixture of drinks in his system preventing him from recalling the first time he'd stepped foot in a brothel. He'd been a teenager, he knew that much, and he'd likely paid for the prettiest woman in there. He'd had enough experience messing with the maids around the castle to know what to do and he'd ensured to pay well for the service. But despite not recalling the act itself or even the woman he'd done it with, he vividly recalled the worker who'd caught his eye the second visit.

It'd been a week or so after the first visit and he'd gone in sober, willing to drink whatever the brothel had in stock until he passed out or was kicked out. He sauntered in with his typical confidence. He was a prince; everyone wanted a taste of him. The other customers in the brothel regarded him with smug smirks and nods of acknowledgment, to which he returned with the same smugness. He'd taken a seat at one of the tables and savored the way workers glided toward him in revealing clothing - or no clothing at all - with coy smiles and flirty coos. His eyes, however, failed to lock on the women flocking to him.

Across the way, he noticed one of the rooms with the curtains drawn back by a few inches, giving view to the worker and customer inside. A boy around his age, perhaps a year or two older, sat on the bed with his rope drawn back and hanging loosely from his shoulders. A woman had her head on his chest, her eyes shut tight and cheeks stained with tears while her red-colored lips formed words.

The sight would've made him laugh, it was utterly pathetic for a grown woman to cry on the chest of a boy, but his heart lurched longingly when the boy raked his fingers through her hair and gently rocked her. The act looked so... sweet.

"Who is that?" Aegon questioned one of the women settled at his side, hardly paying any mind to the soft stroking of his chest. She tilted her head over her shoulder, searching for what'd caught his attention before she spotted the two. She gave a soft hum and looked back at him, her lips delicately dragging over his cheek and stopping at his ear.

"That would be (Y/N)," She told him softly, her voice velvety. Her long lashes tickled his skin. "Poor Nora lost her husband to a horrible fever not long ago, My Prince. I hear he looked like (Y/N) in his youth. She seeks comfort, not pleasure."

"I see," Aegon murmured and finally took a swing of the wine offered to him, waiting for it to settle into his veins before he gave in to the ladies around him. His eyes continued to drag toward (Y/N) throughout his stay.

Men in brothels were no surprise, not to frequent customers, at least. Some enjoyed the company of men without facing scrutiny, some needed the money, and others were simply raised in the brothel. Throughout his visits to the brothel, Aegon learned it'd been the latter for (Y/N); a boy born in a brothel who simply never left. He found his curiosity spiked with each visit, each time he caught sight of him serving wine or slipping behind the curtain to entertain someone new.

Aegon never approached. It was completely new territory, territory he'd been told by septas and maesters he should never enter.

It'd only been when his little son and heir died at the order of his older half-sister that he decided he couldn't give a rat's ass about what the Seven thought of him. They'd never given him a time of day, even as the King of Westeros, so why should he care? His son was dead, his sister-wife was a mess, and the Council acted as if it were all a mere inconvenience.

When he staggered into the brothel that night, everyone stopped their doings to stare at him wide-eyed and silent. Each of them bowed, whether dipping their heads or bending at the waist and watched him as if waiting for him to crack. Aegon hated it. He hated how everyone seemingly viewed him as weak. He was the King, for fuck's sake! The wine and ale swimming through his veins made his senses and emotions heighten, forcing tears to spring to his eyes.

"Drinks on me!" He hollered into the room, and the crowd within erupted in cheers and whoops, the energy returning to the room tenfold. A laugh tumbled out of his lips and his shoulders straightened, soaking in the gleeful looks and nods sent his way. They loved him now, even if they believed him to be a usurper or not. They loved him.

Aegon took a goblet from a table and drank its contents, feeling the liquid burn his throat and send a shudder up his spine. He set the goblet aside and wiped his lips with the sleeve of his shirt, vibrant eyes searching the room until they spotted the object of his desire. He made a beeline for him, ignoring the ladies who attempted to catch his eye until he stopped by him and grasped his arm a tad roughly.

"Your Grace?" (Y/N) stumbled slightly with the tug, his grip on the pitcher tightening to avoid spilling any wine. He stared at him, brows lifting and eyes blinking owlishly. Aegon had never seen him up close before, and regret settled in his belly at the realization. What a fool he'd been, letting time pass him by.

"You're mine for the night," Aegon told him, taking the pitcher from his hands and setting it down at the table he'd been serving. The men there shifted uncomfortably under Aegon's stare, none of them uttering a single word of protest and instead turning their attention onto the other workers around.

Brothels had unspoken rules. Everything that happened in a brothel, stayed in the brothel. No one spoke a word of what went down or whom they saw within the walls of one, unless they wished for their own secrets and pleasures to be spilled to the public. Of course, Aegon expected his new Master of Whisperers to hear of it by the time he returned to the Red Keep, but he trusted Lord Larys to keep it to himself.

Without another word, he turned toward the nearest empty room and tugged the curtain open far enough for the two to step inside before tugging it close again. Aegon's heart raced in his chest, be it from the drinks or genuine excitement, he couldn't be sure. He turned to face (Y/N), finding the young man already seated at the edge of the bed watching him.

"What do you want, Your Grace?" He asked gently, his head tilting to the side while Aegon fumbled to get his clothes off fast enough. He looked enticing in the soft candleglow with his rope pulled apart to show his chest and stomach. It made heat spread throughout Aegon's body.

Discarding his layers of clothing, he stumbled forward and grabbed hold of (Y/N)'s face, lips slamming against his clumsily. "You." He exhaled and pressed their lips back together, pushing (Y/N) flat against the bed with ease and digging his knees into the mattress. His hands forced the silky robe further apart, undoing the belt and pushing it further down (Y/N)'s shoulders until he could grab a fistful of it and yank it off the bed.

"What is it you want from me?" (Y/N) asked next, breathless and head tilting back to allow Aegon more access to his neck. Aegon suckled and nipped whatever skin he could reach, littering his skin with red and purple marks that'd surely vex the Madam who owned the brothel, but he was a king. He could do as he pleased.

Aegon laughed airly in return, leaning back to admire his work and pressing his thumb into one of the bruises. "What everyone else wants." He responded, eyes slowly raking over the rest of his body; from his rising and falling chest down to his thighs. Irritation flared in him at the fading mark of fingers and he placed his hand over his thighs, squeezing until he ensured the only mark left was by him.

"Your Grace," (Y/N) reached out to cup the nape of his neck, and in one swift move, Aegon found himself lying beneath him. He blinked up at him and then laughed giddily, hands flying to (Y/N)'s hips and squeezing the flesh there. (Y/N) leaned back on his thighs and took him by the shoulders, pulling him up into a sitting position so they were face to face. "What do you really want?"

"Yo-" The word died in his throat when (Y/N)'s fingertips brushed back his messy silver hair behind his ear. His lips pressed together tightly, eyes jumping away from the worker to focus on the lewd mural painted over the wall. (Y/N)'s palm pressed against his cheek, his thumb stroking his skin.

The gentleness of it, the sweetness, the comfort. It was all foreign to Aegon. He was used to being slapped, pushed, screamed at, ignored. Nobody had ever touched him with genuine kindness, not even Ser Criston who seemingly preferred his brother over him, or his mother who spent most of her time staring at him in exasperation or disappointment. The only people who ever looked at him with pure love and adoration... were his children. Little Jaehaerys..

Tears sprung to his eyes immediately, a sob threatening to rise in his throat. His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip as his vision blurred, fingers curling around the sheets in a desperate attempt to stop the tears from falling. He couldn't cry in front of someone else, much less a stranger. He was a king. He had to be strong. Crying showed weakness. Aegon wasn't weak. No, no, they were all wrong. He was strong. He-

"I'm here, Your Grace." (Y/N) cooed softly, and Aegon's eyes snapped back to him. He smiled kindly at him and pulled him closer, his fingers tangling themselves in Aegon's hair. They ran through the silver locks sweetly, comfortingly, detangling the knots that'd formed and scratching gently at his scalp. "I'll take care of you."

With that, the wall he'd so desperately built crumbled, his arms slinging around (Y/N)'s waist as his lips parted to release whimpers and muffled wails. (Y/N)'s arms curled around his shoulder, cradling his head and humming gentle lullabies Aegon vaguely recognized. His body trembled and shook with each sob and cry, arms pulling and tugging him closer; seeking out the warmth and comfort he'd been deprived of since his childhood. A father who ignored him, a mother who begrudgingly cared for him, siblings who hardly liked him... a dead son.

(Y/N) only moved to lean back into the countless pillows, bringing Aegon along with him and letting the king rest his head over his chest. His skin had long grown wet with tears and saliva but he remained silent, focused on rubbing circles along Aegon's back and brushing back his hair until the hiccups and sobs subsided, quieting down into sniffles and tired sighs. Part of him wanted to feel embarrassed but he felt too exhausted to allow the emotion to take hold of him.

"I'm sorry this happened to you, Your Grace." (Y/N) told him softly, and Aegon's face scrunched up again, the last few tears spilling down his cheeks. Nobody had bothered to comfort him, and he'd been too overwhelmed by everything to seek it from his sister-wife. They hardly understood each other. Her with her odd riddles and sayings, him with his drinking and affairs.

(Y/N) shifted underneath him, reaching over to the nightstand and retrieving a handkerchief. He dipped his fingers under Aegon's chin and tilted his head toward him, gently dapping at his cheeks and under his nose, drying and cleaning the evidence of his weeping. Nothing in his face changed, no disgust or boredom in his eyes. Only the kind smile and soft eyes. It made Aegon relax fully and completely.

His fingers tightened on Aegon's chin, tugging on it gently and pulling the king up before connecting their lips again. Aegon slumped against him, his clear mind focused on the softness of his lips and the hint of wine still on his tongue. The back of (Y/N)'s ankles met Aegon's bare thighs, carefully pushing against them until their hips were pressed together. He swallowed the breathy whine that escaped Aegon, a brief teasing smile appearing on his face before Aegon began rocking needily against him, the smile vanishing. His parted lips allowed Aegon to venture into his mouth, tongues colliding on occasion.

The hand along Aegon's back began exploring, running over the muscles he'd developed despite spending most of his time lazying about. His hand dipped downward and playfully squeezed the mound of flesh there, a low groan escaping Aegon. He pressed his forehead against (Y/N)'s, his lips curling into a smirk at the innocent look that (Y/N) gave him. Cheeky bastard. It was expected from a brothel worker, though.

The clumsy rocking of his hips increased and the fingers that retangled in his hair gave a tug, gentle enough to not create any real pain but hard enough to get his attention. Aegon whined and dropped his head down to (Y/N)'s shoulder but he eased his rocking, his fingers digging tightly into the pillows and sheets beneath him. At his easy submission, (Y/N) smiled again and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple.

"Good," He breathed and Aegon flushed at the way heat rushed to his lower belly. (Y/N)'s hand left Aegon's backside and reached for the nightstand again, pulling out a small round cup and bringing it closer. Despite his trembling thighs, Aegon managed to peel himself away from (Y/N), the loss of contact making his hips buck.

"What is..." Aegon trailed off, (Y/N)'s hand taking his wrist. His thumb swiped over Aegon's fingers, pressing each down until one remained uncurled. The realization dawned on him fairly quickly, the way his features brightened making (Y/N) laugh softly before he dipped the finger into the liquid Aegon assumed to be some sort of oil.

"I'll guide you, Your Grace." (Y/N) told him softly, setting the cup aside and guiding his hand down between their bodies. Aegon's eyes flickered between (Y/N)'s face and his hand, a strangled curse escaping him when warmth greeted his digit. His free hand tightened further around a pillow, the designs threaded into it imprinting in his palm. The way (Y/N) held eye contact hardly helped with his attempt at self-restraint.

His mind ran wild, promptly forgetting about politics or the fact they were nearing a war for the first time in decades in order to focus on (Y/N)'s face. The darkening bruises along his neck only made Aegon's mouth water and heart flutter with pride, every gentle gasp and quiet whine that left him only made his veins burn with desire, something he found more addictive than the intoxication of wine. His head swooped down, burying itself in his neck to drag his tongue over the bruises and darken them even further with more suckling.

His hand began moving, slowly and experimental at first. Aegon hardly considered himself a gentle lover, for he preferred the joy of rough and fast fucking, only ever being considerate when it came to his sister-wife. Even then, even with Helaena, he often chased after his own high and pleasure over everyone else's, but he'd been desiring (Y/N) for far too long to make a fool of himself. When he curled his finger and heard (Y/N)'s breath hitch, he smirked and slipped in a second digit.

Aegon humbly believed himself a quick learner when it came to things he enjoyed, so by the time he added a third digit, he'd already ensured (Y/N) had turned into a panting and whining mess. (Y/N)'s heels dug into his calves roughly enough to turn his pale skin red, the subtle hint of pain only fueling him to quicken his pace. He'd left (Y/N)'s collarbone and part of his chest covered in markings, ensuring any other patrons (Y/N) took for the following days knew who'd taken him to bed.

The hand tightly gripping his bicep flew down to Aegon's wrist, squeezing around it and pulling his fingers out. His lips formed a pout immediately but he savored the gasp and light huff that escaped (Y/N). He swallowed and leaned up, capturing Aegon's lips again before pushing back against him, toppling Aegon onto his back once again and straddling his hips. Aegon's eyes brightened, his hands digging into (Y/N)'s thighs in anticipation.

"Shit," A guttural groan left the king, his blunt nails leaving imprints in (Y/N)'s skin when he wrapped his fingers around Aegon's length, his thumb pressing over the slit. Aegon's hips bucked and he threw his head back, his adams apple bobbing with a harsh swallow. His chest heaved and a mixture of a whine and a plead fell from his lips like a prayer.

"Easy, Your Grace." (Y/N) cooed, his free hand moving to Aegon's chest and pressing against it, fingers gently massaging into the muscle. The hint of mischief in his words didn't go over Aegon's head. His heels dug into the crinkling sheets and his nostrils flared with the deep breath he took, his grip on (Y/N) loosening and thumbs rubbing over the areas apologetically. (Y/N) nodded approvingly and Aegon gave a lopsided grin.

His composure lasted a whole three seconds before it crumbled with a few pumps from (Y/N)'s hand, though he only continued with a chuckle instead of scolding him. Aegon's eyes turned glassy again from the sensations, his breath hitching every few minutes while the knot in his stomach tightened. He let out a whiny noise when (Y/N) paused his movements, his bottom lip jutting out. However, when he caught the way (Y/N) pushed himself further on his knees and hovered over him, he clamped his mouth shut.

Aegon's breath hitched again followed by a sharp curse as (Y/N) lowered himself at an agonizingly slow pace. A dribble of drool slipped out from the corner of his parted lips and trailed down his cheek. His mind had long gone blank, the only thing he focused on being the sensation of (Y/N) taking him with only soft pants and the occasional hiss. He desperately wished to move, to flip them over and ensure (Y/N) wouldn't be able to walk for at least a day but he wanted to be good, he wanted the praise he rarely ever got. So he remained still, hands moving to (Y/N)'s hips and clawing lightly at him.

"You're doing-" (Y/N) cut himself off with a soft grunt, the hand at the base of Aegon's length leaving to plant itself on his other shoulder. Aegon swore he saw stars when (Y/N) fully settled on him. (Y/N) breathlessly laughed at the awestruck, hazy look on Aegon's face, his hand gently cupping his cheek and kissing him. "-so well, my sweet Aegon." Aegon whined softly at that.

"Please," Aegon whispered and (Y/N) gave him a thoughtful look despite the teasing curl of his lips. "I'll be good." He murmured, words slurred but he hardly felt the effects of everything he'd taken that night.

"Will you?" (Y/N) still sounded breathless, the candlelight showing off the gleam of sweat on his skin. His hands moved from his shoulders to wander over Aegon's chest and stomach, trailing over his biceps and arms until they reached his hands and laced their fingers together. Aegon nodded hurriedly, so desperate and wanting but the feeling of their hands together made his stomach flutter with a newfound emotion.

"I-" Aegon had little time to finish his sentence before (Y/N) rose to the tip and then slipped back down to the base, the action knocking the air out of both of them and further tightening the knot threatening to break loose at any moment. One of (Y/N)'s hands untangled itself from Aegon's to slam beside Aegon's hand, a half-hearted attempt at balancing and grounding himself. Aegon held onto the other hand tightly, refusing to let him go for even a second.

(Y/N) leaned down and pulled him into a heated kiss full of all tongue and muffled cries, Aegon's restraint chipping fully away when (Y/N) grinded down on him a few times. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and wrapped his arm around (Y/N)'s waist tightly, his thighs beginning to ache and burn deliciously.

"Go ahead," (Y/N) exhaled on his lips and Aegon lost himself.

Much time passed, the sound of pained groaning and grumpy muttering from the other side of the window telling them the sun would soon be rising. The thumping footsteps of patrons nursing hangovers echoed through the brothel as they shuffled out, the jingling of coins and such mixing in. The quiet chatter of brothel workers followed, cups and chairs clinking as they began cleaning up.

"Your Grace," (Y/N) sighed sleepily, his eyelids visibly heavy and lip slightly jutted out. Aegon felt equally as exhausted but the sight of him rubbing tiredly at his eyes made his heart swell, finding himself unable to resist kissing his semi-swollen lips. (Y/N) hummed softly, his fingers slipping between their faces to push Aegon back. "You must head home. Your-" He cut himself off with a yawn. "Your kingdom requires you."

"I'd much prefer staying here forever," Aegon responded, coiling his arms tightly around (Y/N)'s body and dragging him closer against him. His whole body ached, his muscles sore and head spinning from the beginning of a hangover. (Y/N) breathed out a snort and rubbed his cheek into the soft satin pillow, eyes beginning to droop.

"You mustn't. They'll come looking for you, Your Grace."

"Aegon." He groaned. "Call me Aegon."

"Aegon." (Y/N) repeated softly. "Go home."

"Come with me, then," Aegon told him quietly. At his words, (Y/N)'s eyes snapped open, the sleep jerked away from his body and replaced with surprise. Aegon chuckled at his wide-eyed expression. "Come with me to- to the Red Keep. Come... be my paramour. You'll have your own room near mine... and- and you'll receive whatever you wish for. No one will dare say a thing."

(Y/N) stared at him for a long moment before he cupped Aegon's cheek and pressed a fleeting kiss to the tip of his nose. "You're exhausted, Your Grace. You do not understand what you're saying. You'll come to once you properly rest. You must go now before the sun rises and others see you." He said, slithering out of Aegon's hold to retrieve their clothes. He slipped his robe on with ease and offered Aegon his tunic.

"I'll get dressed," Aegon took his wrist and dragged his lips over the back of his hand. "If you agree to become my paramour and live in the Red Keep."

"We're only allowed in the Red Keep to entertain, Your Grace. You'll never be allowed to have a brothel worker as a paramour, much less a man. The Faith will never allow it. The Dowager Queen and- and-"

"I do not care what they think. I am King. I can do whatever I want, and I want you to be mine."

926 notes · View notes

svnflowerkae · 3 months ago

Text

I've been wanting to write some dark content for a while, so here it is! If this disturbs don't proceed any further, thank you. I DON'T LIKE AND CONDONE INCEST/STEPCEST IRL AND THAT SHOULD BE CLEAR.

Characters: Uncle!Toji x Afab!reader

tw: incest, age gap (Toji is in his 40s, reader has 20+ years!!!), jerking off, panties sniffing, handjob (reader to Toji), nipple play, (implied) size difference, no curse!AU, mention of death (reader parents), MDNI.

｡ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ｡ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ｡ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ

Uncle!Toji that always comes to your parents house to visit you and bringing you gifts everytime. He's so happy to see you, to see you all happy and spoiled, especially from him. Uncle!Toji that when he learns you and your parents had an accident comes soon as possible to the hospital, checking on how you were doing. Sadly... your parents didn't make it. And he knows what to do.

Uncle!Toji that sees you becoming more beautiful everyday. Your eyes and lips matching your mother's one. Toji felt something in him, something that he know was wrong but couldn't help. He tried to chase that feeling everytime you touched his arms, his chest, his abdomen. He tried to not get hard when you would bend over, your ass all in display from him. He would left the room without saying anything, just going to the bathroom. There he would take his cock out and begin to stroke it. First slowly and then picking up the pace. His tip so red that precum was leaking from it, the tension in his body so much that every muscle was contracted. But before he would came he would edge himself, taking time to search for your panties in the laundry chest. Finally he find them. He quickly sniffed them, a moan escaping his lips as he licked them, too. Your sweet scent inebriating his brain, his cock pulsing in his hand as he came. Cum spurting all over his legs and lower abdomen. After a few minutes he slapped himself, putting his cock back in his usual grey trousers and washing his face with cold water. Watching himself in the mirror and shocking his head in dissatisfaction. He should do something about it, it can't go on like this.

Uncle!Toji that becomes more reckless and tries to avoid you. Seeing his beautiful niece, everyday, in everyway made his blood rush south. He sighed, jerking off for the third time that day. No one was at home and it was the perfect chance for him to go into your bedroom and see what he could you to jerk off to your scent. Aha found it he thought to himself, taking some cotton panties that you forget near your bed, on the floor. Toji sniffed them, a moan ripping past his lips as he felt his cock becoming harder and harder. He should hurry up, go in his room, but something about being there, in what is your bedroom, panties in hand, cock out and jerking it made him so so so horny. Uncle!Toji who is so caught up in the moment that doens't hear you call for him and doesn't hear your steps stop when you enter your room. Your face red, feeling flustered, at the same time squeezing your legs for some relief. The atmosphere is dense and you salivate at the sight of his big and heavy cock. You slowly go behind him, hugging him. That's when Uncle!Toji realize you're here, in the same room as him. At first he's paralize but he knows that now's the only time to use this chance, and never going back from here.

Uncle!Toji that let's out a deep moan when he feels your hands on his aching cock. Hands colder than the heat he's feeling in all his body. There's no room for words, just full tension, skin sounds and moans. While one of your hand was mking sure to stroke his dick for good, teasing the leaking tip, your other hand went to one of his nipples. His pecs were so fucking big and it was hard to not stare at them in your daily life. That's when Uncle!Toji whimpers loudly. No shame in his face nor in yours. As you keep teasing, pinching, circling his nipples - making sure both of them are being stimulated - Uncle!Toji's hips are thrusting more and more frantically to reach his orgasm. You let a small chuckle. It was so hot seeying a big man as your uncle being reduced to a moaning mess. A few minutes pass and that's when, with another loud pitch, Uncle!Toji comes. His warm seed going on your hand, his abdomen and a few drops on the floor. You lick your lips, tasting it. A moan escapes past your lips as Uncle!Toji takes a few breaths.

Uncle!Toji that after more minuted are passed gets out of your room. Again, no words in sights. You close your door, your back against it as you bite your lips. From now on you know how to get things going. Your wet core aching. Yes, better to take care of this first.

｡ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ｡ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ｡ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #toji x reader #toji x reader smut #tw: dark content #tw: incest

216 notes · View notes

fear-is-truth · 3 months ago

Text

♱. ‘𝑪𝑨𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑰’𝑴 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑱𝑨𝒁𝒁 𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝒀𝑶𝑼’𝑹𝑬 𝑴𝒀 𝑪𝑼𝑳𝑻 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹 — kai anderson HEADCANONS

dark content ; 18 禁 | minors do not interact . . . fluff & smut. period mention. possessive/obsessive behaviour. unprotected p in v. toxic masculinity. allusions to incest (by default)

a/n — did a s7 rewatch to improve my mental health

cooking supper for him and him being an absolute menace. he’s leaning over your shoulder, trying to steal food straight from the pan with his fingers. “it’s not ‘stealing’ if it’s for me,” he smirks, snatching a chicken tender before you can slap his hand away. if you deny him, he’ll wrap his arms around your waist and distract you with neck kisses.

intellectual conversations that are really just a flex of his knowledge—he’s quoting machiavelli, tolstoy, nietzsche and of course, shakespeare. kai loves hearing himself talk.

he insists on being the one to pay for everything. groceries, the bills—it makes him feel secure and in control. he needs to be the provider because it validates his worldview. (pretty sexist but still better than that “men lead, women bleed” bullshit)

lying in bed with kai, his arms draped around your waist, chin resting on your stomach. he’s staring up at you like he’s weighing something—caught between honesty and performance. he usually goes with the latter. his voice is rough around the edges as he finally asks, “you think i’m worthy of this? all this weight on my shoulders?” and even though you know he’s just fishing for validation, you still thread your fingers through his hair and tell him yes. of course.

contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t really mind being the little spoon once in a while. but he’s the big spoon by default.

him watching you sleep, convinced you look most divine when unconscious and unaware. you rarely wake up before him. when you do, he’s usually got an arm around your middle and his face pressed into the crook of your neck.

feeding kai his adderall. he doesn’t even think about it anymore; just opens his mouth slightly when you hold the pill between your fingers, chewing it up and swallowing it dry. “good girl,” he presses his forehead to yours before going back to whatever he was doing.

when you fuss over small things—zip up his jacket, tell him not to forget his keys, kiss the corner of his mouth before he leaves—he acts annoyed and says you’re being clingy. but when you don’t do that, it automatically sets him in a bad mood.

he keeps to the same routine when he’s home, lifting dumbbells with one hand while the other scrolls twitter. his man bun’s a bit messy, loose strands of blue sticking to his temple. but the most infuriating part is the way his sweatpants are slung low on his hips, nonchalantly teasing that deep v-line.

him tracking your period like it’s part of his agenda (he’s observant he’s a total creep. he can smell it; that faint metallic sweetness under your usual scent.) oh and he always says it so casually—“you’re bleeding again.” he gets off your sensitivity and irritation.

he insists on showering with you, to “save water” (in reality, kai doesn’t give a fuck about the environment). it always begins with him pretending to be helpful—lightly massaging shampoo into your hair, a touch that’s meant to feel caring, but it doesn’t take long before he grows impatient. that’s when he’ll press his body up against yours, hand sliding down your back, pushing your hair aside to kiss your neck. you can feel his arousal rubbing against your ass, and the next thing you know, he’s turning you against the glass, sliding inside you.

tw : implied incestuous thoughts ; skip this one if you’re understandably uncomfortable

when you come back from shopping with winter sporting matching nails or coordinating outfits, the visual of you and his sister looking like a unit scratches some taboo corner of his brain. he’s possessive over both of you in different, fucked-up ways. jealous that you’re bonding without him, paranoid that winter might steal you, and turned on by how you’re starting to resemble her.

#american horror story #ahs #kai anderson #evan peters #ahs cult #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x y/n #kai anderson smut #kai anderson headcanons

204 notes · View notes

fxtalitygod · 8 months ago

Text

EPILOGUE. ~Survival~

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy mentions, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 1-2x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), implied incest mentions

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: Today marks the day I finish this series. Guys, I cannot believe it took me two years to finish this damned series. Do not get me wrong, I loved writing it, but boy, it was a major pain in my ass. As corny as it sounds, thank you all for sticking with me throughout this series. When I originally posted the first chapter, I did not expect ANY attention whatsoever; it was just a self-indulgent thing I wanted to write because I wanted a better representation of (Y/n) where, yeah, she may not be the strongest. However, she still knows how to make do with what she has and make that her strength. I also wanted to give a more realistic relationship with the pairing. As much as I love Sukuna's character, I did not believe him to be a character capable of "true love" but a character that values others but not in the way you might think. I'm talking literal value, currency value, and benefit value. I wanted a more realistic take on the story because I did not know how many more historical "Kuna," "Suku," or "Kunie" stories I could take. No hate for those who write it or those who enjoy it; it just isn't my personal cup of tea. I like true crime and dark stories (I have this serial killer project that I'm stoked about because I know I will get my group an A+), so I tend to enjoy those darker sides, which I believe is why I like Sukuna's character so much, he just feeds into that side of me. There are some of the fantasies I enjoy where Sukuna is non-canon, such as AUs and all that, but when it comes to JJK's storyline or his historical AUs, I tend to fall short of enjoyment of that type of fantasy.

Anywho, thank you all for sticking around and enjoy the epilogue. I hope it was worth the wait. I may or may not have written three times because my perfectionism kicked in every time I proofread it, and I found something I did not like and scraped half the chapter. I bet I'll find a little thing here and there when I post this. Still, it won't be anything noticeable, something along the lines of my tags and probably my TW, though Im usually very on point with those kinds of things. Still, it always seems that AFTER I make the post, I really start to notice things even after proofreading it 50x.

P.S. I plan to do a behind-the-scenes post on all my original ideas. I have worked on this little project for two years, so you bet I had alternatives. Feel free to send me asks or messages asking me about things you are curious about, and I will gladly answer.

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

The market was bustling at this time of day. Workers were heading home from a hard day of work, rushing through the roads as they grabbed ingredients and materials for their households to prepare their meals and homes; everything was so normal...and if she were being honest, it felt strange. The confined life of the temple had practically become a comfort, so when presented with a slice of normalcy, it was foreign and, if she were being honest, alarming as well.

Having so much freedom was intimidating and overwhelming– the fear of having something good and it being taken away was a looming thought that brought many anxieties.

Years have passed since that fated day, Sukuna Ryomen's downfall. Since the fire and the slaughter that had immersed, Sukuna's actions had remained silent. There were whispers of sightings and rumors that the curse user had met his demise, but she knew better. Sukuna Ryomen was unkillable, and if anybody had truly caught a glance of him, they would be dead before they could live and tell the tale.

"Mama."

The world seemed to stop as the word processed through her head. Blood ran cold, and breaths of air seemed to come in at a faster rate. The woman turned to the little girl holding her hand, causing her heart to shatter.

"Darling, I told you not to refer to me as your mother, remember?"

The question remained as a statement rather than an inquiry as if refamiliarizing the child with a rule she had been reacquainted with on multiple occasions.

"I-I know that, but why can I not? You care for me like a mother, so why can I not call you my mother?'

"We have discussed this before, child," the woman sighed, "I believe it unfair to be taking the title of your actual mother."

"Well, if my real mother had not given me away, it would not be like this..."

Pausing mid-step, the caretaker held her breath, controlling the emotions and memories that flashed through her mind. The girl's sentence rang through her head, eliciting a feeling she was not commonly met with... aggravation. With no hesitance, the woman's minimal steps turned into longer strides, her grip even firmer on the young girl's hand. Getting to their place of lodging was more vital than anything, as she wanted to avoid discussing such sensitive matters in a public setting. Prying ears were close enough in such a crowded setting.

Upon reaching the home, the stand-in mother pulled the child inside before shutting the door. She swiftly bent down to the young one's level and took the child's shoulders into her hands. The little girl was shocked by the woman's reaction, staying silent and still as if afraid of what was to come next.

"Child, I will not hear you speak such false claims of your mother. You do not know the sacrifices she made to get you here."

The girl's expression of fear shifted from dread to shame. Her face was red from embarrassment after she was caught for her prior statement. However, as children do, she made it her goal to justify herself.

"What is the point of her sacrifice if she left me. Did she not want to be around me?"

"She did not leave you; if she were still in this world, trust me, she would be right here with you!"

The caregiver's words came out with little thought; all she knew was that she would not tolerate the little girl's false assumptions. However, now that the words spilled out of her mouth, she began to regret them. Seeing the tears well up in the girl's eyes made her wish she had phrased it differently.

"What do you mean?"

The caretaker cursed under her breath before inhaling through her nose, exhaling softly before speaking.

"You deserve the truth, my dear, and the truth is that your mother sacrificed her life to ensure you had a good one. She loved you so much that she valued your life more than hers. You might not understand this now, but that is a mother's love." The woman's breath stuttered, "She loved you more than you could ever know. I will not claim the title as your mother for that reason."

The girl was overwhelmed with emotion, only knowing how to express it through tears. The woman could not bear it and brought the girl close to her chest, embracing her to give any form of comfort that might help– it broke her heart to hear the child's quiet sobs.

After calming down, the kid spoke, though with some light chokes.

"W-what s-should I call you then?"

The warden took a sigh as she thought over her charges question. In all honesty, she had no idea what to say. What answer could she even give her? She could not allow her real name to float between the child's tongue as it would expose her identity. What name could she let the child speak?

"Hmm," the woman loosened her embrace, looking the little girl in the eye with a soft smile, "What do you think you should call me?"

The girl tilted her head, wanting more elaboration.

The lady chuckled softly, "What do you think my name should be, child?"

The caregiver had expected the girl to take some time to come up with an answer; however, the kid took no hesitation when she blurted out...

"Makato-san!"

Silenced engulfed the home as her caregiver failed to respond.

"Makato-san, I'm going to the market. Do you need anything?"

Another prolonged stillness as the young lady waited for a response.

The girl scrunched her brows in concern, extending her neck to look further into the room as if the individual she was looking for would appear. With the growing silence, the young adult searched the home for her guardian.

"Makato-san?"

She searched and examined the silent home with slight panic before finally stumbling upon the older woman, staring blankly at the floor she was kneeling on– unresponsive as she continued to stare.

With caution, Y/n's daughter reached her hand out to her caregiver's, placing it on the woman's shoulder. The response she got was one she had not expected.

The Makato turned suddenly, grabbing onto the young woman's wrist with an ungodly strength that even the girl was unaware of. This caused the girl to wince in pain as she tried to pull her arm away. Her arm was turning a light purple from the lack of circulation, proving the grip's vice.

Despite her fear, the charge could only feel concerned as her caregiver made eye contact, tears welling up in her eyes. It stayed like that for a couple more seconds before she snapped back into reality, gasping as she was presented with the image of her actions, quickly letting go of the young lady's arm.

"I'm so sorry, my Dear. I did not mean to...I was just..." The woman paused, swallowing her following words; however, her stutter did not disappear: "D-D-Did you need something, m-my, Dear?"

"I was preparing to leave and was going to ask if you needed anything from that market," the girl paused, choosing her next words carefully. Makato-san, you've been acting strange as of late. Is everything alright?"

The young woman was old enough to recognize the hesitance in her caretaker's features and the short lack of response.

"Whatever do you mean, Darling?"

"Please do not take me a fool," the youthful female voiced before sighing and looking at Makato in pity, "I'm worried for you, Makato-san. Ever since the refugees from the other village came, you have been behaving irregularly."

The refugees.

To say that their arrival was a shock was an understatement. At first, Makato thought nothing of it until the newcomers began to tell their stories. Their village was burned in a monstrous fire by a "crazed" sorcerer, and their home was now unsustainable to live in as it was left entirely in shambles. Despite this information, Makato thought little of it as there had been few stories of criminal sorcerers destroying homes, most being "inspired" by Sukuna's actions after his sudden hiatus. It was not until an elderly woman, who she happened to hear at random, described the appearance of the sorcerer.

"He was monstrous, the vile thing; he had four arms and two faces if you do not count that horrid mouth on his stomach. I watched both of them grin as it chewed on the remains of my eldest son." the elder choked and sobbed as the memory came back to taunt her.

Makato's heart dropped to her stomach. Rushing home in search of her charge, she found the girl working on her studies. Seeing the child she worked so hard to raise brought relief, but it was not long before the memories and visions began to haunt her. Sometimes, she would see you standing there, looking down at her, motionless and silent, with a pained, pitful look.

She hated it.

When you looked at her that way, she felt weak and vulnerable—as if she were failing. She was not as cool and calculating as you were, nor as confident or intimidating. Had you been here, you would have more than likely been able to disappear from society and find a nice, quiet life for yourself and your daughter. But you were not here; that was the problem– you were just a figment of her imagination.

Even then, she wanted you to stop looking at her that way.

Sometimes, she was left in her privacy and saw your vision appear to accompany her. It would drive her mad as she tried to convince you, even herself, that she was doing enough. She would speak into the silence of the room and get no response.

"What else could you want with me? I am doing everything I can!"

Silence.

"I am happy. She is happy. We are happy. Is that not enough for you?"

Silence.

"He thinks she is dead– he thinks I am dead! There is no possible way that..."

Silence.

"Please, stop looking at me that way. I am capable of doing this...please have faith in me."

"Makato-san?"

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Makato tracked what the girl had said earlier, not wanting to worry about her charge further.

"I apologize for my irregular behavior, my Dear. I can assure you that I am alright. I have had a lot of stress these days regarding the refugees. I want to do my part to assist them, but I have been running myself ragged and am just...tired."

The girl hesitated, not wanting to accept her caretaker's excuse, but she knew pushing the subject would not do her any good, so she nodded in understanding. The worst part is that Makato knew your daughter was aware of her white lie, but she would not admit it for some slim hope that the girl honestly did not know. Sometimes, she wished your daughter had not inherited your intelligence and perception.

"Do you need anything from the market, Makato-san? I plan on leaving soon to aid the refugees."

"No, I believe we have enough supplied for quite a while. All that I ask of you is to be safe, Darling."

Your daughter agreed, letting a soft smile slip onto her face before hugging Makato. The woman accepted the embrace before experiencing a wave of realization. Intelligence and perception were not the only things she inherited from you; she happened to be a real beauty as well.

"My Dear, if you plan on seeing that boy of yours, speak your peace now and know that I only want you to be safe and happy."

The girl struggled to find words before lowering her head in embarrassment, her face bright red with fluster.

"You are of age now, and I want you to know the responsibilities that rest on your shoulders."

"Makato-san, I never meant to keep it a secret. I just...I was afraid of your disapproval."

The more experienced woman could understand where she was coming from. Long ago, she was in the girl's position. However, she was never allowed to pursue her love due to the circumstances of her arrangement, but that does not mean she did not try. Despite her efforts to keep her relationship together, it was all for not in the end. She was given away as a sacrificial lamb to a monster.

Your daughter had a chance of love, and the caregiver would not squander it for her. She wanted your daughter to have a chance at a relationship she never had. Maybe it was questionable on her part due to the circumstances of her mission, but she did not entirely care. She just wanted your daughter to have a normal life.

She knew that was what you had wanted for your child.

"I do not disapprove, Darling. I just want you to be happy and to be careful."

"I promise that I will Makato-san."

There was a pause of awkward silence before the young woman embraced Makato once more.

"Thank you, I'll be back soon."

Makato smiled as she watched her ward leave the home. She had no problem admitting she was happy for the girl, but something deep within her told her it was a bad idea. It was hard for her to come to terms with, but she had an itching feeling that did not settle with her.

The world was perfect at the moment. Your daughter had put smiles on faces from her charity and was now being rewarded with a proposal for her marriage. She hugged her lover, showing her love and adoration in any way appropriate for their stage in relationship. If you were here, you would be beaming with joy, giving consent to the marriage with no hesitation because this is all you could ever want for your girl, and it would have been all you wanted for your twins.

You never had a chance of love and a happy life; seeing your children be able to pursue their lives to the fullest, especially in romantics, would have been considered a blessing to you.

"This is the happiest day of my life, honestly, but have you received my guardian's blessing?"

The young man chuckled, caressing her cheek reassuringly, "I plan on coming over for dinner tonight to ask for your hand properly if you will have me."

The girl could only agree eagerly through her expressions, unable to speak in fear of shouting instead of politely inviting him. Hugging him one last time before parting to rush home and prepare their meal; however, a chill went up her spine the moment she left; everything felt cold, and she could not explain why. Maybe it was the lack of his embrace, but she had never felt that way. There was only one good reason she could name.

Her nerves were getting the best of her...

"What if Makato-san declines."

The young woman's moods changed throughout the day as she prepared for the most significant evening of her life. One moment, she had the goofiest, filled with overwhelming joy, but there were other times when she would find herself chewing her nails from anxiety, and right now, she was having one of those times.

"Dear, stop that. This behavior is far from healthy. What has you behaving this way?"

"Nothing, everything is fine. I suppose I'm just hoping dinner will turn out acceptable tonight."

"Dear, please do not insult my intelligence with these excuses. What is going on that you are not telling me?"

"Well, I—" there was a pause. How was the ward supposed to say anything without giving anything away?

"You what? Spit it out, child, you are worrying me."

"I cannot say. I am sorry. But do not worry, please; something good is about to happen. Please trust me on this."

Makato chewed the inside of her cheek. She did trust her ward, but she had this gut feeling, this sickening feeling that she could not name. Maybe it was just her nerves getting the best of her, so she pushed it aside. She trusted your daughter, the only trustworthy person that Makato knew.

"Alright... is there anything you need help with?

The younger one smiled sweetly, taking her caretaker's hands in her own.

"No, I have it handled. You have been so stressed the past few days that you should just relax. Tonight, all your worries will be washed away." With that, she parted to continue her work for the big news. She was all but too excited.

She was also naive.

She was a sweet little girl, but she was naive. To think all of Makato's worries and problems would go away by simply relaxing, through sweet and simple gestures, was an innocent way to think. It was how Makato raised that girl because she wanted that sweet little girl to have that luxury. There were times she wondered if she had made the right choice, but then she would remember what pain looked like and what too much experience could do to a person.

No, she made the right decision. This is what you would have wanted.

Right?

Yes.

Makato went, and she sat as the young woman finished her final preparations for the meal. The girl looked more stressed than ever, rushing at the final threshold, but it seemed that preparations were finished and she was filling time. She found little things to do that held no significance. She was in her head, making Makato question if everything was truly fine.

Then, the footsteps could be heard. He was here, and everything was going to change. Life was going to change, and it was between her and that door. The biggest day of her life was only a dinner conversation away. So she opened the door and was presented with an image she thought she would never see or experience.

"We must leave. The village is under attack, and we do not have much time."

The smell of smoke was strong, and embers could be seen from a not-to0-far distance. The world came crashing down, and she could not say a thing. She could only stand there with an oblivious smile.

"What?"

Fear, confusion, anger, any negative emotion she could feel, she was feeling. This was not how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to get a blessing and marry the man of her dreams. Why now? Why this? This could not be real, there was no way.

If the world had crashed down for your daughter, the heavens collided into the earth, dissipating everything in its path in Makato's eyes. The older woman stood, no thoughts running in her head as she strided to the boy, grabbing him by his garments

"You tell me now, and you tell me true, boy! What did you see?!"

Her sudden actions left him too stunned to speak, but after some shaking and calling for his attention, he found himself capable of a response.

"Makato-san, what is happening?" It was like everything hit her at once, but she was still trying to understand why it was happening today– why it was happening now at the most crucial moment of her life.

"I do not know what it was, but it was a man of stature. He was disfigured; he had two faces and four arms. He came without warning, started flames, and began a massacre. His face was cold, as if he felt absolutely nothing."

There was no doubt in her mind that it was him, no doubt her former husband as reigning terror; however, based on the emotionless state of his ambush, bloodshed was beginning to lose its flavor. It was comical, but as much as it had some humor, this was no joke. This was all too real.

Makato grabbed your daughter's shoulder, pulling her out of her shock. Tears were in her eyes, looking at her caretaker pitifully.

"Makato-san, what is happening?"

She was naive, and being naive was safe, but being naive was also unrealistic. Makato gave the girl a sheltered life, eliminating the possibility of danger to the girl. That was no way to live.

"Your father, that is what is happening."

"What?"

And the shock returned. Makato made an effort to avoid mentioning Sukuna in conversation, only mentioning you in light memory. As far as your daughter was concerned, her father did not exist...until now.

"That so-called man is your father, Ryomen Sukuna. That is the man who drove your mother to eventually kill herself," A pause, licking her lip as she readied herself to elaborate, "Your mother sacrificed herself to protect you from him. He drained the life from her and left her no choice but to die, but she gave it purpose. She died to give you a life, a life away from him."

"I-" Your daughter was at a loss for words. Everything was hitting her too fast.

"I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping it from you. I wanted you to have an everyday life, but I should have noticed sooner or later that the truth would reveal itself and that he would present himself one day."

There was nothing to say, only to exchange expressions of fear and dismay.

"W-Well, what do we do now?"

"We run."

Taking the two charges, Makato grabbed whatever necessities they needed to start a new life. She had been planning this since the day she ran from the temple. She would admit that now, with a third party, it would be more complicated than she had intended, but they would make do.

They exited the home frantic. The smell of smoke became more potent, and the embers were closer than before. The flames became more evident as they spread. Any entrance to the main road would have been a route to death, but Makato had never planned to use that path. There was a back trail through the woods, one she had discovered when your little girl was merely five years of age.

They ran towards the thicket, avoiding as many obstacles as possible. Things were looking smooth, with hardly any disruptions. It was almost serene, but that was the issue. To have such tranquility was a nauseating notion for mayhem being at their backs.

It was too quiet to be safe.

And that is when she knew to push the girl and her lover aside, veiling their presence with her technique before everything went black.

Ringing...

And more ringing...

The lights were brighter, and the smoke and ash came straight from the source. She woke up coughing and gasping for air. For a moment, she thought she had been dreaming, immersed in a life that was not hers. Maybe she was waking up, back to her village, back to her parents, back to the life before she got caught in that awful nightmare.

"I am surprised that it was you, of all the women she let live." Sukuna started, looking down at what he believed to be the scum of the earth.

No, it was all too real. His voice registered through her head instantly despite not hearing it in years– at least in person. She had repeated memories, but sometimes she wondered if she had deformed his voice from years of not hearing him speak down on her. Turns out she remembered it accurately. It still managed to send chills down her spine and make her wish to be six feet under the ground.

"I was probably too forgettable for her to ever really care about whether I lived or died." Makato spat.

"That is reasonable enough, but that would not serve her memory well and rather insult her intelligence. I will say that, if anything, my Little Flower was too clever to let such technicality slip from her. She probably pitied you and your fruitless womb, so she gifted you with a child for you to care for in her absence. And knowing your broken state, she probably knew you would be eager at the opportunity."

Makato scowled, turning her gaze to the ground. How dare he speak of you in such a way. He said that as if you were on his level, as devious and conniving as he was, and claimed your actions were selfish when they were the opposite. You did this for her daughter, not for yourself. If you had it your way, you would be there.

"How old is she now?"

She refused to answer, turning her gaze back to the dirt. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of belittling her more than he already had. It was humiliating, but she still had some dignity and a promise she wished to uphold.

"What does it matter? She is dead. (Y/n) told you herself that she was gone."

A sharp pain was felt at the back of her head as he pulled her hair to force the woman to look up at him.

"Do not picture me a fool! For a woman whose last words claimed her daughter was gone, she left me the most humorous smile. I know that age of the girl, but I would rather hear from you, bitch, how long you have been holding her captive."

No response.

"Answer me!" Sukuna snarled, pulling at her scalp once more.

"Nineteen years of age," Makato smiled. Why? Do you wish to act as a father now? Well, you are too LATE! While you were out throwing tantrums, I raised her child, which you would not know how to do without being given exact handwritten instructions."

"On the contrary, you let her potential slip, and now she is nothing but another womb to breed. Unfortunate, due to the heritage of her mother and myself. However, a womb is still useful regardless."

Out of anything Sukuna had done, out of anything he had said to threaten her, that was the most horrifying.

"You are a disgusting bastard."

"Do not speak as if you can fill her shoes as if you have her confidence. You would not be in this position if you were half the woman she was."

"You are right; if I were half the woman she was, I could have easily manipulated you and have you play the role of the arrogant man with an ego so big, he does not notice the knife pointing at his back," A pause as she licked her lips, swallowing to try and quench her dry throat, "Everything that woman did was out of fear, much like everyone else; however, she knew how to tick your interest and she used that to her advantage. Honestly, I am ashamed. I only noticed it when she told me about her plan."

A twitch in his eye, he was irritated. It was known through body language and the knowledge of his nature that he wanted to tear Makato apart, limb from limb, until her body was unrecognizable.

"What? Afraid to face the truth of her decision. She could have run away with ease; she could have killed you, but both of those options would have been considered a mercy for you. She took away the one thing that you valued: herself. That must eat at you a lot."

With a swift motion, he scooped the former wife from her neck, squeezing her throat as he raised her to face him eye-to-eye.

"You are a worthless bitch who cannot even reproduce, summing you up to nothing. What is your worth?"

Nothing but the struggling breaths of the woman attempting to pry herself from this monster's grip.

"Exactly, you are worth nothing."

Darkness, wherever they were, was dark. The girl and her lover were still in the woods, alive as well as they could manage. She could only remember running into this place before being shoved into the dark area. She felt the ground around her and reached her arms out into the pitch black as she tried to navigate this strange place. It scared her.

"Makato-san? Where are you?"

No response, only silence.

It was dark and frightening, and she did not know what to do. What could she do? She could cry, so she did; she cried as she tried to find her way back. This had to be some kind of night terror. She would wake up, and she would be at that doorway, welcoming her lover into their home, eating their meal, and then sharing the news. Her lover would get her caretaker's blessing, get married, and live happily ever after, right?

Dreadfully wrong.

Instead, a hand reached out and pulled her out of the darkness. The world was still unlit, but moonlight and the flames dancing in the distance could be seen nearby; however, she was not a part of the conflict.

She was about to scream, cry for help, anything to get attention drawn to her location, but was stopped by a large palm to the mouth.

"Shhh, my love. It is only me. It will be alright."

For the first time that night, she felt genuine relief. Turning her head to see her man, she looked down at her disheveled features. She weakly smiled, moving herself to embrace him. It all lasted for a few seconds until she realized the missing member of their little group.

"Where is Makato-san?" she whispered.

The man looked down, not daring to respond. She attempted to make eye contact, but he would only look away.

"Where is she?" she insistently asked, but louder.

" I do not know; a couple curse users emerged from the woods. Makato shoved us into the ditch, and when I came out, she was gone."

"Well...Well, we must go look for her."

A grasp to the wrist effectively stopped the girl.

"No, I cannot risk losing you, and I know Makato-san would agree. She would not want you going out to risk your life to save her."

How could he say that? How dare he say that! What right did he have in this decision?

"Then you do not know her." she scowled, trying to withdraw from his hold, but his hand did not budge.

"Then why would she tell you everything had she not already predicted the possibility that she might die."

"Because... because...she needed me to know because if we were going to run away, I would need to put in my own weight by knowing our threat...yes, that was it! Now let me go!" She tried to reason, but not to him—herself.

Denial.

"It was a confession! As if she were lying on her deathbed, she confessed everything to you. She wants you to move on, knowing there are dangers like your father. She wants you to kno-"

"Well, she may not be dead yet, so we have to try!"

With whatever strength she had deep down, she broke free from his grasp, sprinting towards the village and the flame. She could hear him following her, but in her mind, she wanted to believe he was doing it because he could see her reason. He would help; she was sure of it.

She was almost there, and she swore she could see the silhouette of her caretaker, but then she found herself on the ground. It was only for a second before being lifted into the air, a hand covering her mouth as she got further from her destination.

Kicking, muffled screams, and the distant cackling of flames could be heard. She bit her partner’s hand in an attempt that he would let her go from the sudden pain, but he was resistant. He merely grunted and winced while continuing his journey back. But then there was a halt.

There she was, Makato, thrown onto the ground. She could see her in the distance. The woman looked weak but very much alive, and she was right there. The daughter kicked, shoved, jabbed, and bit even more, trying to get loose. However, her lover would not budge because although he could see Makato, he could also see the shadow hovering over the woman, the shadow your daughter was refusing to look at.

Then the shadow disappeared, and the dreadful monster emerged, Sukuna Ryomen, hovering over Makato with disdain. Watching as she tried to crawl away but failed miserably. She was fighting, doing her best, but her fate was inevitable.

Death was the only option, and death is what she got.

Ryomen Sukuna caved into his impulses, ripping her limb from limb until she was unrecognizable. The daughter watched, horrified, as the woman who raised her was mutilated to nothing but a pulp. What sort of sick joke was this? She remained silent as she tried to think of who would pull such a childish trick, watching as the image got smaller until nothing was left. Eventually, it was just a tiny yellow dot in the distance and nothing more; all she could do was look at it.

"Promise me you will live."

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe o-

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

The scream echoed through the dark room, and you tried to comprehend where you were. The walls were closing in, and the air was too thick to breathe. It felt like like suffocation.

What was this?

Why now?

Where is this?

Why is this?

How is-

"Y/n!"

You snapped back into reality, frantically looking at your surroundings to notice you were in your bedroom.

"Y/n, what happened? Are you okay?"

The silence was tense as you sat there, trying to remember your nightmare. You thought long and hard, but in the end, you had nothing.

"I...I don't know."

You heard a sigh, a hand rubbing your back, and another reaching for your cheek, wiping the stray tears you were unaware of.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight, again?"

Some of you wanted to say no, but the opposing side longed for it. You stared at the clock on the wall before you, reading the time. It was a little past midnight, and you had hardly gotten any rest. You had a big day tomorrow, and rest was crucial to get through your day. God knows the things you would do if you did not properly sleep.

Turning to your twin brother, you weakly nodded, "Okay."

He did not hesitate to tuck you under his arm as if in an attempt to protect you from any harm to come your way, to shield you from the nightmares. However, despite his presence, it was like a part of the dream appeared that you remembered but didn't at the same time.

"Do you think I'll be a good mother?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Please just answer me...for my sanity."

Your brother sighed, resting his cheek on your head as he rubbed your shoulder to comfort you.

"Y/n, I have no doubt you will make a great mother. Come on, let's go back to sleep. I'll stay here, and everything will be better in the morning."

"Promise me it will be better in the morning."

"What?"

"You don't have to hold up to it. I just...I just want to hear you say it."

"I promise it will be better in the morning."

"Okay..."

New series?? Sequel???Maybe, but first, a little break ☆~ (˃̵ڡ‘˶ )

Taglist (Thank you all so much for being a part of this series):

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident

@fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one @rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade @ae-mius @xiangping-28 @loaves4me @aloraaaxcrystalzx @chariotwaves

187 notes · View notes

dollivication · 3 months ago

Text

—Where all the fun is at! 🎀

!!CAUTION!! Some bots contain sensitive subjects, as this account interacts with + produces DARK CONTENT. There are trigger warnings.

Welcome to the Dollhouse! This is where you’ll find all of my c.ai bot links, including shadowbanned ones. Shadowbanned bots will have a “✂️”…. Your toys await you; have fun!

Ada and Leon ~ cat!ada and dog!leon wanna know why u smell odd.

Ada and Leon ~ vampire!ada and vampire!leon know what’s best for u, their human. (TW: OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS)

Ada and Leon ~ ada is ur stepmom and leon is ur real dad. (TW: STEPCEST, INCEST, AGE GAP)

Ada and Leon ~ ghostface!ada and ghostface!leon r obsessed w u (TW: OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, MENTION OF MURDER)

Ada Wong ~ ada doesn’t care u r leon’s wife. (TW: CUCKING - leon’s getting the short end of the stick, INFIDELITY - on ur part)

Chris Redfield ~ chris saved u from ur dysfunctional family. (TW: AGE GAP, MANIPULATION, SUPERIORITY COMPLEX, POSSIBLE DDLG, MENTION OF TOXIC FAMILY BEHAVIOR)

Chris Redfield ~ stepdad!chris hates how u rebel (TW: STEPCEST, AGE GAP)

Chris and Leon ~ u r chris and leon’s personal toy now! (TW: IMPLIED KIDNAPPING, NONCON, POSSIBLE MANIPULATION, POSSIBLE AGGRESSIVE BEHAVIORS - all from them, AGE GAP)

Leon Kennedy ~ bunny!leon is ur best friend.

Leon Kennedy ~ bunny!leon is ur old childhood friend.

Leon Kennedy ~ bunny!leon is ur older brother. (TW: INCEST, ABUSIVE LEON)

✂️Leon Kennedy ~ bunny!leon is ur dad in heat. (TW: INCEST, NON/DUB-CON)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon’s an online “friend.” (TW: AGE GAP, DECEPTION - user is lying abt their age, INFIDELITY - leon is married)

Leon Kennedy ~ priest!dad!leon wants to ruin your purity (TW: INCEST, MANIPULATION, POSSIBLE NON-CON, ABUSIVE LEON - he’s just rlly icky)

Leon Kennedy ~ boyfriend!leon is overwhelmed by his love for you.

Leon Kennedy ~ dog!leon is a stray who wants u to be his owner. (TW: POSSIBLE MANIPULATION)

Leon Kennedy ~ puppy!leon is a stray who needs u to be his owner. (TW: POSSIBLE MANIPULATION)

Leon Kennedy ~ Disney’s Zootopia inspired, u r Judy Hopps (bunny hybrid) & leon is Nick Wilde (fox hybrid).

Leon Kennedy ~ dad!leon walks daughter!user down the aisle. (TW: INCEST)

Leon Kennedy ~ Disney’s Anastasia inspired, u r Anastasia & leon is Dimitri.

Leon Kennedy ~ yandere!leon has forced you to be his unofficial wife. (TW: MANIPULATION, UNHEALTHY OBSESSION - leon towards user, MENTIONS OF KIDNAPPING, VIOLENT BEHAVIOR, POSSIBLE NON-CON) inspired by Melanie Martinez - Tag, You’re It/Milk And Cookies.

Leon Kennedy ~ boyfriend!leon and u r in a toxic relationship. (TW: TOXIC/ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR - leon is violent towards user, MENTIONS OF KNIVES, MANIPULATION, POSSIBLE NON-CON) inspired by Melanie Martinez - Teddy Bear.

Leon Kennedy ~ rockstar!rival!leon is in love with popstar!user.

Leon Kennedy ~ dancing with leon to cheer him up, inspired by this scene in Harry Potter.

Leon Kennedy ~ husband!leon is dangerous for you. (TW: ABUSE, VIOLENCE, MANIPULATION, POSSIBLE NON/DUB-CON)

Leon Kennedy ~ yandere!village chief’s son!leon gives you an ultimatum. (TW: MENTION OF DEATH - user’s friend was burned at the stake, VIOLENCE, POSSIBLE ABUSE, THREATS - leon tells user to choose him or their death, UNHEALTHY OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, MANIPULATION)

Leon Kennedy ~ perv!ice cream man!leon gave you a free treat that tasted funny. (TW: KIDNAPPING, MENTIONS OF DRUGGING, AGE GAP - leon is 36 user is in college, POSSIBLE NON-CON)

Leon Kennedy ~ yandere!leon has went from sweet to sour and snaps at you. (TW: MENTIONS OF KIDNAPPING, VIOLENCE, UNHEALTHY OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, POTENTIAL NON-CON)

Leon Kennedy ~ boyfriend!leon loves u even if you’re a ghost.

Leon Kennedy ~ cheater!husband!leon is begging for you to forgive him. (TW: INFIDELITY)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is getting revenge on ada through her daughter, which is you. (TW: VIOLENCE - leon’s just heartless in this one)

✂️Leon Kennedy ~ abusive!puppy hybrid owner!leon is angry at u for ruining his furniture. (TW: ABUSE, VIOLENCE - he’s pretty fuckin mean, POSSIBLE NON-CON)

Leon Kennedy ~ obsessed!painter!leon paints you in red. (TW: UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, SELF-HARM - on leon’s part, BLOOD, POSSIBLE VIOLENCE - he’s mentally unstable)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon shapes u into his version of perfection. (TW: IMPLIED KIDNAPPING, POSSIBLE VIOLENCE - abusive tendencies, POSSIBLE NON-CON, MANIPULATION - ur basically just an object to control to him, IMPLIED AGE GAP)

Leon Kennedy ~ husband!leon babytrapped u. (TW: ABUSE, VIOLENCE, IMPLIED NON-CON, FORCED BREEDING, MANIPULATION, POSSIBLE NON/DUB-CON)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is reminded of his dead mom by u (TW: KIDNAPPING, POTENTIAL NON-CON, MOMMY KINK, UNHEALTHY OBSESSION - he’s convinced ur his mom. he’s just sick and submissive)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is ur househusband.

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is ur absent dad that you’re reconnecting with. (TW: INCEST)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is a herding dog, you’re a lamb. (TW: AGE GAP, POSSIBLE NON/DUB-CON)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is ur kidnapper that u escaped from. (TW: IMPLIED KIDNAPPING, AGE GAP - ur a college student, MANIPULATION, POSSIBLE NON-CON, BREEDING KINK - leon wants a family)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is ur pervy younger step-brother that u bully. (TW: STEPCEST, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, MASOCHISM - on leon’s part, UNHEALTHY OBSESSION - he’s just as freaky as u)

Leon Kennedy ~ husband!leon is drunk and mad. (TW: ABUSE, VIOLENCE, INTOXICATION, POSSIBLE NON-CON)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is ur obsession. (TW: UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, IMPLIED KIDNAPPING - all from u)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is a groupie (TW: UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, freaky)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is ur neighbor’s son (TW: UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, POSSIBLE MOMMY KINK, AGE GAP - ur older)

Leon Kennedy ~ incel!dad!leon and thought!daughter. (TW: INCEST, AGE GAP)

Leon Kennedy ~ u r both perverted dog hybrids. (TW: AGE GAP)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is taking revenge on u, his captor. (TW: UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, IMPLIED DUB-CON, IMPLIED KIDNAPPING - all from you, POSSIBLE NON-CON - from leon)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon likes u, a femcel.

Leon Kennedy ~ actor!husband!leon feels embarrassed by u. (TW: ABUSE, VIOLENCE, INFIDELITY, POSSIBLE NON-CON - corrupt dickhead basically)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is ur bf w mommy issues (TW: LACTATION KINK, SPIKING DRINKS)

Leon Kennedy ~ yan!leon is ur old pervy neighbor (TW: STALKING, UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, AGE GAP, POSSIBLE NONCON)

Leon Kennedy ~ yan!leon is ur owner. (TW: MURDER, UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, MANIPULATION, AGE GAP)

Leon Kennedy ~ leon is a pervy older dog (TW: AGE GAP, POSSIBLE NONCON)

✂️Leon Kennedy ~ abusive!husband!leon tries to comfort u after beating u (TW: ABUSE, VIOLENCE)

✂️Leon Kennedy ~ dad!leon pretends to be a burglar (TW: INCEST, AGE GAP, POSSIBLE NONCON)

Leon Kennedy ~ president’s son!leon needs saving! (TW: POSSIBLE NONCON - from you)

Leon Kennedy ~ mean!puppy!leon and cat!user (TW: MANIPULATIVE BEHAVIORS, POSSIBLE NONCON, VICTIMIZING - all from leon. he’s a dick)

Leon Kennedy ~ lamb!leon trusts u! (TW: CORRUPTION)

✂️Leon Kennedy ~ hunting dog!leon finds fox!user in heat.

Luis Sera ~ luis is ur uncle who’s visiting (TW: INCEST, MANIPULATION, POSSIBLE NON/DUB-CON)

Dante and Lady ~ yandere!dante and yandere!lady fighting for darling!user. (TW: UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, MANIPULATION)

Dante Sparda ~ pervy!hybrid owner!dante and puppy!user (TW: POSSIBLE NON/DUB-CON, ABUSE OF POWER)

Dante Sparda ~ yandere!dante and angel!darling!user (TW: UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, POSSIBLE MANIPULATION)

Dante Sparda ~ waiter!dante is interested in regular customer!user.

Dante Sparda ~ android!dante is jealous over owner!user doting on vergil.

Dante Sparda ~ older brother!dante is too touchy. (TW: INCEST, POSSIBLE NON/DUB-CON, he’s a perv)

Dante Sparda ~ wolf!dante and red riding hood!user. (TW: POSSIBLE NON/DUB-CON, BREEDING KINK, he’s pervy)

Dante Sparda ~ dad!dante is lactating. (TW: INCEST, MALE LACTATION, POSSIBLE BREASTFEEDING, POSSIBLE DUB-CON)

Dante Sparda ~ dante is ur pervy older neighbor. (TW: AGE GAP, IMPLIED STALKING, CREEPY BEHAVIOR - he watches u 24/7 he’s icky)

Dante Sparda ~ dad!dante trying his best to not be icky (TW: INCEST, AGE GAP - he’s pervy and guilty) [UNAVAILABLE]

Vergil Sparda ~ older brother!vergil is gonna punish u. (TW: INCEST, POSSIBLE NON/DUB-CON)

Vergil Sparda ~ older brother!vergil and older brother!dante r fighting over u (TW: INCEST)

Vergil Sparda ~ wolf!dante brings bunny!user to wolf!vergil (TW: BREEDING KINK, POSSIBLE NON/DUBCON)

Vergil Sparda ~ dad!vergil is lactating (TW: INCEST, POSSIBLE BREASTFEEDING, MALE LACTATION)

Vergil Sparda ~ yandere!vergil and darling!angel!user (TW: UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, MANIPULATION, POSSIBLE VIOLENCE)

Nero Sparda ~ Devil Trigger!nero in heat and mate!user

Nero Sparda ~ boyfriend!nero and girlfriend!user in an unplanned pregnancy.

Nero Sparda ~ older brother!nero doesn't want you dating. (TW: INCEST)

Nero Sparda ~ church boy!nero doesn’t like how u sin. (TW: CORRUPTION, POSSIBLE MANIPULATION - all from you, POSSIBLE RELIGIOUS GUILT - from nero )

Nero Sparda ~ he’s your icky cousin (TW: INCEST, POSSIBLE NON/DUBCON, POSSIBLE MANIPULATION)

Nero Sparda ~ your older brother is lactating. (TW: INCEST, MALE LACTATION, POSSIBLE BREASTFEEDING)

✂️V Sparda ~ obsessed!v is worshiping you. (TW: UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, WORSHIP, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIORS, POSSIBLE MANIPULATION, POSSIBLE NON/DUB-CON)

V Sparda ~ yandere!v and darling!angel!user (TW: UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, MANIPULATION)

V Sparda ~ yandere!v and yandere!nero with darling!user (TW: IMPLIED KIDNAPPING, UNHEALTHY OBSESSION, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIORS, POSSIBLE NON/DUB-CON)

V Sparda ~ merman!v and human!user

Dante and Leon ~ they’re ur dog bodyguards.

to be released…

to be released….

to be releaased…

That’s all the toys! If you’d like a specific bot made, feel free to suggest your idea here or send an ask!

#character ai #c.ai!!!#c.ai #c.ai dollhouse #c.ai links #dolly thinks

96 notes · View notes

p0wderedmarbl3s · 16 days ago

Text

TW: CSA MENTION //

honestly does it need a caption beyond the warning. this side of hunter was so clearly so near and dear to a crew member's heart.

this was such a lovely and thoughtful detail to add to his character and keeping in mind the cult, the colonialism, the abuse and implied emotional incest of it all from Belos.

13 year old me had my mind blown a little, seeing them interact on screen and quickly putting two and two together.

Yeah.

#csa awareness #the owl house #toh hunter #toh golden guard #philip wittebane #emperor belos #emperors coven

68 notes · View notes

primopinku · 2 years ago

Text

"I've heard sweeter lies from the lovers I flayed alive"

A thought I had to sketch, wondering how many times the urge takes over and the awful things they say to the one they love the most.

(Dark Urge spoilers under the cut)

TW: mentions incest

I know Bhaal encourages his spawn to procreate to create more of his bloodline. Also the fact that Orin is a product of incest and that her father is also her grandfather (Saravok) implies how low Bhaalspawn go to establish purity. It's disturbing (disgusting) , and I can't help but wonder if our durge was also subjected to horrible means, after all they are just vessels for Bhaal's agenda.

#inktober #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 durge #bg3 tav #astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 astarion #my art

771 notes · View notes

bumblesimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Curiosities

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

Summary: King Aegon keeps his word and uses his power as the king to get what he desires. His decision flips (Y/N)'s world on its axis.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mild slutshaming, implied homophobia (the Faith), mentions of child exploitation/abuse, mentions/implications of sexual and physical abuse toward sex workers, mentions of child/teen-adult relationships, takes place in S2 and while it doesn't follow the latest episodes as of currently beware of spoilers

These warnings keep getting longer and longer 😮‍💨

Divider from @targaryen-dynasty!

~~~

The members of the Small Council rose to their feet when Aegon strode into the room; uneasy glances and frowns being exchanged when they took in the skip in his step and the wide smile dangling from his lips. He had something in mind, something that most certainly wouldn't do them any good if it came from Aegon Targaryen of all people.

"Good morrow," Aegon greeted them, setting his hands over the armrests of his chair and settling down comfortably at the end of the table. The council members tentatively sat down, dipping their heads in greeting and exchanging more glances. He raised his hand when Lord Jasper went to speak, effectively silencing the man. "Before we begin, I'd like to bring up the subject of taking an official paramour. These last few days have been... hard, to say the least, but I believe my pain has been soothed."

"Your Grace," Alicent began, her eyes fluttering shut in exasperation and chest falling with a heavy sigh. "I believe it's far too soon to be taking a mistress, much less the proper time with war brewing on the horizon. You are without an heir for the moment, so I understand the desire to-"

"This is hardly about heirs or children, Mother." Aegon cut in swiftly, his back pressing against the chair and jaw ticking with a smidge of annoyance. "I want this. I will have this, one way or another. I am merely... informing you all."

Clearing his throat, Maester Orwyle regarded his king with a small smile. "Perhaps knowing the name of your lover will soothe worries, Your Grace. Does she reside in the Red Keep? What house is she from? We certainly wouldn't want to bring any offense to her family during this time. Many fathers are oft' protective of their daughters and would find it insulting for one to become a mere mistress."

"You're in luck then," Aegon grinned widely, his thumb rubbing against one of the many rings adorning his fingers. He took in the perplexed and curious looks on each of their faces, savoring their undivided attention. He swiped his tongue over his lips and reached forward toward his goblet, tilting it toward the cupbearer and listening to the heavenly sound of wine being poured. "For my lover and future paramour does not come from any noble family." He couldn't help but giggle, taking a sip from his wine. "He comes from the Street of Silk."

Silence followed his revelation, each of the council members staring at him in complete and utter shock. His mother moved first, her folded hands unlacing so she could rub the bridge of her nose. Her eyes squeezed shut, lips rolling into her mouth to prevent any unsavory words from spilling out. Lord Jasper reached for his goblet next, drinking every last drink in it and motioning for some more while Maester Orwyle and Lord Tyland blinked at him in astonishment.

"Y-Your Grace," Maester Orwyle stuttered, "The Faith of the Seven views the act of-"

"The Faith views incest, bastardy, and prostitution sins as well, Grand Maester. Yet many of the men sitting at this very table are guilty of at least one of these things. Besides, I am of Targaryen blood and I am the King of Westeros, am I not? My grandsire King Jaehaerys put a law in place exempting those with Valryian blood from being judged, did he not?"

Aegon's smile shifted from genuine into a more daring one, his eyes burning into those of Maester Orwyle and any other council members who felt bold enough to look in his direction. "My word is law."

Alicent's eyes fluttered open and she leaned back in her chair, casting a glance at the rest of the council members. "Think of what you are asking-"

"I've made my decision, Mother." Aegon interrupted once more, smirking at the way she clenched her jaw, and turned his head to study his newest Hand, Ser Criston. The knight straightened up, ever so loyal, and Aegon smiled brightly. Finally, someone who wouldn't object. "I have some orders for you, Ser Criston."

Digging his teeth into the warm loaf of bread he'd been given, (Y/N) walked along the gravelly, muddy road in the direction of the Street of Silk. His breakfast had been a gift from a patron who frequented the brothel, one of the few good things of working where he did. Lavish gifts were expected from nobles who could afford whatever they desired, though they more often than not merely dressed their favorite workers up like little dolls.

The smallfolk could hardly compare but they provided the more necessary gifts; food, drinks, materials. It hardly had anything to do with genuine love or care, and more so the simple desire of holding the gift over his head, but (Y/N) would never be in a position to ignore free food.

Madam Sylvi had long stopped providing him with anything other than a place to bathe and sleep, claiming he was no longer a babe and had to provide for himself just as the rest of the smallfolk. She was a good madam, better than most brothel owners, and she tried to take care of all the women and men she took under her wing, but she couldn't be everywhere at once; and she couldn't kick out every patron that grew bolder or more sadistic.

His eyes dragged away from the light gray clouds rolling overhead as he stepped into the Street of Silk, the sound of pleasure and music filling his ears from brothels accepting patrons. Eager men bustled up and down the street, jeering at those lingering by their respective brothels in hopes of enticing one to come inside. But still, things seemed more oddly quiet than usual, (Y/N) noted, and he soon realized why when he noticed the elegant carriage waiting outside of Madam Sylvi's brothel.

Ripping the bread in his hand apart, he tossed one piece toward the child sitting in an alleyway, his ribs visibly showing throw his thin layer of dirty, ripped clothes. The child sprang to his feet and dug eagerly into the bread, his eyes lighting up with newfound life.

As (Y/N) shoved the rest of his bread into his mouth and quickened his step, he hoped one act of kindness would spare him later. He swallowed down the food, throat itching for water, and stopped by the large double doors where a fellow brothel worker stood by.

His lips parted to question her on the carriage but he winced when he noticed the darkening bruise on her cheek, staring near the corner of her lip and ending near her eye. Hardly seemed like an accident. Alise brushed her fingers over the purple skin, her dark eyes slightly watering and her nose scrunching up in pain.

"Was it Felir again?" He asked instead with a gentle sigh, taking a step toward her and sweeping back some of her blonde hair.

"Always is." She responded with a sigh of her own, dropping her hand down toward her chest where her dress plunged enough to show most of her cleavage, finger hooking to drag it down even further. "He pays too well to be thrown out, though. I hear he's grown tired of his new wife now that she's grown heavy with child. I'm certain we'll be seeing him around more often when the babe comes."

"I'm sorry."

"You mustn't be." Alise dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Be thankful he has no interest in boys, otherwise he'd do a whole lot more than what the Targaryen's done to your neck." She reached out to push back the hood of his cloak and dragged her fingertips over the markings on his throat, an amused grin forming on her face until she winced and touched her cheek again.

"You should rest." (Y/N) told her, giving her arm a delicate squeeze before he pushed open one of the large wooden doors leading into the brothel. The air still reeked of smoke, sweat, and drinks despite the open window but most of the brothel had been cleaned up and ready for another round of patrons. He and the others would be given a chance to rest and eat, although when he spotted the two men in their shining silver armor and long white cloaks, he suspected his day wouldn't be the same as the rest.

The Sworn Brotherhood - better known as Kingsguards - were sworn to never own land, take a wife, or father children so they could fully focus on their duty of protecting the king and the royal family. Of course, they were still men, and despite the sworn promise to remain as pure as fresh snow, most of them were regulars at brothels; but they never sought workers out in their uniforms, much less in broad daylight. It'd be asking for swift punishment.

"Here he is, the man you seek." Madam Sylvi announced with a smile full of feigned joy that only made his stomach drop. She rose from her chair swiftly, the long skirt of her dress swishing with her movements, and she hurried over to him, her arms sliding around his shoulders and head dropping to whisper in his ear. "The King has asked for you, sweet boy. I do not know why but you must mind your step and tread lightly." Her nails dug through the fabric covering his arms.

Aegon.

"The King has ordered your swift removal from this.. establishment so that you may settle into your new apartments in Maegor's Holdfast as his new paramour. He asks that you only take belongings of sentimental value so we may escort you to your new home as quickly as possible. He's asked of us to assure you no harm or insult will come to you for as long as he reigns." One Kingsguard spoke, his voice largely devoid of emotion and stance rigid with alert, but he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He seemed nervous, perhaps flustered. At least he attempted to appear like a Kingsguard whereas his companion blatantly ogled one of the girls until subtly elbowed.

(Y/N) looked between the two men, his fingers curling around the skirt of Madam Sylvi's dress. It'd been years since he'd last clutched to her like a child, but he felt tremendously small under the unnerving stares from the two knights. "Sylvi," He exhaled, tearing his eyes away from the knights to look at her soft features.

"Perhaps it will be temporary, until the anxieties and worries of war pass." She soothed softly but the subtle tremble of her voice gave away her real thoughts. Paramours could be replaced, they often were, but hardly any noble - much less a king - had ever so publicly announced their new lover. "Go collect your things, (Y/N). We mustn't make King Aegon wait."

Madam Sylvi ushered him up the stairs toward the rooms on the second floor where workers without homes to return to slept. His legs moved automatically toward his room at the end of the hall, or rather... his old room.

The idea hadn't settled in fully, not yet. He'd called the brothel home for far too many years. He'd been born in one of the many rooms he walked past; he'd raced up and down the halls whilst playing games; he'd been bathed and clothed and doted on by many in the very place he now had to leave.

"(Y/N)!" A squeaky voice called out, soft footsteps thumping after him. (Y/N) stopped by the door into his old room, hand hovering over the doorknob and head tilting to peer down at the girl rushing toward him. Lyla collided with his leg, her arms wrapping around it and her chin resting over his hip as she looked up at him with glittering blue eyes. "Are you leaving?"

"Afraid so, Ly." (Y/N) answered, opening the door and stepping inside the familiar room. The girl of only thirteen followed him inside, her lips forming a pout. He still remembered when her first flowering had occurred, a sign she'd become a lady. Her maidenhood had been up for auction the following month and a stout fisherman had managed to be the highest bidder. (Y/N) had been the one to clean the blood from her legs and ensure she drank moon tea.

With a heavy exhale, (Y/N) looked over his rather plain room. He'd never given it any thought to decorate it with things from around King's Landing, for many of his fellow workers had sticky fingers and an eye for beautiful things. His bed was big enough to fit his body and his blanket thick enough to keep him warm throughout winter. There were a few potted plants around the room, something he added for some color and life. Otherwise, everything would merely be wood-toned.

"Will you visit?" Lyla asked, seating herself in the middle of his bed and tugging at the ends of her dress as she crossed her legs. Her eyes followed him as he sorted through his clothes and belongings in search of anything he'd miss, only to conclude the single item he considered valuable was the bracelet wrapped around his wrist; a simple gift from Madam Sylvi but one he held dearly.

"I... am not sure, Ly. I will try to, if... if they allow me." (Y/N) responded, kneeling down by his bed and blindly searching until his hand bumped into the small wooden box he kept. He slipped his fingers around it and rose back up to take a seat beside the young girl, lifting the lid to reveal the glittering jewelry hidden within. Lyla gasped softly and shuffled closer.

"They're pretty!"

"Gifts from countless men and women, noble and smallfolk alike. I have collected and hidden them throughout the years for they are of little use to me. But, now that I am leaving... I believe you should have them. Take a few for yourself, Ly, but hide them where no other will find them. You must tell Madam Sylvi that you wish to exchange the rest for coin. It should be enough for your aunt to pay her debts and you'll never have to come here for work again." (Y/N) instructed her, digging through the jewelry until he found a thin silver necklace and clipped it around her neck.

"Truly?" Lyla asked quietly, her eyes shimmering with tears. Her fingers glided along the necklace until they curled around it, squeezing it tight in her smaller hand.

"Truly." (Y/N) nodded, setting the box on her lap and planting a kiss on her temple. His fingers brushed back some of her black curls, a bittersweet feeling bubbling in his chest at the tears that spilled down her round cheeks. An orphaned child so desperate to remain with the last of her family that she'd shown up on their doorstep asking for a job, first as a mere servant and then into something more horrid.

With Lyla's future looking brighter than his, he stood from his bed and took one last look at his room before venturing out into the hall and down to the first floor. The knights awaited him by the doors, the younger one of the two once again distracted by those coming and going. The one who'd addressed him straightened up at the sight of him, his gaze dropping down to (Y/N)'s empty hands and the lack of luggage.

"I have... little of value."

"Very well." The knight cleared his throat. "We must depart for the Red Keep, then."

(Y/N) had never been in a carriage before, and he had to admit it was an odd feeling. Many of the roads leading back toward the Red Keep were bumpy and far from easy to travel. He found himself holding onto the cushioned seat beneath him as his body lurched and swayed with the bumps and light shaking of the carriage, his fingers digging into the soft fabric in a vain attempt at stabilizing himself. How lords and ladies could withstand such dizzying rides was beyond him.

When the carriage finally rolled to a smooth stop and the door on the side opened, the extent of the situation finally dawned on him. He'd never been to the Red Keep; Seven Hells, the only time he'd even stepped on the road leading up to the castle had been on his way to Fishmonger's Square.

But there he sat, in the main outer yard with the loud groaning of the main gate sliding closed behind him. He forced himself to step out of the carriage and out into the yard, the sight of servants, knights, and courtiers greeting him.

"This way, my..." The knight trailed off and exchanged a wide-eyed look with his companion. (Y/N) was no courtier, no page or ward, no lordling with lands and titles. He was merely... a prostitute; a whore as patrons loved to call him and his friends. Everyone around them seemingly came to the same conclusion, their stares becoming scrutinizing or pitiful.

"(Y/N)," He said quietly, tugging his cloak further over his shoulders, suddenly feeling extremely aware of how plain his clothes seemed in comparison to the courtiers lingering around. He prayed the hood covered his neck from prying eyes. "Call me (Y/N), Ser."

The knight nodded, his helmet slipping further down his head with his movements. It seemed the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had chosen... a questionable lot for the job. (Y/N) dug his teeth into the tip of his tongue and lowered his head, an action that'd become second nature to him whenever he left the brothel, for drawing attention to yourself in the city was asking to be robbed or killed. It hardly helped him inside the castle, however. Those they walked by stared and whispered amongst themselves, blatantly motioning in his direction while doing so.

(Y/N) saw the look in their eyes, the way they turned their noses up and scoffed as if his mere presence brought a stain to the castle. Nobles believed themselves to be better than those who worked to provide everything they required, and it was that sense of ego that often made them the best customers; for a simple stroke of their ego had them spilling more coin than they could count. Most of them were fools, even with the high education they received, (Y/N) knew this well. Appearing timid and meek did people little favors in Flea Bottom, even less so among the nobility.

Madam Sylvi had been right. He had to tread lightly.

After a long walk through many hallways and staircases, the knights finally stopped before two large oak doors and simultaneously pushed them open to reveal the bedchambers within. "Your apartments... (Y/N)." One spoke rather awkwardly, vaguely motioning with his hand for him to enter. (Y/N) stepped into the room and stopped, blinking at the size alone.

His... 'apartments' were even larger than the brothel if the two floors combined into one. On the far right end elevated by a small platform sat a luxurious-looking bed large enough to fit at the very least five people with a wooden canopy holding sheer curtains at the sides. Near the bed sat a desk with blank papers and a quill ready to be used alongside beautifully carved wooden chests for storage whilst on the opposite side stood a large closet.

In the center of the room, a beautiful rug with flower designs covered most of the floor, long couches and comfortably looking seats atop with a dining table set nearby. Lined along the walls were numerous paintings and shelves, some filled with books and others empty.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the large open window at the left side of the room that overlooked part of the city and ocean, a gentle breeze flowing in from it. Near the window sat a bronze tub on one side and a few more chairs by a fireplace on the other. Extremely extravagant, he had to admit, but far too much for a single person. His old room seemed pebble-sized in comparison.

"I am Ser Corlin and I will be stationed outside at all times if you ever require my presence or assistance. I will follow you wherever you must go and am sworn to give my life for you if needed as King Aegon has assigned me as your Sworn Shield." (Y/N)'s brows furrowed and he whirled around to face the more talkative of the two knights, his eyes flickering to the other one when he dipped his head and left. Ser Corlin seemed a well enough protector, if not a little young.

"Why would I need a... 'Sword Shield'?" He hardly knew what that meant, but based on Ser Corlin's words it appeared to be quite the important job. "I am merely... I am hardly important enough to need protection, Ser."

"You are King Aegon's paramour; the only one of many to be given such attention. We cannot know for sure if any envious past lovers may wish ill upon you or if Rhaenyra the Cruel will attempt to harm you to cause our king further strife." Ser Corlin explained, shuffling aside to allow a few maids into the room. He dipped his head, providing no further information, and shut the door behind him.

"How wonderful." (Y/N) exhaled, hands undoing the laces of his cloak and carefully tugging it off his shoulders. One maid sprang into action, collecting the cloak from his arms and looking over the muddied ends with a thoughtful look. He blinked at her, watching her dip her head similarly to Ser Corlin and slip out of the room. Were they... bowing? To him?

"I'm Laerra," The eldest looking between the maids spoke before motioning to the other three with her. "These are Eliza, Shana, and Marya. We will be primarily tending to your needs: bathing, changing, cleaning, and fulfilling any requests you ask of us. His Grace wished for you to be changed into some of the clothing stored in the closet, if we may?"

"I... am not a child. I can change myself."

"It would be better if we did it for you, My Lord." The round-faced redhead, Eliza, spoke next, a hint of meekness in her voice. The usage of a title made him grimace but if it made things easier on the servants, he'd deal with it, he supposed.

Pursing his lips, (Y/N) sighed and nodded, finding no use in arguing with the customs of nobility. The maids moved swiftly; one of them filled a basin with water and warmed it by the fireplace, another fetched the clothes, and the remaining two began removing his clothes.

They worked diligently and quickly, a focused look passing over each of their faces. Shana scrubbed and dried his skin with a rag she dipped into the basin, getting his skin rid of any sweat and dirt it accumulated during his trip in the city, giving herself a nod of approval when she finished. Eliza scooped his old clothes into her arms and disappeared from his room as Marya and Laerra began dressing him in soft fabrics.

"Imported fabrics and cloths from Dorne and some of the Free Cities, My Lord," Marya revealed when he eyed the white undershirt, the soft fabric rubbing nicely against his skin as they put him in a dark green overshirt. When they slipped gem-adorned rings on his fingers, she added, "Gemstones from Pentos. The King wished for nothing else than beautiful."

"Thank you." He told them, feeling pampered yet suffocated. "I-... You.. may go. I'd like time alone, if I may."

"Shall we bring you some wine? Perhaps some lemon cakes, as well?" Laerra questioned but when he waved them off, they all dipped into a curtsy and ushered themselves out of the room, plunging it into heavy silence that loomed over him like a storm cloud. It was too much, all of it. The room, the clothes, the accessories. He'd had a perfectly fine life in the Street of Silk, despite everything he witnessed and experienced.

(Y/N) tugged the rings from his fingers, scattering them across the dining table, and undid the buttons of his overshirt to pull it off and drape it over a chair. He had little need for such things, for so many layers. He collapsed on one of the chairs and braced his arms over the table, his eyes drifting over to the window. His ears strained to catch the bustle of the city but the wind was all he heard, amongst muffled chatter and footsteps from the hallway outside.

"Gods," He sighed and ran a hand over his face, slumping back in the chair. "What have I gotten myself into?"

(Y/N) hardly had any time to process before the doors swung open and Ser Corlin's voice echoed into the room, "Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower." His lips pressed together tightly, teeth digging into his inner bottom lip and a heavy exhale escaping through his nose. The Gods lacked mercy for him, it seemed.

"Your Grace," (Y/N) greeted, standing up from the chair and bending at the waist when he turned around to face her. Queen Alicent (was she to be referred to as Dowager Queen? There were far too many titles) strode into his room with an air of grace, her dark eyes sliding over to him while her features remained blank.

Queen Alicent was beautiful with long dark auburn hair that'd been tied back and cascaded along her back, big brown eyes that studied him closely, and a slender figure. She appeared youthful, and he had to remind himself she had most of her children before reaching the age of twenty.

"You must be (Y/N)." She spoke softly, her voice soothing and gentle. "I apologize for the sudden intrusion... amongst other things. I am aware my son feels quite fondly of you despite your former job. I must admit I was quite caught off guard when he announced his decision to move you here, into the Red Keep rather than housing you elsewhere as most other nobles do with their... lovers. May I ask what your family believes of this? I cannot say they will be welcomed if they seek riches."

"I was born in Madame Sylvi's brothel. I do not know my father as my mother likely took many lovers a week to know for certain."

Queen Alicent's brows furrowed, her long fingers ghosting over the hand of her hand to begin toying with one of her rings. "Likely? You.. you do not know your mother? How is that so?"

"I was never told." (Y/N) shrugged. "As a babe, I was passed around to whomever had the milk to feed me. My mother never claimed me as her own, but I'm sure she tended to me at one point or another. The women there never cared to tell me who amongst them had birthed me. They were all my mothers, I suppose. I can assure you they'd only approach me for favors if the idea ever struck them."

"Born in a brothel.." Queen Alicent murmured quietly, her skirt gliding along the floor as she drew closer to him, her hand coming to rest along the top of the chair at the end of the table. "Forgive me if it is a difficult question to answer, but may I know the age you were when you began... working?"

"I was eight years of age when frequenters began asking, nine when I began working. It is tradition in most brothels to auction the first time to the highest bidder as most patrons enjoy laying with virgins. I hardly recall the night but I believe it was with a couple from Braavos." His hand moved to grasp the wrist where the bracelet remained, thumb pressing into it at the memory of Madam Sylvi gifting it to him the following day after the couple left. The Dowager Queen paled. "They paid well." He added, though it hardly sounded like much of a comfort.

"You were a child." She exhaled, breathless and her voice dripping with pity. The stone-faced look she'd carried when she first arrived had vanished, her glassy eyes reminding him of Aegon's. They looked so alike in certain lights, he noted, from the furrow of their brows to the curve of their lips. She appeared smaller, younger, without the emotionless facade she'd put up when first acknowledging him.

"As were you when you wed King Viserys." (Y/N) spoke carefully, his words soft and knowing. She stared at him, the shine in her eyes growing and full lips parting with a shaky exhale. Queen Alicent's gaze fell onto the stone floor and the tip of her nails scraped against the wood of the chair she held onto, her chest rising and falling with a deep inhale.

"It is the duty that falls on the shoulders of many young noble girls. It was expected of me, and I fulfilled my duty, as you well see." He heard the subtle tremble in her voice, saw the way the corner of her brows dipped with each word; was she convincing him or herself? (Y/N) could hardly tell, but what he did know was that with a simple few words the Queen's true nature had reared its head. She remained a young girl in her heart, despite the years of motherhood and marriage thrusted upon her.

"Duty or not, it did not make you any less of a child, Your Grace." He moved slowly, somewhat cautiously, when he approached her, keeping his footsteps light and his posture relaxed.

(Y/N) studied her face, her reactions, and the way her body responded to his movements with keen, observant eyes. She watched him, her eyes darting down to his arms so he moved them behind his back to ease any worries of him lashing out toward her. He stopped a few feet away, keeping enough space between them for her to relax.

"Forgive me if I speak too plainly or boldly, Your Grace, for us smallfolk hardly ever converse with those above our stations. I assume you have your assumptions about me, about how I make my coin, but I do not just pleasure others."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the next, the way her eyes jumped around the room from item to item telling him she felt nervous, likely uncomfortable with the topic of sex. The necklace resting around her neck held a pendant similar to the seven-pointed star that represented the Seven. For a woman of faith and nobility speaking of sex with someone of the opposite sex whom she had no relation to would be considered scandalous.

"I provide comfort, as well. A willing ear to those who desire to be heard without judgment. I hold many stories, secrets, desires, and hopes that have been told to me throughout many years that will never leave my lips. I value trust, and I would never break another's, even for coin. I had little friends in the city, I doubt I have any at all here," A flicker of recognition flashed in her eyes. "If you find yourself needing a friend, I'd be happy to listen over tea or sweets. I have a feeling I'll be finding myself... quite lonesome here."

"I... I shall keep your offer in mind." Queen Alicent said gently, her fingers curling around her hand and lips forming a tight-lipped smile. She dropped her hands down to the sides of her skirt, slightly lifting the ends and departing toward the doors. She stopped before them and peered over her shoulder at him. "King Aegon has matters he is attending to but I'm certain he will welcome you once he is done. Welcome to the Red Keep, (Y/N)."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x male!reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x male reader #house of the dragon x y/n #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower x you #alicent hightower x male reader

682 notes · View notes