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j-k-writes · 1 month ago

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Winter's Summer

Summary - At the request of the King, Y/N Mormont begrudingly travels to Kingslanding. Against all odds, he finds a place for himself in the Red Keep between the young Princess Rhaenyra and the Lady Alicent.

Warnings - General HOTD warnings

Rickard Mormont was a bear of a man.

Perhaps fitting considering his title as the Lord of Bear Island.

He was big and burly, standing taller than almost every other man on Bear Island. Their house’s sword, Longclaw, looked like a child’s training sword hanging off of Rickard’s belt. His beard, once black as coal, had turned white as snow in his older years. But no one would dare call the man a grey beard in his presence, least of all his son.

Rickard Mormont was not a man one simply told no.

“No.”

“I am not asking.” Rickard didn’t even look up from the parchment in his hands as he spoke. He was used to his son’s defiance, having dealt with it for seventeen years and two moons, even as a babe that heir to Bear Island had the stubbornness of a proper Northener.

Which is why– “I will not be going South.”

“Yes, you will,” Rickard spoke evenly. “The King himself requested it.”

“I do not care what that Southron-”

That caused Rickard to finally look up from whatever he was reading, and he leveled a glare at his heir. A glare that would’ve caused the defiance in anyone else to wither away to nothingness. “Watch your tongue.”

“Why should I?”

“Because in the North, such talk may be common, but it is treason to speak of your King in such a way in the South.”

“I am not afraid of Southeners.” Y/N scoffed. “And I am not going South.”

He was packed and sent on his way, not even a full moon later.

With his most important belongings packed away safely and half the household guard following alongside, Y/N Mormont set sail for Kingslanding against his earnest wishes. They were to sail around the North, past the Iron Islands, to Lannisport and then take the Gold Road all the way to Kingslanding.

Y/N had fought his father on the direction of their journey, preferring to take the long King's Road through the North, Vale, and Riverlands than go through the Golden Tooth. But like before, his father had won the argument by simply being his father. It was the shorter journey after all.

Halfway through the journey to Lannisport, Y/N considered jumping into the sea and swimming back to Bear Island himself. But on looking at the Iron Island on the horizon and the ice-cold waters below, had him skulking back to his quarters.

His mood doesn’t improve once they reach land, in fact, as they get closer and closer to Kingslanding, his mood worsens and worsens. He spends his time at the back of the traveling party with his household guard, trying their very best to lighten his sour mood. Their attempts are squandered, however, by their equally fervent attempts at keeping him on the Gold Road and preventing him from returning to Lannisport and sailing home.

As the silhouette and the smell of Kingslanding get closer, his only hope relies on his personality.

While the blood of the First Men coursed through the veins of every proper Northener, his father (lovingly) and their household staff (not so lovingly) liked the joke that it ran through Y/N just a tad bit more. He knew they called him Bear Island’s very own wildling when his back was turned.

He knew it was a joke, a jab at his habit of doing what he wanted when he wanted and his preference for the Northern style of living. But to the people of Kingslanding, the heir of Bear Island may as well be well and truly wild. And he hoped to use their ignorance to his advantage.

The sun bore down on them as they arrived at the infamous Red Keep. Y/N found himself squinting against the harsh rays as he took in his surroundings. The keep was massive and probably cost the crown more money to build than Bear Island made in an entire season.

The King was surrounded by guards dressed in white. Kingsgaurd Y/N’s brain supplied him. Next to him was a short girl with striking white hair that matched his, the Princess Rhaenyra. Both watched as Y/N dismounted and approached the steps to the keep. His household guard hurried in their dismounting, hurriedly passing the horses of the stable boys, to follow their Lord’s heir.

The King was smiling as he approached.

“Welcome Y/N Mormont.” He said with a cheeriness that made Y/N nauseous. “We are honored to have you as a guest.”

Y/N was proud to be a Mormont. More proud to be a Mormont than he was to be a Northener. But even he knew that despite their reputation in the North, House Mormont was one of the poorer houses in Westeros. Certainly not respectable enough to warrant a summons from the royal family, let alone a warm greeting from the King himself. If he were trying to garner favor with the Northern Houses, he’d be better off welcoming Lord Stark’s heir than Lord Mormont’s.

The elder man standing to the left of the king certainly seemed to agree, as he rolled his eyes at the King’s greeting. The girl, about the same age as the Princess, watched Y/N fearfully, as if he would start foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal at any moment.

“Your Grace.” Y/N said, inclining his head in a faux bow.

The people around the King tensed at the disrespect coming from the Northener, but the King simply smiled brighter.

“Come. Let me show you around.”

The Red Keep could fit four Mormont Keeps within it, perhaps more. It was the largest building Y/N had ever set his eyes on. He tried to keep the astonishment off his face as the King walked with him, giving him a personal tour of the keep, but he failed as, not halfway through the tour, Rhaenyra approached him, the brown haired girl who had been watching him fearfully before, on her arm.

“It is rather obscene, is it not?” Rhaneyra asked, smiling up at the Northener while her friend watched the two warily.

“The amount of gold it took to build this Keep could help Bear Island survive ten years of winter,” Y/N responded, tearing his attention away from where the King was yammering on. Rhaenyra hummed at the response, raking her eyes over his body.

The brown haired girl also took in his appearance, her brown eyes reminded him of a startled doe as they made eye contact, and she averted her gaze to where the King was pointing at a tapestry on the wall.

“I was surprised you came.” Rhaenyra said. “Northeners don’t often fare well in the South.”

“Nor do Southeners in the North.” Y/N bit back. The response made Rhaenyra smile. Her smile was one fit for a lady of her status. Straight white teeth that curled up into a blinding smile with twinkling eyes. The women of Bear Island were fighters, tall and built with muscle that helped them survive the harsh demands of the Island. Rhaenyra and her brown haired friend were the complete opposite. Small and dainty in ways that Y/N wasn’t used to. “Do not worry. I do not plan on staying long, Princess.”

“I wasn’t worried.” With that, she and her friend walked away. Rhaenyra paused a few steps away, releasing her friend's arm and walking back to where Y/N was. She leaned in close to whisper, “You are welcome to stay as long as you wish, Y/N. I think we Southerners have a lot to learn about the North.”

She hurried back to where her brown haired friend was watching the two teens interact. She took her arm again and caught her father’s stride. Y/N found himself smiling at the Princess’ statement, perhaps the trip South would be worth the hassle after all.

Y/N’s plan was not working.

Two weeks he’d been in Kingslanding. Two weeks of behaving like a Southerner's worst fear of what a Northerner was, and two weeks of continuing to be welcome in the Red Keep. The other courtiers found him disgraceful and annoying, especially the King’s Hand, Otto Hightower; this much he knew for sure.

They sent him looks that didn’t even bother to hide their contempt for the young man, and whispered behind his back. But none of that was enough for the King to send him on his way back to Bear Island. In fact, the King seemed delighted by his antics. He encouraged the young man’s “northernness” if that was even a phrase one could use. And with the King’s approval, no one dared say anything about Y/N’s antics to his face.

It was starting to wear on the teen.

He could not leave Kingslanding while he still had the King’s favor. But the only thing on his mind during the two weeks of his stay has been leaving the godforsaken Red Keep.

Well that was not the only thing on his mind.

The Princess Rhaenyra and her friend the Lady Alicent also occupied his thoughts more than he’d like to admit.

The Princess Rhaenyra was nothing like he expected her to be. She may look like a dainty southern beauty, but behind the jewelry and the silk dresses, she was anything but. She quickly grew attached to the Northern boy, dragging him around the keep simply to hear his stories about Bear Island. She joined him in the training yard, as a spectator, almost every morning, introducing him to Harwin Strong, another man with the blood of the First Men running through his veins.

(Y/N quite liked Harwin. He wasn’t a northerner, but he was close enough that accompanying him in training reminded Y/N of his training on Bear Island in the Mormont Keep. It helped that the man fit the part of a Northerner from Bear Island with his stature and unruly dark curls.)

The Princess Rhaenyra also introduced Y/N to something that would never be found in the North.

Dragons.

Y/N was fond of the dragons, wary, but fond. They had a ferocity about them that couldn’t be found anywhere else, and in truth, the way they interacted with their riders reminded Y/N of a loyal yet unruly hound. So as she accompanied him to his training, he accompanied her to the dragon pit. Well, he and Alicent accompanied her. He was not as fond of Alicent.

The girl was alright. Y/N did not hate her by any means; he simply did not know how to interact with her. She was too perfect. She was the perfect lady who would grow up into the perfect wife and mother. She did what she was told when she was told to do it, especially if the person telling her was her father. There was no fight in her, and Y/N could already picture the day that Rhaenyra’s fight and her lack thereof began to clash. The two were fast friends now, but when the constraints of Rhaenyra’s gender caught up with her and Alicent simply went along with whatever her father’s plans for her hand were– well it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“You look horrible.”

Y/N dropped the muddy tunic he was holding on the ground. He spun around to see Rhaenyra smirking at him from where she leaned against his door. Alicent was with her, as she always seemed to be, averting her eyes as her cheeks turned pink at the sight of a man in nothing but his breeches.

He’d tried to get away with wearing the traditional northern clothing he’d brought with him from Bear Island. But the heat of the south had him abandoning his leather early on in his stay. Even Y/N’s stubbornness died at the thought of overheating to death.

He snatched the dirty tunic back up, managing to hide a wince at the pain action brought him, and threw it on. He raised an eyebrow at the girls. “It’s unladylike to barge into a man’s room.”

“You weren’t in the yard.” Rhaenyra said simply, as if that was all the explanation she needed.

“We were worried,” Alicent said, her voice soft. She finally tore her gaze from the floor, making eye contact with Y/N. Her cheeks were still tinted pink. “It’s not like you to leave training early.”

“Ah.” Y/N took a seat. “Well I had a bit of an accident so I was sent back to my chambers.”

“An accident?” The girls said at the same time, they were more alike in their mannerisms than they appeared at first glance.

“I fell.”

“Are you alright?” Alicent asked, stepping toward where the elder teen was sitting. She looked unsure of herself as she asked the question, but relaxed when Y/N simply smiled and gave her small nod.

“I am fine.” Y/N assured them. “Just a bit bruised.”

Rhaenyra smiled, “I thought you Northerners were supposed to be tougher than us.”

Y/N scowled at her. “I am fine. I was simply not allowed to continue out of the request of the master-at-arms, and it was Harwin who knocked me over. He’s hardly southern.”

“Has a maester attended to you?” Alicent asked, having busied herself with finding a bowl of water and a cloth.

Both he and Rhaenyra scoffed at the same time.

“I am fine.”

“See he says he’s fine. There is no need to fuss.”

“I have brothers.” Alicent said as she took a seat next to Y/N. “Men always say they’re fine even when they’re not.”

Northern men especially, went unspoken.

Northern men did not get hurt during training. It was bad enough that he’d been sent away because of a few bruises, the master-at-arms not wanting to seriously injure the King’s guest. Y/N was fine, he simply would be sore for a day or two. Nothing he hasn’t dealt with on his own before.

Alicent gently took his chin in between her fingers, a bold move for the usually shy girl. She pressed the wet cloth to his face and began to wipe the mud and dirt from his skin. Her touches were gentle, gentler than any touch he’d ever experienced before. He heard Rhaenyra scoff and mumble something before taking off, but his sole attention was on the girl beside him.

“You do not have to pretend to be fine.”

“I am fine, Lady Alicent,” Y/N assured her once again, barely managing to silence a hiss when she pressed on one of the bruises. “There is no need to worry.”

“I would like it if you just called me Alicent.” She said, blushing as the words escaped her mouth.

“Alright. I am fine, Alicent.”

She flushed a deeper shade of pink.

They sat in silence as Alicent cleaned his face of the grime it had acquired. The thought that this was the first time they’d been together without Rhaenyra’s presence since he’d arrived in Kingslanding briefly entered his mind. He pushed the thought away as Alicent pulled the cloth away, and he caught sight of a crimson stain.

“You’re bleeding.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, bringing his hand up to where the cloth just was. When he pulled his fingers back they were crimson. “Oh.”

“It is just a nosebleed,” Alicent said calmly, like she’d seen dozens before. Perhaps she had, Y/N was learning that he knew nothing of the girl sitting in front of him. “There is no need for a maester.”

She pressed the towel under his nose again to stem the bleeding. Y/N went to grab the towel from her to hold it there himself. Their fingers brushed against each other as she let go, once again the girl blushed.

“You should be fine.”

“I already said that.” He said, but it didn’t have the same bite as before. She smiled at his tone, and her fingers twitched as if she longed to reach out.

“I will leave you now,” Alicent said, turning on her heel abruptly. She made it all the way to the door before she turned around to say, “Take care, Y/N.”

Perhaps delicacy wasn’t such a bad trait to have after all.

“The Princess is fond of you.”

“Hm.” Y/N smacked the flat of his blade against Harwin’s arm, maneuvering out of the way to avoid the man returning the favor. “You should focus, you never let me get this many hits in.”

Harwin immediately swept his feet out from under him, and he hit the ground hard. His breath was punched out of him with a loud ‘oft’ sound, and he groaned. He opened his eyes, squinting– still not used to the southern sun– at where Harwin was standing over him. Harwin smirked down at him before offering him a hand. Y/N smacked his hand away, leveling a glare at the older man. He pushed himself up off the ground and raised his sword.

“Again.”

Harwin’s eyes caught something over Y/N’s shoulder, and the man smiled. “I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean? I am fine, let's go again.”

Harwin simply motioned for him to look behind him. Before he could he realized what, who, the man was looking at.

“Y/N!” Y/N turned to see the Princess running toward him, the Lady Alicent following closely behind her at a reasonable pace. When Rhaenyra reached him, she did not bother giving Harwin so much as a short greeting before grabbing his arm and tugging him away from the yard. “My father is holding court and wishes us to attend.”

Y/N didn’t get the chance to respond– not that he had much of a choice in the first place– before Rhaenyra’s grip tightened and he was being dragged fully away from Harwin and toward the entrance to the keep. He waved goodbye to Harwin, who simply looked upon the trio of teenagers with an amused smile.

Rhaenyra filled their walk to the court with questions about Y/N’s training with Harwin, while Alicent just watched her two friends interact silently. Y/N answered each of Rhaenyra’s questions earnestly, always happy to indulge in the Princess’ obvious interest in the ways of the men of the realm.

She always looked upon him with such earnest interest that Y/N squirmed a bit under her attention at times. He was used to the attention of women from Bear Island; he was the heir to the Mormont name, of course he was, but the full attention of the Princess of the realm was different. He felt so small sometimes when she looked upon him with those striking violet eyes, and he was reminded of her family’s power in the realm.

The meeting was boring.

It was much like his father’s meetings on Bear Island, except much larger and filled with unneeded fan fare.

Rhaenyra and Alicent seemed just as bored in the meeting, Rhaenyra continuing her line of questioning– except asking about the differences between Kingslanding’s small folk and Bear Island’s– and even Alicent had her own questions for the Northerner. The two girls managed to keep him so entertained throughout the meeting that it was not until the end of it that he managed to get himself noticed in the crowd.

“Alicent,” He had said, keeping his voice low so that only the two girls standing at his sides could hear him. “Your father manages to look more and more constipated every time I see him.”

Rhaenyra had snorted, and Alicent had gasped and smacked him on the shoulder, but the noise was enough to draw attention to the trio. Viserys paused whatever he was saying, and Otto turned toward them to glare daggers at Y/N. The crowd around them began their usual whispers about the Northerner, but Y/N paid them no mind. His full attention was on the red-faced Hand of the King that was walking toward them.

He paused in front of them. Otto sent Alicent a look, and that was all it took before the girl was grabbing Rhaenyra’s hand and rushing out of the room with a flush of crimson.

“Y/N.” Said Otto. “A word please.”

Otto turned swiftly on his heel and stalked out of the room at an impressive speed. Y/N practically ran to catch up with the elder man, once again followed by the whispers of the court around him. Otto ducked into the small council room before Y/N could catch up with him, and when Y/N finally entered the room, shutting the door behind him, Otto was already standing by the window.

“The only reason you have not yet been sent home is because of the grace of your King.” Otto said when the door clicked shut behind Y/N.

“And I thank him for that.” Y/N still longed to go home to Bear Island, and it was only the company of Rhaenyra, Alicent, and Harwin that kept him from going slowly mad over the two moons he’d spent in Kingslanding.

“For some reason, beyond my comprehension, you’ve managed to charm his grace– and Rhaenyra for that matter,” Otto said, contempt for the teen in front of him clear as day on his face. “But despite his… interest in you, I will not let you corrupt my daughter with your ways.”

“My ways?” Y/N blinked at the man. This was not the first time a Southerner had referred to his Northernness in such a way, but Otto Hightower was the first to have the gall to do it to his face.

“You are here for one reason, Mormont.” Y/N once again blinked at him, this time in confusion. “You will do your duties to the realm, and you will leave Alicent out of whatever schemes you come up with.”

“What are you talking about?” Otto opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the door to the small council chambers opening behind them. Y/N turned and watched as Viserys entered the room, clueless to what was going on just before his entrance.

“Y/N!” Viserys said, cheerful as always. “Just the man I was hoping to speak with.”

“Your Grace.” Y/N and Otto said at the time, bowing toward the King. Viserys just waved his pleasantries off, turning toward Otto instead.

“Otto.” Viserys said. “Will you leave us? Y/N and I have a lot to discuss.”

Otto bowed, “Of course, your Grace.” And Y/N noticed that his pleasantries didn’t get waved off as Y/N did. This brought a small smile to the Northerner’s face as Otto skulked out of the room.

“Please.” Viserys motioned toward the chairs. “Sit down.”

Y/N took a seat.

“I am glad that you have developed a quick friendship with my daughter,” Viserys said, taking a seat next to Y/N. He was so close to the Northerner that Y/N could see all the details on the elaborate clothes worn by the King. The cost of making the jacket alone could feed an entire village on Bear Island. “Such a bond between the two of you will make everything move much more smoothly.”

Viserys’ words would’ve made sense if he were talking to anyone else. But he was speaking to Y/N, and Y/N had no clue what his friendship with Rhaenyra had to do with anything. He’d assumed the king was going to follow in his Hand's footsteps and had come to lecture the young Northerner on his behavior in court. Instead, Viserys just continued on.

“I have already discussed this with your father, and he, too, agrees that this would benefit both of our houses,” Viserys said, a blinding kingly smile lighting up his entire face. “House Mormont would benefit greatly from the prestige and gold this match would bring. And truthfully, my daughter would benefit from being around someone who matches her in… uniqueness.”

“Your Grace,” Y/N said, trying to wrap his head around the information he was being bombarded with. “I am sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh.” Viserys looked taken aback. “I apologize, I assumed– with how you’ve been spending your time with Rhaenyra– well, I assumed your father must have told you.”

“Told me what?”

“About your possible betrothal to the Princess.”

What?

#this got SO long #x male reader #house of the dragon #x y/n #house of the dragon x male reader #house of the dragon x y/n #x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x male reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower x male reader

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j-k-writes · 2 months ago

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The Bronze Targaryen Deleted Scene - 2

Summary - Six months after the death of his step-mother, Laena Velaryon, and his promise to his wife, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, (Y/N) Royce is visited at Runestone.

Warnings - Mentions of dead animals, general HOTD warnings, sex

Shadow was getting old.

He no longer nipped at (Y/N)’s hand when he fed him deer meat as he once did when he was younger. Instead, the hawk found a perch nearby and watched silently as the Lord of Runestone methodically tore the skin back and broke the joints of the deer in front of him.

He tossed a piece of meat to Shadow, watching as the bird grabbed at it and brought it to his mouth to eat. He smiled to himself before setting back to the task at hand.

Hunts were different now that he was Lord of Runestone.

When he was younger, he would ride off either by himself or with a small hunting party. He would spend hours – sometimes days – in the woods searching for a hunt, and when he returned, he would prepare the meat for the kitchen himself.

Now he was lucky enough if he found the time to hunt at all.

Everything called for his attention, especially now that he would only be spending half the year at Runestone. He was always stuck in the keep, not even able to find the time to be down in the yard to train with Osric, who had become the head of the household guard during (Y/N)’s time as Lord.

Shadow wasn’t the only one of them getting old.

He was no longer a boy of seven and ten, but instead a man of seven and twenty (only seven years away from the age his mother had been when she passed away). He was reminded from the time he woke up in the morning to the time he fell asleep at night that he was no longer Prince (Y/N) Targaryen, heir to Runestone; instead, he was Prince (Y/N) Royce, Lord of Runestone. His whims no longer mattered, only his duties to Runestone and the realm.

“It’s beautiful here.”

(Y/N) jumped at the voice, almost slicing his hand with his knife. He turned to watch as Rhaenyra walked through the yard. She always had a presence about her, a presence that screamed, “Stop what you’re doing and look at me”. That presence screamed as she walked through the yard to her Lord husband, dressed in a red and black gown and her hair tied back in what was probably an intricate braid.

The people in the yard stopped and stared, not unlike (Y/N), as she walked across the mud straight toward her husband. People were whispering and gawking; the closest they had seen to a Targaryen in years was (Y/N) (Daemon didn’t care to visit Runestone). Her white hair and silk dress stood stark against the brown hair and leather outfits of Runestone’s people.

She was to be their Queen one day, and every bit of her looked the part.

(Y/N) smiled as she grew closer, cleaning his blood-covered hands in the water basin. He placed his knife back in its sheath, picking up Lamentation from where it was leaning against the bench. He was glad his Grandsire was dead, for he would surely pass on the spot if he saw just how carelessly (Y/N) treated the ancestral sword of their house. A sword was a sword, no matter its history.

“Rhaenyra.” (Y/N) greeted. “When did you arrive?”

And why had no one informed him?

“Moments ago.” She smiled at him, eyes falling on Shadow, who was still sitting on his perch. (Y/N) clicked his tongue and held his arm out for the bird. Rhaenyra smiled at the creature, brushing his feathers softly.

“I had not known you were coming.”

“That was the point.” Her smile had not left her face. “It was to be a surprise.”

“Well, I am surprised.”

“In all our years married,” Rhaenyra said, taking a look around the yard. “I have never once visited Runestone.”

(Y/N) ducked his head. Rhaenyra had a way of wielding her words as a double-edged blade. Once, (Y/N) may have pushed back, but he had made her a promise to try. So instead, he pushed down his immediate response and said, “Ah. Well, that fault lies with me. Come, I will give you a tour.”

He motions for a servant to finish preparing the deer for the kitchen, and begins their tour in the aviary. He’s only there to return Shadow, who happily hops off his arm and takes his place on his perch, but Rhaneyra is captivated by the birds. She smiles and laughs as they nip at her fingers and take treats from her hand.

“They like you.” (Y/N) said as he watched his wife interact with the birds of his childhood.

Rhaenyra smiled, softly petting a hawk. “I am shocked. Most animals can smell Syrax and keep their distance.”

“They’ve become used to the smell of dragon over the years,” (Y/N) said, holding his arm out for Rhaneyra to take. As if on cue, he hears Vermithor begin to stir in the distance, most likely spotting Syrax. Rhaenyra takes his arm and lets him lead her out of the aviary and into the keep. “I am surprised I did not hear Syrax approach.”

“As am I.” Rhaenyra said, looking around the unfamiliar halls of her husband’s childhood home. “You’re usually more aware of your surroundings.”

“I was busy.” (Y/N) defended, but the truth is he always lets his guard down when he’s at Runestone. Runestone isn’t like Kingslanding; there’s no hidden vipers waiting to strike. The only person he had to worry about was Gunthor, who wouldn’t dare strike him here, this is (Y/N)’s keep, and everyone knows it. He’s spent the last ten years making sure of that.

Rhaenyra just hums and looks at him knowingly. If she means to say something she doesn’t get the chance as Osric rounds the hall, spotting (Y/N).

“(Y/N)!” The man spots Rhaenyra on his arm and stops short. He began to stutter at the sight of her, his face reddening. “I mean my lord– my prince–”

“Osric,” (Y/N) said calmly, and he watched as the man’s pale skin flushed even further. Rhaenyra watches the interaction with amusement plain across her face, and (Y/N) knows that she knows exactly who has greeted them. “This is my wife, The Princess Rhaenyra.”

“I wasn’t aware we had guests.” Osric blurts out before he turns to Rhaneyra and bows. “Princess.”

“Neither was I.”

“Shall I tell Gerold you’re occupied?” Osric asked, looking uncomfortable in the presence of Rhaenyra. (Y/N) frowned at the man’s tense posture, especially since Rhaenyra was relaxed as can be and smiling fondly at the younger man. She cared not about (Y/N)'s relationship with Osric, as (Y/N) had not cared about hers with Harwin, nor had she cared about his.

“No,” (Y/N) said. “We will follow you.”

Osric nodded, taking a moment to glance at Rhaenyra before turning on his heel and leading the way to (Y/N)’s solar.

“I didn’t realize you promoted him,” Rhaneyra whispered to (Y/N), a teasing smile on her face.

(Y/N) just rolls his eyes, “He is the head of my household guard.”

“He is more than that I’d say.”

“Perhaps,” (Y/N) admits, and Rhaenyra hums thoughtfully. “But he is good at his job. It suits him much better than a stable boy ever did.”

“I believe you. You would not take a chance with your life just to keep him close.” Rhaenyra said, her eyes narrowing as she looked around the keep. “Where is your cousin?”

“Gunthor?” She nods. “Gone. It seems he’s given up on his ambitions for my seat.”

“That is why you returned to Kingslanding.” Rhaenyra tensed beside him.

He turned to her and spoke lowly. “Yes, it is why I feel comfortable leaving Runestone to be with our family.”

“No other reason?” Despite their age, (Y/N) can still see the girl that Rhaenyra used to be behind her eyes as she asks him the question. There’s an unspoken one behind her words, one that (Y/N) already has an answer to.

“I can think of a few.”

Rhaenyra smiles privately to herself, and (Y/N) can see a blush on her cheeks as she turns away. They walk the rest of their way to the solar in silence, and Rhaenyra takes in everything they walk by. These are the halls her husband grew up in, yet they are complete and utter strangers to her, and that is (Y/N)'s fault. He vows to himself to give her and their sons (especially Luke, who will one day take his place as Lord of Runestone) a proper tour one day.

Osric opens the door to his solar and announces, “Lord (Y/N) and the Princess Rhaenyra.”

(Y/N) hears his cousin respond, “The Princess Rhaenyra?” But before (Y/N) can say anything, Rhaenyra is walking ahead of him and greeting Gerold as if they were old friends. Taking the opportunity of both his cousin's and his wife’s distraction, (Y/N) grabs Osric lightly by the arm.

“You do not need to act like this.” (Y/N) whispered to the man. “Rhaenyra knows we are close; you do not need to keep up formalities with her here.”

“Does she know how close?” Osric looks angry as he asks the question, but (Y/N) simply smiles and nods. Osric blushes and looks to where Gerold is talking to Rhaenyra. “She does not seem upset.”

“Because she is not.” (Y/N) assured the man. “She does not care.”

“Why?”

“Marriage is complicated, love is complicated. We made an agreement before we were married to make it less complicated for the both of us.”

Osric doesn’t look convinced but before he can say anything else they’re interrupted by Rhaenyra. “Are you two going to gossip all day or are you going to introduce me properly.”

“It seems you’ve already introduced yourself,” (Y/N) said, looking pointedly to where Rhaenyra and Gerold stood next to each other. Rhaenyra simply smiles as Gerold clears his throat to speak.

"(Y/N), you have some letters that need attending to.”

“Thank you, Gerold,” (Y/N) said as Osric slipped away from the conversation quietly. “Rhaenyra and I will attend to them.”

He does not mean to dismiss his cousin so blatantly, but in all honesty, the man looks relieved that he does not have to bore himself with such a dull task. He nods, giving Rhaenyra a swift kiss on the hand before taking his leave. It is only as he watches Gerold leave that he realizes that Osric has also left. He frowns to himself and makes a mental note to have a conversation with the man later.

“It’s one thing to know that you are Lord of Runestone,” Rhaenyra says, speaking about an hour later, placing the letter (Y/N) had handed her to look at on the desk. He isn’t paying attention to her movements, instead focusing on the letters that scatter across his desk. The reports of the mountain clans make his brow furrow; they’ve grown bold in recent years. “It’s another thing to watch you be the Lord of Runestone in person.”

(Y/N) just hums.

“I have always known you as (Y/N), the boy my father and uncle presented to me and told me to marry. I have never seen you as Lord Royce.” Rhaenyra explains further as she leaves her seat to peer over her husband's shoulder. “The closest glimpses I have ever gotten are when you interact with other nobles.”

She places her hands on his shoulders, “But you’re never relaxed then, always on edge as if they will attempt to strike you down at any moment.”

“You have interacted with Greens, Rhaenyra.” (Y/N) laughed, humming to himself as Rhaenyra began to rub soothing circles into his shoulders. “I have every right to distrust them.”

“Yes, you do.” Rhaenyra presses a kiss to his jaw. “You trust everyone here, it shows in your posture.”

“I have known most of them since I was a child.” (Y/N) is defensive now; he does not know what Rhaenyra is implying.

“I know. It looks good on you, trust I mean.” Rhaenyra grabs his chin and turns him to look at her. Only when he makes eye contact with her does he realize what she’s doing. “I like seeing you relaxed. I hope to see it even when you leave Runestone and take your place by my side.”

“Do you trust everyone on Dragonstone?”

“Yes.”

“Then I trust them.” Perhaps that was an idiotic thing to do. But (Y/N) trusts Rhaenyra implicitly, and if she says that he is as safe on Dragonstone, then he is on Runestone, then that is good enough for him.

“Good.”

She tilts his head up and presses a deep kiss to his lips. He pulls away for a moment to say, “Rhaenyra I have work to do.” But she just ignores him and climbs into his lap, capturing his lips again in a filthy kiss.

He can smell the dragonsmoke on her still, and that alone is enough to have him abandon his duties (The mountain clans can wait) and wrap his arms around her waist to pull her in impossibly closer. Rhaenyra groans into his mouth as her hips meet his, and begins to grind against him a in circular motion. She pulls away, a line of spit connecting their mouth, and grips his chin.

“Do not make me wait.”

He nods, reaching for his belt as Rhaenyra bunches up her skirts. He hisses as he frees himself from his trousers, and Rhaenyra immediately grabs him in her hand. She smiles as he moans, and begins to pump her hand teasingly. He drops his head into the crook of her neck as she takes complete control of the situation.

“I have missed having you in my bed.”

“This is not a bed.” He tried to joke, but Rhaenyra tightens her grip and his sentence ends in a moan. “Rhaenyra-”

She sushes him, connecting their lips once again. She manovers herself until she is seated above him before lowering herself down gently. They both gasp once he breeches her, and his grip on her hips tightens.

“You will be safe,” Rhaenyra whispers against his lips once she’s fully seated. She begins to move her hips, and (Y/N) is helpless to do anything but stay still and let Rhaenyra have her way with him. “Our family will be safe.”

He nods, and she kisses him deeply once more before leaning back. She grabs his hands and moves them to the laces of her dress. He takes the hint and behind to unlace it until it is loose enough to pull down, and then he unlaces her underclothes and brings them down as well. Once her breasts have been freed, he attaches a mouth to her nipple. She moans loud enough that anyone outside of the room must know what is happening in their lords solar.

“Yes.” Says Rhaenyra as she quickens her pace in his lap. He sucks a bruise on her breast before turning his attetion to her other one. She wraps her fingers in his hair as he begins to work his tongue around her nipple.

They’ve had ten years to learn the intricacies of one another, and gods willing they will have many more.

Rhaenyra’s grip in his hair tightens as he brings his hand down to where they are connected, she pushes into his hand and he rubs her in the way he has memorized. He continues to mouth at both her breasts as he works her over.

It’s over embarrassingly fast for the both of them. Rhaenyra drags him up off her breast as she tightens around him like a vice, crushing their lips together in a bruising kiss to stop her moans from spilling out of her mouth for the keep to hear. The feel of her heat tightening around him is enough to have him spill inside of her.

Breathless, Rhaenyra pulls back. Her cheeks are flushed, and her hair is sticking to her sweaty forehead. She looks as beautiful as the day they met. She cups (Y/N)’s cheek, rubbing softly at his cheekbone, and bites her lip. “I missed you.”

“I am coming home to you soon.”

As he speaks the words he realizes that his words are truer than he thought.

Runestone raised him, that much is true. It made him into the man he is today, but the keep is no longer the home it once was under his grandsire. His Mother and Grandsire are gone to be with their ancestors, and he is no longer the young boy that he once was. He has duties now, duties that require his constant attention. He has not enjoyed being at Runestone since he became its Lord.

Runestone is no longer home, it is simply the prison that keeps him from what truly matters.

Rhaenyra.

Aegon Targaryen comes into the world screaming nine moons later.

He has the white hair and violet eyes of his father’s ancestors.

They named him after the conqueror, as his father would’ve named him had he been there for his birth. His father gushes over the babe as (Y/N) tends to Rhaenyra. Their elder sons are captivated by the babe, even Joffery, whose first name day had just passed. As (Y/N) watches his son be passed around from Daemon to Jace to Luke and then back to him and Rhaenyra, he has only one thought.

After ten years, he’s finally found his home.

#x male reader #x reader #x y/n #house of the dragon x male reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x y/n #rhaenyra targaryen x male reader #male reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #one thing I wish i could do more is explore the complexities of their marriage #like it was arranged and for the first few years they were more freinds who did their duty than husband and wife but eventually it grew to #love and that mostly took place over the years after Joffery's birth but because of the time skip i didn't explore that #the war with the greens takes up most of the final draft so scenes like this got cut but i am posting them now to explore that relationship #more before i start posting season 2 (which I have finished the first draft for btw)#Series: The Bronze Targaryen

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j-k-writes · 2 months ago

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WILL THEY, WON'T THEY RELATIONSHIP PROMPTS * for the people that just won't admit they're in love!

i didn't want you to go alone.

i can't do anything without you.

could you ever imagine us together?

how long have you been sitting here?

sorry if i fall asleep on your shoulder.

you're not like everyone else.

is this a date?

you have no idea what i'd do to keep you safe.

i brought you a coffee, just the way you like it.

could you not see i was flirting?

i should get going.

you're the only one i can turn to.

they thought we were a couple.

they were playing that song the night we met.

let's cook something together.

you're special to me.

i think i'm falling in love.

when did you get here?

i missed you more than you know.

you take the umbrella. i'll be fine.

i'll come pick you up. stay right there.

you're my missing piece.

let me see the menu. we could just split something.

i deleted all my dating apps.

there's only one bed.

i won't let anything hurt you.

i'll walk you home.

you said you were hungry, so i brought you something.

there's something i've been meaning to tell you.

you smile when you're nervous.

i get it. you're not interested.

have you ever considered... us?

nothing will ever be the same.

you're the only person who understands me.

was that flirting?

it would mean a lot to me if you stayed.

do you need a hug?

it's all right. i was happy to do it.

do you remember how we met?

i'm here for you. whatever you need.

do you need a lift?

never leave me again. do you understand?

you're my best friend.

you take the bed, i'll take the couch.

maybe i'm already interested in someone.

i'm on my way over. be there in ten minutes.

i don't want to overstay my welcome.

that looks amazing on you.

i'm not going out with them anymore.

i'm just a phone call away.

yes, i was flirting with you.

keep it. you need it more than me.

it was just one kiss.

you changed everything.

you can lean on my shoulder if you want.

i hate it when you leave.

can you walk me home?

you mean so much to me.

stay right there! i'm coming! i'll help!

i'm in love with you! i've been in love with you this whole time!

maybe i could make us breakfast in the morning.

you could hold my hand if you'd like.

wish you didn't have to go.

call me when you get home? so i know you're safe?

i forgot to tell you. we broke up.

check your front door. there's something waiting for you.

you could spend the night.

we're alone now.

need a ride?

that meant a lot to me, you know.

i don't know what i'd do without you.

do you feel the same way?

you... love me?

do you want to come inside?

you deserve better than that.

here, take my jacket. it's freezing.

this song reminds me of you.

are you dating someone?

i didn't know who else to turn to.

do you really have to go?

i don't understand what you do to me.

i won't let anyone lay a hand on you.

were you flirting with me?

i hate saying goodbye.

what happened between you two, anyway?

they shouldn't talk to you like that.

all this time i've been in love with you.

i won't say anything if you don't.

i remembered your order, by the way.

they think we'd make a good couple.

guess we have to share.

i brought you soup.

did you just say i love you?

it's just us now.

i could use a hug.

you are the single most important thing in my life.

i don't know how i survived for so long without you.

we could go on a date.

i've never felt this way before.

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j-k-writes · 3 months ago

Note

you are an amazingly talented creator! ✨ pass this along to 10 creators you admire to spread around the love! <33

<3 thank you

#jkanswers

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j-k-writes · 3 months ago

Note

Can you make something for a Young Alicent Hightower? Specifically that quote she says to Viserys when she’s trying to comfort’ him.

“All I wanted was for someone to say that they were sorry for what happened to me.”

So what if Male Reader had done that for Alicent in this AU? Just that small action causing Alicent to grow almost obsessive with the MReader, doing anything in her power to avoid marrying Viserys and forcing her way into your life.

done.

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j-k-writes · 3 months ago

Text

My Darling

Summary - Alicent Hightower doesn't see newly anointed knight Y/N Lannister when she looks upon the boy in front of her, instead she sees the young teen that comforted her all those years ago.

Warnings - General HOTD warnings

Hello, I am alive. The second semester of uni has been absolutely hell for me and my mental health but alas I have persevered and hopefully will be posting more here once finals are over.

Y/N had not been expecting to attend a royal funeral when his elder brother wrote to him of the tourney in Kingslanding. He’d expected to come and compete, finish in a reasonable place, and then make his way back to Casterly Rock. But the gods did not care for what he wanted, and his third day in Kingslanding found him standing outside in the cold while Princess Rhaenyra’s dragon lit the pyre of her mother and brother.

His brothers abandoned him after the lighting of the pyre. Jason had it in his mind that he would one day be allowed to marry the Princess, and now that she was once again the King’s only child his ambition renewed itself with a new fervor. Tyland, ever the sheep, followed his twin closely leaving their youngest brother to find his way through the crowd by his lonesome.

“Ser Y/N.” Y/N turned his head at the voice, smiling at the sight of Lady Alicent walking toward him. “I thought that was you.”

“Lady Alicent.” Y/N bowed, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. The action brought a giggle out of the girl. “It is so nice to see you again.”

The years had been kind to the girl, as she looked much healthier than the last time Y/N had the privilege of laying his eyes on her. The previous time Y/N had seen Alicent had been when the girl was in the worst throes of grief.

The girl's mother had been sick for some time, so the only person it seemed that was shocked by her passing was her only daughter. Y/N watched from the sidelines as Alicent fell headfirst into her grief, too young to be considered important enough to comfort by the courtiers around them. Even Tyland and Jason had warned Y/N off approaching the girl. Telling him to just let the women deal with it, for it was a woman’s job to supply comfort during times of grief.

(The same brothers who had told him that were currently at the King’s beck and call, trying their best to slide their way into his pocket during his time of grief.)

Y/N hadn’t heeded their warnings in the end.

“Lady Alicent?” Y/N had asked meekly as he knocked on her chamber doors. He wasn’t supposed to be here, it was forbidden for an unmarried man and woman of their ages to be alone in their chambers together, but Y/N could not watch as Alicent locked herself away to rot any longer.

“Please,” Alicent’s voice came from the other side of the doors. “Just leave me.”

“It’s Y/N Lannister,” Y/N said, hoping the name of her friend would convince her to open her doors to him. “Please, I would just like to make sure you are alright.”

Alicent opened the doors slightly, hiding behind the wooden frame and only allowing Y/N to get a glimpse at one side of her face. Her hair was unwashed and her eyes were red as if she’d recently been crying.

“Can I come in?” Y/N asked, and Alicent nodded. She opened the door fully, allowing the boy to walk into the unkempt room. It was truly a feat to manage to get one's chambers as messy as Alicent had, as the servants came in every day to clean them.

“Do you have a purpose for being here, Y/N?” Alicent asked, looking down at the ground as the boy in front of her took in the state of her chambers.

‘She is uncomfortable’, Y/N realized, although why she would not be he didn’t know. He was standing in her chambers, without supervision, taking in the messiest part of her grief without an explanation.

“I just wished to say that I was sorry,” Y/N said, watching as Alicent’s eyes began to water at his words. “I was saddened to hear about the passing of your mother, she was a lovely lady and she loved you very much.”

Alicent nodded. “Thank you.”

“That was all,” Y/N said, beginning to walk toward the door. Alicent reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. She was weeping openly now, tears running down her already red cheeks. Unsure of what to do, Y/N wrapped his arms around the crying girl, rubbing soothing circles into her back as she wept.

“Thank you.” Alicent kept repeating. “Thank you.”

“Are you in Kingslanding for long, Ser Y/N?” Alicent asked, bringing Y/N back to the present.

Y/N nodded, “For as long as I am welcome.”

Alicent looked shy as she spoke her next words, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “You may find that you are very welcome.”

Alicent hadn’t lied to him when she told him he would find himself welcome at Kingslanding.

In the past months since Queen Aemma’s funeral Y/N has not found himself without the company of the youngest Hightower, and where came Alicent came Princess Rhaenyra much to Tyland and Jason’s delight.

“She is almost of age.” Jason had remarked over dinner one evening, causing his youngest brother to roll his eyes. “Perhaps the King will see her closeness with you and bring that into his consideration.”

Y/N had attempted to squash the ambitious ideas that had taken root in his elder brothers’ minds but the two had ignored the man’s protests in favor of their own delusions. Y/N had no ambition for marriage at this point in his life, and even if he did he would not be eyeing the hand of the heir to the throne.

But despite his brothers’ ambitions Y/N had found himself enjoying his time in Kingslanding, especially his time with the Lady Alicent. He had forgotten what joy the girls company had been during his youth, and now that the both of them had matured throughout the years he found himself enjoying their time together even more.

“Y/N!” Alicent would shout anytime she spotted the young knight in a crowd, picking up the tops of her dress so that she could hurry along to his side without fear of tripping. She would immediately loop their arms together, pressing so close to his side that he could feel the warmth of her skin through his jerkin.

“What are your plans for today?” She would ask every day, and everyday Y/N would respond with-

“Whatever your plans are my lady.” And every day Alicent would flush, and duck her head like the maiden he knew her to be.

They would spend their morns walking through the halls of the Red Keep after breaking their fast, sadly separately as Alicent’s father took up the same amount of her time as Y/N’s elder brothers. By the time noon rolled around Alicent, Y/N, and often time Rhaenyra would make their way to the Godswood and sit in the sun reading the books their Septa had assigned.

When Alicent was occupied with her lessons Y/N would find himself in the yard, training as a knight of his standing was expected to do. But he oftentimes found it draining and lackluster, something that confused him as before his journey to Kingslanding he relished in the feeling a sword in his hand would give him. But now he found his thoughts straying far from the yard and toward a certain maiden with auburn hair.

Lately, their days have been plagued with silence and forlorn looks off into the distance. Y/N had tried to broach the subject with Alicent multiple times and each time the girl had just brushed him off and given him a fake smile to placate his worries.

Now, he found himself walking back to his chambers alone his thoughts filled with worry for the young maiden. The door hadn’t closed behind him before he was stripping down to his breeches and tossing his dirty clothes onto the floor.

“Oh.” He heard someone gasp behind him causing him to whip around. He hadn’t heard the doors open behind him or an announcement of the newcomer, and when he saw who it was he realized why.

“Alicent.” He breathed, rushing to find something to cover himself with. The girl ducked her head, face turning crimson with a fury.

“I apologize,” She said, turning around. “If I had known I would have announced myself.”

Y/N grabbed his discarded clothing, quickly redressing himself before turning back to face Alicent. “It is not your fault, you could not have known.”

Alicent was silent when she turned back around, looking everywhere but at Y/N’s eyes. Y/N waited for the girl to speak, to explain her sudden presence in his bedchambers, but she did not. So instead, Y/N cleared his throat and asked, “Not that you’re not welcome, Alicent, but is there a reason for your presence?”

“I wished to speak to you about something,” Alicent said, suddenly sobering. “Can we sit?”

Y/N navigated her toward the bed, letting her sit atop it before taking a seat in the chair across from her. As soon as he saw her atop her bed, he realized just how horrible this would be for the both of them if anyone else were to waltz into his chambers unannounced and find her here unsupervised.

“I fear King Viserys is going to ask for my hand in marriage.” Y/N blinked at her words, his mouth falling agape.

“What?”

“My father wishes for me to marry the King,” Alicent explained.

“And you think that the King will heed your father’s wishes?”

“He has before.” Alicent said, eyes watering as she continued to speak. “And he needs more heirs.”

“I don’t understand what you wish me to do about that, Alicent,” Y/N said, taking her hands in his. He wished to ease this burden from her shoulders, but if the King wished for her hand in marriage then nothing Ser Y/N third son of House Lannister could say would change his mind.

“We could marry.” Alicent whispers so quietly that Y/N almost doesn't hear her. But he did, and the statement changed his life.

He had not thought of marrying Alicent before this very moment, content in their friendship, but as soon as the thought was implanted in his head he realized he would love nothing more. His brothers had pushed Y/N to pursue Rhaenyra and in his haste to quell their ambitions, he didn’t realize what was right in front of him the entire time.

But, “If the King wishes for your hand nothing me or my brothers say will change his mind.”

Their friendship would build a strong marriage, maybe even one born out of love and not honor, and Alicent was a beautiful woman even Y/N had noticed that in their months together. He was so stuck in his thoughts of what a future with the girl would look like that he almost missed her next statement.

“Not if I was a maiden.”

“What?” Y/N stuttered.

“If you-” She flushed as if simply speaking the words would make her plan come true. “If I were no longer a maiden King Viserys would not look so favorably upon me, and we would be forced to marry.”

“We would only be forced to marry if it was I who took your maidenhood.”

She ducked her head, and her wish registered in Y/N’s mind as he took in the way her cheeks darkened even further. “Oh.”

“It was silly, forget-” She did not finish her sentence before Y/N was pressing his lips to hers. She gasped, grabbing onto his face and turning the chaste kiss into something deeper.

Y/N pulled away from her, taking in her flushed appearance. If he did not stop himself now, nothing short of the entire Kingsgaurd would pull him off of her. “Is this what you truly want?”

She nodded.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, he would not do this unless it was what she truly desired. As much as this conversation had kickstarted a fantasy of his he did not even realize he had, and as much as he now wished to make her his wife and live his days with her by his side damn the consequences, he would not do this without her clear approval.

She grabbed his face, gentle thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his cheekbones. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, “I am sure.”

They were married before the first week of summer.

#x male reader #x reader #x y/n #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x y/n #house of the dragon x male reader #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower #alicent hightower x male reader

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j-k-writes · 6 months ago

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Doomsday - 2

Summary - Luke and Brink are dead, and (Y/N) is trying his best to come to terms with the situation. But the young adult has never been known for leaving well enough alone.

Warnings - General Gen V warnings, heavy drug use, canon character death(s), grief and mourning, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentioned child abuse, unhealthy relationships, panic attacks, seizures, blood and violence

His bloody clothes were taken from him as soon as the police arrived on the scene, and it was only then that he realized he was wearing one of Luke’s old hoodies. He asked if he would get it back and the officer just looked at him wordlessly before shaking his head.

(Y/N) took a seat on the curb and sat there as the police took statements until the sun went down. A shock blanket was thrown over his shoulders, but he doesn’t remember by who. The bright flashing red and blue lights blinded him as the sky darkened around them, and every so often, the power washers would get too close and spray him.

Jordan, (Y/N), Andre, and Marie were the only people allowed to stay within the taped-off crime scene, but (Y/N) could see and hear the clamor of too-curious students trying to push past the guards to see what was left of their precious Golden Boy.

Of Luke.

Of (Y/N)'s best friend.

None of the people trying to get a good look with their flashlights and phone cameras understood what had happened today. They might think they were grieving this loss alongside him, but none of them would ever truly understand what had just been taken from him.

His father and his best friend.

His father because of his best friend.

He’d met Brink because of Luke, and now he’s lost him because of Luke too.

(Y/N) jumped to his feet as someone pushed past the guards, but quickly paused his motions at the realization that it was just Cate.

Right.

Luke meant something to her too.

He watched silently as Cate took in the scene around her and collapsed into a fit of sobs, not unlike (Y/N) had done earlier that day when the gravity of what he’d just witnessed caught up with him. (Y/N) just stared at the girl, unable to offer her any comfort. Andre looked to his frozen figure before walking over to Cate and wrapping his arms around her.

No one had done that to him. Not Andre, not Jordan. There were no comforting hugs and quiet words for the boy who’d just lost it all. But Cate got comfort. Because she loved Luke.

He loves Luke. Loved Luke. He loved Luke for longer and in more ways than she ever would. She was just louder about it. Why did that make her love, her grief, any more important than his?

(Y/N) watched as Andre drew the sobbing girl in tighter, and at the sight he turned on his heel and walked away. Ignoring all the protests of the people around him.

(Y/N) was high when the new top ten ratings were announced.

He’d been high for forty-eight straight hours.

Classes were canceled in the wake of Brink’s death, but not Luke’s. The media had cast Luke as the villain and Brink as the brave martyr, though from what (Y/N) knew of his adoptive father and best friend, he couldn’t quite bring himself to buy into that narrative.

He had about a hundred missed messages from Andre and Jordan. None from Cate. Shetty had emailed him, which made him laugh, but he just moved the email to his trash and went back to blowing through his stash.

He spent the better part of his forty-eight hours ignoring those trying to reach out to him and scrolling through old photos of him and Luke.

The oldest picture of them he had was of his adoption day.

It was a small affair, Brink hadn’t wanted any party at all but Luke’s parents insisted. So Brink dressed (Y/N) up in a suit too fancy for a ten-year-old and off to the Riordan’s they went.

The photo itself is much warmer than the actual adoption itself had been. (Y/N) had shrunk in on himself as soon as they entered the courtroom. It was the same courtroom that his parents had given their rights up in not two months before, but this time (Y/N) wasn’t taking the stand to swear on a book he’d had quoted to him in fits of rage throughout his childhood. Instead, he was watching with a smile on his face as papers were signed and pictures were taken, ready to start his life anew.

He’d come to realize years later just how naive he’d been.

The picture is of him, Luke, and Brink. The boys were standing on either side of him with twin smiles of joy painted across their faces. Brink was smiling, too, an actual genuine smile. It was a rarity for such a serious man, and it made (Y/N) ache as he looked at it.

He didn’t look at the picture again.

Instead, he buried his nose in white powder and ate his daily calories in pills. He smiled to himself as the room spun, and he laid back on his bed. The colors of the posters on his wall blended together as his vision blurred, and the sounds of the people outside in the halls and the streets of campus blended together into a peaceful, quiet hum.

His peace was interrupted by a chime on his phone.

(Y/N) groaned as he rolled over, expecting another message to ignore or an email to delete. He raised an eyebrow at the notification and tapped on it half-heartedly.

“Huh.”

Andre was number one which was no shock to the boy.

It was his own ranking that threw him off.

Number two.

Well shit.

(Y/N) had never moved up beyond number five, too combat avoidant and argument-indulgent for the trustees to consider stable. It had always driven Brink mad when he brought (Y/N)’s name up to the board time and time again, only for it to be shot down. It’d only pissed him off more when (Y/N) was unperturbed by his status and continued his behavior.

If only Brink could see him now.

Number two and all it cost was his father and his best friend.

He tossed his phone back on his bed, falling back against the mattress with a huff. He closed his eyes hoping to let sleep overtake him but between his racing thoughts and the stimulants in his system sleep refused to come.

Groaning and rubbing his face he sat up. He grabbed a hoodie off the floor giving it a quick sniff before shrugging it on. He stepped out into the hallway, ignoring all the stares from his fellow students.

He hadn’t been able to bring himself to visit the memorial set up for his adopted father right outside the building he’d taught in, and as he approached it, he remembered why. He paused before he could get close enough to even see the picture they’d picked. (Y/N) watched as students he’d never even seen enter the crime-fighting building cried around the memorial, some into their cell phones and some to their friends.

His first thought was of a sick twisted amusement at the thought that they all probably got off on the fact that they now had an interesting story to go home with. Something to really shock the family with over Thanksgiving dinner.

His amusement quickly turned into anger. This was his father’s memorial, and they were standing here crying to their followers like they knew him. But they didn’t. How could they?

They didn’t spend hours with the personal tutors he paid for waiting for him to come home so that they could see the smile of satisfaction on his face when the tutor told him that they were the most advanced pupil they’d ever taught. Brink never clapped them on the shoulder and told them, ‘Good job, son’, because they weren’t his son (Y/N) was.

He was never a very good son, and now he’d never be a son again. He had tried his best, but his own issues had always caught up with him in the end. Brink wanted him to be on the same level as Luke, but (Y/N) was never much of a fighter, much to the man’s disappointment. (Y/N) could never call Brink ‘Dad’ because the last person he’d called beat him so bloody even his abilities couldn’t get rid of the scars along his back. (Y/N) had always felt bad calling Brink by his name, but Brink had never seemed to mind; he was as much his teacher as his father, and you don’t call your teachers ‘Dad’.

His relationship with Brink wasn’t perfect, but it was a relationship nonetheless. A relationship that these people didn’t have.

(Y/N) turned on his heel to walk away, unsure of why he’d even attempted to visit the damned thing when he felt a hand grab his shoulder.

“(Y/N), wait.” He stopped in his tracks, turning to face Jordan. Jordan paused at the sight of him, and (Y/N) was suddenly embarrassed by his disheveled appearance. “I just- um- how are you, man?”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, “How am I?”

“Yeah,” Jordan nodded, “No one has heard from you, and I know this is a tough time for everyone-”

“A tough time for everyone?” (Y/N) interrupted, almost laughing. He pulled his arm from Jordan’s hold.

Jordan furrowed their eyebrows, “Yeah? We all loved Luke, and I loved Brink just as much as you.”

“Brink was my father, not yours, Li.” (Y/N) spat. “Do not try and sympathize with me.”

(Y/N) turned and walked away. When he got back to his room, he yanked open his desk drawer and rummaged around for the sleeping pills Brink had given him a few months ago for when the dreams got bad. He took five and crashed onto his bed, sleep finally falling over him.

Shetty let him have a week off before she basically demanded he get his act together and go back to class. He had hoped that he’d get at least a month off but with the amount of extra classes he was taking to graduate a year early, it was no shock that Shetty was cutting his wallowing time off early. So, while he didn’t get his act together, he did go back to class.

Jordan avoided his gaze as he walked by, and the action made a small part of (Y/N) smile. He took his usual seat in the back of the class, and ignored all the pitying looks he got from students he hadn’t bothered to learn the names of even though he’d definitely been in class with them for two years.

“Professor Brinkerhoff died the same way he taught.” Shetty spoke from the front of the class, “A hero. He molded the Lamplighter School of Crime Fighting into the shining exemplar it is today. Nobody could possibly replace him so- I will.”

(Y/N) stifled a giggle.

“Or at least I’ll try.” Whether Shetty caught his reaction was unclear. “We will cover everything Brink would cover but we’ll also get into the intersection of superpowers and mental health, which was my dissertation.”

Inwardly (Y/N) groaned, praying Shetty wasn’t as keen on using her own students as examples as Brink had been. She’d have a field day with (Y/N) and his childhood if that were the case. His thoughts were quickly interrupted as Marie entered the class, and Shetty paused her rant turning to smile at the girl.

“Oh. Marie.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“I’m Dean Shetty. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please take a seat.” Marie turned to look at the students who were all gaping like fish at her, (Y/N) included. They made eye contact, and Marie’s gaze fell to the empty seat next to the boy. (Y/N) watched as she decided against the action and took a seat in the front row. “We’re letting Ms. Moreau audit the junior-year classes. What you and Andre did, well, it’s obvious you belong here.”

The class passed by in a blur. (Y/N) took full advantage of his seat in the back of the class and put his head down five minutes into Shetty’s lecture. By the time Shetty reached the end of the hour, (Y/N) had managed to take a ten-minute power nap, pull at the fraying end of his left sleeve, and take zero notes.

Shetty pulled him aside as the rest of his classmates filed out of the room, and (Y/N) mentally prepared himself for the incoming lecture.

“(Y/N).” Shetty said, smiling at him. “How are you?”

(Y/N) blinked at the question. “How am I?”

“Yes.”

“My best friend is being villainized by every news site in the country,” (Y/N) said, unable to keep his rising anger out of his voice. “And my father was murdered, by the very same best friend. How do you think I’m doing, Shetty?”

“Call me Indira, (Y/N).” Shetty said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And I know this is a tough time, I feel for you, truly I do. Whatever you need, just ask.”

She didn’t wait for (Y/N) to answer before continuing.

“Now, I want to discuss the project that Brink had you working on before his passing.” Shetty said, “I understand you had it almost finished when Brink and I last spoke.”

“Uh,” (Y/N) nodded. “Yeah, it’s finished now. I was on my way to give it to him when-”

When Luke killed him.

Shetty nodded solemnly, pity clear in her eyes as she looked at the boy in front of her. “Of course. If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind dropping it off to me as soon as you find the time.”

“Sure.”

“Wonderful.” Shetty smiled. She looked like she wanted to pull the young adult in for a hug, but decided against it and patted his shoulder instead. She turned her back on (Y/N), and while she didn’t dismiss him verbally (Y/N) could tell she was finished with their conversation.

He didn’t bother saying goodbye as he left the room.

Meet us at Luke’s room.

(Y/N) tried to ignore the message, truly he did.

After his last class, he returned to his room, took his pants off, and crawled into bed. But as he sat there in the dark, his unfinished school work staring at him from across the room, and the voices of Luke and Brink in his head that had started to talk to him now that he’d laid off some of the more hardcore drugs, he realized he wasn’t doing himself any favors by not seeing what Andre wanted.

He tugged a pair of sweats on, walking up the steps of his building to where Luke’s room is- was- and found Cate and Andre waiting for him by Luke’s door. He opened his mouth the comment on Cate’s appearance but the words were quickly halted by the state of Luke’s door.

The word murderer was crudely written across it in spray paint the color of blood.

When Luke died (Y/N) had been covered in his blood. It had soaked into clothes that he never got back and the water ran red for what seemed like forever when he’d showered that night. Did Brink bleed when Luke killed him? He’d been burnt to a crisp when (Y/N) went to go identify the body, but did Luke beat him up a bit first? How angry was he at Brink? Why hadn’t (Y/N) noticed? Why didn’t he stop him? Why di-

“(Y/N).” Andre’s touch upon his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts, and (Y/N) blinked. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said, coming back to himself in small increments. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Andre was giving him a look (Y/N) had become all too familiar with in the past week. He brushed his hand off his shoulder, pushing past Andre and opening the door to Luke’s room.

“Where is all Luke’s stuff?” Was the first thing out of Cate’s mouth as the door opened. (Y/N) stepped into the now-empty room, taking a good look at the shelves that had been stripped of their memories.

“They cleared it out.”

Luke used to have a picture of their high school graduation on his desk. (Y/N) had gotten a record amount of honors cords and looked a bit silly with the rainbow of string around his neck, but Luke had been proud of him. So had Brink, although he had made it clear that it was what was expected of him.

“Who?”

He’d hung up a pride flag on the wall of his childhood home when (Y/N) came out to him in the tenth grade. He was scared shitless of what Luke would say, even more so than he had been coming out to Brink, but Luke had just smiled and wrapped him in a tight hug. The flag came with Luke every time he moved. It was gone now.

“Fuck if I know.”

They were always stealing each other’s clothes, a habit carried over from the years (Y/N) had spent at his birth parents' house without proper items of clothing. Their friends had always joked that they should just share a closet with how often the other was returning or borrowing a shirt or a pair of pants. Half of (Y/N)'s wardrobe was gone now.

“They wouldn’t even let me get my shit.” (Y/N) said, spinning in a circle to get a proper look at the bare room. “All our photos, my clothes, all of it’s gone.”

“Smells like bleach in here.” Andre commented, wrinkling his nose.

“Why would they do that?” Cate asked. “What the fuck is going on?”

The smell of bleach was making (Y/N)'s stomach turn, and his breath was coming in short gasps as he took in the soulless room. “I can’t be here.”

He rushed out of the room, followed by Andre and Cate. He turned the corner, taking the steps two at a time as Andre and Cate called for him. He threw the door open when he reached the ground floor, bracing himself on the brick wall as he gasped for breath.

“(Y/N).” Andre said, approaching him as one might approach a skittish animal. “(Y/N), it’s alright.”

“All of his stuff-” (Y/N) said, hyperventilating. “They took all of it, Andre.”

“I know.” Andre took a step closer.

“Those were his memories, my memories. And they just erased it!” (Y/N) threw his fist out, hitting the brick wall with a sharp crack. He groaned as the fingers in his hand broke and reset within seconds, Cate gasped at the gruesome sight. “It’s like he never existed. But he did, and I remember him. I remember all of it, Andre.”

Andre placed a hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “They can’t make you forget him.”

“I won’t.”

“I know.” Andre said, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s shoulder. “I know you won’t.”

“You know what I just realized,” Cate said later after (Y/N) had calmed down and Andre had coerced them both into a walk around campus. “Luke’s desk drawer was full of dildos. They’re all gone too.”

(Y/N) snorted, unable to help the soft giggles that escaped him at the thought of the face of whoever had opened that drawer. His thoughts strayed a bit to what Luke used those dildos for, but he shoved that thought far into the back of his mind before he could dwell too long on it.

“Some security guard is not gonna shit straight for a week,” Andre said, before he stopped dead in his tracks.

“What?” Cate asked, and Andre nodded his head toward the campus security cameras. (Y/N) looked up, immediately seeing what had made Andre pause.

“Security camera’s melted.” Andre said.

“Did you do that?”

“No.” Andre frowned. “Something hot did.”

(Y/N) hummeed in agreement, before Andre’s posture straightened and he made a beeline for the camera.

“Your dad has it.”

(Y/N) took off after Andre, Cate expressed her confusion in the boy’s action before ultimately following after them.

“It was the last thing that Luke said to me.” Andre called back to them as he continued to run.

“You never told us the last thing Luke said to you.” Cate turned to (Y/N) as she spoke as if expecting his agreement with her statement. But the memory of Luke’s whisper against his ear before he died was replaying in (Y/N)'s head and he didn’t respond.

“Didn’t make sense I thought he was fucking crazy.” Andre continued, coming to a stop in front of the campus statue of his father. “But I think he hid something in here.”

Andre climbed up onto the pedestal of the statue, crouching down and focusing. He grunted as he extended his hand and the metal began to pull itself apart. After a few creaks and groans from the statue Andre had successfully made a hole big enough to fit his hand in.

“That is really Freudian.” Cate commented, causing (Y/N) to roll his eyes.

“Really?” Cate just shrugged.

Andre pulled his hand out from where he was searching the statue, revealing a black phone (Y/N) had never seen before. He passed it to (Y/N), who examined it carefully. The battery was dead so (Y/N) couldn’t open it to see its contents, but the exterior looked enough like an average phone for him to feel confident in shrugging his shoulders and handing it back to Andre.

“We should charge it and see what’s on it.”

The walk back to Andre’s dorm was silent. Cate tried at first to fill the silence with questions about what Luke could possibly have gained from hiding the phone if they were going off the assumption that the phone was indeed what Luke had been referring to. But (Y/N) and Andre were too focused on their own thoughts to reply to her.

Andre plugged the phone in and after a few seconds on the charger it powered on. It wasn’t password protected, and a video of Luke was still open when Andre unlocked it. Andre looked around the room for approval, and when both (Y/N) and Cate gave him a nod he pressed play.

“Okay.” Luke on the screen said, pacing around what looked to be his dorm room. “If you’re watching this I guess things got fucked. Okay, I know this sounds crazy, but they have my brother.”

(Y/N) tensed, unnoticed by Cate and Andre whose sole focus was on the screen in front of them.

“He’s not dead. He’s underneath the school. They call it the Woods. It’s like this fucked-up hospital or something. They did messed-up things to him and to me.” Luke paused. “And- uh- and to (Y/N).”

(Y/N)'s breath hitched at Luke’s mention of him, his breath quickening.

“And Brink-” Luke paused again, looking pained as he spoke. “Brink is a part of this. I’m going to go in there right now. I’m going to make him give me my brother back.”

Oh Luke.

“If you’re seeing this I guess things got pretty fucked. I’m sorry. Help Sam and (Y/N) if you can, please. I love you, Andre. Tell Cate I love her, too.” Luke was looking directly at the camera as he spoke. “And if (Y/N)'s watching this- I- I’m sorry I love you.”

Cate and Andre began speaking to each other in rushed panicked tones when the video ended, but (Y/N)'s ears were ringing and he couldn’t breathe deep enough so he didn’t catch what they were saying until Cate said-

“Schizophrenia runs in families.”

“Luke was not schizophrenic.” (Y/N) snapped, unable to prevent the venom that laced his words.

“Then how would you explain this?” Cate said, returning his tone. Her eyes were measuring him carefully. “Do you know what he’s talking about? I mean he mentioned you.”

“No.” (Y/N) shook his head, whole body shaking.“I don’t- I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I mean he was partying with us the night before and he seemed happy.” Cate turned back to Andre, leaving (Y/N) out of their conversation. “Why wouldn’t he tell us? Why wouldn’t he tell (Y/N)?”

The two began to argue, speaking over each other, and (Y/N) got up from his seat. On shaking legs he darted out of the room, desperate for fresh air and possibly a line. When the two young adults didn’t immediately come after him he began to make the walk back to his room.

He passed the crimefighting building on his walk, and paused.

He shouldn’t.

He could. There was no doubt about that.

But he shouldn’t.

He did.

He walked through the crimefighting building on edge, jumping at every slight sound. He took a deep breath as he approached Brink’s old office, pushing the door open and cringing as it creaked. Brink’s office had remained untouched, which only furthered his anger about the state of Luke’s cleaned-out dorm.

He took a seat at Brink’s desk, a chair he had sat in countless times throughout his childhood. Brink had always liked bringing him to campus to show him off to his colleagues and his students.

“This kid is half your age and yet his intelligence is on levels you can only hope to one day reach.” He used to say to them, smiling proudly as (Y/N) preened under the attention. That was before (Y/N) began to waste his potential when Brink was actually proud to call him his son.

‘I wonder what you think of my intelligence now, Brink.’ (Y/N) thought as he unlocked the computer, sifting through hundreds of folders until he came across the one he was looking for. As he opened the folder the door opened, causing him to freeze.

It was just Andre.

(Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the boy, and Andre began to laugh

“What are you doing here? (Y/N) hissed at the boy, as glad as he was that it was only Andre catching him breaking into his dead father’s computer he still did not want him around.

“Same thing as you.” Andre said, coming around the desk to lean over (Y/N)'s shoulder and watch what he was doing. “Is that it?”

“Yeah.” (Y/N) said, scrolling through the countless photos and documents until he came across a familiar face. “Fuck.”

Sam.

A video of Sam, very much alive, dated just a few days ago.

“What?”

“That’s Sam.” (Y/N) reached for his phone, taking a picture of the screen. He would’ve preferred transferring the documents over to his phone, but he wanted to get out of the room as quickly as he could.

“No way, that’s the guy who-”

Andre never finished his sentence, as the sound of voices caused them both to freeze. (Y/N) cursed, closing out of the folder and slamming the computer shut. He grabbed Andre and dragged them both under the desk.

The door to the room opened, and footsteps surrounded them.

“Don’t bother with that shit.” A voice said. “Just files and the computer. Grab the hard drive from the security office and meet me downstairs.”

(Y/N) and Andre watched each other with wide panicked eyes as the guards took what they needed from the room in silence. (Y/N) could only hear what they were doing, he held his breath as the footsteps got closer and removed the computer from the desk. Eventually, they retreated and the door slammed shut.

Andre scrambled out from under the desk, followed closely behind by a confused (Y/N).

“Andre where the fuck are you going?” (Y/N) whispered as Andre began to follow the guards through the halls.

“Following them.” (Y/N) rolled his eyes at the boy's answer.

“Andre, get back here.” (Y/N) grabbed his arm, halting him. “We’re not fucking heroes.”

“I am going to follow them, either come with me or go home.” Andre said, prying himself from (Y/N)'s grip, and continuing on his journey.

(Y/N) cursed under his breath, but followed the boy anyway. Their trail eventually led them down into the basement of the crimefighting building, just as Luke said it would. Andre froze in front of him, and (Y/N) paused. He peered around Andre, watching as a janitor was shot dead by the guards at the bottom of the steps.

Andre gasped, and a guard’s head snapped toward their direction. (Y/N)'s hand shot out the grab Andre’s shoulder, pulling him back toward him.

“The hell was that?”

“Hey.” A guard snapped at the other. “Greg’ll clean up later. Let’s go.”

They left, and Andre immediately took off down the steps. He looked over the dead janitor's body, and then toward where the guards would have presumably left. Except there was no door left for Andre and (Y/N) to see.

“Oh, shit.” Andre said, and (Y/N) nodded.

“Hey!” Someone called out behind them, and Andre immediately jumped into position. Throwing his hand out, it did no good as the guard pulled out a device and a painful sound began to pierce (Y/N)'s ears. He doubled over in pain and the guard laughed.

“Did you know supes have a wider range of hearing than us?” The guard turned the sound up higher, causing (Y/N) to stifle a scream at the pain in his ears. “Like dogs.”

It felt as if knives were slamming themselves into (Y/N)'s eardrums, and he could feel the blood that had started to drip from his ears onto his fingers. His knees gave out from the pain and hit the concrete floor with a thud. (Y/N) couldn’t feel the pain radiating in now bruised knees over the pain in his ears. The feeling of his eardrums beginning to heal themselves only to rupture again began to drive him slowly mad until it all of a sudden stopped.

The sudden change in pain made him dizzy, and he collapsed onto his back. He looked up at his saviour, too tired to laugh at the sight of Cate stumbling down the steps toward them.

“Guys, we need to go.” Cate said, all but collapsing into Andre’s arms.

“Your eyes.” Andre said, his voice just a tad too loud due to the damage to his ears. “You’ve been pushing too much.”

“I’m fine. I’m totally-” Cate fell unconscious, prompting (Y/N) to push himself up from his spot on the floor and dart over to where Andre was holding a now convulsing Cate.

“Oh shit, Cate!” Andre said, trying to shake the girl conscious.

“Get her to my dorm.” (Y/N) said, helping Andre pick the shaking girl up. “I can’t heal her here.”

With blood still trickling from both their ears, Andre and (Y/N) began to drag Cate up the steps.

#x male reader #x reader #x y/n #gen v #gen v x you #gen v x male reader #gen v x reader #jordan li #jordan li x you #jordan li x male reader #jordan li x reader #marie moreau x male reader #marie moreau x reader #gen v prime #gen v amazon #marie moreau #andre anderson #cate dunlap #series: doomsday

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j-k-writes · 6 months ago

Text

The Brozen Targaryen Deleted Scene - 1

Summary - (Y/N) has enough on his plate with an unwanted betrothal and estranged father forcing himself back into his life. He does not need a new and unwanted dragon thrown into the mix. However, as (Y/N) begins his training as a dragon rider he realizes that perhaps one problem can help fix some others.

Warnings - General HOTD warnings, targcest (cousins), political marriage

The winner of the poll!

(Y/N) did not return to the keep until morning. His uncle and what looked to be the entirety of the royal guard were waiting for him as he dragged his feet through the gates. One look at (Y/N)'s mud and blood-soaked clothing was all it took for his uncle’s face to flush in fury.

“Come with me.” Viserys bit out. “Now.”

(Y/N) followed his uncle, and the guards who had not left his side since he climbed the stairs, silently. Not that he could blame them, he’d managed to slip their eyesight the night before, and look what happened. His uncle walked him to his chambers, dismissing most of the guards as they entered.

“Fetch a maester.” His uncle said to one of the guards as they left, before closing the door behind them. He rounded on (Y/N), fury clear on his face. “Sit.”

The tiny petulant child that lived in (Y/N)’s brain wanted to continue to stand but the exhaustion seeped deep into his bones and forced him into a seat. (Y/N) sighed as his aching back met the cushioned chair, and he watched as Viserys paced the length of the room.

“What were you thinking?” Viserys said, but before (Y/N) could form an answer he spoke again. “You are a Prince of the House Targaryen, the heir to Runestone! Sneaking out at night? You could’ve been taken, or worse killed!”

“I wouldn’t have been killed, uncle.” (Y/N) said, indignant at the thought that he would be killed by some random attacker in Fleabottom. It was the wrong thing to say as his uncle seethed further.

“No?” Viserys spat. “Have you seen yourself, (Y/N)? You are covered in dirt and blood. What am I supposed to tell your father when he returns? That I allowed his only son to escape my watch and injure himself as he whored around Fleabottom?”

“I think he’d be thrilled at the thought actually.” (Y/N) said, “But I wasn’t whoring, I just wanted a break. I am not used to the city, uncle. I missed the fresh air.”

His uncle deflated at his words, sighing to himself. “If you had just told me-”

“You would’ve sent me to the woods with at least four guards. I wanted to go alone.”

The doors burst open as (Y/N) finished his sentence, but it was not the maester who entered the room but Rhaneyra. She was panting as if she’d run to his room. Rhaenyra looked to her father first and then to (Y/N), and when they made eye contact her jaw dropped.

“What have you done?” (Y/N) laughed at her words. She approached him, face flickering between disgust at his mud-covered clothes, and worry at the blood on his face.

“Rhaenyra-” Viserys started but his heir waved him off, grabbing a cloth from the water bowl on (Y/N)’s desk. His uncle sighed at Rhaenyra’s actions, turning to (Y/N). “We have not finished with this conversation, and I will be doubling your guard.”

(Y/N) sighed, watching as his uncle left the room letting the chamber doors closer with a slam behind him. Rhaenyra approached, beginning to wipe the grime off his face. Her movements were harsh with anger, and (Y/N) winced as the cold rag made contact with the cuts on his face.

“Tell me what happened.” Rhaenyra said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“I snuck out of the keep.”

“I am aware of that.” Rhaenyra said. “The whole keep is aware of that as a matter of fact. I want to know who injured you.”

“No one injured me.” (Y/N) said, and Rhaenyra paused her washing of his face at the honesty in his tone.

“What do you mean?”

“A dragon claimed me.”

“You claimed a dragon?”

“No,” (Y/N) said, wincing internally at how ridiculous he must sound. “I did not claim it, it claimed me.”

“A dragon is not an it.” Rhaenyra chastised, swatting him on the shoulder. “Which dragon?”

(Y/N) had not thought that far. Truthfully he knew little of his father’s family history, Maester Pate always cuffed him when he adamantly refused to study the books. He knew nothing of the dragon that found him last night, except that it was more stubborn than himself if such a thing was possible.

“I do not know.” (Y/N) admitted. “It was bronze, like my house's sigil, and huge. I felt like a babe as it towered over me.”

“Bronze?” Rhaenyra froze, eyes widening.

“Yes.”

Rhaenyra’s face broke out into a grin. “That is Vermithor.”

“The dragon missing from Dragonstone?”

“Yes, our great-grandfather Jaehaerys was his rider once.” Rhaenyra seemed ecstatic at the news, but (Y/N) could not help the fury that flared within him. It could be no coincidence that the dragon that left Dragonstone upon his father’s arrival on the island would claim him. Rhaenyra seemed to notice his worsening mood and frowned. “You do not seem happy.”

“A dragon is the last thing I want, Rhaenyra.” (Y/N) said. “I am not like you, I do not take pride in being a Targaryen.”

Rhaenyra drew away from him at his words, placing the dirty cloth back in the bowl of water. “I will make sure the maester finds his way to you, cousin.”

Rhaenyra was angry with him, that much (Y/N) was sure of.

Since the morning he’d returned bloody and bruised and with a new dragon in tow, she had not spoken to him outside of their council visits, and even then her words were short and clipped. Once (Y/N) would have been grateful for his betrothed to show such contempt for him, the hope of a broken betrothal would have raised his spirits to new heights. But after weeks of enjoying Rhaenyra’s friendship, he could not bring himself to feel anything other than bored.

While he still had little desire for a wedding, let alone one his father had arranged for him, he did wish for his betrothal to Rhaenyra to end. He did not love the girl more than anyone loved a friend, but perhaps one day he would bring himself to. She was comely enough for (Y/N) to admit his attraction toward her, and she was pleasant enough company that he would not mind being tied to her for the rest of his life.

He had always known his marriage would be political, and was grateful that his intended was someone who understood him as much as Rhaenyra did. But he still feared that the quickness of their betrothal would forever stain their marriage, they did not love each other and probably would not for some time.

Still, he could not have his future wife not speaking to him before their marriage was even official.

The Dragonkeepers had sought him out a few days ago, claiming that Vermithor was restless and they had tried everything. He tried to tell them that he had no wish to properly claim the dragon and that they should just let him return to Dragonstone. Alas, it did not work that way and if (Y/N) continued to ignore their bond he would just cause Vermithor and himself more harm than necessary.

So he made the lengthy trip up to the Dragonpit, without Rhaenyra this time. He made the trip every day until Vermithor was calm enough to be saddled and the Dragonkeepers determined his mastery of the dragon well enough to fly. He’d nearly fainted the first time Vermithor took off, but soon enough discovered that this was the fresh air he’d been dreaming of since leaving Runestone.

He tried to keep his distance from the dragon, telling himself he was doing this only because it seemed he had no choice, but as the weeks passed on he found himself looking forward to his daily lessons with Dragonkeepers.

Rhaenyra had begun talking to him again when she learned of his lesson, most likely from his father, and he was so relieved to have his friend back that he didn’t bother holding a grudge against the girl.

Her first wish, demand more like, upon their reacquaintance was to go flying. (Y/N) had mused that they’d done that before but Rhaenyra just rolled her eyes and insisted. This time (Y/N) would no longer be a spectator on the ground as she had her fun, he would be joining her in the skies.

He was nervous on their ride up to the Dragonpit. Vermithor had become considerably more docile than when he first arrived at the Dragonpit, but there were still days that (Y/N) feared for the safety of those unfortunate enough to bear the dragon’s scorn.

He watched anxiously as Vermithor crawled out from the Dragonpit, tilting his head side to side in search of his rider. (Y/N) approached him, laughing quietly to himself as the dragon pushed his snout into (Y/N)’s chest. He whispered calming words in his ancestral tongue, informing the dragon that they had a guest and he must behave.

When Vermithor stilled (Y/N) held his hand out to Rhaenyra, much like she had done when introducing him to Syrax. She approached the dragon slowly, looking up at him in awe.

(Y/N) remembered that this was her great-grandfather’s dragon; she'd probably grew up on stories of Vermithor as much as she had his rider.

(Y/N) pressed her hand against Vermithor’s nose, whispering calming words to the dragon as he huffed. After what felt like an eternity of anxious waiting, Vermithor calmed, blinking slowly at his rider’s betrothed. He heard Rhaenyra laugh next to him and he turned to catch her eye. She was still looking up at his dragon in awe.

“You’ve done very well with little training.” Rhaenyra said, rubbing her hands down Vermithor’s snout.

“Perhaps I am more Targaryen than I wish to be.” (Y/N) smiled at his betrothed, and Rhaenyra just nodded her head, smiling at him.

#x male reader #x y/n #x reader #house of the dragon x male reader #house of the dragon x y/n #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x male reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #series: the bronze targaryen

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j-k-writes · 6 months ago

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#x male reader #x reader #x y/n #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon x y/n #house of the dragon x male reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x male reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader

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j-k-writes · 6 months ago

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Any chance we’ll get any stories set during ‘The Bronze Targaryen’. In the mood for some domestic fluff of Rhaenyra and Y/N doing stuff like raising the kids on Dragonstone, the earlier years of their relationship, him showing her around Runestone, ETC? I just need some Rhaenyra x Y/N content real bad rn

I have a few scenes from the first draft that I scrapped that I can definitely sit down and write if y'all want

#maybe I'll do a poll #just let me know #jkanswers

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j-k-writes · 6 months ago

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I don't want to take up your time with nonsense, but could you do something with Lucerys Velaryon x M! Reader? Preferably the reader being your uncle and being the youngest son of Viserys and Alicent Before Daeron he was the fourth son. (Sorry if it was a little confusing, I'm not good at explaining things And I'll also understand if you don't want to do it, I'm just making this request because there's very little lucerys x m!reader)

done!

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j-k-writes · 6 months ago

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Sweet Boy

Summary - Six years can change people, in the case of Prince (Y/N) Targaryen they've changed him quite a lot.

Warnings - General HOTD warnings, targcest (uncle/nephew)

The crowd cheered as Aemond forced Ser Criston to yield, but Y/N simply rolled his eyes at Aemond’s preening under the eyes of the lesser lords of the keep. His brother shot a short glance in his direction before his gaze was captured by two boys in the crowd.

“Nephews,” Y/N straightened at his brother’s comment, turning his gaze to the two brunette boys standing at the front of the crowd. ”Have you come to train?”

Jace frowned at Aemond, and Y/N left his spot in the corner, walking past Criston and next to his brother. His nephews differed from the young boys Y/N remembers them being, although the same could be said for Y/N. It had been six years since the last time they were in the same place, and given the anger in his brother’s eye, perhaps that was for the best.

“Leave them be, they’re simply reacquainting themselves with their old home.” Y/N said, nodding his head to nephews. “Jace, Luke.”

“Y/N.” Jace nodded back, but Luke simply stared at the two young men in front of him. Aemond simply scoffed, turning back to Criston and raising his sword again.

Y/N did not react to his brother’s childish antics, instead giving Jace and Luke a curt goodbye and taking himself back inside the keep. He walked through the halls silently, giving short one-word answers to the courtiers that stopped him along his way. Not many bothered talking to the second youngest prince, but those new to the keep still tried their hand in their first few weeks before coming to the realization that they weren��t breaking through Y/N’s icy exterior.

His mother was already waiting for him in his chambers by the time he arrived. He paused in the doorway looking at his mother’s sitting figure. His mom looked up at the sound of the door opening, and she immediately frowned at the sight of her second youngest.

“I wish to speak with you.” She said, voice tight.

“Evidently.” Y/N said, stepping further into his chambers.

His mother scowled at his response, “Your sister has arrived at court to put forward a petition to up-hold Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark.”

“I’m aware,” Y/N said, and his mother looked taken aback at his response. Credit to Alicent, Y/N tended to ignore the comings and goings of the court around him. “I ran into Jace and Luke with Aemond.”

“The hearing of the petitions will happen on the morrow.” Alicent said, licking her lips nervously. “I do not ask much of you, Y/N.”

Y/N scoffed, and his mother frowned. “You may not see it that way, but I don’t. I let you neglect your duties-”

“My duties? I am the third prince.” Y/N laughed.

“You still have duties to the realm!” His mother raised her voice before pinching the bridge of her nose. She sighed, calming herself before speaking again. “Your father is not going to get better, and sooner or later, the people of the realm will look to this family for strength. We cannot give that to them if we are divided.”

“They’ll be looking to Rhaenyra, Mother.” Y/N said, narrowing his eyes at his mother. “She will be their Queen, and I will still be nothing but the third prince of the realm.”

His mother looked at him silently before sighing to herself. She stood, fixing her dress, and Y/N met her piercing gaze straight on. “I do not know how to make you understand the importance of your actions in these next few days.”

“Then leave me.”

Without another word to her son, Alicent did.

The hearing of the petitions and their family dinner afterward went exactly how Y/N expected it to go. That is to say laughably disastrous.

Daemon’s outburst in the great hall had been quickly swept under the rug by Y/N’s father despite the protests of his grandfather and mother. Y/N had never cared for the younger Velyaron, and Viserys had already called for his tongue before Daemon’s sword was raised, so the young prince brought nothing to the argument that his mother and grandsire wished to hear.

The conversation was forgotten almost completely after Aemond’s interruption at dinner. Sparking a fight between the families, no matter how true one’s words were, was not something easily forgiven by Alicent Hightower. Although Y/N took no part in the fight, watching quietly from his seat as the young men were dragged away from one another, he too was banished to his chambers for the rest of the night.

Y/N winced as the wall groaned against his weight. He said a silent prayer to The Seven that the guards positioned outside of his chambers could not hear him as he opened up the door in the wall and slipped inside, shutting it carefully behind him.

He managed to get halfway to his destination uninterrupted, but like many things in his life, the gods were not on his side tonight. He froze at the sounds of footsteps heading toward his direction, cursing quietly to himself as he looked for a different tunnel to walk down.

“Y/N?” A voice called, and he froze.

He turned on his heel, “Luke. What are you doing out of bed?”

“What are you doing out of bed, uncle?” Luke raised an eyebrow, and Y/N couldn’t help the slight chuckle that escaped him at the prince’s comment.

“Well,” Y/N said, leaning in closer to the boy. “If we’re both out of our chambers without permission perhaps we should stick together.”

Luke looked conflicted at the offer, avoiding Y/N’s gaze as he thought it over. Y/N couldn’t blame the boy for his hesitance, not two hours before Y/N’s older brother had sparked a fight between the two families. But Y/N always considered himself above such petty insults, his sister’s family situation was not his concern.

Slowly Luke met his eyes, biting his bottom lip nervously, “Where are you going?”

Y/N smiled, nodding in the direction that Luke had just come from, “Follow me.”

They walked together silently the rest of the way, the only noise of their soft footsteps and the scurry of a rat every few minutes. Luke followed behind him closely, nearly running right into him every time Y/N stopped to make sure they were going the right way. His face broke out into a smile when he came to the familiar exit into Fleabottom, turning around to smile at Luke. Luke looked between him and the exit with wide eyes, jaw dropped in shock.

“Is that-”

“A way into Fleabottom?” Y/N’s smile widened. “Yes.”

“I can’t go to Fleabottom!” Luke yelled, before remembering they were supposed to be quiet and lowering his voice. “What if we get caught?”

Y/N rolled his eyes, “I do this all the time, trust me we’re not going to get caught.”

Luke still looked wary, and Y/N sighed.

“Luke,” Y/N said, voice soft. “Have you ever even been to Fleabottom?”

“No.”

“Then let me show you around.” Y/N smiled, watching as the fight slowly drained out of Luke. “I won’t be taking you whoring, I promise. The worst you’ll see is a tavern brawl.”

Luke looked at the door and bit his lip, and at the sight of the nervous tic, Y/N realized he had won. He held his hand out for the boy to take, his smile widening when Luke slowly took it. Y/N put his torch down, stepping into the open air of the night.

“Come, let me show you your mother’s future kingdom.”

#kinda hate this #x male reader #x reader #x y/n #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x male reader #house of the dragon x y/n #lucerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x male reader #lucerys velaryon x y/n

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j-k-writes · 7 months ago

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Doomsday

Summary - (Y/N) just wants to spend his senior year with his head kept down and his best friend at his side. But like always, his wants mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, and not even a week into his second to last semester things come crashing down.

Warnings - General Gen V warnings, heavy drug use, blood and violence, child abuse (mostly just implied and discussed nothing graphic), canon character death(s), suicide, murder

12 Years Ago

His joints screamed at him as he scaled his way up the side of the house, his cut-up hands leaving behind crimson stains on the light brick as he went. He’d slipped halfway up; the resulting near-fall had left his left knee skinned and his jeans ruined, but he just ignored it and continued to climb. He was out of breath by the time he managed to crawl the already open window of his best friend’s room, and he’d been crying since his back door slammed behind him on his way out of the house, leaving him a panting, sobbing mess.

He didn’t bother turning around before he began his rant, wiping harshly at the tears rolling down his cheeks, “I can’t live with them anymore- they’re- they’re the worst! My dad threw a bible at-”

He turned around and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a stranger standing in Luke’s room, the boy himself nowhere to be found. His hackles were immediately raised at the sight of the man. Especially because he could feel the all too familiar tingle under his skin that meant his skinned knee was knitting itself back together, he took note that it started quicker this time and pinned the observation away for later.

The man raised an eyebrow at him, smiling softly to himself as he took in (Y/N)’s appearance. “Hello.”

“Where’s Luke?” (Y/N) frowned, and the man laughed, which only caused (Y/N)’s frown to deepen. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear, (Y/N) thought as Luke burst into the room. Whatever the pre-teen was about to say died on the tip of his tongue at (Y/N)’s appearance, and his face flushed with anger or embarrassment; (Y/N) couldn’t tell.

“Again?” Ah, anger then. (Y/N) nodded, looking down at the floor. “What happened this time?”

(Y/N) shrugged, “‘s not that big of a deal. I can come back later.”

Luke shook his head, pushing past the mysterious man, “And go back?”

Again (Y/N) shrugged.

“I’ll ask my parents if you can stay over,” Luke said, lowering his voice as if he just remembered they were in the presence of company. “You know if you just let me tell them they could-”

“No.” Luke just sighed at his friend’s stubbornness, turning around- probably to go find his parents- and stopped at the sight of the man. “Oh. Sorry, (Y/N), this is Professor Brink.”

“Nice to meet you.” (Y/N) said before his father’s nagging voice entered his head, and he added a “Sir.”

Professor Brink looked amused at the boy and turned to Luke. “Do you mind if I talk to- (Y/N) was it?” (Y/N) nodded, and Brink smiled. “Do you mind if I talked to (Y/N) for a moment, Luke?”

“Uh- yeah sure.” Luke made a hasty exit leaving (Y/N) alone with the strange professor. Brink motioned for him to sit and after a few seconds of deliberation, (Y/N) took a seat on the edge of Luke’s bed, eyeing the man up warily.

“You’re a supe.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“What can you do?”

“What’s it matter to you?” (Y/N) snapped, clenching his fists at his side. He tensed as soon as the words escaped his mouth, but the man simply laughed.

“I’m a professor at Godolkin University.” Brink said. “Do you know what that is?”

“I’m not dumb.” Again the man laughed.

“I never said you were, in fact, I can tell you’re quite bright. Am I right?” (Y/N) just shrugged. “How long have you had your powers, (Y/N)?”

“A couple months”

“And how old are you?”

“Nine.”

“Same age as Luke then.” (Y/N) nodded, and Brink seemed pleased with his answer. “I am going to tell you why I’m here, and then after you’re going to tell me why you are. Got it?”

“Fine.”

“I’m here because your friend Luke is going to be bigger than Homelander,” Brink said, and (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the statement. His Luke, his Luke who couldn’t sit on furniture for too long unless you preferred your chairs charred and blackened, bigger than Homelander? No shot. “Now, you haven’t told me what you can do yet, kid, but based on the little show I just got-” (Y/N) flushed. “-I can take a pretty good guess.”

“It’s nothing special.” (Y/N) mumbled, Brink’s gaze made him squirm in his seat. “I can just heal, and they- they uh say I’m pretty smart, but I don’t know- it’s lame.”

“Nonsense,” Brink said, and (Y/N) took a proper look at the man for the first time since climbing in through the window. “Luke has told me a lot about you, (Y/N).”

“He has?”

“Oh yes.” Brink’s smile widened. “In fact I think you two can become quite the team. What do you think?”

Present Day

(Y/N) jolted upright as the ice-cold water came crashing down on him, the momentum of his body causing him to tumble out of bed, hitting the floor with a loud crash. He groaned as his face smashed into the floor, feeling the bones of his nose crack and reset just as quickly as the man above him laughed.

“What do you want?” (Y/N) said, picking himself off the floor. He stripped, throwing the now wet clothes across the room.

“I have training.”

“Exactly-” (Y/N) said as he pulled a fresh shirt over his head. “-you have training.”

“You said you’d come watch.” Luke picked a pair of jeans off the floor and tossed them at him.

(Y/N) laughed at the pout on his friend’s face, catching the jeans easily and sliding them on. “When?”

“A few days ago?” Luke said, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?”

(Y/N) shrugged, picking a hoodie up off the ground, and Luke only frowned. He watched as Luke walked over to his desk, taking a look at the clutter of substances from the night before that (Y/N) had no doubt forgotten to put away before crashing into bed. Luke ran his finger in a line down the desk, and when he pulled away, his fingertip was dusted white.

“As if you’re one to talk, Riordan.” (Y/N) snapped, hackles rising before Luke could even open his mouth to speak.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything.” Luke brushed his finger off, walking over toward (Y/N). He grabbed (Y/N)'s face, forcing the young adult to look him in the eyes as he spoke. His eyes flicked up and down (Y/N)'s face as if studying him and (Y/N) couldn’t help but flush under his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Luke’s grip tightened, “Don’t lie to me.”

“Just some bad dream ‘s all.” (Y/N) said, and Luke relaxed. “Now come on, we’re gonna be late.”

“And whose fault is that?” Luke laughed, swinging his arm over (Y/N)'s shoulders and pulling him in close as they exited the room.

(Y/N) put his hood up, drawing the strings tight as soon as they stepped outside. He was vaguely aware of Luke’s snide comment about his reclusive nature, but the loud sound of the people around them drowned him out. (Y/N) cringed and stepped away as people came up to take selfies and chat with Luke, but Luke held on tight to his shoulders the entire walk to the gym as if he was scared (Y/N) was going to disappear if he let go for even a second. (Y/N) wanted to smile at the gesture, but the tight grip on his shoulder began to hurt the further they walked. When (Y/N) lit a cigarette, and Luke didn’t pause once to make a sarcastic comment about his self-healing lungs, (Y/N) stopped in his tracks.

“What’s wrong?” Luke looked startled by (Y/N)'s question, taking in their surroundings before speaking.

“Nothing.” (Y/N) scoffed, and Luke immediately crumbled. “Just a nightmare. I’ll tell you later.”

(Y/N)'s brows furrowed, but he accepted the explanation in stride. Mimicking Luke’s gesture from earlier (Y/N) wrapped his arm around Luke’s neck, smiling to himself when it forced a laugh from the brunette's mouth. They walked the rest of the way like that, arms thrown over each other and laughing.

(Y/N)'s smile fell as they entered the gym, and Luke adjusted his stance to cover his friend from the prying eyes of their audience.

“Just ignore them,” Luke whispered, moving closer to (Y/N) to be heard over the crowd. And (Y/N) stepped out from under his arm when he felt Luke’s lip graze his ear. Luke frowned at the action, chalking up (Y/N)'s sudden nervousness to the crowd around them, “Hey, they’re just a little rowdy. Nothing to worry about.”

“I’m fine.” (Y/N) gave him his best attempt at a smile. “They’re just loud and I’m hungover.”

(Y/N) couldn't tell if Luke believed him as his best friend’s eyes fell on a figure behind him and his face lit up. (Y/N) turned to see what Luke was looking at, and as soon as his eyes fell on the blonde he froze.

Luke made his way over to Cate, grinning from ear to ear, and (Y/N) took a step back, hoping to fade into the crowd surrounding them. He wrinkled his nose as the two kissed, a bit too obscene for PDA, in (Y/N)'s opinion, but before he could voice his thoughts on it, he felt an arm make its way around his shoulder, and he jumped.

Andre laughed at (Y/N)'s reaction, causing (Y/N) to shove him off. “Dickhead.”

“Shocked to see you here,” Andre said, “I was betting on you bailing.”

“Didn’t even get the chance.” (Y/N) sighed, and Andre laughed.

“Alright tongue in your head, head in the game. Yes, you.” Andre approached Luke and Cate, who were still swapping spit. “Thank you, and thank you.”

“Uh, dude, I am not sweating The Incredible Steve.” Luke said as he approached Andre and (Y/N), throwing his arms around both of them. “Or anyone that has ‘The’ in their name.”

“I hope not. I got ten grand on you.” Andre said, and (Y/N) snorted softly.

“Alright, well, we’ll split it fifty-fifty, huh?” Luke said. “Or else I throw the match.”

Andre froze, before laughing when he realized Luke was joking. “Fuck you. Asshole. Kick his ass.”

“Loveable asshole.” Luke said as he approached the man waiting for him on the other side of the mat, and Andre and (Y/N) took a step back.

(Y/N) tried to pay attention to the fight, but the noise of the crowd, the brightness of the sun, and Andre’s odd glances in his direction distracted him throughout. He spent most of the fight squinting at the ground and feeling the beginnings of a migraine. A robe was thrust into his hands as the crowd began to chant his best friend’s name, and (Y/N) finally looked up.

Luke walked over to them, completely starker, and (Y/N) practically threw the robe at him. He got a small thank you for his troubles before Luke and Andre walked toward where Steve was laid out on the ground sans arms. Luke and Andre reattached Steve’s arms before helping him up. With a pat on the shoulder, Luke sent the man on his way and made his way back over to where (Y/N) was standing with Cate.

“Lunch?”

(Y/N) hummed, rolling over in search of the sudden warmth that filled his bed. He wrapped his arms around the body, smiling softly to himself at the laugh he felt vibrating through their body. It took him about fifty seconds to remember that he went to bed alone last night and that there shouldn’t be another person in his bed, and when his brain processed the thought, he shot upright.

His face burned as Luke doubled over, laughing at (Y/N)'s flustered sputtering.

“I didn’t know you were a cuddler,” Luke said, and (Y/N) flopped back down on his bed with a groan. He grabbed the covers to cover his face, but Luke caught the other end. (Y/N) tugged at his end, but Luke simply tugged once and (Y/N)’s grip broke.

“Fuck off.” (Y/N) turned over, hiding his face in his pillow.

“Come on,” Luke threw himself over (Y/N), who grunted at the new weight on top of him. “I have something to tell you.”

“Tell me then.” (Y/N) said, his words muffled by his pillow. “But ‘m not moving.”

Luke laughed, his breath hitting (Y/N)’s ear and causing gooseflesh to run down his neck. “If you weren’t so lazy you could have beaten me out of my number one spot years ago.”

“‘M not lazy.” (Y/N) said, “And I doubt that.”

“Well,” (Y/N) could feel his smile against his neck as Luke spoke. “It’s a good thing you didn’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re about to be best friends with a member of The Seven.”

At that, (Y/N) turned over, confused. Luke adjusted his position on top of (Y/N) as the boy turned over onto his back, falling off to lie next to him, his head propped up on his hand. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Luke just continued to smile at (Y/N), and slowly but surely, the pieces began to connect in the boy’s mind. “You’re going to The Seven?”

Luke nodded.

“When?”

“Straight after graduation.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“Holy shit, congrats.” (Y/N) threw himself at Luke, wrapping him up in a tight hug and causing his best friend to laugh. He pulled back, “That’s amazing, I mean, this is everything you’ve ever wanted.”

At that, Luke’s smile dimmed. Just for a second before it was back in full force, and Luke agreed with him, but it was enough for (Y/N) to notice and frown. Luke noticed his frown and paused, “What?”

“You’re not happy.” (Y/N) said.

Luke froze, “What? Of course I’m happy. Like you said, this is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Yeah, but-” (Y/N) paused, he took in Luke’s agitated stance and decided against finishing his thought. He had months to pick apart Luke’s insecurities and inner workings before he was fully committed to The Seven, so he put the conversation in the back of his mind for another day. “Never mind, I’m being stupid. Do the others know?”

“No.” Luke smiled again. “Just you, me, and Brink.”

“When are you going to tell them?”

Luke shrugged, “I don’t know yet. Probably tonight- we’re going out, and you’re coming, by the way.” (Y/N) groaned at the idea, and Luke lightly swatted his shoulder. “I mean it, no excuses this time.”

“I have work from Brink.” (Y/N) started, and Luke scoffed. “I mean it! I do!”

“Well, finish it quick,” Luke said, rolling over and off the bed. “You’re coming out with us tonight, no matter what.”

(Y/N) opened his mouth to argue again, but Luke cut him off. “I never see you anymore man. I miss you.”

Like a house of cards, (Y/N) immediately folded at Luke’s words. He nodded, already planning his day in his head so that he could finish Brink’s assignment before leaving for the night, and the way Luke’s face lit up as he exited the room made the extra stress worth it.

(Y/N) groaned as the wind blew his lighter out again, and he huddled further in on himself, cupping the flame as he desperately tried to get his cigarette lit. Two new hands cupped the flame, and (Y/N) looked up, making eye contact with Jordan. He gave them a nod of thanks when the flame caught on the end of his cigarette. Jordan walked away from him after that, back to where Andre was talking about some freshman he’d invited to come out with them.

(Y/N) had learned to tune the metal-controlling boy out within weeks of meeting him, so his words were going in one ear and out the other. (Y/N) didn’t care much about what poor girl Andre was trying to pick up this time, he didn’t care much about any of the people Andre, Jordan, or Cate brought along with them, in fact. He was only here for Luke.

He watched the four supes pass the flask back and forth, laughing to themselves as they did. These were Luke’s friends, not his. They were on the same path as Luke, on their way to being big shot supes for Vought. (Y/N) was on his way to an early death or spending the rest of his life as a recluse on the edge of society, either one was fine with him. There was no love lost between him and Vought. He was content with being Luke’s childhood best friend who got dragged along because he knew realistically, one day soon, he wouldn’t even be that.

“Oh! Told you.” The sound of Andre’s voice (Y/N) diverted his full attention to the people around him. “This is Marie. She’s the one that I was telling you guys about.”

“Hey. I’m Luke.” Luke approached the girl. “Uh, this is Cate.”

“I know who you are.” (Y/N) almost laughed at the starstruck look on the girl’s face. Her eyes drifted from Luke to Cate and then shockingly to (Y/N). “I know every- nice to meet you.”

“Uh, that’s (Y/N),” Luke pointed to him, and he gave Marie a nod of acknowledgment. “And that’s Jordan.”

“Yeah, we’ve met.”

“You gonna reject me from this outing, too?” Marie said, and at that, (Y/N) did laugh.

“I’d love to.” Jordan snapped, but Andre stepped in between the two of them.

“No, play nice.” Andre said. “Or I will not share my drugs with you.”

Andre opened the door of Luke’s car for Cate, and (Y/N) finally moved from his spot in the darkness to approach the group.

“Come on, we’ll take my car,” Luke said to Marie, and as soon as (Y/N) was in touching distance, he reached over and grabbed him. “You’re with me too.”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, “Obviously.”

Luke just smiled at him, pushing him toward the car before opening the driver-side door to get in. (Y/N) didn’t bother with the seat belt as Luke drove off but was pleasantly amused that Marie had. He opened the window, lighting up another cigarette.

“Put that shit out,” Luke called from the driver's seat, and (Y/N) simply took a drag blowing it in Luke’s direction with a smug smile. Marie eyed the two carefully, but Luke just laughed off (Y/N)'s action. “Not everyone’s lungs can heal on demand, (Y/N).”

“Pity.”

Marie was quiet throughout the drive, only speaking when directly spoken to. (Y/N) almost pitied the poor girl, and he hoped he was wrong about Andre’s intentions with her. She was too quiet and innocent by the way her eyes widened when (Y/N) broke out a baggy of white powder to just be another notch on Andre’s bedpost.

When they pulled onto the block where Seven Tower stood tall, (Y/N) caught Luke’s eye through the rearview mirror. Luke shrugged, smiling, and (Y/N) just shook his head. If (Y/N) thought Marie was starstruck before, it was nothing compared to the look in the girl’s eyes as they climbed up to the roof of the tower.

“Holy shit.” She said under her breath, and (Y/N) let out a soft laugh.

“It’s something alright.” (Y/N) said, and Marie was startled, as if she’d forgotten he was there. She gave him a small smile and a nod, walking to the set of stairs that led to a small elevated platform near the ledge.

(Y/N) let her walk off, making his way over to where Andre had started taking bottles and baggies out of his bag. (Y/N) watched as Luke spotted Marie and left the group to walk in her direction. He frowned to himself, but his attention was quickly caught by the bottle being shoved into his hands by Andre.

“I can’t believe you’re here, dude,” Andre said as (Y/N) tipped the bottle back, gagging slightly as he did so. Andre slung his arm over (Y/N)'s shoulder, making the bottle spill slightly on Jordan, who was standing next to him. “I bet Jordan a hundred bucks that you would make up an excuse not to come.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at Jordan who just laughed, “I did not take the bet.”

“I tried.” (Y/N) said, passing the bottle to Cate. “Luke wouldn’t have it.”

“Thank god for that.” Andre shoved a bagging into his hand.

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur to (Y/N) between the booze and the drugs. There were times in his life when he was grateful for the Compound V flowing through his veins, and every single time was when he’d consumed enough substances to kill an average human.

He doesn’t remember how they got to the club, and he vaguely remembers Cate pushing the bouncer into letting them in with no questions asked. His memory kicked back in as soon as Luke got him to take a seat on the mysteriously sticky club chairs. (Y/N) gave a grateful hum as his ass hit the leather, sinking in and letting his head fall back against the back of the chair.

“You guys in?” Andre asked, waving around yet another baggy.

“Is that cocaine?” Marie said, and once again the word innocent popped up in (Y/N)'s mind.

“(Y/N) finished all the coke-” (Y/N) smacked them on the arm. “It’s Molly.”

“Hey, I don’t really fuck with powders.” Luke said, leaning in close to Marie. “ “But I do microdose shrooms.”

“So what do you say freshman?”

“Um.” Marie gave an awkward laugh. “No thank you.”

“You know I could take my glove off and make you.” Cate said, “I won’t. Cause I’m all about consent. But I could, so you should.”

(Y/N) thought he made a comment at Cate’s statement, but he couldn’t remember if it was in his head or if he managed to say it out loud. It didn’t matter as Marie nervously licked her finger and stuck it in the open bag, taking the drugs to the delight of the young adults around her. Before Marie could process what happened, Cate dragged her away to dance.

“I told you.” Andre said.

“Yeah. She’s cool.” Jordan smiled, and (Y/N) gave a hum.

“She’s innocent.” He said, and all eyes turned to him as if they’d forgotten he was there.

“She’s just a freshman.” Luke said. “We were innocent once.”

(Y/N) gave a noncommittal shrug, and Luke frowned at the motion. Jordan stood up, giving them all an excuse about getting drinks, and (Y/N) let himself fall back into his hazy bliss.

Andre and Luke continued to talk around him. (Y/N) was included in this conversation, but he doesn't remember if he said anything, and if he did, he doesn't remember what. He remembers Luke telling Andre about his upcoming move into Seven Tower, and he remembers Andre practically tackling Luke off the seats in excitement.

“There she is,” Luke said as Jordan sat back down, and (Y/N) opened his eyes, taking in Jordan’s new appearance.

“You changed. Why?”

“Cause I fucking felt like it.” Jordan said, and (Y/N) whispered a small “Good for you’” that Jordan chuckled at. “Also free drinks.”

“True. Cheers.”

“To the Seven.” Andre said, and Jordan’s eyebrow furrowed in confusion before it clicked in their head. “Fucking Seven.”

“Quiet down. I just told you.” Luke tapped his glass against Andre’s anyway.

“You gotta invite me to the Tower.” Andre said, leaning back into the leather. “Cause I crush hard on A-train. A speedster in bed?”

“Making a mental note right now to never invite you.”

“It is the least surprising surprise ever, but congrats. When do you start?”

“You mean when do I leave so you can finally be ranked number one?” Luke joked, but Jordan just scoffed.

“Please. That’d be great but the trustees think I’m too confusing. No way I’ll be number one.” They said, bitterness lacing their tone like venom.

“The trustees put you in the orientation video.” (Y/N) rolled his eyes at Andre’s statement.

“Yeah, so they could suck their own dicks about how progressive they are.”

“Okay, well Brink does carry a lot of weight with them and he loves you.” Luke tried to reassure them. “I mean you’re like his favorite son/daughter. I think you got a shot.”

“You’re thinking of (Y/N),” Jordan said, pointing at the man in question as they did so. “His actual son.”

“Adopted.” (Y/N) mumbled, unsure if his voice was carrying across the table with all the noise around them.

“Still, if he’s gonna make anyone number one it’ll be you.” (Y/N) made a face at the statement which got him a few laughs from the people around him.

“(Y/N) will have to be sober for more than three hours if he wants to be number one.” Andre said, and (Y/N) just flipped him the bird. “Plus he’ll have to actually start attending his combat classes.”

“Fuck combat.” (Y/N) said, and Andre simply pointed at him as if to say ‘See I told you so.’

“Still, it’ll be either (Y/N) or Andre, as much as that pisses me off.” Jordan shrugged, and (Y/N) could see that it bothered them more than they were letting on. In a more stable state, and if it wasn’t Jordan Li, he might have tried to offer words of assurance. But as it was, he was losing his battle with the fog that was threatening to overtake him completely at any second, and he really only tried to use his words with Luke.

“That- that responsibility and having to work with my dad.” Andre shivered. “Fuck that. That’s all you. I will cheer you on as I continue to suck and fuck my little heart out.”

(Y/N) hummed in agreement, an all too familiar blackness softening the edges of his vision.

“But you, you worked your fucking ass of for this. And I’m proud of you.” Andre said to Luke. “I love you man.”

“Love you.”

Andre left them after that, someone catching his eye from across the room, and (Y/N) let himself fade further into the fog. He vaguely registered Luke talking to him, but he doesn’t remember what about or if he even managed a response. At some point, Jordan had relaxed into his side, mumbling something nonsensical into his ear. But the next thing he truly remembers is being hauled off the couch urgently, the sound of screams echoing around him.

The incident itself is blurry, overshadowed by the screaming and sudden dizziness that came with being hauled to his feet way too fast. He remembers people calling out his name for help, and Jordan telling them-

“No way. He’s too high to try and do something. He’ll just make it worse.”

And he remembers watching Marie kneel to the ground, hand outstretched towards a girl lying on the floor bloody. There’s cheers and murmurs as she stands up, outfit ruined by blood, and the group of them rush out of the club into the chilled air.

After that it all goes black.

He coughed, chest twinging in pain, as the alarm went off. He threw back five painkillers and kept the lights off as he dressed. As he gathered his papers for Brink, throwing them haphazardly into his bag, he decided two things-

One: He was never blindly agreeing to anything Luke asked him ever again.

Two: He was going to kill Luke’s friends, Luke, and then possibly himself if his head didn’t stop pounding by the time he walked over to Brink’s office.

He’d hoped that years of near constant substance abuse would train his abilities into curing hangovers as fast as they did cuts and bruises, but it seems his powers hadn’t quite gotten with the program yet. Still he was grateful that the longest they ever seemed to last was a few hours.

He made his way through campus like a dead man, hood up and eyes down. His research wasn’t due, if one could call a favor for their adoptive father due, till later in the day, and as the sun blinded him, he considered just going back to his dorm and waiting the hangover out in the darkness. But (Y/N) didn’t plan on being sober come four o’clock, and he was hoping to push any lectures Brink had on how a supe should present themself in public till later in the semester.

When he reached the crime fighting building he really wished he’d just given into his whims and gone back to his dorm.

“What the fuck? Luke?” (Y/N) shouted, rushing over to where Andre and Marie were standing across from his best friend. His very much on fire, best friend.

“Fuck everyone else. It’s just me and you.” Andre said as Luke looked around them frantically. Andre didn’t even notice (Y/N)'s approach, his eyes solely focused on the man in front of him. “You know I love you.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” Luke responded.

“Hey.” Andre caught sight of (Y/N) as soon as (Y/N) reached him. He grabbed (Y/N)'s arm, forcing him to take a step closer to Luke whose eyes were frantically looking between his two best friends. “Look (Y/N)'s here, whatever happened just tell us and we’ll get through it.”

Luke’s flames went out, and he rushed the two men. (Y/N) barely registered Marie’s shout behind him before Luke engulfed Andre in a hug. The two men spoke lowly to one another, and as quick as he had rushed Andre Luke pulled away, looking to (Y/N).

His cheeks were stained with tears, and he began to sob even harder when he made eye contact with (Y/N). Luke collapsed into (Y/N)'s arms, causing him to stumble back.

“Luke, what’s going on?” (Y/N) whispered, a lump forming in his throat.

“I am so sorry. I love you, and I’m so sorry.” Luke sobbed into his shoulder, and (Y/N) held him tighter.

“I love you too.” His eyes watered as he spoke. “Luke, you’re scaring me, what the fuck is going on?”

“I am so sorry, but I had to,” Luke said, and (Y/N) felt tears begin to slip down his cheeks. Luke turned his head, whispering something in (Y/N)'s ear that made him freeze. He loosened his hold on Luke, pulling away just enough to look Luke in his eyes.

“Luke?”

“I am so sorry,” Luke said one last time, pressing a kiss to (Y/N)'s hair. (Y/N) watched, eyes wide, as Luke took a step back. He ignited himself, pushing off the ground and into the air. He watched as he flew higher and higher, getting brighter the higher he went until (Y/N) had to close his eyes to shield them from the light.

When (Y/N) opened his eyes again he was covered in blood. Luke’s blood.

#gen v #x male reader #x reader #x y/n #gen v x male reader #gen v x reader #gen v x you #luke riordan #jordan li #marie moreau #cate dunlap #andre anderson #marie moreau x reader #marie moreau x male reader #marie moreau x you #jordan li x male reader #jordan li x you #jordan li x reader #series: doomsday

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j-k-writes · 7 months ago

Text

Blood Upon the Snow - 2

Summary - Realistically, Jon Snow knows that Y/N is a different man than the boy he left behind. But he doesn't fully grasp just how different until he sees for himself.

Warnings - General GOT warnings, canon character death(s), mention of past death and resurrection, trauma, dissociation (from an outsider's perspective), some implied heating touches between adopted brothers.

“Again.”

“Your Grace-”

“Again.”

At Y/N’s harsh tone, the men around him straightened, even Jon tensed where he stood. The men hurried into formation silently, and Y/N resumed his relentless beatings. Jon winced every time Y/N’s blade made contact with someone, the sound of the blunted blade against leather echoing through the yard with the force of the hit.

At some point through the fourth, or was it fifth, run through, Sansa joined Jon at his position on the side of the yard. She had a small frown as she watched her elder brother swing his sword with a methodical yet animalistic precision.

She turned to Jon as Y/N once again demanded another round, “He’s changed.”

“We all have.” Sansa’s frown deepened at his response.

“I know that it’s just-” She sighed, turning her gaze over to where Y/N was relentlessly pursuing a man Jon did not know. “He’s more different than I expected.”

“He died,” Jon said a-matter-of-factly. War can only change a man so much, but death? Jon knows firsthand just how much death changed you. The man training in front of him might look and sound like his brother, but he wasn’t really him. His brother died at the Red Wedding, and a stranger took his place.

“You should talk to him,” Sansa said, and Jon sighed. He’d been subjected to this argument since their first night in Winterfell. “You’re the only one in Westeros who knows how he feels.”

Truthfully, Jon wasn’t intentionally keeping his death a secret from Y/N. Every time he opened his mouth to tell the man about their shared experience, he froze, and the moment fell away. They spent almost every night together in the Godswood, praying and speaking to each other in soft tones under the snow and moonlight. Every night, Jon had the opportunity to tell the truth, and every night, Jon couldn’t.

It was simply that Jon felt sick at the idea of tainting the one thing that seemed to bring his brother peace. The weight Y/N carried with him everywhere he went seemed to fall away under the eyes of their gods. He smiled easier and laughed in a way that threw Jon back three years. The memory of the Y/N he’d left behind wasn’t just a memory in the Godswood, he was there in front of Jon- he was there just for Jon.

So Jon couldn’t tell him. Not yet.

“Your Grace,” Jon called out, and everyone in the yard, including Y/N, paused. “Perhaps you should give the men a break. You’ve been out here all day.”

Y/N froze at his words, his eyes flickering up to the sky. The sun was setting, and the snow was falling harder around the castle. He watched a variety of emotions flicker across the man’s face before he nodded and let the men around him take their leave. Jon walked over to his brother in fast strides, recognizing the start of the spiral he’d become overly familiar with during the past weeks.

“Do not,” Jon said, batting his brother’s hands away from his leather armor. Y/N’s lack of resistance to Jon’s actions told him everything he needed to know. “It is not your fault.”

Y/N sighed, letting Jon undo his armor silently. Sansa joined them briefly, giving them both a kiss on the cheek before also taking her leave into the castle. She murmured something to Y/N that Jon could not hear, and their brother just nodded his head, still silent. Jon put Y/N’s armor and training sword away, and when he returned, Y/N was still standing there, eyes trained on the muddy ground in front of them.

He spoke as Jon approached, “I did it again.”

“Come inside,” Jon said softly, grabbing the man’s arm gently. “We can talk by the fire, just for tonight.”

“Is it cold?” Y/N sounded genuinely confused, and Jon knew it was going to be a bad night.

‘It’s always cold.’ Jon thought, but for the sake of Y/N’s mind he bit his tongue. Instead he gently coaxed the man back inside the warmth of the castle, leading him to his chambers.

Servants and lords attempted to speak to them as they walked, but Jon dodged their questions, practically dragging Y/N behind him. Y/N was still silent when they reached his chambers, and Jon maneuvered him into a chair by the fire. When he got the fire going, too nervous about Y/N’s silent state to call for a servant, he approached his brother slowly.

“Y/N?” Jon asked, kneeling in front of the man. His brother hummed thoughtlessly at the sound of his name and Jon just sighed. “Alright.”

The first time Y/N had one of these episodes in front of him, Jon had frozen, unsure of what was wrong. But this was the fifth time Y/N had ‘left,’ as Jon had taken to calling it in his mind, and Jon was pretty confident in his ability to handle them. He was still unsure of what exactly would trigger them, it seemed to happen at random on the bad days. Things that would trigger an episode one day would leave Y/N completely unaffected the next, and vice versa. They passed on their own, and all Jon could do was make sure that Y/N didn’t accidentally hurt himself in the time it took for him to come back to himself. So Jon just took a seat next to the man, resting his head gently on Y/N’s knee.

It only took an hour for Y/N to come back to himself this time, the shortest time by far, Jon noted. The man above him tensed, and Jon spoke, “It’s alright.”

“It happened again.” Y/N didn’t sound upset, just empty, and somehow, that made Jon feel worse.

Jon picked his head up, meeting Y/N’s eyes, “Yes.”

His brother frowned, slumping in his seat. “Where?”

“In the yard.”

“How many-” Y/N paused, swallowing. His voice was quiet when he continued. “How many saw?”

“Y/N-”

“How many?” Jon shivered at his tone.

“A lot.” Y/N cursed under his breath, and Jon continued. “Sansa saw, the men training in the yard as well, and the servants and lords we passed on the way here.”

“Gods.”

“It’s not your fault.” Jon tried to reassure him but Y/N just scoffed.

“Whose fault is it, Jon?” Again, he didn’t sound upset and Jon ached to feel just a bit of anger from his brother. Y/N was always the more even-tempered of the two of them, much like his twin Robb, but in recent weeks Jon had seen just how much anger the young king could wield. He preferred the red-hot rage Y/N held inside of him now to this apathy, Jon could deal with anger, he could fix anger. He couldn’t fix this.

“Blame the gods.” Y/N made a face at Jon’s statement. “Blame the Freys and the Boltons, but do not blame yourself.”

“I am the broken one.”

Jon sighed, moving from his spot on the floor and kneeling in front of Y/N. He took Y/N’s hands in his, and the man looked at him. The vacant look in his brother’s eyes made Jon frown. “You are not broken.”

“Jon I-” Y/N paused, before sighing and pulling his hands free from Jon’s grip. “Just leave.”

“Y/N-”

“Please, Jon.” Y/N begged, “Just leave me.”

Begrudgingly Jon relented, brushing a few stray hairs from Y/N’s forehead as he stood. He let his hand fall to Y/N’s shoulder giving it a light squeeze, “Get some sleep.”

Y/N was silent as Jon left the room.

‘Sansa was wrong.’ Jon thought as he entered his chambers. ‘I don’t know how he feels.’

Jon may have died and come back to life, but whatever magic the Red Witch used to bring him back seemed different than the one used to bring Y/N back. Jon felt like a man living on borrowed time, but he doubted Y/N felt much like a man at all.

It took Y/N missing four dinners for Sansa to finally snap.

Jon woke up to Sansa’s raised voice coming through the stone wall separating his chambers from Y/N’s. He hurried out of bed at the sound of Y/N’s voice rising to match Sansa’s, not even bothering to dress properly as he practically ran to Y/N’s chambers. Jon threw the door open, and they both paused at the sound it made when it hit the wall.

Sansa paled at the sight of Jon in the room, clasping a hand over her mouth. Y/N couldn’t see him from where he was standing, but at the look on Sansa’s face, he turned around, freezing as soon as he laid eyes on Jon. His eyes trailed up and down Jon’s bare torso, but not in the way Jon was used to people looking at him, his eyes were wide in shock and horror.

That’s when Jon remembered the scars.

He doesn’t know how he forgot them, as hyper-aware he was with making sure they were always covered from prying eyes. But Y/N’s eyes flickered between each horrid gash the knives left in his torso, and Jon had no doubt that his not-so-secret secret was finally out in the open.

“Jon,” Sansa said, and Jon suddenly remembered that she had never seen them either. She looked between her brothers, but Y/N’s eyes were still trained on Jon’s bare body.

“What-” Y/N said, voice tight. “Jon, what-”

Sansa made for the door, and Jon’s arm shot out to stop her hasty exit. She moved out of his way, shooting him a harsh look. She lowered her voice as she spoke. “You need to have this conversation with him alone.”

“Sansa-”

“This is your fault for putting it off for so long.” She said, before leaving the room and slamming the door behind her.

He turned back to where his brother was still standing there silently, and Jon feared he was going to have another episode. But before Jon could speak Y/N moved, crossing the room in fast strides. Jon shivered at the feeling of Y/N’s fingertips gingerly tracing the shape of his scars.

“Y/N?” Jon asked, voice at a whisper.

“What happened?” Y/N’s voice was stricken.

So Jon told him.

He avoided Y/N’s gaze as he spoke, eyes trained on the floor throughout the entire conversation. When he was done, Y/N was silent, and Jon cleared his throat. He made to take a step back, but Y/N grabbed him. Jon froze at the feel of cold hands on his waist

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jon looked up at the sound of Y/N’s voice. Y/N looked utterly crushed, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“I- I don’t know.” Jon admitted. “You have too much to worry about already, I didn’t want you to think you had to worry about me.”

“I will always worry about you, Jon.” Y/N raised his hand slowly up to Jon’s cheek. He cupped Jon’s cheek gently, fingers gently stroking the scar above his eyebrow.

“You don’t need to.” Jon said. “I’m fine.”

“No one comes back right, Jon.” Y/N frowned, “No one. Not me, not Dondarrion, not you, no one.”

“I-” Jon stuttered, but when his words never came he just shut his mouth. Y/N gave him a sad smile, fingers still gently tracing his scars. “Y/N?”

“Just promise me you’ll talk to me.” Y/N said.

“If you’ll talk to me.” Y/N let out a wet laugh, but he nodded nonetheless.

“Of course.” They stood there together, Y/N’s cold hands still caressing Jon’s skin, until a knock at the door startled them. They both jumped back from each other as a soft “Your Grace?” came from the other side of the door. Y/N cleared his throat, “Yes?”

“Lord Umber seeks an audience with you.”

“Tell him I’ll be right there.”

The footsteps retreated from the door, and Jon looked at Y/N. At the look on Jon’s face, Y/N started to laugh, a small, quiet laugh that was nothing like the carefree one he had throughout their childhood, but it was a laugh all the same, and at the sound of it, Jon began to laugh, too.

“You should probably go see to that.” Jon said in between laughs, but Y/N just shrugged.

“I’ll get it later.” He said, stepping into Jon’s space again. “We promised to talk.”

#x male reader #x reader #x y/n #jon snow x male reader #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #jon snow #game of thrones x male reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones x you #jon snow x y/n

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