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1800-fight-me · 18 days

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Death and His Lady

Death!Aemond Targaryen x Female Assassin!Reader

Rating: E (Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Extreme violence, explicit smut, allusions to reader having prior trauma

Word count: Almost 6k

Synopsis: As the King's assassin, Death becomes your most trusted confidant, but his influence along with unexpected events lead you down a path you never thought you'd walk.

Author’s note: I have literally been so excited about this fic I can't even deal with it!! Here's another gothic horror romance vibez fic from me! Thank you so much @lauraneedstochill for the beta read! Also the new trailer has me freaking all the way out so here we go! This fic is a rollercoaster ride and I really hope y'all enjoy it!!

I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

Aemond Masterlist

You courted with Death in this endeavor, that you were certain.

Death must be enamored with you, given how many times you have brushed against it. Once, Death held even you in his arms, his embrace warm, but you spun free before he could sink his claws in you.

This time, you weren’t sure you’d be able to outwit him.

Like a fox evading a hound, you toyed with Death, amused at his growing frustration at your continued escapes.

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you enjoyed being chased as much as you believed he enjoyed chasing you.

But now, as blood spurted from your lips, your vision hazy, you thought you might very well fully succumb to Death’s clutches today.

“No,” you groaned as the vision of him flickered in your view.

White hair, pale skin, one eye of sapphire and one of violet, a jagged scar down his face, clothes of all black to match the black feathered wings at his back.

He looked like an angel- the fallen avenging kind, and he smirked as he cocked his head at you, the promise of conquest in his gaze.

There was a yearning deep in your chest, a desire to have his attentions on you and only you, a pull that left you intoxicated at the sight of him. Perhaps that was why you continued this game.

It was one you could only ever lose.

The wooden chair you were tied to as the men mercilessly beat you groaned in protest from the backwards momentum of your body as your enemy landed another punch, blood spurting again.

You were too far gone for quick witted comebacks, for speaking at all. Being the king’s most trusted spy and assassin was always a dangerous job, but one you flourished in.

Today, however, was particularly dangerous it seemed. You couldn’t even remember what information the men wanted from you anymore.

It didn’t matter, you would never give anything away, you’d sooner greet Death like an old friend than betray your kingdom.

He flickered in your vision once again. His savage beauty was a welcome sight. Like a fallen prince. Like an avenging angel. Like your heart’s darkest desires.

Perhaps it would be a relief to sink into his embrace, to give up, to cease the fight.

His expression changed, no longer self satisfactory, no- he looked angry with you as he strode across the dank dungeon to stand before you.

Time paused completely and you let out a gasping breath of relief as fists paused from meeting your skin.

He leaned down so his face was close enough that your nose nearly brushed his, like a lover would, but no- fury filled his gaze.

“Fight,” he growled at you.

“I can’t,” you gasped.

“You can and you will,” he ordered, “you will not give up and die. Today is not the day.”

Some deep primal part of you woke at those words, at the steel in his tone, at his orders. And the rage and fury inside of him reminded you of your own and it filled you once more. Filled you to fight, to survive.

You would not lay down and die today.

He smirked as he saw the change in your eyes. He brushed a whisper of a kiss to your lips, soft and swift enough that it hardly even counted as a real kiss, but it ignited a flame in you and when your eyes fluttered back open, he was gone.

The tie around your wrists had been cut and as time started again, you caught the fist aimed at your face and you fought.

You gave Death a tribute as your torturers met their bitter end at your violent hands.

Maybe that was why he had always seemed willing to let you go, you mused, you were practically his handmaiden with the amount of souls you gave him, the amount of lives you ended brutally.

You walked out of that dungeon battered and bloody, but alive enough to continue your game with Death, to live for another day.

This game had gone on for years, but never once had he interfered the way he did today, never once had he prevented you from passing over into his realm. No, every other time it had been your own grit and guile.

Today, Death showed his hand when he prevented you from dying.

He enjoyed the chase as much as you did, that you were certain, and you were determined to continue it.

————————————————————

You knelt before your king and the silver white of his hair brought up the memory of your obsession. They say that Targaryens are closer to gods than men. Your death god was testimony of that.

Once, when curiosity won over practicality, you spend days in the royal library researching and reading about all of the Targaryen ancestors until you found a book weathered and brown from age that contained artist renditions and you found him.

Your personal demon was Aemond Targaryen, rider of the legendary Vhagar, harbinger of death even in his mortal life.

You read everything you could about his life, drinking in every aspect of his personality that you could learn about him. You were infatuated, perhaps even loved him after his actions to save you.

Your king told you to rise and you reported to him the events of the past few days, leaving out details about your kiss with Death.

The king’s looks were nowhere near the godlike chiseled beauty of his ancestor, you mused as he told you of your next mission. Although it’s not like you were one to talk, earlier as healers cleaned off all the blood and stitched up your cuts, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and had to look away from your bruised and battered form, you were nearly unrecognizable.

“Rest for a few days, then take your leave,” the King ordered.

“Yes, your majesty,” you bowed, then left the throne room.

You retreated to your chambers and immediately tumbled into bed. Sleep took you swiftly and deeply, and like the night after every other near Death experience, he was waiting for you in your dreams.

You asked him once how it worked, and he explained that the veil was always thin after your near crossovers, and he was able to influence your dreams.

And influence them he did… you whimpered as his cock filled you to the absolute brim.

He grunted and pulled your lips to his, tongue tangling with your own, and you wrapped your thighs around his trim waist pulling him closer, wanting him as close as possible.

The angle changed and you shivered, despite the heat of his sweat slicked skin, as he hit the spot inside of you that made you forget anything but him.

“Aemond,” you moaned and he stopped his movement, became still as Death.

“How do you know that name?” He asked, his hand on the side of your neck as he pulled back enough to meet your gaze.

His voice was low and cold, dangerous.

You took a shuddering breath.

“I researched, I needed to know more about the one who haunts me,” you said, putting steel in your voice despite your nerves.

Amusement flickered in his expression, “I knew I picked the right woman.”

“You probably say that to all the assassins you save,” you teased.

He chuckled darkly and you clenched down on his length where he still remained inside you.

His chuckle turned into a growl and he unleashed himself on you, filling you and your heart’s blackest desire.

In the darkest part of the night his sounds of ecstasy tangled with your own until you both found release in one another, the type of release you’d never found with anyone else, and a feeling of comfort and satisfaction unlike any other filled your chest.

With him, you felt whole, but that feeling dwindled as you woke the next morning in your bed alone.

————————————————————

“Lady Death,” the pirate king before you said in an attempt to flatter you.

His handsomeness was average, nothing exciting or remotely comparable to the sharp features of your devilishly handsome death god.

His words clanged inside you and hit upon something true and vital. But, you could not show your reaction.

“Skull King,” you replied, your lips pursed as you lifted your chin.

He laughed, like a sword scraping over stones, and your hand drifted towards the dagger strapped to your thigh.

“You are more beautiful than any descriptions I’ve ever heard,” he said.

“I do not leave many alive to describe me,” you said back with considerable bite in your tone.

He merely laughed once more and waved a hand at you.

“Let us cease with the back and forth and discuss why I am truly here,” you demanded.

“What does your king want?” He asked with a sigh.

“For you to cease your pillaging of the costal villages,” you said.

He narrowed his eyes at you, “And why would he send you to negotiate with me?”

“He knew you would not want or need riches as a bribe. I offer you my services. In exchange for no longer attacking our villages, I will assassinate an enemy of your choice,” you explained.

His broad feral grin was an answer in itself.

————————————————————

“Lady Death Lady Death Lady Death” a deep dark voice hissed at you from the inky black.

Eyes blinked open, shining bright, one sapphire and one violet, and you jolted awake.

You took a shuddering breath, your skin slick with sweat. It had been weeks since you’d seen or heard from Death, and you’d spend that time trying to forget about your last encounter, though your efforts were entirely futile.

But the pirate king’s words to you yesterday had shaken something awake inside you.

You shook your head and arose from your bed, as you readied yourself, strapping an ungodly amount of weapons to your body, you cleared your mind and prepared yourself for another day of offering your midnight lover tributes.

You crept across rooftops, having spent the entire day and most of the night tracking the Skull King’s most bitter rival.

Honestly this whole rivalry seemed trivial to you, but you would do as you were bid.

The man was a piss-poor drunk, having bought himself and the whole bar rounds and rounds of drinks. You watched through the crack in the ceiling as he pulled a barmaid onto his lap despite her protests.

Certainly, now you were more than happy to be the bringer of his death. You gritted your teeth and reminded yourself of patience as he squeezed her curves and she pushed off him, managing to disentangle herself from his drunk and reeking presence.

He yelled after her, slurred and vile words that had you gripping your favorite dagger.

Just wait, just wait, just wait, you reminded yourself. There was to be only one death tonight. If you unleashed yourself now the death toll would be far too great and the act would be sloppy, more easily tracked and blame pinned quickly on the guilty parties.

So you continued to watch and finally when he stumbled to the alley to relieve himself as you knew he would, you crept off the roof and hid yourself in the shadows.

Death himself stood there where the rogue pirate should be. Your heart stumbled but you managed to stop yourself from gasping.

“My lady,” he purred and bowed. Death bowed before you then stepped aside and gestured to the man you were targeting, the man whose life only had moments left.

As Aemond faded back into the shadows, you knew he was still watching, and you blinked twice, gave yourself a second for one steadying breath, then moved.

The man’s back was to you and it took little effort to leap upon his back and slit his throat.

Blood sprayed and you jumped off his back, retreating quick enough that as his body fell to the ground, it did not hit you.

You waited the moments it took for the gurgling noise of him choking on his own blood to cease and made certain he was well and truly in Death’s grasp before you yanked the ring off his finger, the proof of a job well done, and turned to leave.

Before you turned completely, you saw Death as he crouched over the bloodied body, he shot you a wink and you shuddered as you ran off.

You covered your tracks, and when you were certain there would be no possibility of the death being traced back to you, you returned to the office of the Skull King.

You slipped through the shadows and waited for him, lounging in his chair like you owned it- like it was your throne.

When he entered, you threw a knife so that it buried itself in the wall close enough to his head that he felt the whisper of its kiss.

He glared at you and you smirked.

“It’s done,” you said and threw the ring at him.

He caught it, his expression torn between impressed and still angry at your nonverbal threat.

“It needn’t be said, but I can end your life just as easily should you not uphold your end of the bargain,” you said. His face blanched at the tone of your voice, the look in your eye that held Death.

He nodded slightly and with one more smirk at him, you vanished into the dark.

You scrubbed the blood off you and prepared yourself for a night’s rest before beginning your journey back to King’s Landing.

————————————————————

This was the first night Death appeared to you in your dreams even though you hadn’t nearly greeted him in the afterlife.

“How?” You asked breathlessly as his lips broke from yours to create a blazing trail of fire across your jaw and down the side of your neck.

“You are mine, and as you do your king’s bidding- slaughtering - our bond strengthens and so does your power,” he said and then ran his tongue up the column of your throat.

You gasped and you couldn’t tell if it was due to his words or his tongue.

You are mine. You are mine. You are mine.

The words echoed in your brain as his lips trailed down your body to your core where he pleasured you with that wicked tongue.

Every time you killed after that night, he appeared in your dreams, joining your bodies in ecstacy and strengthening that connection.

He appeared in a vision every time you unleashed yourself in violence and spilled blood, ending lives, and living up to your new infamous title that rippled across the seven kingdoms, Lady Death.

You no longer lived in the shadows, you became the shadows within men fell.

————————————————————

In the following months, the King kept you busier than ever. You weren’t certain if it was due to the power that your growing reputation provided him or if he wanted to keep you away, that same reputation striking fear into his own heart.

Lately you hardly completed a mission before you received correspondence from the King with instructions for your next kill.

He kept you far away from King’s Landing. It was fine with you, that den of vipers was never your home anyway. You didn’t have a true home. Perhaps that was why the embrace of Death felt like home.

These days you hardly scrubbed the blood off you before you were covered in more. You killed nearly daily. Your connection with Death strengthened, to the point that his presence became near constant, in your waking hours and in your dreams.

The more he appeared, the more you could feel it, that sensation like something prowled beneath your skin begging to burst forward and shatter the world.

There had been no mention again of powers, but yet you could feel them growing.

Months passed, and the first time they manifested, you leveled a building.

You were trapped, well and truly, and it was due to your careless fatal mistake, overconfidence having become a rampant part of your personality due to your successes, and the strength of the death god who worshiped you.

You were surrounded, having not been careful enough to ensure your targets were alone, too cocky that you wouldn’t be followed, and now you fought against twelve men.

”Kill them,” Aemond hissed from where he stood behind you, his rage growing stronger and directly influencing your own emotions.

You could not determine where his emotions began and yours ended, so entangled the two of you had become.

You tried, you used all of your skill, all of your strength, and it was not enough as the sword sunk into your gut.

You hadn’t been this close to joining Death in the afterlife in a long while.

“End them, destroy, and take what is yours,” Aemond growled through clenched teeth.

You knew he would not do it for you, if he did then you wouldn’t be who he thought you were, who he needed you to be, who he loved.

And you could feel it again, that thing that prowled beneath your skin begging to be released.

So you became Death Incarnate as liquid fire filled your eyes and soul and exploded from your body. Black cold flames that instantly killed everyone they touched.

“Good,” Aemond urged, those same wild flames in his eye. He pressed a kiss to your throat and the flames only grew stronger.

His hand grazed your stomach, healing the wound.

Your chest heaved as you took ragged breaths and surveyed the carnage around you.

The fire grew out of control as you started to panic, but with Death’s careful instruction, you grounded yourself and reeled it all back in.

You stood, dead bodies littered the ground around you, and only moved when the building groaned and threatened to fall atop you.

You walked out of the ruined structure side by side with Death, as it crumbled behind you, leaving devastation in your wake.

————————————————————

One night, during a dream, as you lay breathless in his arms after you both reached such high peaks at one another’s tongues, you asked him the question that had been so heavy on your mind.

“Why me?” you asked curiously.

“Hm?”

His fingers traced patterns on your back. You turned your head from its place in his neck- you were half lying on his chest, and looked over at his wing.

“Why did you choose me?”

He chuckled softly. “Never before have I seen someone turn Death into such a beautiful game. You intrigued me.”

You brushed a finger down the most sensitive part of his wing and he shuddered.

“And now?” you asked.

“And now, sweet temptress, you have convinced me to devote the entirety of my eternal being to you,” he growled before flipping you over suddenly so you were beneath him.

You grinned at him, breathless and in wonder, and had no words, so you simply pulled his mouth to yours and proved to him how utterly devoted you were to him as well.

————————————————————

It took time and Aemond’s careful instruction- months as you continued killing daily, fulfilling the King’s requirements, but you learned to control your newfound powers, that death fire. Still you couldn’t hide their manifestation in your eyes when you were angry or prepared to kill.

You stood before your King once more and offered a several months long report detailing your actions since you last saw him.

“Do not leave out any details,” he warned you through narrowed eyes.

You pursed your lips and revealed as little information as you could about this magic, these powers that have recently manifested, but enough to please him.

You knew he’d gotten reports, you rarely left eyewitnesses, but still rumors spread, you could hardly downplay it.

You saw the wariness in his expression.

Death manifested at your side.

“Kill him,” he murmured.

You ignored him, continuing to report to the King.

“When were you going to tell me of this new magic you wield?” He asked, distrust in his voice.

“End him, take his power for your own, sit on the Iron Throne,” Death whispered in your ear, purring like a lover.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you in months, my King, you’ve kept me busy far away from the Red Keep, one could only wonder why,” you said, with only a little bit of bite.

The King narrowed his eyes at you once more.

“I do not have to explain my decisions to you. Your role is to serve and not question,” he sneered.

For the first time while you were awake, you could feel Aemond’s hands on you. The bond between the two of you was stronger than ever as he stood behind you and intertwined his fingers with yours. He slowly brought your intertwined hands down from the small of your waist to the front of your hip- threatening to go lower, an echo - a memory of the night before he knew he triggered by that action.

You remembered your dream last night, in a very similar position except then you sat before a mirror as he guided you to touch yourself, to aid him in giving you release, insisting you watch yourself as you moaned his name in ecstacy and he poured honey filled praises in your ear. He pulled two releases from you, forcing your eyes back on yourself, before he finally filled you, and the sight of him inside you, both your expressions twisted in pleasure, was the most erotic sight of all.

The memory flashed in your eyes and you saw his current actions for what they were, a blatant attempt at seduction, as he used that same deep velvety voice as when he was trying to make you come, as his lips grazed your ear and beautiful silver hair fell over your shoulder, as he said, “Kill him, my love.”

And you thought…

You thought he might be right.

Maybe you should kill this condescending king. You were more powerful than him. You were more powerful than everyone but your lover, no, to Aemond you were his equal.

His Lady Death, and maybe it was finally time to take what was your own, to use your skills and powers for yourself, not in the service of others, not in the service of a king who didn’t appreciate you.

You indeed felt that power within you begin to rise to the surface.

And the king blanched, fear changing his expression.

“What are you?” He gasped.

And just like that, the fire that had begun to build inside you, which you were sure was molten in your eyes, sputtered out as if water had been thrown on you.

“Your loyal servant,” you murmured with a curtsey.

Death growled his discontentment, but you ignored him.

The king nodded, his lips pursed, and dismissed you.

For the first time in a long long time, you were uncertain of your own actions and choices.

————————————————————

Two weeks later, you were in the North with a list of targets from the king to dispatch.

The image of the king’s fear of you constantly flashed in your mind, regret and pride creating an uncomfortable cocktail of emotions within you.

The regret was waning as Death continued as your constant companion, seducing and urging you forward.

Your days became routine, although it was a comforting routine.

Wake up, eat, train your magic, prepare, kill, be rewarded in the form of Aemond fucking you, sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

The last name on your list of kills in the North was one you were actually eager for. This kill you would savor rather than committing without feeling. This time, you were able to use your skills for both your King and your own gain.

This man had been one of your tormentors in your youth, you’d never had the time to track him down after he fled from King’s Landing, and now you would grant him the slow painful death he deserved.

He sat in his home, a candle in the window, and you knew the timing was right. You’d watched him for days and knew you had a window of time of about two hours before his preferred courtesan arrived.

Hate had your heart beating like a drum, your power rising, but you stifled it. You had to be clear headed and you didn’t want to use your powers to grant him an instant death, no, he deserved something wholly different. You wanted to feel his death, his blood on your own hands.

You snuck through the back door, through the broken lock you’d disabled the night before.

You ensured you were well and truly alone- besides your Angel of Death, creeping through the dark house towards your quarry.

You stepped into the sitting room and relished the way his eyes widened in fear, then recognition as you threw back your hood.

He breathed out a name, not one of your many titles, a name from a past life, a name no one besides Death knew, a name not even your king knew.

The flames in your eyes guttered, replaced by cold rage.

His eyes again filled with fear as you threw a dagger that embedded itself in his shoulder.

A yell of pain and outrage as he tried to stand, but quick as an asp another dagger fled from your hand and buried itself into his other shoulder.

Another dagger was in your hand, poised to throw if necessary.

He gritted his teeth, blood flowing heavily, and you smirked.

“Bitch,” he spat out.

Aemond appeared behind you, and hissed in disapproval.

Anger fell to cold terror as he beheld the Death God behind you.

His haunting beauty, both terrible and great, that was the other side of the coin to your own- that made you the perfect pair.

“You can see him?” you asked.

He nodded and the smell of urine filled the room.

“Interesting,” you murmured even as your nose wrinkled at him.

“It’s high time I teach you what real fear feels like,” you purred, your words an echo of the ones he’d said to you in your girlhood.

And show him you did.

Even after you were done, your rage was a jagged thing in your chest that threatened to swallow you whole. You didn’t know how to put it back in that carefully constructed box that allowed you to play the part of the disinterested assassin.

Aemond crouched over the body, pressing two fingers to the forehead, sending the soul to the afterlife- to eternal torment, as he always did after you killed.

He was the beginning and end of the destruction you wreaked on others, on the world.

Slaughter, that was what you had done today. You couldn’t decide if it made you feel better or worse. You supposed it didn’t matter, the man was no longer capable of hurting others the way he had hurt you.

Death prowled to you, and you looked up at him, chest still heaving and beating hard from whatever today’s actions had both shattered and healed within it.

He stood close enough that his steady chest brushed against yours.

Dark flames danced in his gaze, the same that danced in your own when your emotions were heightened, you both had the same unholy powers as a result of your bond, your union.

And you knew he understood you completely, when he said nothing, for there were no words that would soothe now, no he simply leaned down and kissed you, thoroughly and deeply.

When he pulled back, only slightly, brushing his sharp nose against yours, he murmured, “You taste better when you mean it, when your heart is in the kill.”

You let him make love to you in the blood spattered room.

————————————————————

Your waking hours and dreams bled into one, so filled with him and the pleasure only he could provide.

This was indeed one of those moments, where the release he pulled from you was so strong, so heady, that you could not be certain if you were awake or dreaming.

You moaned as he gripped your hips and continued a brutal pace as he thrusted inside you.

Your power, his power, flames of Death danced and burned in the bed along with you as he joined himself with you.

You burned with heat, with love for the only one who truly understood you- your mirror image due to the brutality inside both of you.

But suddenly, he stopped.

“Wake up,” he ordered, an expression you’d never seen on his face before, something akin to panic.

“What?” you asked in confusion.

“Wake up!” he yelled, and at that primal dominance in his tone, you obeyed.

You held in your gasp as your eyes opened and you beheld the scene before you.

You were not alone. The room was filled with men all with weapons in their hands.

“The king sends his regards,” the assassin in your bed hissed as he lifted a dagger to thrust it into your heart.

You had less than a heartbeat to react.

Just as the sharp tip of the dagger broke your skin, black flames exploded out of you, ravaging the room and everyone in it.

You sat up, hand on your chest and blood coating your fingers, and surveyed your destruction.

The room was filled with fire. Every man was instantly dead, and now your black flames turned them to ashes.

Aemond stood in the center of your storm, and watched you, pride evident in his gaze.

Betrayal twisted in your gut, making you feel sick, and you extinguished the fire.

“He tried to kill me,” you rasped out.

Your angel of death, your protector, your lover in life and death nodded.

“He fears you and the power you hold. He is a jealous coward,” he said, cold anger filling every word.

“You were right,” you whispered, hoping that if you said them quietly enough that they wouldn’t be true.

He simply nodded again.

And it finally sunk in. The king you had devoted your entire adult life to, the king you had defiled yourself for through all manner of heinous acts of bloodshed, had betrayed you.

He had turned on you, quickly and easily, despite your continued loyalty. He’d sent a group of men to kill you in your sleep after you just finished killing everyone on his list.

He always had someone else do his dirty work, the coward he is, but usually you’re the one he sends out.

This time he’d sent others to kill you as if you were no more than a loose end, a task to check off his list, and inconvenience that had grown too taxing.

You met the heavy gaze of Death and said, “I know what I have to do.”

————————————————————

The entire journey back to the Red Keep Aemond reviewed and revised the plan with you over and over again.

You were ready. You were prepared.

All of the skills, techniques, and powers you had acquired you were going to use for your own gain, for yourself today - with Death at your side.

No one knew the secret passages of the Red Keep better than the King’s Assassin. You crept in at night, using the darkness as a cloak and remaining completely undetected.

You set yourself up high in the mezzanine above the throne room and settled in for a long wait.

Patience was key to your plan, to all of your plans generally, but it didn’t mean that the fury didn’t still burn as hot as ever.

You let the black flames twirl and dance around your fingers and promised yourself that this time, it would be different. This time, you would come out on top.

Hours passed, your legs cramped, but you ignored it, waiting, waiting, waiting for the right moment.

You watched as dawn broke, bathing the room in golden light that bounced off the Iron Throne.

The king eventually sat on that throne, meeting with petitioners, and you continued your game of patience.

Finally, the moment was right, the room was no longer teeming with people, but not empty enough that there wouldn’t be an audience.

You leapt from your hiding spot and landed nimbly right before him. Shock and fear changed his previously bored expression.

You smirked, a cutting spiteful thing, as you stood.

There was yelling from the king’s guards, but your midnight fire surrounded and circled the king and you, separating you both from everyone else in the room. The few who tried to cross it died instantly, the others learned from their mistakes and stepped back from your flames and watched.

“Surprised to see me?” You asked.

The blood drained from his face.

Satisfaction only fueled the righteous fury in your chest.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“You tried to kill me,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” he merely repeated.

“I have given EVERYTHING for you and to protect your rule. Have done EVERYTHING you asked. And this is how you reward me? By sending others to murder me in my sleep?” You said, lip curling in a snarl and angry tears pooling in your eyes.

Death became visible at your side, not behind you like your puppeteer- beside you as your equal. He was not only visible to you- no you knew he was always with you - he became visible to everyone in the room as your fire pulsed higher and hotter.

His hand on your back steadied and reassured you.

Gasps filled the room once more.

You glanced at Aemond, his long white hair juxtaposed against the black of his wings, his beauty something of dreams and nightmares. He had an intense look on his sharp face, but underneath it was love for you and only you.

The king looked at his ancestor, made eye contact with his own demise, then looked back at you.

“You were too dangerous to be kept alive,” he said.

“I was completely loyal to you until your lackey tried to stab me in the heart,” you spat.

“I suspect it will be the last mistake I ever make,” he said.

“That is correct,” Aemond replied, his voice smooth and confident.

“Kill him, my love,” Death urged. This time, you listened.

A ball of fire appeared in your hand as you bared your teeth at the man who would no longer be your ruler.

“You were right to fear me,” you said darkly, and threw Death Flames at your king.

————————————————————

Aemond walked forward slowly and reached towards the king as you took gasping shuddering breaths.

You stopped seeing him, stopped seeing anything, as the impact of your actions crashed over you.

He was before you once more, and with gentle fingers under your chin, he tilted your head back so you could meet his gaze.

“My Lady Death, My Queen,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear before he pressed his lips to yours.

His kiss enveloped and steadied you.

Your flames sputtered out, but no one made a single move, for fear of the two of you.

As he pulled back, he smiled at you, took a step back, and placed the conqueror’s crown on your head.

“How do I taste now?” you asked.

“Exquisite,” he murmured, his voice deep and soft as velvet.

You grinned back at him, a wild feral thing.

He took your hand and led you to sit on the Iron Throne.

Death then kneeled before you, bowing his head.

“Kneel before your Queen,” he ordered, loud enough for all to hear.

Everyone in the room followed suit.

You became the new Queen of the Seven Kingdoms with Death at your side.

You would rule together, side by side, using your powers for your own gain, as Queen and King, as Death and His Lady.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen smut

228 notes · View notes

danikamariewrites · 19 days

Note

Soooo, I hope that this is alright to request. I can't really pick between a ship for this b/c I love them and how you write them so much. So, if you don't mind, could you write about the reactions of Feysand, Rowaelin, and Nessian + Azriel (...Nesriel?? IDK) to reader getting poisoned by an enemy (reader lives, but is left feeling very, very weak and ill)?? If you just want to do one or two that's fine... I was just curious to see how some of them might react :).

Cured By You headcanons

Feysand x reader, Rowaelin x reader, & Nezriel x reader

A/n: I would not be able to pick between them in general and I love these ships and so happy you do too anon

Warnings: poison, over bearing mates

Feysand

It happened while visiting the court of nightmares

You felt like an idiot, you always check your drinks or have Azriel’s shadows check

When you wake up 2 days later you were more embarrassed than anything. Especially passing out in the middle of the Court of Nightmares, like what a rookie move

Cassian and Azriel jump into action as Rhys scoops you to his chest. Feyre unleashes her claws, practically growling in Kier's direction. Rhys grabs her and winnows the three of you home to an awaiting Madja

thankfully you healed quickly. whoever poisned you clearly didn't get their dosage right

you still feel weak and get tired easily during the day for a few weeks

the first thing you see is Rhys and Feyre casually chatting. you watch them for a bit before reaching for Feyre's hand that's casually draped on the bed

they jump at your movement and are overjoyed that you're finally awake

if you thought they were doting and overly fussy about you when you have the sniffles, think again. these two are unbearable!

Rhys carries you everywhere. it was a struggle to convince them to let you out of bed so this was the compromise

the poison had weakend you to the point where lifting your arms was a chore. Feyre had decided to feed you even though most of the time you gave her an I'm-going-to-kill-you look

you considered yourself lucky though. to have mates that take care of you is a blessing

Rowaelin

Furious doesn’t even begin to describe how Rowan and Aelin felt

everything was fine, dinner was going great. this new alliance with a kingdom bordering Wendlyn seemed promising

until you polished off your wine. you turned pale and Rowan immediately scented that something was wrong with you

you passed out, collapsing from your chair. the dining room fell into chaos as soon as Fenrys sniffed your glass and announced you'd been poisoned

the guests were ushered out and taken to another room to be interrogated while Rowan rushes you to your shared bedroom, Yrene following and ready to draw the poison from your system

you woke up two days later with Fleetfoot watching over you, her golden head laying on your stomach. her big brown eyes staring at you. petting Fleetfoot behind the ears she shakes your hand off after having her fill. leaping off the bed the large golden beast sits by the door and begins to howl as loud as she possibly can

the queen and king coming running, almsot breaking down the door

Fleetfoot wags her tail at the sight of Aelin, running back over to sit next to the bed as your mates approach

the pair throw themselves down next to you, squishing you between them carefully. "We were so worried, oh gods." Aelin breathes out as Rowan repeatedly kisses your face

(like Feysand) the two of them don't let you lift a finger. Rowan never gets to do this for Aelin so he babies you to the max

from helping you walk and work out the muscels in your body to feeding and bathing you he does everything for you

Aelin spoild you with attention and treats. you two spend all her free time snuggled up in bed eating junk food

Nesriel

they each have a very different (yet extreme and justified) reaction

Azriel starts threatening people with Nesta, who lets her power rumble through the room, flames cupped in her hands

Cassian is getting you the hell out of there and to Madja

Cass doesn't let go of you for a single second while the healers pulls the poison from your body. he presses kisses to your temple and whispers sweet nothings as you writhe in pain from the poison being extracted

while you sleep for a week they hover over you, watching over you like hawkes

Azriel sleeps sitting up in a chair next to the bed while Nesta sleeps next to you, playing with your hair so you feel soothed in your unconcious state

when you wake up you're startled to find Cassian curled up at the end of the bed like a dog, Azriel in a chair, and Nesta next to you

Az's shadows go haywire next to his ears, alerting him to your conciousness. the shadows rush to alert Cass and Nes who perk up immediately

Nesta sits up, holding your face in her hands, "oh thank gods, you're ok." she coos on the verge of tears

even though you're weak you force your arm to move so you can hold her wrist. "I'm ok," you whisper

you all thought Cassian would be the more doting/crazy one but it turns out to be Nesta

she freaks out every time Az or Cass move you, worried about your comfort levels or if you're in pain. she yells at them if you even wince, "Careful! you're hurting her!" they always give her the same exasperated look as you giggle

when they find out who poisoned you Cassian tells you and stays with you. meanwhile Az lets Nesta tag along to the interrogation

he even let Nesta participate and she did not hold back. making this guy feel the worst pain he has ever endured

198 notes · View notes

misguidedasgardian · 9 months

Text

I need to... (2)

... Go

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your time and your patience is running out

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader (for now), MAIN Cregan Stark x Fem!reader

Warnings: There are mentions of them being Minors! at some point in their relationship, a lot of cursing, cheating, angst, depression, age gap (not for reader), coercion, toxic relationship, drinking alcohol to cope, in some countries it is underage drinking, (reader is 18). contraceptive pills, panick attack, throwing up (not intentional), thoughts about injuries and medical procedures to one-self (not self induced), weird-ass warnings but you knew when you read them, might forget some …

+ 18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 5.1 k

Notes: I can’t believe the support on this! it's amazing! and I can’t wait for all of you to realize the ramifications of Aemond’s fuckery JAJA

It has been only been a week and you couldn’t take it anymore, so you found yourself almost running up the stairs leading to that ugly studio, that once you found “Artsy”, you had to do something, you had to face her, you had to

You found Alys alone cleaning her art supplies, when she saw you, she smiled widely

“Hey, you are free this time of day?, what do you need?”

“What I need is for you to stop fucking my boyfriend”, you snapped, her face went pale, “you know you were in the last year of highschool when he was being born? sick”, then her face turned bitchy, and unapologetic

“Perhaps you should ask yourself why your boyfriend prefers to fuck me than you”, you couldn’t take it anymore, you looked around frantically, and found quickly what you were looking for, a cartoner knife

Alys’ face was like the one of the woman of psycho, the scene in the shower, you couldn’t take it anymore and stabbed her right by her collarbone

You screamed when you woke up, you raised your hands to your face to see if you had your teacher’s blood in them, but they were clean, you looked around and found yourself in your dorm room… alone

You had not stabbed your teacher….

Yet

You jumped from your bed when you heard your alarm go off.

You had classes

Plastic arts classes

For fucks sake

You looked at the mirror in the common bathroom and you looked like shit, dark bags under your eyes, your hair was messy, you didn’t even want to try, you just went to her class, not even having a shower

why bother?

You had kept yourself waxed, clean, hair always perfect, always makeup in your face, perfume in your neck, you had plucked your eyebrows every week, and for what?

Alys looked radiant today, her gorgeous black hair loose, makeup that made her green eyes even bigger and shinier

Fucking bitch

When you arrived class already started, she made eye contact with you, raising one of her perfect model-shaped eyebrows but say nothing as she kept giving instructions for the class of today

You sat at the last table, back of the class and took out your notebook, and started doodling.

You started to plan

Your godmother was going to be so happy you would want to change careers, because she knew what you truly wanted, and she didn't think it was a good idea to choose your college only for a man, which you had done, so… she was going to be easy..

Even though she was so proud when you told her you got in Dragonstone University, it was a prestigious school, and she wasted no time in telling everyone she knew in King’s Landing country club.

Anyways

Then you were going to buy a ticket to go live on the whole other side of the continent. You thought the money your parents gave you would let you live comfortably for the years you needed to study without even thinking about working…

You were going to be fine

You could kiss that family discount with the airline goodbye

Then you were going to need to take a few boxes with you, your belongings, luckily you didn’t have much, so you started to make a list of everything you needed to do.

And suddenly, you felt all eyes on you, you looked up and realized that witch Alys had made you a question or something, and everyone was looking at you to answer it

“Sorry?”, you asked

“i asked, at what temperature you need to heat plastic in order for you to mold”, she asked again, she tried to sound nice, but you could tell she was visibly annoyed

“I don’t know”, you answered, she looked at you, frowning, but then answered herself and continued the class, after everyone had stopped snickering

You had made so many mistakes, you had managed to enter one of the most prestigious schools in the country, taking someone else’s place, and you didn’t even want to be here. It was early, you thought, at least, it was not too late…

You would be ashamed, if you didn’t try so damn hard to fit in, for you to really be interested in your classes, for you to want to be an architect

Sadly you didn’t

As soon as Alys dismissed the class you jumped off your seat and ran off, even though you heard her calling you… Gods the audacity

If you were a tracher fucking your student’s boyfriend, the least you could do is leave her alone, right?

“Professor Alys is calling you”, said one of your classmates with a boring face, he grabbed your arm to stop you from running down the stairs, and you had no choice but to return and face her

she was wiping the board with her back to you, your eyes went to the desk where you found now only a cardboard knife, but also very big scissors. You felt like a lightning bolt had shot through your spine, you shook and grabbed yourself, reviving your dream all too well.

She finally turned around and looked at you

Boyrfiend fucker

You knew very well your boyfriend, Aemond, was the one at fault, he was the one in a committed relationship with you, but she was also at fault, she knew he was your boyfriend… SHE WAS YOUR TEACHER, she knew him through you! you wouldn’t go as far as to say she was your friend, but really close, she was your mentor, she was also at fault

“I know you are frustrated, and you don’t really want to be here, but I thought at least, together you and I, had come to some sort of understanding”, she said sweetly. Any understanding that you both may have had came to an end when you found her fucking your boyfriend in this very desk

The thought made you take back your hand that you had placed in top of that surface, you looked at it, disgusted, like it was some sort of roadkill, and for a second, as you looked back at her, you thought you saw some fear in her ghostly green eyes, but you quickly discarded it

“I’m failing two courses, it’s been a tough week”, you whispered, taking your eyes off of her

“You got pretty good grades in this class”, she tried, “Don’t ruin it so close to the finish line”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again”

Should you confront her? you didn’t want to lose momentum, but you didn’t think you had the strength, you had never been a confrontational person, and… what were you going to gain? explanations? a fight? an apology? what?

You found her looking at you with pity, and you almost snorted

“Yours is a complicated age, you are expected to make life-changing decisions without not truly knowing much of the world, it is almost unfair they made you choose what you want to do for the rest of your life at this young age… but that is what college is for, you know?”, she muttered, “it might take you a while, like I did, but in the end, you will find your calling”

You barely nodded, your energy suddenly depleted, you wanted to fall into your bed with five muscular relaxers on and not wake up for a week

If you offer, would the meds students put you in a coma for learning purposes? works both ways

Alys continued her motivational speech while you thought how good it must feel not to feel anything, you wanted to rip your heart from your own chest for it to stop aching like it was.

You watched Alys and how her lips moved and her eyes danced

And then, even though you couldn’t hear her, you saw her put her hand in her belly

“... And when you least expected, life surprises you”, she muttered, and then from her belly you looked up at her again

“You are pregnant?”

“I shouldn’t be sharing this with you, I only just found out, it's very new, I think six weeks”

You were going to pass out

“Is it my boyfriend’s?”, you asked before you can even stop your own tongue

“What?”, she asked, “how…?”

“I need to go”

You stumbled away from her, grabbing onto the wall you tried not to fall down the stairs and break your neck, fortunately the bathrooms were right there, you barely managed to enter and kneeled in the nearest stall, and you threw up, all the poor contents of your breakfast

You were shaking, with nausea and your chest constricting within itself

Once you were done throwing up, you lean back to the stall wall, and you started to hyperventilate, suddenly, you had trouble breathing, and you couldn’t, you tried to take long breaths, but nothing was helping

Soon, a couple of hands were on you

“Hey, are you alright?”, it was a girl, young

“Can’t breathe”, you managed to squeeze our of your twisted throat

“I think you are having a panic attack”, she said, completely concerned for you

“I think I might be”, you conceded, your chest felt too tight

Alys was pregnant with Aemond’s baby. I mean, was she? for how long this had been going on? she had a boyfriend when the school year started, you had seen him, he trained the Football team here.

You dry heaved and that made it worse

The student grabbed you and took you out of the stall, you managed to stand up and grab onto the vanity. She massaged your back with soothing movements

“Breathe in and out”, she commanded, and you obeyed, looking in the mirror and into your own eyes, to find your own strength

She placed her hands in your shoulders and began to rub, as you kept breathing

“Your chest hurts?”, suddenly, it stopped, and you shook your head

“No, not anymore”, you managed to answer, as you turn on the cold water and splashed your face with it, and put a bit of cold water in the back of your head, it always worked, to calm yourself down

“You need to go to the nursery”, she said, worried

“I think I’m alright”, you whispered

“Are you sure?”, she asked, you nodded

“Thank you so much”, you whispered

“My sister used to have them all the time, its fine”, she then looked at you and frowned, ”you are Aemond’s girlfriend, are you not?”

For fucks sake

“Yes”, you said, smiling fakely

“He is so awesome, I have him in all my classes”

You can have him then

“Anyways, thank you again”, you grabbed your backpack that was in the middle of the bathroom floor, and walked out of the bathroom hastily

Just a couple of more weeks

Just a couple

But you couldn’t

With shaky hands you grabbed your phone, ignoring Aemond’s texts about meeting up in the coffee shop, and went straight for the number you had in your phone, it rang twice before she answered

“Godmother?”

“My sweet girl”, she answered, only that made you smile, and even with one word, she knew something was wrong, “what happened?”

“I need you”

“I’m on the next ferry out”, it's the only thing she answered

It was still going to take a couple of days, but only knowing she was coming, made you breathe a little easier

You just had to put up with Aemond a couple of more days…

Just a couple

Your phoned “dinged”, and when you checked it, you were pleasantly surprised to see that it was a text from Ben

You are my only success story in my career as a recruiter, wanna celebrate?

A bit of a flirt, but you smiled and texted back immediately, not time to waste you thought

Sure

The replay came as quickly as you texted back

Meet you at the bar at eight, we will eat something there

You: Great :)

Now, a text from Aemond came in, he wanted you to meet him in the library now, and you went there

For maximum effect, for you to really make an impact with your absence, you had to keep acting a few more days, and then, you were going to get out of his life for good… But Alys, you had asked her point blank is that kid was his, she was going to tell him you knew…

You found him in the tables near the end of the century old library, you frowned when you saw him with Criston Cole, a senior who was just a walking neon red flag

“My lady”, you evaded him like the plague when he leaned in to kiss you, and he didn’t say anything, but you saw his jaw tick, you sat by his side, and took out your art history book,a t least you were going to leave this joint with your head held high, you had an exam two days from now

“I heard you took classes with professor Rivers”, muttered Cole, a twisted smile on his lips and his default crazy eyes

“yes”, you responded, bored

“darling, are the flashcards ready?”, asked Aemond, and you looked at him like he had grown two heads

“I didn’t got time to make them you now, failing all those classes”, you muttered, and again, that look that told you were going to have a huge fight once you were alone

“No matter, you can help me prepare them later tonight”, he teased, winking at Crispin, I mean, Criston

“I can’t tonight”, that touched a button, he turned to you, angry dancing in his eye

“Why not?”, he asked

“I need to study”, you said, pointing at the book

“You are going to fail anyways”, he said, Cole got uncomfortable quickly, and stood up from the table

“I’ll leave you to it”

“Gee, thanks love”, you mocked, ignoring him

“That is not what I meant”, he muttered, “we always study together”

“I’m sorry”

“We haven’t had sex in a week”, he whispered, annoyed, which reminded you bitterly that you had tried to get checked for STD’s but the girl told you you needed three months (for one of them) to notice symptoms and they were not going to show up in the results

“Sorry, I’m on my period”

“You are not, I told you to take the pills…”

“Did you know they can cause me an aneurism Aemond?”, you asked, he only sighed

“You are fine”

“I don’t want to take them anymore”, for what? you only told your Gynecologist to prescribe them because of your active sex life, not because you needed them

“We’ll talk about it later”, he whispered

“I can’t later, I have to study, and then I’m meeting with a friend”

‘What friend?”

“Ben”

“The one from the other night? forget it”, he growled

You’d think he’d be glad, he could go and fuck your teacher, his baby momma, oh you wanted to throw up again

“He is just a friend, I’m pretty sure he is gay”, not true

“So? you are not going to that slum to drink with a guy you just met”

“There is going to be other people there”, you said, like, other patrons

“I said no”

“You are not my father, I’m not asking Aemond”, you said back, he only looked at you with a frown

“Why are you doing this tonight? I had a surprise for you”

“What surprise?”, you asked

“Involves a velvet box, and flowers…”, the gift he didn’t get to give you that fatidic night, “your favorite movie”

“Sorry, Ben is leaving tomorrow, besides, you just told me you need to study”, you reminded him, caught him, you thought

“Whatever, you want to seem desperate to that guy? go then”, he looked down at his book, his closed fist over the table

“Tomorrow we can meet up at the coffee shop and make the flashcards”, he dind’t answer, he barely looked at you, and you want to laugh on his fucking face

The silent treatment

Really?

normally you would beg and get on your knees, figurative and literally, to please him and make him forgive you for whatever you did wrong, but now you just got up, grabbing your book

He looked like he had been slapped looking up at you wide eyed, but you didn’t look back, you just turned and left, leaving him there, soaking in his own manipulation

You wanted an opening

For him to say something and you bite back

You didn’t have the momentum anymore

You just wanted to leave, you knew that if you confronted him, he was just going to manipulate his way out of it, he had you stringed up…

But you just find a sharp pair of scissors

It was going to take a while, but you were going to get yourself free, you knew it

Just a couple more days, your godmother was on her way, she was going to get you out of here

you walked hastily to your dorm, to find Maris there, that girl didn’t have much of a social life

“I don’t appreciate you treating me like a doorman”, she snapped in sight, “that came in for you”, she said pointing to your bed were a big envelope laid

“Maris, you know what? maybe Byron doesn’t pay attention to you because he can see the stick poking out of your ass”, you snapped, and she opened her mouth, enraged, “save it”, you snapped, “I don’t feel like killing a million neurons trying to wrap my head around what might get out of your mouth”, she shut up again, but you sighed, she might be a terrible roommate, but she wasn’t to blame, “relax Maris you know what that is?”, you asked pointing at the bed, “your ticket to a single room, its my Winterfell course catalog for the next semester”, and her face it up, “I’m out of here”

“Really? wait, Bbt what about Aemond?”, she asked then, wary, you grabbed your phone and didn’t even looked at the picture, and you show it to her

“IS THAT…? PROFESSOR RIVERS?”, she said, sickenly marveled

“You still think he is too good for me?”, she took the phone off your hand to look at the picture closely

Oh if only you saw her airdropping the pic to herself

“You need to send this to the dean and fuck them up”, she said with a wide, sick smile.

Oh how much you had thought about

The very next day you were looking through your phone and find it, you didn’t even remember taking it, you were probably in shock, and then you thought about show it to the dean… but you couldn’t

That picture was straight up porn, and Aemond was on it, Aemond came from a powerful family and not even the whole university could protect itself from the massive lawsuit the Targaryens could attack them with, and you, you took it, it was defamatory and gods know what else, you were a nail and they were a massive hammer, you didn’t even wanted to know what they could do to you.

“She could get fired”, you whispered simply

“So?”

“She could get in trouble”

“She is fucking your boyfriend!”, she said back

“Doesn’t mean I want to ruin her life”, you said, “he is the one who should get fucked up, he was my boyfriend, and if this picture gets leaked, the only one who is getting fired and ruined is her, while he is going to get high-fived until his arm falls off”

“She deserves it”, she said

“He also deserves it, and again, he won’t even get scratched”

“Yes if you send it to his pius mother”, she teased

“The stick up your ass is falling off Maris”

“Haha, very funny, send it”, she warned

“I just want to get out of here”

“Do it, but leave nothing in your wake, scorch the earth”, you only shook your head

They deserved each other, they deserved for them to fall on their own weight, you had made your peace.

And besides, Aemond had other things to face, his mother for example, King’s Landing’s first lady

Aemond had a very elite political pedigree, you see, his family was like royalty, generations and generations of the country’s leaders, mayors, senators, presidents… even it was said they descended from Kings many centuries ago. And that was just his father, and on his mother’s side was from the same caliber.

And you were from a famous family in the Crownlands, your family only in the last three generations before you had become famous for pioneering in the big silver screen, actors, directors, producers, new money, you’d think, creatives, artists… But the main reason that Alicent had allowed you to squeeze into her family, was your godmother.

She was Cerenna Reyne, married to the late Tywin Lannister, one of the three heirs to the greatest gold mine of the continent, childless, you were the closest thing she had to a daughter, probably her heir, people were welcomed to speculate. You wondered, but you wouldn’t ask, she hasn't told you.

Aemond had the pedigree, and you had the money to take him were he allegedly belonged

Cerenna and your mother were friends since the cradle, and she took you in when she and your father passed when you were little.

You ignored Maris who was getting a pedicure from herself, and dropped to your bed and opened the heavy package

It was your acceptance letter, with a letter from the dean himself, saying he was gladly going to receive you, and then the course catalog

You opened it and look through it slowly, enjoying every picture, every letter, the gray and navy blue colors

All of it

You even wanted to get a Jersey

You were so excited… and you couldn’t wait for you to face Aemond the last day, tell him to fuck himself, that the vacation to Casterly Rock were cancelled, and he could fuck himself

You were going to enjoy it

But when do things happen the way you wanted them to?

You met with Ben at the bar, you ate french fries, and drank beer. You had a great time, you learned he had a girlfriend, and he was a sophomore in an administrative degree, he was such a friendly guy, very appropriate, you felt good with him. It was a nice night, talking about Winterfell and how excited you were, and how cute the wolf mascot was and the fact you wanted to buy a plushie

Until a drunk fool spilled his pint all over you, drenching you

Ben Tallheart, was a gentleman, and offered you his Winterfell Jersey

And you had to make the walk of shame wearing another man’s jersey all over campus

Of course Aemond found out

And he almost threw your door down looking for you. You went out of your room to meet him, your patience running very, very thin

“...Now all the school thinks my girlfriend is a whore”, and that broke you, you pushed him out of your room where an entertained Maris was, and you put a finger on his chest

“You are the whore and don’t you ever talk to me that way again in your fucking life!”

it was done

You were done

You had imploded

“What?”, he sneered

“You are fucking my plastic arts teacher and she is fucking pregnant Aemond!”, he went pale, you honestly thought he was just going to drop dead

“Are you truly insane?”, he asked then, recuperating himself, he had politician’s blood after all, “why is a classmate texting me you had a panic attack in the bathroom? you are clearly not well”, he said, gaslighting at its finest

“I’m very well, thank you so much!”, you fought back, “I saw you Aemond, with my own eyes, you fucking her over her desk last week!”

“If you saw us, then why didn’t you say something? uh?”, he mocked

“because I’m leaving, and I was just going to disappear from your fucking life, because you don’t deserve anything from me Aemond! NOTHING!”, you spitted out

“You are psychotic”, he said back

“Oh, I’m the psycho one”, you mocked

“You have problems”

“You know, I don’t even care that you are fucking her or why, I just want to get out of this fucking island, this fucking school, this fucking bubble”

“You are going to drop everything, for this?”, he asked then, you thought you saw fear in his eye, but in a second it was gone

“Yes”, you said simply, bored of all this

“No”, he fought, “I was just a slip up”, he muttered, your discussion fell to whispers, in fears of all the dorms listening, “come on I can show you numbers of all students who fuck their teachers, its… a rite of passage”, he said dismissively

“what?”, you asked

“Yes, Its psychology, you see, she is a hot older woman, and we are still in our teenage years, it is normal one feels an attraction for a woman in the position of power, besides, she reach me, because she was concerned for you, and I was too, things escalated, it was a one time thing, the heat of the moment, it meant nothing… Maegor had his Tyanna, but also his Ceryse…”, was he seriously comparing himself to the second ever president of this country that had a first lady and a mistress?

“Aemond”, you called, frowning

“What?”

“Let’s play a game of hide and seek, alright? I hide, and you seek psychological help”, he only looked at you, a dead expression on his face, and then he exploded in a rage

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, he almost screamed, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you??? YOU ARE IMMATURE, AND CHILDISH, YOU DON’T EVEN HEAR A WORD I’M SAYING”

“I don’t need to Aemond”, you whispered

“So what?”, he snarled, “you are going to leave?”

“Yes Aemond”, you whispered, “I’m going to leave, this school, you, and everyone on it”

“No”, he muttered, shaking his head, “no, after all of this? one single mistake and you're going to leave just like that?”, he asked

“Yes”, you said quietly, “I need to go Aemond”, now it sank in, and he looked at you, his eye open wide, his mouth barely open, surprise, even a bit of skepticism, innocence even

“Don’t go”, he said simply, “it will not happen again”

“It’s been going on for weeks, right? Maybe months…”

“No…”

“Don’t lie to me”, you snapped, “have the decency to be truthful”

“Two months”, he said, you barely nodded

“Goodbye Aemond”, you whispered, and you walked away from him and your dorm room

You knew he was not going to go after you, but you also knew he knew you, and he was going to let you “cool down”, like every time you had an argument

He knew you were going to “crawl back to him”

And you spend the next day abed, Maris let you be, barely talked to you and you appreciated it, and then, sooner than you expected… you heard a knock on the door, and then, it opened, you raised from your lethargy to see the dark brown locks of the most important person to you

“What do I have to do to get a drink around here?”, she asked out loud, she removed her dark sunglasses and looked directly at you, “my beautiful god given daughter”, she muttered looking at you in the bed

“Godmother”, you whined, tears in your eyes

A long shower and an hour later, you found yourself at the coffee shop with your godmother, sipping a skinny latte, her… you were an extra cocoa mocha with whipped cream on it. You wore proudly Ben’s Jersey he gifted you

You told her everything

in whispers and conspicuous looks

“Oh darling”, she whined, arranging a lock of hair behind your ear, “I will take you up there, alright?”, she offered with a wide smile, “I’ll take you myself to Winterfell University, the palace you should have gone to in the first place, and those colors looked wonderful on you, my beautiful girl”

“You don’t have to”, you said, smiling shyly, she sighed

“No I do, I mean, it's perfect timing, you see, that motherfucker’s father, Viserys is campaigning AGAIN to be the mayor of King’s Landing, AGAIN!”, she whined, and you couldn’t help but giggle, “and as always, he invited me, to be there in front row”

“How much money he wanted this time?”, you asked

“Too much”, she said seriously, “I know my husband’s fund he left me was for precisely political campaigning, but, everything has a limit”, she said dismissively, “so, instead, a Velaryon cruise sounds just, perfect”, she whined, “what do you say? two weeks in the narrow sea, a nice week in White Harbour, they say the spa’s there are to die for, and then, I’ll drop you off at Winterfell”, she said lovingly, “recharged after vacations, ready to start your new life, away from that inbred family of fuckers”, she whispered, caressing your cheek, you laughed

“I love that idea”, you said, she dropped a kiss in your hand she was holding

“I’ll be staying at the Golden Lion hotel, alright? you just finish your things here, and I’ll make some calls''

“I love you godmother”, you whispered

“And I love you too my sweet sweet girl”, she whispered, “they will get fucked, like they deserve”, it sounded like a promise

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt”

“They won’t”, she said, “only they will get what they are owed”, sometimes she scared you

The bells above the door dinged and when you looked up, there she was

Fucking boyfriend fucker

Her face was like a Valyrian tragedy when she saw you, pale as paper, you couldn’t hide your anger, rage, hate on her

She walked towards your table

“Can we have a word?”, she asked, looking at your godmother sheepishly

“No”, you said, “I have nothing to say to you”, you growled, she looked uncomfortable

“Please”

“Leave me alone or everyone on this school is going to see the picture of you fucking my nineteen year-old boyfriend in your desk in your classroom”, you threatened, and with tears in her eyes she left the coffeshop

You then looked at your godmother

“I want to leave now”, you said

“I’ll get help to get your things”, she said softly.

Afterchapter notes: I think I’m having the “walt disney complex”, almost none of my MC’s have parents… sorry :( sometimes I think it's easier, in this case, for an eighteen year-old to make this kinds of decisions and move across the country and paying for it haha, I think it's easier for reader to have a badass godmother, I have one and it's the coolest

taglist!: @mxtokko @princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff @misspascalpunk @sweethoneyblossom1 @ipostwhtifeel @lunamoonbby @ahristata

#misguidedneed #aemond targaryen x reader #cregan stark x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd modern au #college au #cregan stark #house targaryen #hbo house of the dragon

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jessysapphireblue · 8 months

Text

Akward Morning Luffy x reader

Nickname included is Je, which you can replace. Crazy strawhats being crazy. Enjoy.

Part 2 ----> Here

Morning dawned over the horizon, the Straw Hat Pirates waking up from their slumber. Luffy was snoring away, sprawled like a starfish across your bed, you also still sleeping, an arm over his waist, and head on his shoulder.

Loud knocking woke your boyfriend up, as he heard Usopp saying something. Yawning and stretching, he stood up and tapped to the door, hand in his hair as he opened it. "Usopp? What´s wrong?" "Ah! You´re here! I thought you-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!", his best friend began to talk but drifted off, screaming loudly at him.

"Why are you screaming?", asked Luffy. " YOU´RE NAKED!!!!". Silence came over them as Luffy looked down. "Oh, no wonder that I feel so cold" "Luffy! You-" "mmh", Usopp got interrupted by your voice, Luffy looking over with a grin. "Je is currently waking up. What is-USOPP!!", Luffy saw his best friend pale as a ghost.

Slaaming the door in his face, Luffy was confused but turned around. "He´s weird today" "Who is?", you spoke, finally up, stretching yourself. "Usopp! I guess Sanji put something in his food, or Chopper tested some medicine on him...pants pants", he said and looked around for his pants.

"Morning everyone!", shouted Luffy as you both arrived in the kitchen. Sanji looked something in between mad and sad. "Why, you lucky bastard?!" "Hm?" "Why do you slept by our Goddess again?! I want to be the one next to her" "Sanji I told you my room is always open for anyone", you admitted with a soft smile.

"But my Goddess! I mean sleeping by your side! Not that rubber idiot!!! Waking up next to you would be a blessing for my heart and soul, to see you the first thing in the morning!", he began to swoon around you.

During breakfast, Usopp poked in his food before pushing it away. "Usopp? Are you ok? Not eating?", Franky asked. "Are you sick?!". Chopper was worried. "Oi, you better eat it long nose"

"No. I can´t", he said, hands in a prayer, his index fingers touching his lips. "A stomachache?", asked Robin. "That would be better than what I saw!", he admitted. "A monster?" "Sea King?" "Your face in the mirror?", asked Zoro. "You bastard! No!!! THESE TWO!", he pointed to you and Luffy.

"Eh, did we do something wrong?", you asked. "Not that I remember", said Luffy and took his best friends plate. "Don´t you play with me! My innocence is gone!!!" "You? And innocent?", Nami was more than doubtful. "Yes! Before it clicked on them!"

"What did you do, Luffy?", asked Robin. "Nothing! He knocked and I opened and then he screamed", admitted your boyfriend before you feed him, making him shine.

"YOU WERE BUTT ASS NAKED!!!", the sniper yelled so loudly that his voice cracked, "AND SHE WAS STILL IN BED! YOUR CLOTHES WERE EVERYWHERE! YOU TWO FUCKED!!!"

Silence. "Yohohohoho, Usopp-san, I think you were still dreaming", laughed Brook. "Ah, no. He was right. Je and I slept together", grinned Lu widely, while you blushed bright red.

"WHAAAAAAAAA?!", Nami, Sanji and Chopper screamed. The rest was too shocked to speak. "Luffy! What did you do?!", Nami was about to attack him. "What? I didn´t put a baby in Je" "How the hell do you know how that works?!", Sanji was having a meltdown. "Of course I know how sex works. I´m not dumb!", protested your captain.

"HAHAHAHAHA!!! Our captain is more man than you, hentai-brow!", laughed Zoro. "Fu fu fu, was it fun?" "Robin!" "Yes! With Je it is always fun. We laugh and have fun, and kiss us a lot" "Wait...always?", asked Franky.

"Yeah, we did it a couple times already", beamed Luffy with innocence and you could vanish. Usopp stood up. "Usopp?", asked Chopper. "It was nice meeting you all, I sacrifice myself to the Sea" "USOPP NO!!!", Chopper cried. "I´m traumatized for life! Luffy and ...THIS! Is something that I never thought would happen" "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Luffy-kun, you are a real man now!", laughed Jinbe, everyone completely ignoring Sanji and Zoro fighting outside.

"Yohohoho, Luffy-san?" "Yes brook?" Brook bend down to him. "What color are her panties today?", he asked, awaiting as your boyfriend closed his eyes. "mmmh...ah! Blue like the sky" "Yohohohohoho", Brook dripped blood from his nose. "YOU PERVERT!", Nami kicked him full force outside.

You finally stood up. "Je?" "I shoot myself to the sun", you admitted, face high red as you walked out, the chaos continued.

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celiciaa · 3 months

Text

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

CHAPTER ONE.

I just love you.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

special thanks to @otomehoneyybearr for proofreading! ♡

minors and ageless blogs dni.

One day, I was caught in a runaway carriage in town and lost my memory.

Gilbert: This is trouble. I never expected the little rabbit would forget about all our time together.

Gilbert: The coachman who caused this accident will be executed at once…

Gilbert: The main issue is this distance between us.

(….This is a nightmare.)

(I'm having a bad dream right now.)

I was working at the small bookstore in Rhodolite, the land of roses and art.

But for some reason, I woke up in the castle of Obsidian, an enemy nation of military and ore.

The unrealistic nightmare of being confronted by a handsome looking man with black hair and one eye from the royal family makes me feel dizzy.

(Why am I in Obsidian? And why is a member of the royal family approaching me?)

I rolled off the bed and ran to the wall but,

The man who introduced himself as Gilbert steadily closed the distance between us.

At first glance, he looked like he was smiling, but his blood-colored eye was not, which was simply terrifying.

(He’s the infamous Obsidianite royal family who must have killed many people so far—-)

(If I'm not careful, he could kill me too.)

Gilbert: Hmm, to be so frightened by the little rabbit who loved me so much...

Gilbert: I'm so shocked that I feel like I want to prepare a cage right away.

Walter: You idiot! Don't say that even if it is a joke!

Then, the man who claimed to be the royal physician, Mr. Walter, yelled so loudly that it made me flinch involuntarily.

Walter: You always think of imprisonment and execution whenever someone is in trouble.

Gilbert: I’m serious, you know? Once I confine the little rabbit, she can't escape.

(…)

Walter: Don't threaten the injured person. Look at how pale her face is.

Gilbert: Aah, sorry? I'm the kind and sweet villain to you, so if you don't like it, I'll stop.

Gilbert: But, you know what will happen if you keep acting like that...right?

(I might actually end up being trapped.)

It didn't seem like this was the right time to be afraid and try to escape from reality.

I fought the urge in my body to escape from Gilbert standing in front of me, and held my ground.

(First, I’ll assess the situation. If I can’t recall anything, I won’t know the right way to act.)

Emma: Why…am I in Obsidian?

Gilbert: Of course, because I brought you here.

Emma: But why a commoner like me….?

Gilbert: Because I’m the big villain who loves the little rabbit very much.

Emma: …Am I the little rabbit?

Gilbert: Yes, that's right. I love you.

(…I don't understand.)

But surely, I see my reflection captured in those seemingly indifferent red eye.

I felt his genuine feeling of love, and had no choice but to accept Gilbert’s words.

Emma: Can you tell me how I got here?

Gilbert: Sure, I'll spend the whole night telling you.

Gilbert: In bed.

(!?)

━━

(I never thought he would actually bring me to bed…)

After Mr. Walter finished treating me, I was led into a spacious room covered in black interior

I was intrigued by the shelves lined with many books that rivaled any bookstore,

Gilbert stopped in front of the bed and urged me to sit down.

(Perhaps this is Gilbert's room?)

(…I can imagine the consequences for not complying would be horrific.)

I tried to sit as far away from him as possible, but Gilbert mercilessly settled down close enough for our shoulders to touch.

I quickly gave up.

Gilbert: Now, let's start off with the fact that you were chosen as Belle.

━━

Gilbert: ——And so, you are now loved by me, the world's greatest villain, and we lived happily ever after.

(No, no, no….!)

(Wait, is what you just said true!?)

I was chosen as Belle to select the next king of Rhodolite,

Apparently, I caught Gilbert’s attention when he visited to participate in a social event,

And now he’s telling me that I’m his fiancée or something….

(This…has to be a lie.)

Gilbert: Let me tell you, I don't lie.

Emma: ….

Gilbert: Huh, you froze. Is it that hard to accept?

Emma: ….I don't think I'll ever be able to accept it.

(It's as if I've been told a grand story, and…it doesn't seem like it's my own.) // (It's as if I've been told a grand story, and…it doesn't feel like it's about me.)

Gilbert: I see. Then it can’t be helped if your mind rejects it.

Gilbert: But it’s possible that your body might remember.

Emma: What?

The corners of Gilbert’s mouth raised into a smile as he pushed my shoulders and laid me down on the sheets.

I could easily imagine what would happen next, and my blood ran cold.

Emma: Please stop!

Gilbert: Why? Didn't I just tell you that I'm your fiancé?

Gilbert: We used to do things like this quite often.

I feel his cold lips touch my ears and he bites down forcefully.

I winced in pain, and he lapped my skin with his tongue.

(This man...seriously…)

(But I don't know...it just feels weird.)

Even though I was being assaulted by a man who I barely know, I don’t feel any disgust at all.

It seems to be true that my body remembers.

Still, my heart couldn't keep up, so I pushed back against his chest, Gilbert bit my skin once more then pulled away.

Gilbert: Did you believe that? // Did you fall for that?

Emma: Was this a joke?

Gilbert: You’re injured.

Gilbert: If it weren't for that, I would have forced you to remember.

Emma: ….

Gilbert: Didn't I tell you? That I’m the kind and sweet villain to you.

Gilbert: I'll just have to remind you slowly. // I’ll make sure you remember slowly.

Gilbert: Even if you lost your memories, you can never escape from me…okay?

Gilbert combs my hair with his fingers and kisses me.

It was a gentle touch that conveyed love and affection.

(He's supposed to be scary, but...he really seems to love me.)

Why he fell in love with me was never mentioned in the conversation.

(I wonder if one day I'll be able to remember.)

(…I want to remember.)

━━

The next day, the confusion and agitation caused by the memory loss still lingered—-

Gilbert invited me to visit a quiet place full of plants.

Gilbert: ….

Emma: …..

(…There’s nothing to do.)

It felt like a laboratory, with equipment here I've never seen before and tags attached to plants. // The equipment I had never seen before and the tags attached to the plants looked like a laboratory.

(It doesn't seem like it...or maybe it really is.)

Gilbert is silently writing difficult formulas on a document.

It was somehow refreshing to me.

(I wonder if there's anything to do….)

As I looked around, carefully examining each item one by one, something caught my eye.

Emma: A rose…?

▸ [ next ]

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert

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aphroditelovesu · 8 months

Text

The Lost Queen - VII

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 2,003.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 7

Time was against you.

The more time passes, the more blood he loses and the more the chances of mortality increase.

You needed to be very careful and be as thorough as possible. Any wrong move or touch would result in Cleitus' imminent death.

The issue of medicine was also complicated and archaic and this only complicated everything. You weren't a doctor, but you knew enough about the human body and health care that you believed you could help save it. Your biggest concern, however, was the infection that could arise and how to treat the wound in his abdomen correctly and not make his situation even worse.

Those nights spent watching Grey's Anatomy could come in handy.

You almost laughed at that thought, but it was true. You tried to remember medical procedures and the biology books you had read in high school. You had to remember what was written.

You looked at Doctor Philip and frowned. He seemed more confused than you and that was because he studied medicine. Of course, not the medicine you knew, but still medicine even if archaic and probably with many flaws.

Obviously, Cleitus needed a hospital, with proper medical treatment. The only problem is that you were in the 4th century BC and not the 21st century and there were no conventional hospitals and there was the bonus that you were in a camp during a military campaign.

All the odds were against you.

The thought alone was very discouraging, but you weren't going to give up. You would do everything in your power to make sure this man lives and in the end it would all depend on how well you did.

Cleitus shouldn't die now and you were aware that saving him could change history even more, but you didn't care. Everything had already changed and you needed to save him.

You had to do it.

You washed your hands with the water that was there and the soap available. It wasn't the same as it was in its time, but it should help eliminate at least some bacteria.

You closed your eyes and counted to ten in an attempt to calm your nervousness and opened them again. You took a needle and sterilized it in beer. It wasn't what was recommended, but there was nothing else available so it would have to do.

Cleitus was lying on the cot, Philip was checking his temperature. You approached the cot with the needle and thread in hand, along with a wet and dry piece of fabric that was supposed to imitate gauze.

Philip looked at you suspiciously, ''What are you going to do?''

''Sew him.'' You replied as if it was obvious. You sat down on a chair placed next to the cot and grabbed the beer. You stared at your patient, Cleitus' tanned skin was pale and a wet cloth was on his forehead, as if it was trying to fight off a fever.

He was in a lot of pain and you would only make him feel more.

Your hands were shaking slightly and you cursed yourself for it. Taking a deep breath and praying to whoever was listening to you, you carefully cleaned the blood from the cut that was still bleeding, praying that internal bleeding wasn't happening.

You could stop external bleeding, but not an internal bleeding.

After cleaning up the blood that would get in your way, you threaded the needle and prepared to sew him up. Philip tried to help guide you, but you already knew what he was talking about.

You knew more about medicine than he did.

Trying to ignore Philip's babbling and the panic settling in your body, you pierced Cleitus's sagging skin and began to stitch him up. He was still and expressed no pain, but you knew he was hurting. The right thing to do would be to anesthetize him, but that was not an option available to you.

You managed to stabilize the tremor in your hands and finished the sewing, cutting the rest of the thread with a small knife. The wound had been closed and sterilized, Philip seemed satisfied and said that Cleitus could recover.

But you knew it wasn't just that.

A deep cut to the abdomen was dangerous and there were many risks to consider.

The cut had been closed but there were many things that could go wrong. An infection, internal bleeding or sepsis could occur. Or this could all happen at once.

The only thing left to do was pray and make sure he wouldn't die, at least not alone.

It felt like days had passed.

You had lost track of the time since you had treated Cleitus.

Your eyelids were heavy and you just wanted to sleep, but you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep, not until you were sure he would live.

In a way, it was your fault. You were to blame for him being in such a state.

Although it seemed unrealistic, you were sure it was your fault. Alexander had his share of guilt that was greater than yours, but you still felt so fucking guilty.

You blamed Alexander too. Oh, and how you blamed him.

What was wrong with that man? By god, why the hell does he want to marry you? He knew you for what? A day or less? And you weren't politically attractive.

Not in terms of beauty, you thought you were quite beautiful.

But not politically. You literally appeared out of nowhere, with just the clothes on your back and probably looking like a ghost and he wanted to marry you.

It seemed like a very bad joke.

Cleitus had been the only sensible one, you recognized that. You were too shocked to react and you blamed yourself for it. Maybe if you had said something, Cleitus wouldn't have been stabbed.

Or he would have been the same way.

There was no way you could have predicted it, but you wished you could go back in time again and reverse this situation. But you couldn't do that.

Or could you?

You shook your head, trying to get those thoughts out of your head. There was no point in thinking about things like that, you didn't even know how you ended up in this place, much less how to travel through time again.

Or did you know? Now, alone with Cleitus in a strangely silent environment, you were finally able to think and analyze everything that had happened a few hours ago.

This all started after you bought that book, you were sure of that. And that book was supposed to be magical, it was the only explanation, even if your mind screamed otherwise.

You have always had a scientific mind and have always sought answers based on science and this has always worked for you. There was nothing that science couldn't explain.

Except that.

Science confirmed that time travel existed, but only into the future and not in the way you were experiencing it. Albert Einstein's theory of relativity was always something to be credited with and you trusted him.

Now you weren't so sure about that.

Science went down the drain in this case. Maybe it was some god playing with you or you went crazy. But you dug deep into your mind, looking for any traces of what might indicate why you were here.

And that was when you remembered that strange man who had approached you before you went to the market.

You shivered when you remembered his words.

''The shadows of fate surround you... The world will never be the same for you, girl.''

Could he be the real culprit of your current torment? Possibly. In fact, him and that damn book were the things you could blame right now and only the gods knew how desperately you needed to blame someone or something.

You felt anger course through your body and you wanted to scream at someone. Preferably the culprit, but anyone would do in your moment of understandable outburst.

You felt tears in your eyes, but this time, they weren't tears of despair, but of pure anger.

You didn't try to fight back the tears, but let them fall and wet your face and the top of your blood-stained chiton.

All the emotions you had been suppressing finally exploded. The anger, the sadness, the fear, it all came at once like a devastating wave. Your eyes burned a little, but you didn't care.

After hours of anguish, you allowed yourself to freak out once and for all. And it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders after letting all your emotions out of you. You buried your head in your chest and folded your legs, trying to hide like you did whenever you were scared.

''(Y/N)?'' You raised your head and tried to focus your unfocused gaze on whoever had spoken to you. It was Perddicas. You smiled a little at his presence.

He approached you and gently touched your bare shoulders. You shivered a little at the sudden contact, but didn't try to push him away.

''Hey...'' You mumbled with a choked voice.

''How is he?'' He murmured, patting your shoulders.

You held back a sob, ''I'm not sure.''

Perdiccas just looked at you fondly with those beautiful blue eyes that you felt like you could get lost in them for hours.

''And how are you?'' His voice was a little louder than a whisper. He was trying to comfort you and you appreciated it immensely.

''Not great.'' You simply said, still looking into those mesmerizing eyes.

A hint of pain flashed across his handsome face. ''I'm sorry to hear that and for what happened to Cleitus.'' He mumbled and you could swear there were tears in his eyes.

''It sucks.''

He laughed nasally, ''Yes.''

No exchange of words was said after that. And it wasn't necessary, body and facial language said everything that needed to be said.

You were very close, closer than would be considered appropriate or comfortable but you didn't care. You needed this comfort, desperately and Perdiccas could offer you that.

He wanted to offer you this.

You knew it from your first interaction with him.

You leaned your face closer to his and his breathing became heavy, You didn't back away however. Your eyes were fixed on the general's full lips.

''(Y/N)...'' Perdiccas murmured, looking at your face with desire and affection.

Hearing him say your name like that sent waves of pleasure through your body. Your faces were close, very close.

''Perdiccas...'' He got goosebumps when he heard you whisper his name.

You no longer had any doubts.

Against all the common sense you had left, you sealed the distance between you. Your lips met in a shy and superficial kiss, but one that quickly became passionate.

You moaned softly and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his warm body closer to yours. Perdiccas touched your waist and squeezed lightly, deepening the kiss. Your tongues touched in a shy and passionate way, your mouths became one.

You reluctantly broke apart after the lack of air hit you. You opened your eyes and blushed when you saw his lips swollen from the kiss and his breathing a little labored. Yours was no different.

You took a deep breath and touched his face tenderly, stroking it softly. He was really very handsome, the kind of man you were sure you'd see in one of those magazines, maybe like Vogue.

''(Y/N), you...'' Perdiccas couldn't formulate a proper question, still very surprised and excited by the passionate kiss. He wanted to kiss you more and maybe even more than kiss.

You smiled at him.

You threw yourself against him, looking for the necessary comfort. Perdiccas hugged you tightly and kissed your neck, stroking your hair. You closed your eyes and gave yourself what you wanted most.

— lady l: You didn't expect that kiss, did you? Me neither. The idea for the kiss came up at the last minute and I had to write it, so... Yeah, we had a little kiss between our girl and Perdiccas. Will I mention the consequences this will have? No. Anyway, I hope you liked it and forgive me for any mistakes and bad writing on the medical treatment part lol, don't repeat that! If you have been stabbed, seek medical attention! Love you all and see you in the next chapter ❤️.

#history #yandere history #yandere historical characters #the lost queen #tlq #alexander the great #alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great

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vmpiires · 5 months

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

„𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘”

𝐂𝐖;; mature content. afab!reader, stoner!choso, mentions of anxiety (once), non-curse/sorcerer AU, no uses of y/n. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓;; it’s finally fall during the mid 90s in shibuya, tokyo, japan. choso is a pretty hard working guy. he works as a bartender at a local bar on the evening shift. his baby brother yuji, who he thoroughly looks after and loves unconditionally, is babysat by some trusted neighbors. they also had a kid, so yuji wasn’t lonely. aside from his tendency to be disassociated, he meets someone so different…yet so alike.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 2.O4K

dark mode recommended

do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; i really like this concept. i just randomly thought of it because i was struggling to make up a plot buttttt i think this gone be good. hope ya enjoyyyy. reblog to support meeee and if you want more :D

another note: might make a part 2 of this. if this does good i’ll do it :P

₊❏❜ ⋮ continue to part two ⌒

it was a breezy autumn morning and sunlight started to creep through the cream curtains that hung up over the window. a groan rattled from under the large navy covers on the king sized bed. an arm slowly slid out from under the covers and pulled it down from over the owner’s head, revealing the one that was hidden underneath.

the digital alarm clock on the nightstand read ‘9:55 AM’. it made the male groan at how early in the morning it was. sitting up, choso would thread his hand hand through his brown medium length hair before slowly getting out of bed.

choso entered the bathroom and took a look at himself. the male wasn’t wearing anything but a pair of joggers with his boxers partially showing underneath. the drawstrings were untied. he didn’t even bother to tie them up again since he was about to shower.

after he had done his hygiene, he would take the rubber bands that were wrapped securely around his wrist and put his hair up in two high ponytails, making sure to tie them tightly. choso would examine the weeping wound across the bridge of his nose before covering it up with a bandage. something he normally did to forget about it being there. it made him insecure.

it was 10 AM now and choso was making breakfast for him and baby yuji. well, he wasn’t really a baby. he was five years old at the time so that meant choso didn’t have to fuss while feeding the pink haired boy baby food and he was old enough to eat foods like scrambled eggs and bacon.

with half-lidded eyes, choso’s signature face of apathy and boredom was plastered onto his pale skin. the male would light a cigarette and inhale the smoke before exhaling again shortly after. he was aware that smoking would lead to his demise but it wasn’t like he cared.

“yuji, wake up.” his deep voice echoed throughout the house, pushing the cigarette back between his lips when he realized that yuji wasn’t answering his call. he glanced at the now cooked food on the counter, carefully placed on two plates before making his way to yuji’s room.

the small boy was sleeping peacefully. curled up in the blankets and hugging the pochita plushie that choso had gotten him for his birthday. choso couldn’t help but smile. he quietly walked over to the bed and sat down on it.

“come on, yuji, get up. i made you breakfast and it’ll get cold if you don’t wake up.” he said quietly, gently rubbing his brother’s shoulder. it took a moment but yuji finally woke up, his eyelids fluttering as he did.

“morning, choso,” yuji answered drowsily. choso smiled and returned the greeting before picking the boy up and carrying him to the kitchen.

“alright, after you eat, get ready to take a bath, okay? you know i have work today and i want you to be ready before later.” choso would place the plate down in front of yuji simply watched as he quickly cleared his plate.

‘i guess i’m the one that needs to finish my food.’ he thought.

bath time was a bit of a hassle…like every other time. yuji would splash water everywhere, getting the bathroom floor and choso wet. the male was lucky to not be wearing his violet eyeshadow because he knew if he wiped the water from his face, it would smear all over his face and sweater.

“calm down. you know that’s more for me to clean.” choso mumbled as he cleaned his baby brother with the soapy rag. yuji would only laugh and play with his bath toys, not completely listening to what choso had to say, regarding the bathroom turning into a watery mess.

noon rolls around and choso is picking out clothes for yuji to wear. it was getting a little cold out, so he made sure to take out a long sleeve shirt, some joggers, and some clean socks that would keep his small feet warm.

though, choso’s shift didn’t start until 5, the male always liked to be ten steps ahead. he’d pack yuji a lunchable and a turkey sandwich, neatly placed in a ziplock bag with two capri-sun’s along with a pack of chips. in yuji’s small backpack, there was his DS with the charger just in case and all of his favorite games, a couple of his action figures just in case he got bored with the DS, pokémon themed headphones, a couple more snacks, and a change of clothes just in case.

“choso, can i take my coloring book too?” yuji asked. the tall male looked down at yuji and sighed.

“your backpack is a bit small, you know. i don’t think your coloring book can fit.” choso said. “unless you want me to get you a bigger bag to take with you.”

“a bigger bag, please.” yuji answered. choso wanted to roll his eyes. everything in the bag was neatly packed. now he had to do it all over again…but in a bigger bag. he couldn’t be angry, though. he wanted yuji to be comfortable while he was away for a few hours.

everything was completely in order when it was time to walk yuji next door. there was a boy around his age that went by the name of megumi. he always looked bored for some reason, which choso thought was odd for a five year old.

“okay, you have a good time. don’t lose anything and keep everything close to you. um…call me if you—” choso rambled until he realized yuji was already off playing with megumi.

“call me if you need me.” he finally added.

choso was at work now. he got there earlier than he usually did, so he was able to clean the space off quickly before starting his shift.

the night went on smoothly. with him being so quiet and disassociated, it was easy for him to avoid interacting with others if he didn’t have to. as he worked, choso’s hair flowed gracefully as he moved around. he didn’t want to look too childish as a twenty three year old man, so he removed his high ponytails in the bathroom. like that morning, he had his rubber bands secured around his wrist, worn as bracelets.

that’s when you entered the bar area. you’d sit down on one of the stools, watching as each bartender made their way around. tonight was one of your nights where you just wanted to get away from your life’s problems. you needed a break.

“can i help you?” a tall male with medium length brown hair and tired eyes spoke. his voice was deep as if he hadn’t spoke in a while. his voice catches you off guard but you play it off and throw a small smile on your face.

you order yourself a strawberry lemonade that came with a cute little lemon on the side of the glass. you also ended up getting some mozzarella sticks that came with both ranch and marinara sauce. you weren’t much of a picky person, so you dipped the cheese sticks into both condiments.

“how long have you worked here?” you start, trying to spark a conversation with the male that served you. you noticed that he was getting ready to go on break. he had a pack of cigarettes sitting on the counter with a black lighter on top.

he had a black earring in the cartilage of his left ear, a couple rings on both of his hands, and violet eyeshadow around his eyes. that’s what made him look like he didn’t get any proper sleep.

he had on a black formal shirt with black pants. the same outfit the other bartenders had on. the only difference is that he wore black combat boots and everyone else had on sneakers.

choso was a bit taken aback by the question since no one else really asked him anything unless it was work related.

“for a couple years now.” he replied, his deep voice catching you off guard again. “i have a little brother to take care of. i just need money to keep the house up.”

you watch as he picks up the pack of cigarettes, his rings scraping the counter as he did. the lighter clicked before it finally caught a flame.

“you come here a lot?”

“oh, no…i only come here occasionally. tonight just so happened to be one of those nights.” you answer. life was truly kicking you in the ass. with college and everything shaking up your schedule, you found it a bit hard to focus.

“i see,” choso mumbled, taking a drag from his cigarette before pushing the pack towards you, subtly offering you a cigarette to alleviate your nerves. you weren’t a smoker and usually your first instinct would be to kindly decline the offer but this time you went against that.

the two of you talked for as long as you could, managing to get free refills on your lemonade without being charged at all. if you asked any one else, you’d be coming out fifty cents each time you wanted a refill.

you realized that the more you spoke to choso, the more you seemed to take a liking to him. the two of you weren’t the social types and you both usually kept to yourselves. there was a list of things you two had in common. the only difference was the fact that you didn’t have to worry about any younger siblings.

the night ended with the two of you exchanging numbers. you both seemed to really like each other.

choso had come home from work, carrying yuji back to his room because he had fallen asleep while spending his time with megumi and anyone else who may have arrived at the neighbor’s home.

he stared at the phone number on his wrist and he sighed. he enjoyed you. it was the first time he was actually pretty engaged in a conversation with anyone and not disassociating himself. but he couldn’t do it. he didn’t have time for a girlfriend.

he didn’t have the time to fall in love. he had better things to worry about. he couldn’t sit around worrying his tired mind about a woman that he just met.

choso was in deep thought, lying in his bed comfortably with his hair sprawled out over the pillow and his eyes closed, occasionally running a finger across his nose to make sure the bandage was still covering his nose. the male had on his usual tan sweater and some black baggy pants and white socks.

he was in a state of peace. the house was quiet and there wasn’t anyone to bother him. not even his odd intrusive thoughts came in to disturb him. but that peace was derailed when he felt a smaller pair of hands touch his.

“who’s number is this?” yuji asked, holding onto choso’s hand to read the number. he would mumble the numbers to himself. choso exhaled from his nose. it was a start since he wanted yuji to learn his numbers.

“no one’s. i just wrote them down when i was at work.” choso replied, keeping his bored, apathetic expression on his face but this response only made the little pink haired boy smile.

“is it a girl? do you have a girlfriend?”

suddenly, choso could feel the heat rising up in his cheeks, now having a flustered expression. a complete turnaround from his usual appearance.

“no, it isn’t a girl—it…it’s just a couple numbers.” choso was stumbling over his words, trying his hardest not to sound embarrassed by the sudden question.

“do you like her?”

choso sighed, realizing that yuji wasn’t letting up. hiding the truth wasn’t much of an option anymore. the male would smile a bit at his little brother and ruffle his hair gently.

“listen. we have a lot in common and she’s really pretty…i just don’t have the time for a relationship. i have to take care of you, i have work, and i have appointments. you know my anxiety is really bad.” choso rambled. “i’m always nervous about this stuff and—”

“choso?”

“huh? yes?”

“calm down.”

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

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separatist-apologist · 3 months

Text

Take Me Back To The Night We Met

Summary: Gwyneth Berdara wants nothing more than to return home and exact revenge on the courtiers who hurt her and killed her sister. Exiled to a distant temple, Gwyn finds herself at the mercy of a mysterious stranger offering to escort her home on orders from her eldest brother and king of the realm.

Unraveling the secrets of the strange soldier will prove more deadly than Gwyn could ever have imagined, setting into motion events that began nearly five hundred years before.

Happy @gwynrielweeksofficial!

TW for mentions of past sexual assault

Read on Ao3

Five hundred years before:

“No more,” Azriel breathed, spiked boot pressed to the neck of his would-be adversary. “It’s over.”

Heavy chains curled from the loamy ground made of thick roots. It took no effort to bind him given he was dying, bleeding from the sword still protruding in his stomach. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the mighty roar of Rhys and knew he and Cassain were likely suffering similar fates. They’d tried to take the world, to leave the underplane they ruled, to overthrow the high god Koschei.

Where was Lucien, he wondered? Was he dead too? Was this failed cosmic coup over so easily? Azriel wanted to struggle but his body was pinned in place, sinking slowly toward an earthy grave.

“You give up easier than expected,” Koschei murmured, sharpened teeth dripping with some dripping, black substance. “Like a coward.”

Azriel snarled furiously, pulling at the bindings dragging him further down. Could Koschei see the promise of retribution in his gaze? Did he not realize no prison could hold him forever? Azriel would find his way out eventually. He had nothing but eternity to plot and creatures like Koschei grew complacent in the end.

Crouching so he could speak better with Azriel, Koschei flashed another foul smile. “I hear your thoughts, little god. You think you can usurp me with time. Consider your undoing.” With a snap of his fingers, a body fell from the sky, falling with a sickening crunch inches from Azriel. He recognized the red hair, splayed out over a too pale, lifeless face. Knew the body of the woman now crumpled in a heap, the sword broken off in her midriff—he’d given it to her.

A once white ribbon, now stained rust red, was still tied around her forehead. Azriel wanted to reach for it, to blow life into the lifeless body of the only woman he’d ever truly loved.

It had been a mistake to bring humans into this mess. To think he could raise her into godhood—that she wouldn’t get hurt in the end. Azriel had sworn he’d keep her safe.

His Gwyn.

“Pretty little thing,” Koschei murmured, running clawed hands through Gwyn’s tangled hair. “Didn’t you warn her to stay away from monsters?”

“I’ll kill you,” Azriel swore, thrashing again. It only made him sink faster.

“Oh, you’ll try. And every time you raise yourself against me, your little human will find herself reborn and thrust back in your path. You can try and save her, of course—but you have to give up your designs on godhood, shadowsinger. Or you can kill me and watch her die all over again. Something to think about.”

Azriel shouted, but dirt filled his mouth before darkening his vision. With his eyes closed, all he could see was Gwyn’s helpless body left to rot while he was buried beneath her. Azriel forced himself to calm down, just enough to keep his mind clear.

Koschei thought he had him.

But he didn’t know Azriel at all. And the ancient god had only given Azriel time think.

Time to plot.

- -

Gwyneth Berdara woke just before dawn, like she always did. Some internal clock inside her mind refused to let her sleep in—to sleep well—especially now that she’d come to the temple in Sangravagh. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She should have been in the palace with her brothers, should have been mourning her sister's death with the rest of them.

She’d had one minor outburst. One room had exploded into flame before her brother—the king—had extinguished it. Nothing of consequence had been harmed and yet she’d seen that steely look in Eris’s eyes.

“It’s been a year, Gwyneth,” he’d said without humor. “How much longer am I expected to tolerate this?”

“How long would it take you to mourn the death of your other half?” she’d snapped back. That had been a mistake. His patience was already thin—there was conflict at the border, the first in five centuries, and swirling rumors the dark princes were rising from the slumber.

Eris, who lived in the shadow of Lucien Spell-Cleaver—a god, truly, more legend than he’d ever been a living man—was uneasy. Devoid of smiles, same as their late father. As if Beron Vanserra could have any relation to the great Sun King.

So Gwyn was here with the priestesses to learn humility, and to vent her rage somewhere none of the courtiers could see. She wondered what he’d told the court. What had he told Nesta Archeron, Gwyn’s dearest friend? Did he admit the truth? That she was an embarrassment he couldn’t stand any longer? That Eris didn’t want to deal with the messiness of loss, that Catrin’s death didn’t bother him as much because he’d never been close to either of them? They were the youngest by nine years, an accident their father hadn’t wanted and their mother was too exhausted to deal with.

Eris had five brothers, but Gwyn had only Catrin. They’d had governesses, of course, and the usual training given to princesses, but they were merely more players on their father’s board, turning the Vanserra siblings from five to seven in the blink of an eye. They’d run wild, managed more by Eris than their parents, who’d done a better job keeping Catrin’s moods in check.

She was gone now.

And so was Beron.

That left Gwyn to pick up her sister's mantle and give Eris hell when it suited her, and left Eris to exile her until she was ready to stop being a pain in his ass. Or to find her a suitable husband, some minor lord with money and men that Eris could exploit while cleanly wiping his hands of her.

Gwyn resented him for it.

There were secrets, too—things she couldn’t tell Eris, that he’d never guessed. Things she’d confessed only to Catrin, curled up in a bed they’d never been meant to share as she sobbed softly. Of men at court who took far too many liberties and her brothers who were too busy with their own lives to notice their sisters.

Catrin had nearly convinced Gwyn to tell Eris the truth.

And now she was dead.

Unlike the other priestesses, Gwyn was given her own room at the top of one of the dark spires in the temple. It wasn’t nice, nor was it spacious, but it was private and that was all that mattered. She didn’t have her own bathing chamber which annoyed her given Gwyn had to trek down circling stairs and make her way through the drafty temple for the one bathing room they all shared.

She didn’t like the way they stared at her, how their laughter and conversations died when she stepped into the room. Maybe that was why she’d begun getting up early. Better to bathe alone than to endure their quiet judgment. They didn’t want her here, either. They loathed having to teach her to work in the garden (a task Gwyn hated), and embroider, (Gwyn stuck her finger almost as often as her cloth), and work the stables (the horses were nice, but their stalls were foul). Gwyn didn’t mind midwifery so much, though the first time she’d watched a woman bleed out while the other priestess called it Lady Death’s will, Gwyn had found she liked it a little less. Everything was left in the hands of the gods and no one had to take any responsibility for their actions. The gods ordained every act of cruelty and mortals were helpless to resist. Gwyn loathed that more than anything.

The only place that felt like solace was the library. It was a special privilege to work there, earned after years of dedication and Gwyn knew the other priestesses resented seeing her working for Merril. The books kept the score, besides—villains always got what they deserved, the heroes always came out triumphant. Even outside of the novels she loved, history was written in the blood of victors and lacked the meddling hands of the gods. Gwyn was allowed to help transcribe these histories which was clearly her brother's influence. Everyone knew it.

They didn’t know the alternative was her constant attempts at escaping. They didn’t understand that Clotho had watched as Gwyn was dragged back, at first kicking and screaming, before she’d become compliant, though still defiant. She would rather die than sit in the temple, complacent and meek, awaiting Eris’s decision on what to do with her. So she ran, and she was caught, and she ran again. Over and over and over until Clotho finally had enough.

Signing silently, Clotho had said, If you stay, you can work among the books.

It was a bribe more than anything. Gwyn imagined Clotho loathed having to write her brother all those letters about how difficult she was. And Gwyn was certain Eris had demanded they find a way to make her complacent, along with a hefty sum of gold.

And hated even more that it had worked.

She’d loved the library at home, and she loved it here in Sangravagh even more. Here they had books that went back to the reign of Lucien Spell-Cleaver. That told the story of the epic battle between him and the legendary Dark Lord—The Shadowsinger. Defeated at the very last moment, when all hope was lost, by the Sun King’s unassuming, beautiful wife. Her mother had told her and Catrin that story more often than any other. It was said his body had been cut into five pieces, scattered to the four corners of the globe while his head was buried beneath the floors of the Forest House. It was said that Lucien himself had buried him that way to ensure he never returned.

Catrin used to sympathize with the Shadowsinger—likely the only person in the world who could. Gwyn had been mesmerized, proud to be part of that legacy. Curious, too, as she’d become older. How much of it was actually true, and how much was merely legend. Gwyn suspected Lucien Spell-Cleaver had been mythologized, melded with other, older legends until he became a god-like figure.

And the Shadowsinger much the same.

In the library, Gwyn found records from the time, recording births and deaths, and endless expenses for building palaces and roads and walls. She found records of ship inventories carrying the goods from Velaris and Illryia to Avalon, which meant the legends of the Lord of Bloodshed and his equally terrifying brother known only as Death Incarnate, couldn’t be real, either. They were said to rule Velaris and Illyria proper, and the Shadowsinger oversaw what was now Avalon.

Likely they had just been regular men, too, whose regimes were toppled and they, too, were made more fearsome by legend trying to immortalize an Empire, and terrifying those that would defy it. Bedtime stories for children, real lives made into parables to teach lessons.

She couldn’t stop herself from translating the books, though. From painstakingly working by candle, until it had burned to nothing and she was half asleep against the hardwood surface. Merrill allowed her to do so, likely because it kept her busy and out of everyone's way.

Gwyn rushed through her morning bath, well aware that the stipulations to being in the library required her to spend three mornings a week shoveling horse shit from the stables.

Gwyn always chose the first three days to get it out of the way. Begrudgingly, she could admit to herself that the hard labor did calm her mind a little. She’d never say that out loud, but Gwyn liked the horses, too.

She dressed quickly, slipping on the standard blue of her robes that all priestesses wore. She had some old gowns from court but Eris had ordered she be treated no different than anyone else. What good was chiffon and lace in a place like this? Once, Gwyn had cherished those things. She and her sister had giggled over new gowns made of silk, had spent hours at the dressmakers ordering everything that caught their eye and then some. Catrin, especially, had more dresses than anyone could ever have worn and had taken such care with her appearance. She’d been so beautiful, so lively—the living embodiment of the flame that wound its way through their family bloodline.

Gwyn couldn’t prove she’d been murdered to keep silence but rumor had been spreading that something had happened. Catrin couldn’t hide her rage, had snapped at the men responsible, had messed around in their policies and in one particularly cut-throat move, interfered in an impending marriage that would have enriched one of the families beyond their wildest dreams.

It’s my quiet revenge until you’re ready to get loud, Catrin had told her.

Gwyn had always been afraid to be angry, to take up space.

Not anymore.

The air was cooler than usual, salty without the tang of fish that it usually had. Gwyn could hear the ocean churning in the distance and knew if she continued walking toward the cliffside she’d find the brutal gray waves rising and falling against the rock, battering away. She wasn’t allowed to go that far—everyone thought she might fling herself off the edge.

Some days it was tempting.

Some days her anger burned so hot Gwyn thought she might explode from it. Today was one of those days. It itched beneath her skin, expanding until she felt like she couldn’t contain her feelings. Her sister wasn’t just dead. She’d been murdered. Eris swore he was looking for the killer, had promised Gwyn there would be justice but there wasn’t, and there hadn’t been. Did her brother suspect the truth? That nobles in his own court were responsible and condemning them to death was likely to cause an exodus and, even worse, an attempted coup? Or was he too busy with things he deemed more important to see what felt so obvious to Gwyn. Maybe she could have pieced Catrin’s final night alive together—all she had were her suspicions.

Now she had nothing at all.

Gwyn looked up at the moody sky wishing she had the Spell-Cleaver’s affinity for magic. All she had was flame, and it was fairly pathetic in comparison to her brothers. Perhaps that was for the best—Gwyn might have raised the whole world in her grief and anger.

Instead she put on mucking shoes and made her way to the horse stalls. The first stall was easy enough. Pancakes was a sweet, older gelding who didn’t mind getting out of Gwyn’s way so she could take a pitchfork to the manure and replace the soiled hay with something fresh. Gwyn replaced the water in the bucket and fed her before she was rewarded with a sweet nudge from a soft, gray nose.

The next stall was more of the same, and by the time Gwyn reached the third, she was coated in sweat and already thinking about her books. She wouldn’t be done before lunch and already regretted not having breakfast. Still, the quiet company of the animals soothed some of her rage and the work kept her mind mostly quiet.

Pulling open the wooden stall, Gwyn paused. Buttercream was waiting for breakfast with impatient eyes, nearly trampling the limp body in his stall. Gwyn blinked, certain she was seeing it wrong—but that was a man lying there.

Dried blood stuck to his midnight black hair, to the golden brown of his cheeks, to the white of his torn shirt. Gwyn took a step forward, thinking this wasn’t the first dead body she’d seen. Buttercream stepped out of the stall entirely which was going to get Gwyn in trouble. She considered going back for the horse before deciding that Clotho would understand.

Hopefully.

Gwyn knelt beside the body, roughly turning him to this back. More dried blood caked over his neck and his bare chest, though she couldn’t tell where he’d been wounded. An old scar screamed white against his neck, like someone had tried to cut it and failed. Gwyn swallowed hard, fingers trembling as she pressed them against the pulsepoint.

He gasped, eyes flying open to look at her. His bloodless lips parted, hazel eyes dilating with fear. Gwyn tried to skitter back but he grabbed both her arms with a surprisingly strong grip, sitting up just enough to put them at eye level.

His were the most intoxicating mix of brown and green, dotted gold around his iris. “You,” he breathed before releasing her arms to hold her face in callused hands. “You—get help.”

She might have done exactly as he demanded had he not crushed his mouth against hers. Gwyn yelped, held in place by this stranger who, despite the blood coating his skin, tasted like warm smoke curling against icy snow. Gwyn kept her eyes open and so did he before those thick, dark lashes fluttered and he felt back with a loud thud.

Gwyn exhaled, fingers flying to her lips. It should have enraged her, this kiss from a stranger who hadn’t even asked if he could touch her. Yet another man taking what he wanted without bothering to ask, to consider if she wanted what he was offering. And yet…Gwyn’s fingers found her lips, eyes still on his unconscious body pillowed by straw. It hadn’t felt like conquest the way it had before. This felt like desperation—like he needed help and could think of no other way to convince her.

It was her first, proper kiss. She’d imagined something different. Someone different.

Not a vagrant half dead in a barn.

Gwyn rose to her feet, hating how her knees were wobbling. “CLOTHO!” she screamed, stepping back out into the cool world.

Overhead, thunder clapped a warning.

And the skies began pouring rain.

- -

Gwyn was in the library, hidden far in the back when she heard the voices of other priestesses. “He can’t stay,” someone whispered. “I told Merrill as much.” “Where did he even come from?” asked another. Gwyn paused from her scroll, grateful for an excuse to rest her aching hand.

“This isn’t the first time a man has tried to infiltrate.”

“I heard his throat was cut—”

“He was stabbed, supposedly. I told Clotho we ought to leave him to die—”

“That’s terrible.”

The priestesses had been forbidden from visiting the stranger, but Gwyn wasn’t a priestess. And she was curious given he’d kissed her right before passing out. Surely she deserved to see how he was progressing before he was kicked out of the temple? That man was the first interesting thing that had happened since she’d arrived six months before.

She waited until the voices floated away before putting her things away and blowing out her candle. No one paid her any mind as she walked the familiar stone halls, guided only by the silvery moonlight overhead.

Gwyn knew exactly where he’d be, assuming he was still alive. He’d be closer to her tower where they kept people who’d committed egregious offenses. Gwyn had never seen that happen but she’d heard of a priestess who’d been stealing coins for a lover in a nearby village. The punishment was typically just long enough to cool whatever ardor existed between the lovers—men were fickle things. A week of no contact and they slunk off, moving on with a new, warmer body while the woman was left to pine. Gwyn pitied them both. Was that all love was? Close proximity ignited with physical touch?

She wasn’t interested.

Gwyn turned down the sharp corridor, ignoring the door that would take her up to her tower for the one at the far end of the hall. Pushing it open, she saw him lying on a cot, his shirt cut from his body and his chest wrapped in pristine white bandages. The blood had been washed from his body, leaving him utterly bare from the waist up. Gwyn thought there was something odd about him—something missing, though she couldn’t explain what, exactly.

She was distracted by a trail of dark hair starting just beneath his navel, vanishing in the band of his pants. Cocking her head, she examined the hard muscle of him, made softer in sleep but still visible through his skin. Who was he, she wondered?

She didn’t realize he was awake until she glanced back at his face, meaning to leave. “You again,” he murmured in a midnight dark voice. “I thought I imagined you.”

Gwyn’s heart began thudding in her chest. “You passed out in the stables,” she told him.

“Seemed like a safe option at the time,” he replied, groaning a little as he tried to sit up.

“What happened to you?”

He glanced down at the bandage wrapped around his body. “A knife.”

“Did you rob someone?”

A smile tugged at his lips and Gwyn was struck by how beautiful he was. She was used to beautiful men—all her brothers had the good Vanserra genes, after all, passed down from the Sun King himself. And the lords at court were often quite handsome with the annoying quality of knowing it. This man, though, was different. Otherworldly in his beauty and radiating strength—strong jaw, high cheekbones, an aquiline nose and a full mouth. Those dark lashes didn’t hurt him, either, nor did how nicely his body was arranged.

“I’m a soldier, not a thief.”

“You’re a long way from the border,” Gwyn said, arms crossed over her chest. The man watched her for a moment, his amusement plain.

“What do you know about conflict in Avalon?”

Not much, admittedly. She’d never cared to, and it wasn’t like Eris shared with her. She was his obnoxious baby sister and not a trusted advisor. “What are you doing so far up north?”

“I’m looking for a princess,” he admitted, head cocked as he took her in. “The king sent me to retrieve her.”

Of fucking course he did. Gwyn blew out a breath. “He’s too good to come himself?”

He snorted a small laugh. “I suppose he’s quite busy with his soon-to-be-wife.”

“Wife?” she spluttered. “What woman in her right mind would marry Eris?”

The soldier laughed then, head tipping back as the throaty sound filled the small chamber. “I won’t tell him you said so,” he replied, wincing a little as he tried to draw a breath. “Princess.”

Gwyn only frowned. So Eris was getting married, and she was freed temporarily from exile. How very like him to send a messenger rather than fetch her himself. Gwyn swallowed the hurt, not wanting this man to see her anger.

“I’ll tell him myself when we arrive. She must be out of options.”

“I hear she’s incredibly beautiful,” he countered, those eyes practically glowing feline in the dark. “And that he’s in love with her.”

“You must not know him well.” Eris wasn’t capable of love save for, perhaps, their mother. A wife, though? No, that was something political, an alliance that benefitted Eris so greatly he’d tie himself to the terms legally. Gwyn imagined she was likely beautiful and meek, the sort of woman that would stay out of his way. A woman he could discard without concern only to pick back up when she became necessary.

“Better than you think, princess,” the soldier countered. But Gwyn very much doubted that. This didn’t look like one of Eris’s personal guards, one of his most trusted. This looked like someone who could get stabbed on the side of the road without Eris caring too terribly much. Maybe he was hoping so he could snub Gwyn only to inform her he had sent someone, and how tragic that they’d never made it. Gwyn had enough of the entire thing.

“You should rest, then. It’s a long journey back to the palace.”

“Clotho was very kind, offering me this room. I offered to sleep in the stables.”

Gwyn didn’t care. She turned her back to him, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she went. She was too busy seething at Eris to fall on niceties. This was merely more proof that her family only ever saw her as a burden. It was only when she reached the door and heard the man groan again, settling back against that threadbare cot, that she wondered who he was.

“What’s your name, soldier?” she asked.

There was a beat, and then— “Azriel,” he told her. Something in the air hummed for a moment before the world stilled again, some magic Gwyn didn’t recognize. Only the royals and the gods commanded magic—no simple soldier could have evoked such a response. It was merely a manifestation of her own anger or some desire to be more important than she was. The gods had long turned their gazes from her—had abandoned her entirely.

“Sleep well, then, Az—” Gwyn choked on the name, unsure why she couldn’t say it.

And maybe he knew it, because his mouth quirked to the side, even as he settled back to the bed, one hand on his bare stomach. Something about him seemed off—he didn’t look like Eris’s usual type. Though, to be fair, what did she really know about Eris anymore? Ever since their father died and he’d taken over, Eris was different.

Maybe his soldiers were, too.

#gwynriel #my humble submission

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yourlocaltreesimp · 7 months

Text

All Chained Up

ACU masterlist

Last Chapter (n/a) ੈ✩‧₊˚ Next chapter

Tw: None

Chapter 1: Days drift past

At the beginning of every good story, there’s two key things. The first being nothing, the way of simplistic sleepy life that days drift past in a haze. Small things like running around with your friends as children, staining your pants with grass as you tumble through weedy fields or stacks of work and the cramp in your wrist as you write… minute things that fill up time. But then comes something that disrupts the simplicity. Something that holds your comfort captive. It hangs over the characters in whatever book read or game played until the issue is resolved with a fitting amount of fighting. You supposed your life was much the same, at least half of it. Days slipped past your fingers in paperwork and assignments, unable to break from the chains you found yourself wrapped in. Bills needed to be paid and there were fewer ways to do that. At some point, you stopped waiting for something to change. You stopped waiting for some villain to make themselves known. You stopped waiting for your story to begin. The tired sigh that racked your body was one you were well acquainted with. The cycle of burnout and exhaustion never truly left- if there was anything hanging over your head, it’d be that, not some petty villain. The thought almost made you laugh, the exhale you let out amused. You got into bed, knowing that the next day you’d be met with the same things and the same people. The same lines and patterns of your days. You always felt out of place, like some bird trapped in a cage, that you were one of a kind. But surely if you had that thought, you couldn’t be that different… but that nagging feeling gnawed at your ribs like carnal fear. Something you’d forgotten- something you yourself couldn’t rectify.

You were not met with your bedroom when you woke up. In fact, you weren’t sure if you were met with much of anything. The world before you was blank and cool. An endless expanse of darkness that nothing could cut through. Your joints were stiff as you moved them, grasping at the empty space in front of you.

“What?” Your voice was quiet, as if the sound did not reflect. It felt like you were moving through water to look around you, resistance meeting your movements. You searched for anything aside from yourself, but when you turned, you weren’t met with much. More darkness and a small ball of light, no larger than a marble, dimly glowing. It hummed quietly when you held it in your hands, something familiar that you couldn’t quite recall. But you weren’t given the time to consider it. Instead, you heard voices. Small whispering chitters- overlapping one another in a wave of sound you couldn’t decipher.

“They’re here! I cant bel- We’ve missed you. W- You won’t leave again wil- The King. Get the King.” The voices cut after the final utter, and you were left with far more questions than ideal. They hissed and whispered, so close to being legible and yet so muffled. The whispers only increased in frequency and volume until one cold voice cut across them all.

“Quiet.” His voice was that of such authority that you yourself felt small in comparison. It pierced through you, cracking your ribs and heading straight to where you were most vulnerable. His voice crackled like static, something so unnatural. The symphony of little voices fell quiet as asked. You turned to face this man, the one who they called ‘the King’. His hair was a snow white fluffy as tufts of it brushed past his cheekbones, skin that of a pale grey. His face was sharp, as if carved from marble, perfect and smooth. His eyes were what caught you. For they held no sclera and were instead glowing vats of red. The kind that put roses to shame for their redness, and yet were just as captivating. He examined you as you did him, though his expression was that of utter reverence, as though he was looking at god themself. The sharpness you saw softened, his lips parting and angular eyebrows furrowing in something of concern. He stepped forward but you stepped back.

“It really is you.” His voice no longer hissed, instead it was clear and quiet- a secret shared between the two of you. You and this man you did not know. You and this man who has chosen to show himself as a threat.

This man who called out to you so wholly that it was terrifying. They say animals will most often not understand nor recognize themselves when met with a reflection, so perhaps this was the inverse.

“You’ve returned to me” He sounds relieved, albeit crazed. The glint in his eyes the same as an addict awaiting their next hit, and you fear he’s found it in you.

“What do you…” Your voice fails you and you trail off, caught off guard as he takes another step forward.

“Oh my dearest… You can’t have forgotten me, can you?” He smirks, his voice curling in a way that has you questioning if he was taunting you. But the amusement fades when his examination sees that you do not look upon him with the same familiarity. You’re scared. A deer caught in a trap with no way to escape, only to await the inevitable. “No matter. You will remember soon.” He returns to half talking to himself and you, nodding to comfort himself. He fiddles with something in his hands, marbles, you think. They faintly glow as he rolls them from palm to palm with a stretching smile, baring his teeth. They vary in colour slightly, from magenta, to lime, to cerulean, each humming a slightly different tune, winding to make a harmony. You count 9 marbles, each clearly meant to mean more than what they currently are… but the number holds no significance.

“I kept them safe for you my dear… But I will admit I've had my fun. Don’t fret, I haven't caused too much harm… yet.” He smiles, a sly grin as he holds them out to you, along with your own small one you disregarded until now. And as they pile into your hand, you feel you slip past yourself, and away from your own body.

#all chained up #all chained up boom #linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #yandere linked universe #linked universe x reader #link x reader #link x you #yandere linked universe x reader #x reader #yandere link x reader #lu dink #fir’s library

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ozai-the-bonsai · 2 years

Text

Tame the Dragon

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!reader

Summary: After Daemon returns from Stepstones, he takes a fancy to you. Enjoying the excitement Daemon’s interest brings to you (and also wanting to take revenge from your mother), you decide you want to play with fire.

Warnings: I’m not a native English speaker, no smut in this part but rather dirty thoughts, strong language, incest, I used an online translator for High Valyrian

A/N: I am planning to write 2 parts (or maybe 3, depending on how long the second one gets). The first part is more of an introduction to build up the tension between Daemon and the reader.

|Part 1|

“This is wrong.” You whispered; however, the fact that you were short on breath wasn’t helping the situation at all. As his soft lips met the sensitive skin of your neck once again, you pressed your lips against each other to silence the moan that dared to escape.

Daemon breathed against your neck as he spoke. “Why would it be?”

Your pale, violet eyes found that of Daemon’s, which were darkened with lust, as he raised his head from the crook of your neck. “You are married,” you spoke quietly, “and I am to be married.”

With a careless manner, Daemon shrugged. “Marriage is just a political arrangement,” he said and let his right hand slide under the skirts of your dress, causing you to gasp as his fingers began to draw circles on your inner thigh. “We can still do what we want,” placing his left hand around your waist, Daemon pulled you against him so that there was no visible distance left between you two, “fuck who we want.”

A loud thud coming from outside woke you up, the sleeping Princess, from your sweet dream. As you slowly pushed yourself to seated, it took a while for you to realise that it was just a dream -all of it. However, you could still feel the ghost of Daemon’s lips on your neck, and the throbbing between your legs was just as real as it was in the dream.

“Fuck,” you muttered while you ran your fingers through your silver hair, which was damp with sweat. You hated yourself for feeling this way, but your disappointment could not be put into words -you were disappointed that it was all just a dream.

Even the slightest thought about the Rogue Prince made your skin burn, you could feel the flame of desire growing inside you.

Ever since he had returned from Stepstones with a crown on his head, you kept finding your looks lingering on his face, rather on his lips to be more precise, dangerously long enough for anyone to notice if they paid enough attention.

However, Daemon wasn’t helping you either.

You shook your head as you muttered to yourself. “He started this in the first place.”

[Flashback]

You have always had a special bond with Caraxes, even though you had your own dragon. The first time you have ridden a dragon when you were little was with Uncle Daemon on Caraxes, and ever since that day, you have been spending some time with Caraxes, occasionally, whenever Daemon wasn’t around.

“You may wait outside, Ser Ryden.” You told your guard with a warm smile on your crimson lips. “You know that Caraxes means no harm.”

Ser Ryden was, as always, not comfortable with leaving you alone in the presence of Caraxes; however, he had known you long enough to realise that arguing with you would not change your mind. Hence, he nodded and stood guard outside as you walked towards an old friend of yours.

In fact, it was expected for you to be outside at that moment, alongside the other members of House Targaryen, celebrating the victory of your uncle. You knew very well that your absence would not go unnoticed, especially by your mother -Delaena Targaryen, the lady wife of Prince Baelon Targaryen -the late brother of King Viserys and Prince Daemon. Being the youngest of his brothers, your father had been the first to pass away when you were two-and-ten.

You have never had the best relationship with your mother and after your father’s death, you two have grown farther apart. It bothered her to the core that you were, to her dismay, very much like your Uncle Daemon and the more you grew, the more reckless and freer you have become.

Lately, she had been having far too many difficulties trying to keep you on a leash and as the final solution, she had decided to wed you to Jason Lannister -or Rhaenyra’s leftovers.

As you laid your left hand on Caraxes’ head, a soft smile formed on your lips upon feeling the familiar warmth flowing into your body from Caraxes. “I have missed you, too, my friend.” You spoke with a low voice. “It has been lonely here without you.”

Resting your forehead against the dragon’s scales, a memory started playing in front of your eyes.

“You should be grateful that a man as wealthy and reputable as Ser Jason Lannister has agreed to take you as wife!” Your mother snarled at you in your chambers. It was the day she decided to ‘give’ you to the Lannister family to soothe her ‘headache’. The disgusted look in your mother’s blue eyes caused tears to form in yours. “After everything you’ve done, I wasn’t expecting any noble man to accept you, to take you as his lady wife.”

“How could you say that?” You asked her, wiping away the tears with the sleeves of your red dress. “You are the one trying to wed me to Rhaenyra’s leftovers!”

Your mother had a threatening look in her eyes as she took a step towards you. “How dare you…”

Not letting her finish, you continued to speak. Your voice was raising, so was your anger. You could feel the dragon becoming more and more dangerous with each passing second. “You say you care oh so much about my reputation, don’t you, Mother?” Your spat the words out as if they were venom. “That man got turned down by Rhaenyra! You, you deem me worthy of the future Queen’s rubbish!”

Even though your mother was not a dragon by blood, she had, over the years, learned how to imitate its fury. As she grabbed you harshly by your arm, you could see the flames of her anger reaching her blue eyes. “Do you truly believe that your worth is anyhow more than that of ‘the future Queen’s rubbish’?” Your mother hissed between her greeted teeth. “You are a Targaryen Princess of nine-and-ten, Y/N, who has spent the last two years playing with her whores, degrading herself and dishonouring her family name, instead of marrying a noble man and being a dutiful lady wife!”

The knocking on the door caused your mother to lower her voice and let go off your arm. She pointed at you with her index finger in a threatening manner. “You will do as I say and marry Ser Jason Lannister, Y/N. You do not get a say in this.”

What brought you back to reality was the familiar voice coming from behind you. Upon hearing him, you slowly straightened your back and turned your head slightly to look at him.

“How painful is it that my lovely niece missed my dragon more than she missed me?” Daemon Targaryen spoke as he walked towards you.

You chuckled softly. “Well, I thought you have long known that I liked Caraxes more.” For a quick moment, you eyed Daemon from head to foot. It had been a long time since you had seen him with short hair and you had to admit that it suited him better. Short hair made him look even more attractive -as if it were possible in the first place. “Congratulations on your victory.”

Daemon nodded at you and rested his right hand on Caraxes’ nose as he stood to your right.

“Aōha muñnykeā istan jurnegēre syt ao.” [Your mother was looking for you.]

You shrugged; your voice didn’t carry any sign of care as you replied. “Nyke gīmigon.” [I know.]

The prince took a quick look at you from the corner of his eye. “Kessa sagon isse vēdros lēda ao.” [She will be furious with you.]

“Kostas jikagon naejot nopāzma syt mirre nyke jorrāelagon.” [She can go to hell for all I care.]

Upon hearing your last remark, Daemon raised a questioning eyebrow at you as he turned left to face you. He could see the flames of rage reflecting from your violet eyes. “I have never seen you carrying such hatred, Y/N.”

Once again, you shrugged. “You have been gone for years, Daemon,” you responded, crossing your arms over your chest. “I have changed. We all have changed.”

Daemon took his time while his eyes wandered on your body shamelessly, and for the first time in your life, you felt heat rushing to your face under the looks of a man. “Indeed, you have grown into a beautiful woman,” he spoke, his eyes returning to yours, looking down at you. “A beautiful, free woman,” with slow movements, Daemon pushed a strand of silver hair behind your ear as he leaned into your ear, his voice becoming a mere whisper, “who loves to push her mother’s limits every time she gets the chance. I have been hearing about the amusing life you have been leading for the past few years.”

You couldn’t help yourself but shiver as Daemon’s warm breath licked the skin close to your ear. Daemon had always been a forbidden fruit, the taste of which you would never dare dream of, for you knew once you got the sweet taste, you would never settle for anything less, anything else.

Hence, you had never let yourself fantasise about him.

Until now.

The prince clicked his tongue and straightened his back, looking down at you once more with a deep look inside his purple eyes. “Much to your mother’s dismay, rumour has it that you have taken rather after me.”

“Then you should also know that she is planning to put me on a leash,” you muttered, it was obvious that the matter overmuch disturbed you.

Daemon nodded as he rested his left hand on your right shoulder and let it slide down your arm, which was not covered by any cloth since you were wearing a sleeveless dress, until reaching your hand. You took a deep breath.

“Such a disappointment,” he spoke with a low voice as he switched to High Valyrian. “Se Lānistor valītsos kessa mērī jenigon ao naejot morghon.” Holding your hand, the prince started to caress the back of it. Everywhere he touched on your skin was burning. “Kessa daor sagon harrenka naejot tjeahme se zaldrīzes.” [The Lannister boy will only bore you to death. He will not be enough to tame the dragon.]

The edge of your crimson lips curled upwards. “No one can tame the dragon,” you whispered, it seemed as if the distance between your bodies was becoming less and less each passing moment, “unless I want them to.”

Daemon raised his right hand, slowly, he began to caress your cheek with the side of his index finger. You heaved a sigh, his touch was something else. It left you wanting for more -you wanted his hands to caress every single spot on your body.

As your eyes began lingering on his lips, you were interrupted by some footsteps coming from outside. Quickly, you pulled yourself away and put some visible distance between yourself and Daemon. However, there was also another part of you that wanted to be seen with him -so that rumours could start going around the Keep about you and Daemon.

The Unruly Princess and the Rogue Prince.

“Princess, Lady Delaena wishes to see you.” Ser Ryden told you. You heaved an exaggerated sigh.

Daemon sent you a playful smirk. “Now that I am back, I suppose we will be seeing each other ofter, Princess.” Taking your hand, he brought it to his lips. On your way back, even though you were very well aware that a fight with your mother was awaiting you, all you could think about was how Daemon’s soft lips would feel against yours.

[Flashback ends]

Upon recalling your encounter with Daemon from the previous day, you realised that even the memory itself was enough to deprive you from the last bits of sleep hanging from your eyelashes as your skin, once again, started aching for his touch. It was impossible to think about anything but him. As your looks lingered on the flames dancing on the candles, you couldn’t help yourself but try to continue the inappropriate dream you’ve recently had.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you shook yourself and quickly stood up from your bed. You could feel how soaked you were -just the thought of him running his hands along your naked body was enough to get you wet, but the image of him having you cry out his name as he pounded you was enough to drive you to his doorstep at this time of the night. “I need to get out of here if I am to escape these dirty images in front of my eyes.”

Taking a black, hooded robe on your red, silk nightgown, you left your chambers with quick steps as you ran your fingers through your silver hair. Of course, Ser Ryden stopped you in your tracks as soon as you closed the door behind you.

“It is late, Princess.” He spoke with a bowed head. “You know I cannot let you go outside at this time, even if I’m to be at your side.”

You took a deep breath as you wrapped your arms around your body, trying to adjust to the coldness of the Keep’s halls at night. “I don’t intend to leave the Keep, Ser Ryden.” You said and upon seeing his expression, you added with a soft tone.” I am having trouble sleeping, I just need a short, night stroll to get my mind off the things.”

Ser Ryden heaved a sigh -having known you long enough, he had learnt not to insist when you set your mind onto something, because he knew very well that you’d end up doing that thing either way. Hence, instead of fighting you and pushing you to wander around on your own, he chose to be there by your side to protect you from any potential harm.

“But not too far and not for too long.”

With a warm smile on your lips, you thanked Ser Ryden and started heading towards the Great Hall. At night, the silence in there always eased your mind and calmed your thoughts. You were hoping that it could help you silence your dirty thoughts about Daemon as well.

Little did you know that this time, your favourite spot was already taken.

#daemon x reader #daemon x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #hotd #hotd fic #daemon x rhaenyra #matt smith #game of thrones

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xiefuyu · 8 months

Text

Brother, I'm here.

-- Kurokawa Izana x little sister reader

🖤 — Tokyo Revengers

📝 — implication of domestic abuse, hurt/comfort, FLUFF (fawking finally), thinking of murder (its valid i swear), your relationship with everyone is platonic!, not proofread

:a/n — guys, i love the kurokawa siblings /sighs fondly (wc: 2.8k)

— PT. 1 / PT. 2/PT.3/PT.4/PT.5

You woke up to another day where you’re being wrapped by warm arms and blankets. It never fails to put a small smile on you as you register. It's just your brother being clingy again.

When he first took you to his home and you woke up from exhaustion, tears and apologies were thrown to each other as you talked about things that are long overdue. Tears mostly belonging to you and apologies from him.

Despite wanting to prepare food for the both of you, your brother insisted on making meals and was just happy to let you watch because he’s right in the fact that you don’t know anything about Japanese cuisine.

Nevertheless, he made you promise him that you’ll cook him Filipino cuisine in the near future. For now, he’s like an excited kid about to show his parents something as he insisted on cooking homemade meals for you.

Today, you were promised to meet some of his close friends because he wanted you to interact with another being despite his unsurprisingly growing protectiveness over you.

So far, the only people who had the privilege to visit and see you were Kakucho, Mikey and Emma, albeit hesitantly because they didn’t know how you’ll react after what happened, Draken, the gentle almost bald boy, Takemichi and his girlfriend, Hinata.

You were curious about the tall braided man and the man who was in a ponytail and inquired about them to your brother but you saw how he frowned, clearly contemplating something before sighing and telling you that he’ll introduce them to you soon.

“Kuya, kuya.” you call out to his sleeping form, grinning when he grunted. “Kuya.” you call out again and just like any other day, you could hear gears turning in his head as he slowly opens his eyes and looks at you with slightly wide eyes.

It was as if he’s still not believing that you’re real and that he indeed has a blood-related family.

“Good morning! You promised me today that you’ll introduce me to your friends!” you excitedly said, shaking him with your grip on his arm. He sighs, nodding. “I know, Y/N, I know. Good morning to you, too.”

You hop off the bed, stretching, already feeling happy for the day.

Your doorbell rings and before you could even take a step to answer the door, you’re being pulled behind by Izana, him smiling down at you.

“I’ll take it.”

You know it’s because he doesn’t trust anyone beyond the safe comfort of your house until he knows who it is.

“Oh, Kakucho.” you hear him faintly before standing outside from your bedroom.

“Kuya Kaku, hello.” you softly greeted with a bow. Everyone older than you had grown accustomed to the word Kuya. “Don’t be so formal, Y/N-chan.” he says, his tone just as soft as yours as he reaches for you to ruffle your hair.

But along the action, you flinched, closing your eyes a bit and stepping back, hands coming to protect your head.

Silence surrounded you as your face paled at what you did. It was on instinct, you swear, but that’s not the problem. You just protected yourself from a man who was nothing but nice to you and they will know that about the abuse! You don’t want that!

However, instead of questions, all you got was a soft pat in the head.

You didn’t miss the look your brother and Kuya Kaku shared, though.

Izana wholeheartedly believed that your hands aren't aware of what violence is. He believed that you're just an innocent girl with her big doe eyes.

But as he watches you interact with the four heavenly kings plus Sanzu, he's hyper aware of your flinches every now and then whenever they make big gestures to accompany their stories.

Something ugly bubbles in him. Something familiar.

Rage.

He doesn't want to think about the reason behind your little actions that you're clearly trying to not act out.

He doesn't want to think about you crying helplessly as you beg the person to stop hurting you.

He doesn't want to think about the times you cried for his help.

But he knows that the truth always finds its way to shine despite being buried where the light doesn't reach. He knows he'll have a conversation with you.

Knows that he'll need to dig up painful memories for you to let it all out.

However, for now, he'll let you enjoy and let you take your time even though he'll surely drop hints for you to take and know that he wants to know everything about your life when he was still not present.

"Kuya Rin, can you tie my hair?" He hears you ask and sees the way Rindou blinks at you in confusion before pointing at himself. "Yes, you." you say, tilting your head.

Rindou looks at Ran who raises an eyebrow at him. "You don't want him to braid your hair instead?" You shake your head and laugh a little when Ran pouts.

"Kuya Ran can braid my hair next time. I want to have a matching hairstyle with Kuya Rin today."

At that moment, the Haitani brothers shared the same sentiment.

"Should we snatch this little sister from Izana and make her our little sister instead?" (fondly)

But one feeling of Izana's murderous gaze on them was enough to throw the thought away. Not completely off the table, though.

"All right, come here."

Despite your brother's hesitance, one that you don't understand why, to let you meet the Haitani brothers, he's happy to know that you're enjoying their presence.

Aside from being instantly comfortable with Kakucho, the Haitani brothers' presence was enough to make you feel comfortable, too. Maybe it's because Ran knows how to deal with younger kids but he got close with you rather quickly.

As for Rindou, he was afraid that you'll fear him because he doesn't know how to be expressive but you didn't hesitate calling him Kuya and smiling at him.

If Ran is kind to you, you were so sure that Rindou will be kind, too, and you were right.

The others were big and looked strong but they all smiled softly at you albeit awkwardly when Izana introduced them.

However, the masked person, Sanzu, hasn't spoken a word towards you and you think that he's not comfortable around your presence.

You slowly made your way towards Izana and tugs on his arm, interrupting his conversation with Kakucho and Shion.

"What is it? Are you hungry? Tired?" you shook your head with a smile. "Does that person ever talk?" you whispered to him after pointing at Sanzu. "I want to talk to him but he might not be comfortable interacting with others…"

Izana looks at Sanzu who's talking with Mucho and hums. It's not like he doesn't trust Sanzu but the guy only talks to Mucho and he's afraid he'll ignore you and hurt your feelings by doing so.

"Why don't you try talking to him?" he suggests, watching you purse your lips before nodding with a soft okay.

He doesn't get back to talking to Kakucho and Shion, opting to watch you make your way towards the long-haired boy.

"You're Kuya Haru, right?" you softly asked. You watch as Sanzu looks at you, glancing at Mucho for a bit before nodding. "You need something?" he asks, making you smile and you could see the confusion in his furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, it's just, it's my first time hearing you talk so I'm happy, I guess." you ranted, sitting besides him, eyes practically shining at him.

He gulps. It's been a while since he interacted with someone else lest a girl younger than him. You reminded him of Senju, for some reason.

"Your hair looks so healthy." you absentmindedly said, racking your gaze on his hair. "Thank you? Yours look fine." he says with a nod.

"Hey, Kuya Haru, I'm sorry if I'm being nosy but why do you wear a mask?" the question was whispered as if it's just meant for him to hear.

Maybe it's because of that fact that he's aware of your efforts for your brother. Maybe it's because he also notices your subtle flinches whenever someone raises their hand.

But Sanzu found himself a little comfortable around you. Maybe he could let loose and trust you despite knowing your existence just days ago.

"I have scars." he says, the word 'ugly' wanting to bubble its way out of his mouth to accompany the word 'scars' but he stops them, popping said bubbles. He doesn't need you to know about his insecurities.

"Oh." he hears you say while nodding. "I have scars, too." you whisper to him and he knows that it's just a secret between you and him.

For now.

"Can I see them?" you gesture towards his face, smiling softly even though you're biting the inside of your cheek, afraid that you're stepping over a line.

However, Sanzu hooks his fingers on his mask and pulls it down for you to see.

You stare at two diamonds staring back at you that you didn't notice seconds had passed and your silence made Sanzu fidgety, opting to put his mask back on which pulled you out of your trance.

"I'm-I'm sorry for staring and I know this might sound insensitive or-or something along the line but they're so…mesmerising. You look so cool with them, Kuya."

Your voice was laced with genuine admiration that Sanzu doesn't know what to do with it. "Aren't they…scary?" he asked after a few seconds of silence. You blinked rapidly at him, frowning.

"In what way? They're diamonds! They're treasures! Treasures aren't scary." you pout, "they're beautiful." you added, seemingly so full of positive things at how your perspective of things is different from his.

Your brother who's observing you smiles at your pout, thinking about how you're still just a child. With a sigh, he gets back to his conversation with the others and lets you be.

Meanwhile, your words echo in Sanzu's mind.

"They're treasures. They're beautiful."

Never in his life did he think that way about his scars but your child-like innocence and your view about things was enough to calm his fear.

Why was he even feeling fear at the thought of you finding his scars ugly? At the thought of you being scared of him after seeing them?

Maybe it's because he, too, is longing for familial love. For acceptance from someone blood-related. And despite you not being one, you managed to give him what he was longing for.

Izana is lucky, he thinks. He has a little sister who did her everything just to meet him. A little sister so full of love despite the things that happened to her these past days.

While he had siblings; an older brother and a little sister who blamed him for every mistake and who was the cause of mistakes, respectively.

"Y/N, we're going." you hear your brother say and you nod, standing up from where you are beside Sanzu. "Thank you for showing your diamonds, Kuya Haru!" you say, waving goodbye at him.

Underneath the mask, he smiles, the phantom pain of his scars dulling.

"Kuya, do you know any job around here that accepts kids my age?" you questioned. You and your Kuya are currently walking through the streets with you clinging on to his arm.

"I don't and even if I do, why would I tell you?"

"Kuya, I just want to work."

"How funny." that made you pout, punching him with your free hand. "I'm serious!" you protest.

"You don't have to work, Y/N. What made you think I'll let you? Enrol in school instead." you contemplate his suggestion with how serious he sounded.

"You know what, I'll enrol you whether you like it or not."

"Hey! I'm still thinking! And besides, I can work instead to help wi-"

"None of that." When you look down, he sighs silently and stops walking, turning his body to you as much as he can because of you clinging to his arm.

"Y/N, I am aware that you got used to working and that you want to help with finances but let me tell you that I am more than capable enough to handle it. You don't have to sacrifice your youth for the both of us, yeah?" he softly says.

"And let you sacrifice yours, instead?" you pettily asked back. He just chuckles at your tone.

"What are you talking about? If my youth meant looking after you then it's not a sacrifice. I'm your brother, your Kuya, Y/N, don't forget that."

You're not sure when you started to cry but you just became aware of it when your brother chuckles and wipes your cheeks. "Well, aren't you a crybaby?" he teases.

"Shut up, Kuya." you whine, pushing him away despite you still clinging to his arm. He just hums, smiling. He knows he won when you sigh and he felt more victorious compared to when he and his gang won a battle.

You’re not sure how it came to this. All you know is that things escalated quickly and now you’re sitting in front of your brother who’s holding your hands, calming you down with his soft tone and shushes.

With apologies that’s not supposed to come out from his mouth because he did nothing wrong.

Again, it was just instinct.

The both of you were at the kitchen earlier, helping each other to cook. You briefly remember his instructions to get something from the fridge but for some reason, your hand decided to be clumsy and drop whatever you were holding.

Fear immediately made its way to you as you looked at your brother with pure horror in your eyes, his image becoming that of your mother, your memories playing with you. The next thing you know, you’re sitting on the ground, crying and shaking your head, apologies nonstop coming out of your mouth as you slink away from Izana.

His voice went static in your brain as you closed your eyes when he walked closely without hesitation and all of the sudden, you’re getting lifted up for a few seconds before you feel the soft mattress underneath you. Your trembling hands are now being cradled by rough yet soft ones.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay, bubs.” you hear him saying, thumb caressing the back of your hands. “Breathe with me, please. You’re doing great.” your breath stutters as you try to breathe with him but his encouragement did its wonders to help you calm down.

With your vision now clear, you realise it’s not your stepmother in front of you but your brother who’s looking at you with worry and love.

Without hesitation, you lunged yourself at him, hugging him tightly as you sob in his chest quietly. He lets you wet his clothes with your tears and snot, reassurance falling from his lips like waterfalls; nonstop.

After a while, you stop and comfortable silence drapes its own on the both of you. “Take your time. We can talk about it like this.” you knew it’s him softly demanding you to tell him about everything. Days have passed with you flinching now and then and he’s nothing but patient with you.

With a shaky breath, you start your story.

Izana sat there with you in his arms, closing his eyes now and then to calm himself from the rage bubbling in him. He wants to go to the Philippines and commit another murder but he has you now and he doesn’t want you to be alone once again.

When you finish, he squeezes you and kisses the crown of your head. “You did so great holding on. Thank you for holding on. As selfish as it sounds, I’m happy you endured all of that and looked for me.” he sounded like he’s about to cry but you didn’t look at him to confirm.

“Kuya became my purpose and reason for living after I heard that you exist…” you confess. He was rendered speechless. While he was busy planning to take away someone’s purpose and reason, someone’s sanity and light, you were out there making him your raison d'etre.

Indeed, he’s too lucky and never in his life did he felt so grateful to the world for giving him this life other than this moment.

He knows you still have a long way to get over your traumas but he promises that he’ll be there along the way, holding you tight against the safety of his arms.

He had been a big brother to people who were not his real siblings. But right now, he’s a big brother once again. This time, to a blood-related sister.

More importantly, he’s your big brother.

He could never ask for more.

The door to his apartment opens, causing Izana to whip his head in its direction. A smile made its way to his lips, ignoring his friends' greeting to you as he looked at you fondly. You were smiling widely back at him with all your glory, your school uniform adoring you as he waits patiently for the phrase he’s always looking forward to hear,

“Kuya, I’m here!”

A/N: I ain't putting "the end" because i'm sure i'll still add headcanons for this but at the same time, this is kinda the "ending" of this series! thank you so much for reading :'>

@bontensbabygirl

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers platonic #tokyo revengers spoiler #kurokawa izana x sister reader #kurokawa izana x y/n #haitani brothers #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #xiefuyu's

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