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piedinthepiper · 10 months

Text

You owe me ☆

Mafia!Jungkook x psychologist!reader

Summary: It’s your job to help people, but is he really suffering? At least it’s a case of the crazy and obsessive syndrome.

Warnings: yandere!Jungkook, dub con, guilt tripping, description of murder and crime, mention of stalking, cursing, weapons (one singular gun), mention of male masturbation, descriptive smut, probably wrong use of psychological terms (oopsie)

Wc: 6.9k

A/n: This is my first post on my bts fic blog! If you like it please show your support! Don’t be a silent reader! My requests are open, share your ideas!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I am not a licensed psychologist! Everything related to psychology in this fic is off Google, do not use this to diagnose yourself or anyone else!

Parts: | 1 | 2 |

He clutched the gun close to his chest. Hiding it under his pyjamas. His fathers words ringing in the back of his mind. “Your brother is too soft for this industry, but you son, you’re my perfect descendant.”

He walked into his family’s suite. It was dark, except for one light in the living room. His mother sat there head propped up on her hand reading a book.

“What are you doing up so late, baby?”

She asked, putting the book down in her lap and taking off her reading glasses. He looked over at the white sofa placed next to the large windows. His brother was sleeping there peacefully. Not aware of his presence.

“I let your brother sleep in the living room tonight. His nightmares have returned.”

She continued when he didn’t answer her. He slowly turned his eyes towards his mother again.

“Weak.”

He answered lowly. Her look turned concerned.

“Is something wrong, baby?

His eyes continued to stare at her. He didn’t move a muscle, not yet.

“You know I don’t like it when you look at me like that.”

She continued when he yet again didn’t answer. There was a sturdiness to her voice now. The kind of sturdiness mothers have before scolding you. He started smiling. Not in a sweet innocent way. Not in the way 11 year olds should. But in a sinister and dark way. His hand moved out of his pyjamas top. She looked at the object in his hand.

“Drop that gun right now, Jungkook!”

A scream. Three shots. And silence.

15 years later

“Your patient is here.”

Your assistant, Erin, said through the slightly ajar door to your office. You looked up from your lunch. Quickly glancing over at the stationary computer to check the time.

“I don’t have an appointment. Not in another thirty minutes.”

Erin looked back to the waiting room before slowly stepping inside the office. Closing the door quietly behind her. She walked closer to you.

“He’s been sitting here for an hour already. I told him his appointment wasn’t until 1 pm. He just said ‘I know’ and sat down.”

She hurriedly whispered afraid of whoever was sitting out there.

“Please, Erin. Don’t act like he’s crazy. Send him in, I’ll eat later.”

She gave you a look before holding up two fingers. The signal that the two of you created. Working as a psychologist you meet with all sorts of people. Even criminals. The signal signalised that she would call the police if you hit the button that called directly to the front desk.

“Stop it, there will be no need to call the police. He’s harmless.”

“If you say so.”

She shrugged and walked out the door. The next time it opened a familiar figure entered.

“Good afternoon, Doctor.”

“You’re early Mr. Jeon.”

You had been treating Jungkook Jeon for a little over a month now. And you had come to the conclusion that he had PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. After he had witnessed a series of murders and crimes during his childhood. He was vague about the past, but a few things came out here and there. You only knew about his absent father and that his brother and mother had both been killed. No description of how or when. Which is common at first. It’s hard to re-live your trauma.

“I’m sorry I disturbed your lunch. Just eat, I don’t mind.”

He said as he sat down in the white sofa across your desk. You gave him a small smile as you reached into your drawer.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll eat after our session.”

You said as you fished his file up and opened it on you desk. You quickly read your notes from the last session as you continued talking.

“How are you doing? Still having nightmares?”

You looked up from the file maintaining eye contact as he answered your question.

“Sometimes, but not as often as before. I dream of you instead now.”

His eyes never left yours as he bit his lip, playing with his piercing he had there. You nodded.

“How often do you dream about me? And what are the dreams about?”

You asked as you scribbled it down in your notes.

“Every now and then they occur. Especially after our sessions. Or after I read your books. You’re a good writer Dr. y/l/n.”

He started smiling. His smile wasn’t sweet, it was different from how he had smiled at you before.

“As for what they’re about, I don’t think you’d want to know, Doctor.”

You tried concealing your confusion at his last statement. Curiosity taking over you.

“Dreaming about people you frequently surround yourself with is not uncommon. If you don’t like to talk about it we don’t have to. I would just like to know if they’re good or bad dreams.”

He nodded, still not breaking his smile nor the eye contact.

“Oh they’re good, Doctor. Don’t worry.”

You smiled back at him.

“That’s good to know. I’m glad to hear your nightmares are slowly being changed with good dreams.”

It went silent for a moment as you wrote down the good news. When you looked up again he wasn’t looking at you anymore, and for some reason you felt relived. His eyes were big and doe like, and when they focused on you for too long you would sometimes feel uneasy. You wondered so what those eyes had experiences in the past.

“What about your sudden outbreaks, are you able to control your anger better?”

He focused on you again the second he heard your voice. His smile returned.

“Sort of, I’ve been letting out the aggression in the gym, after you adviced me to try to stay active. I’ve started boxing.”

You smiled and nodded, writing down boxing in your notes.

“That’s good to hear. It seems that you’re getting better Mr. Jeon, much b-“

“Jungkook, call me Jungkook.”

He interrupted. You stopped and looked at him for a second.

“And no, I’m not cured. I still need you.”

You slowly nodded.

“Well there is no cure for your diagnosis, it’s a matter of being at peace with living with it. But I can understand that you still have things you would want to talk about. Maybe you would like to open up to me about your past?”

The room grew quiet. His eyes now focused on his hands in his lap. His demeanour changed completely.

“I have told you about my past. If I didn’t you wouldn’t have been able to diagnose me in the first place.”

He answered with a bit of underlaying annoyance. You sighed. Something felt off, but you couldn’t figure out what.

“You have told me some parts yes. If you want to go more in detail you can, I’m not forcing you. As your psychologist I would advise talking about it with me. It could be nice to have an outsiders perspective.”

You said in a soft tone. Trying to get your point across at the same time as being gentle. You didn’t want him to feel pressured or as if he had to say anything. When he didn’t open his mouth you understood you crossed his personal line of what he feels fit for you to know. You spoke after almost a minute with silence.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to. You can think about-“

“You’re a smart one.”

He interrupted you again. His eyes raised to meet yours.

“That’s why I like you. You know to some extent what is going on inside my head. I could never do that. I never know what is going on inside your head. If you think I’m weak or even crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy nor weak. It’s not your job to know what is going on inside my head. But it is my job to know what’s going on inside yours.”

He nodded before patting the sofa seat beside him.

“Come here.”

He simply said. You don’t know why, but you had a bad feeling in your stomach. He was acting differently today, compared to other sessions. Either way you got up from your chair, knowing that doing what he said would get you an insight of what you wanted to know. You slowly walked around your desk and sat down in the small sofa next to him. You crossed your legs trying your best not to get too close to him, but he seemed to man spread even more. Making your thighs touch. You placed your notebook in your lap, ready to write down exactly what he told you. He took a hold of your wrist.

“You’re not writing this down, Doctor. I need your full attention.”

It was the first time he had touched you, beside the first time you met when you shook hands. It made you think that you usually never have any sort of physical contact with your patients. Maybe that’s exactly what they need. What he needs to open up to you. You put your notebook down, and continued holding his hand. He looked down at your hands intertwining. Your smooth small hand was a sharp contrast to his bigger tattooed one.

“Tell me whatever you feel comfortable with telling me.”

You said to get his attention back to reality. He went quiet for a few seconds.

“I grew up in a hotel. It was a nice hotel, four stars, good breakfast. My father was almost never home, I didn’t mind though. I had my mother and my brother there. It was perfect in the beginning.”

He stopped. You looked down at his hand, it was shaking. You started drawing small circles at the back of his hand. Trying to calm him down. He looked down at your hands again.

“One night when I was sleeping I was woken up by a loud bang. The door to our home was broken down. A man entered and started shooting. My brother was still sleeping on the sofa and died instantly. My mother reached her gun and shot the man in the shoulder.”

He looked into your eyes.

“But he shot her in the head.”

You nodded, looking down at the floor. You knew he was looking at you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes in that moment.

“Did you find out who that man was? Why he would do such a thing.”

He went quiet again at your question. His grip on your hand tightened, as if what he was going to say would make you pull away.

“He was a mobster. Like my father. After the incident he trained me as the next leader of his group. I was 11.”

You looked at him. His childhood was worse than you thought, but he wasn’t saying all this as if it was a traumatic experience. It seemed like he was bragging about it. You would have to go through your notes and his file after work to see if there was something you were missing about him. You couldn’t jump to conclusions just yet.

“Thank you for telling me.”

You smiled at him. He looked back at you with those big eyes. You looked at the watch on your wrist. The session was over.

“Look at the time.”

You were about to let go of his hand to get up from the sofa. But he grabbed you harder. Forcing you to sit still.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon. But our session is over-“

“I’ve told you to call me Jungkook.”

“Jungkook, I have other patients today as well. We can continue this next week.”

You tried to assure him. He still didn’t let go.

“I’ve never told anyone about this, and you decide to end the session this quickly?”

You grabbed his hand with your other hand as well.

“You know I usually don’t end sessions like this. But I can’t let my other patients wait. You’re free to sit in the waiting room for as long as you want to.”

He frowned at your comment, but relaxed his hand nonetheless. You got off the sofa and walked to your desk again. Before you could say anything else he got up from the sofa and hastily walked out the door. Slamming it shut behind him.

You had two more patients that day. You waved goodbye to your last patient of the day, a young girl named Olive Thomson who was suffering from severe anxiety, as she walked through the door. You got up from your chair and collected your things. You turned off the computer and the light. You made sure to lock the door as you always do. The only thing you had to do now was say goodbye to Erin by the front desk, and you could go home. You walked into the waiting room.

“Finally.”

You turned to find the owner of the voice, as it was clearly not Erin’s.

“Mr. Jeon what are you doing here?”

You asked as you looked at the man seated in one of the waiting chairs.

“I told him he had to leave, I promise.”

You heard Erin whisper behind you.

“You said I could sit here for as long as I wanted to, Doctor. And please, just call me Jungkook.”

He was clearly upset. You remembered your words from earlier, but you didn’t think he would spend almost four hours just sitting there.

“I did, you’re right. I’m leaving now, Erin will be here for another two hours. But after that we’re closed.”

He got up from the chair.

“I was waiting for you.”

He simply said.

“I’m sorry our session ended so brutally, but I promise we’ll talk about it next week.”

You said and patted his shoulder as you walked past him towards the exit.

“Goodbye, Erin!”

You said as you made your way outside. The wind was cold and you clutched your coat closer to you as you walked towards your car.

“The least you can do is eat with me.”

He had followed you outside. You turned to look at him.

“I’m not that hungry, I just want to go home.”

You was going to open your car door, but his hand suddenly blocked the door. You were about to cuss him out. Tired of his antics.

“You haven’t eaten all day, I hardly doubt that one bite you had for lunch filled you up.”

He sounded threatening, something he had started to do recently.

“I just want to hear your thoughts on what I said. Don’t you think you owe me that? Or do I have to wait a week and dread finding out your opinion of me?”

He was desperate, you could see it. What he was saying was true. He would walk around overthinking for the next week and his health could worsen. You had to take action according to your diagnosis.

“Ok, I’ll eat with you.”

The two of you were sitting at some restaurant. The lights were low and to everyone around you, the two of you looked like a couple on a date. This was obviously not something you would do with your patients, you like to keep things professional. Something about this whole situation felt anything but professional.

“Get whatever you want, my treat.”

He said deeply focused on the menu. You shook your head.

“No thank you, I can pay for my own food.”

You answered.

“I’m the one responsible for you not being able to eat your lunch right? You owe me this meeting and I owe you food. Two birds with one stone.”

You sighed when you didn’t have a rebuttal. The two of you ordered, and the silence grew more and more awkward.

“I’m sorry again, Mr. Jeon I’m-“

“Jungkook. Please y/n! Just call me Jungkook!”

He was clearly upset now. You were a bit taken aback from the sudden use of your first name. He had never called you by your first name before. And the feeling of the professionalism fading away became more apparent.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to remember your request.”

“Say it. Say my name.”

For some reason you didn’t feel like you had it in you. It felt so strange to call a patient by their name, the same way it felt weird to be called your name by a patient.

“Jungkook.”

You managed to get it out, but you couldn’t look him in the eye saying it. The food luckily came quickly, you were starving. Plus it saved you from whatever he was going to answer. You decided to take the lead. Wanting to stay on track for the actual reason you said yes to join him.

“You said your father was a mobster. Do you know if he’s still living that lifestyle? Do you have any contact with him?”

You asked after taking a big bite of your pasta. Jungkook swallowed before answering your question.

“My father is dead. He’s been dead for 7 years now.”

A question came to mind, but you didn’t know if you dared ask him. You remember he said his father trained him to the life of crime at a young age. For him to take over his fathers legacy. With his father gone he would be next in line to whatever group his father had built. He got the image. Tattoos, piercings, the black clothes. But you couldn’t imagine him being a mafia boss. Maybe it was some sort of stereotype that strong, tough men don’t go to the psychologist. But you were starting to rethink his intentions.

“You’re thinking about something.”

You looked up from your food. He was staring at you.

“Look at you, you do have the ability to understand my mind.”

You said lightheartedly. He chuckled.

“I think you’re brave. Not many people survive the kind of neglect and trauma you’ve experienced in your childhood.”

You said, trying to give him an answer for his entire life story. He nodded and suddenly reached for your hand across the table. You jumped, but didn’t remove your hand. You didn’t want to make a scene with this many people around.

“I’m fine, y/n. I think the only cure I need is you.”

His statement combined with his eyes staring into your soul, gave you chills down your back. Something was off about him. You had to ask. You just had to.

“When your father died, did you…?”

He smiled. The same sinister smile he smiled at you earlier that day.

“I did. I took over his legacy. Me and my father were actually great friends the years before he died. Not that I cared for him. I don’t think I’ve ever cared for anyone in my entire life.”

Another shot of chills froze your body at his statement. You had overlooked it this entire time. His calm demeanour, his tendency to physically violence, his intelligence and charisma and now his lack of empathy. He didn’t suffer from PTSD, he had been lying this entire time.

“At least not until I met you.”

He interrupted your thoughts. You pulled your hand out of his quickly. You took a deep breath trying to compose yourself.

“That’s nonsense. You must’ve cared for your mother.”

He shrugged.

“Not really, she wasn’t exactly the best mother.”

“You don’t really have those nightmares do you?”

You asked, looking at him. It took him a few seconds to answer. Probably contemplating if he should continue his lies or tell the truth.

“I don’t.”

“You didn’t really have a problem with your mother or brother dying either right?”

He let out a small laugh.

“I just told you.”

“Just answer me.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek and leaned forward onto the table.

“What is this? Are you trying to diagnose me, Doctor?”

He said mockingly.

“Answer me.”

You commanded. He sighed and started smiling at you again.

“Everyone has to die at some point. Doesn’t matter when or how.”

You nodded. Your instinct was true.

“You don’t have PTSD, you have ASPD.”

He licked his lips and cocked his head.

“And what does that mean, Doctor?”

“You’re a sociopath.”

He looked taken aback from your bluntness for a second. He probably wasn’t expecting you to crack his code.

“You’ve lied this entire time for your own personal gain. I must admit your acting was really good. But my question is, what do you want?”

He was quiet for a second. You knew he was fighting a war on the inside.

“I really underestimated you y/n. I knew you were smart, but personally I don’t think PhDs make a person smart by default. You’ve really proven yourself to me.”

“My efforts were not made to impress you. You think too highly of yourself Mr. Jeon.”

His gaze switched, you had aggravated him. Not only by calling him by his last name, but by attacking his self image.

“Why don’t you come home with me, we can continue our conversation there.”

You shook your head, and arranged the cutlery neatly by the side of your half empty plate.

“I do not go home with patients, and I definitely do not go home with mobsters. You have already challenged my professionalism by taking me out to eat.”

He smirked.

“What if I stop being your patient? In all honesty I don’t really need your advice, Doctor.”

You grabbed your bag and got up from your seat.

“In all honesty I think you do. We will continue this conversation in my office next week. Good night Mr. Jeon.”

With that you walked away from the table. Not looking back.

The next few days you were on edge. Constantly overthinking everything that had happened that day with Jungkook. You almost wanted to call in sick. Terrified of what would happen next. But regardless of that you had to continue working. You couldn’t let your other patients get affected by whatever was going on with you. You said goodbye to Mrs. Humphrey. An elderly woman that had fallen into depression after her husband had passed. Once the door closed you fetched your lunch out of your bag. You didn’t feel like eating, but you knew you had to. If not your energy would be drained at the end of the day. After the first bite you started hearing noises outside. Erin was almost yelling outside your door. You stood up, wanting to investigate what the commotion was. Before you could take one step the door swung open. And there he stood, your nightmare for the last couple of days.

“I told him you were busy, Dr. y/l/n! I told him he couldn’t enter!”

Erin said hopelessly behind him. He was soaking wet from the rain. His hair plastered itself to his forehead. And his black shirt did the same to his abdomen. He didn’t move, he was just staring at you with a furious look in his eyes.

“It’s fine, Erin. I’ll handle this.”

Erin looked at Jungkook worriedly before looking back to you. She held up two fingers. You nodded, and she left.

“Sit.”

You said, as you yourself sat down behind your desk. He closed the door behind him, but didn’t sit down. He continued to lure near the door.

“You interrupt my lunch again, I don’t want this to become a habit.”

“Please, spear me the bullshit.”

He said, and you went quiet. Wanting him to say whatever he came here for.

“How did you do it?”

He said after some time. You looked confused at him. Not understanding what he was referring to.

“Did what?”

You asked in almost a sharp tone. You were annoyed. He let out a small laugh, it almost sounded like a sneer.

“You’re cute when you’re angry with me.”

He started slowly walking towards you.

“But I need to know how you did it, y/n.”

He stopped once he reached the end of your desk. You looked up at him.

“What did I do?”

You ask again. He puts his palms on the table and lean closer to you. You don’t move, trying to prove to him and yourself that you’re not scared.

“You figured out a side of me I never understood I had. If I, the person that’s bearing this disease didn’t know. How come you knew?”

You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms. He was clearly distressed. Maybe even more than what you had been for the last days. And for some reason it pleased you.

“I told you, this is what I do. This is my job.”

You could tell he was conflicted in what to do next. You could practically see the way the wheels were turning inside his head. But eventually he sat down.

“I studied the human mind for six years to be able to understand things not even you are aware of.”

He scowled at you as you talked to him in a harsh tone.

“I’ve done research, and I’ve written books about this, that you have read may I add. What made you think that I wasn’t capable?”

He didn’t answer. The two of you just stared at each other.

“This is not a session, I demand answers, Jungkook.”

His eyes lit up when he heard his name fall off your tongue.

“Like I said, I underestimated you.”

He answered short.

“You didn’t answer my other question.”

You stated. He looked confused at you.

“The question from the other night. What do you want?”

He started laughing. You did not find it funny, and watched him as his fit of laughter died down.

“Y/n, you can’t be serious! You’re telling me that you were able to diagnose me with some bullshit, while I was pretending to be something else. But you’re not able to see the fact that I want you.”

The room got quiet. For the first time in a long time you felt completely speechless. He moved to get up from the sofa, but stopped the second he saw you roll your chair further away from him. He could tell you were afraid now, there was no point in acting tough.

“Come here.”

He said with a smirk and patted his thigh this time. There was still fight in you though.

“You’re disgusting.”

You uttered. He sneered at your comment.

“You’ve exploited me for your own satisfaction this entire time.”

You looked strictly at him, as he sighed.

“What was I supposed to do? You’re constantly on my mind. Day and night. And it’s awful!”

“That’s called an obsession.”

“I know what it’s called!”

He bit back. You went quiet, waiting for him to give you more information.

“The only way I can get a break is after i come to the thought of you. It usually takes around three times until I’m too tired to think of you.”

You couldn’t hide your disgust from your facial expression anymore. Looking at him as if he was a rat on the street.

“And then I thought if that helps, the real deal would help even more.”

He got up from the sofa now. You stayed seated, your hand slowly moving across your desk towards the telephone.

“I need you, y/n.”

You broke eye contact and looked down to hit the right number for the front desk. Jungkook quickly understood what happened and pushed the stationary phone off the desk. It fell to the floor with a bang, breaking it on impact. You got up quickly, wanting to distance yourself from him.

“How did you know? About the phone, about me. We never met before our sessions. Why? I don’t understand.”

You blurted out in pure stress of the situation. He smiled as he started walking towards the side of the desk. You walked the other way, wanting to keep the desk between the two of you. He chuckled.

“You’re cute when you’re confused too.”

You continued walking backwards. Trying to keep as much distance from him, while he tries to close it.

“I’ve followed you for a long time, baby. A very long time.”

The two of you had walked an entire round around the desk now. He jumped down onto the sofa again. His hand gracing the sofa cushions beside him.

“Do you want to know the full story?”

You knew what he was hinting at. Your entire body was screaming not to get anywhere near him. But you needed to know. He didn’t have anything to hold back now, you were certain he would tell you the truth. So you walked towards the sofa, carefully sitting down beside him. You took a second to compose yourself before looking at him. Signalising that’s you were ready. He smiled.

“I have known you since we both were children. Your father was my brothers shrink. He´s the one that had PTSD. I saw you for the first time in the hotel lobby after your father had finished his session with my brother. You were maybe 6 and sat there for so long, waiting for your father to return. When I saw you, I knew we were meant to be. We were soulmates. And for the first time in my life I felt something for someone.”

He grabbed your hand. You quickly out of reflex tried to wiggle yourself out of his grip. He tugged your hand harshly towards him and your entire upper body followed. Without your hand to catch you, you fell straight into his chest. His other hand sneaked around your waist as you composed yourself.

“Let me go.”

You said annoyed, placing your hand on his chest to keep a distance.

“If you want to hear the rest, you have to play by my rules, baby.”

His eyes focused on your lips as he whispered to you. You shook your head.

“I don’t need to know the rest. I can make out the sob story on my own. Boy falls in love, boy doesn’t get girl.”

He shook his head and let go of your waist. You quickly sat back up, brushing off imaginary dust from your lap.

“You should show me some respect.”

He said with a serious tone. You rolled your eyes and crossed your eyebrows.

“I’m not scared of you.”

He chuckled at your comment, placing his hand around the back of the sofa.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me either. I just think that you should show the man you owe your life to some respect.”

He touched your shoulder, drawing small circles on your jumper.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

He smirked.

“Oh, but you do. I made you the person you are today. Without me you wouldn’t be here.”

You sighed tiredly at him.

“You’re unbelievable.”

You got up from your seat and walked back to your desk. Starting to pack up your stuff. You were so done with him. He needed help, but you would no longer treat him. You decided as much.

“I need to get out of here, if you’re not gone when I’m back I’ll call the police.”

You put your bag over your shoulder, ready to walk away.

“How did you get into Yale, Doctor?”

He asked out of the blue. You stopped in your tracks.

“What? Why?”

He shrugged.

“Just seems so weird that someone with your grades would be able to attend any Ivy League school. Don’t you agree?”

You went quiet. Not knowing where he wanted this conversation to go.

“And don’t you think it’s weird how you always got A’s even when you were out partying instead of studying?”

You thought back to the years when you were studying. You originally did only apply to Yale just because your father went there. You didn’t think you actually was going to make it, because your grades were mediocre.

“What are you saying?”

“You have no idea how many people I had to blackmail to get you there. How many men I had follow you constantly. How many professors I had to bribe to make them give you a good grade. I’ve spent millions on you, y/n!”

Your mind was racing. You didn’t understand anything. Was your entire life a lie?

“I have to give it to you. Your first book made it without my help. But when you came out with your second book, and it wasn’t a success right away. I bought almost half the copies and payed a hefty amount of money to make it a New York Times best seller.”

You dropped your bag in awe. What he was saying made a lot of sense. You started rethinking every significant moment in your life. Wondering if he was behind it all. He got up from his seat and started moving towards you. But this time you didn’t step back. You let him come close to you.

“I’ve done so much for you, baby. Why are you so ungrateful?”

You looked up at him. He was now standing right in front of you. So close that you could almost feel his breath on your skin.

“I didn’t ask you to do any of this. You can’t keep me in debt for something I-“

You struggled with continuing the sentence. The reality of his words hit you, and your tears threatened to spill.

“It’s ok, baby. I’m not asking for much, considering what I’ve given you.”

He whispered calmly. His hands found your waist. He took one step closer to you and placed his forehead against yours.

“All I want is you, right here on this sofa, showing me how grateful you are.”

You couldn’t hold your tears in anymore, letting them slowly drip down your cheeks. One of his hands abandoned your waist to wipe away the hot tears on your cheek. You looked into his eyes as he continued to hold your face.

“If I do it, will you leave me alone?”

His eyes focus on your lips and how close you were. He had never been this close to you.

“I can never leave you. You’re my soulmate.”

He simply answered. You looked down at the floor.

“Jungkook, you’re delusional. You have to stop.”

“How can I stop? Huh? You’re the only one that matters in my life!”

You continued looking at the floor, even when he pushed himself off you in his fit of rage.

“I fucking love you!”

You shook your head, looking up at him this time.

“You don’t love me! You don’t even know me! You’ve created this illusion in your head that we are meant to be, but we’re not!”

You yelled back at him angrily.

“You’ve interfered in my life when I didn’t ask you to! You don’t have the right to do that!”

“And where would you be without me?”

He argued back.

“You act like you don’t care! But you know that without my help you wouldn’t be anything. You would’ve been a nobody.”

His words stung. What he was saying was the truth. The hard truth. You would have never made it to college. Never gotten this job. Never been a successful author. Never followed in your fathers footsteps and made him proud. You heard Jungkook sigh.

“I’m sorry baby, but it’s the truth.”

He said dejectedly. You took a deep breath. Realising what you had to do.

“I’ll do it.”

You simply said and met his eyes.

“I’ll have sex with you once, but after this I need you to stop.”

“Baby-“

“Listen to me! I’ll find you another psychologist. I want you to go to there and get help. When your treatment is over-“

You stopped for a second. Contemplating if you wanted to commit to the promise you were about to make.

“I’ll meet you again. To talk. I can’t promise you more than that.”

His eyes lit up and he swiftly lifted you in a hug. Letting out small sounds of excitement and shaking you around a little. You couldn’t help but smile at his boyish action. After a moment he put you down again, but continued to hold your waist.

“I’ll do whatever you say, baby. I’ll do anything for you.”

Your hands found his strong chest. You kept the eye contact, but your eyes couldn’t help but flick down to his lips for a split second. And that’s all he needed to kiss you. It started slow, but quickly got hotter. Your hands slid around his neck, unconsciously pulling him deeper into the kiss. He stepped backwards. You were taken aback by the sudden movement, but followed his lead. He guided the two of you to the sofa. The same sofa he had sat in every time he came to your sessions. He broke the kiss to jump down on the sofa. He looked up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. He had been waiting for this for many years, and finally he had you. He reached out for you as you straddled his lap, feeling his already hard cock between the fabric of your trousers. His hands moved down to your ass. Grabbing it the second he had a chance, and letting out a satisfied groan. You reached down to the hem of your top and pulled it off.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

He said with half lidded eyes as he watched your bare skin. You smirked at his comment and reached for his shirt as well. He lifted his back off the sofa to help you get it off. Once it was off you started examining his tattoos. Tracing his arm with your finger all the way up to his shoulder. You stopped once you saw the little circular scar. Your entire body froze as you remembered his words from your last session. “My mother reached her gun and shot the man in the shoulder. But he shot her in the head.”. He looked at you confused for a second, before he looked at his shoulder where your eyes were glued. He understood what you were thinking.

“You killed your family.”

You said and looked back at him. He was already shaking his head.

“The man was you. You killed them.”

You tried to get up from his lap, suddenly scared of the killer you were straddling. But he held you down with a strong grip.

“Baby calm down, let me explain.”

You continued to struggle. Not listening to his words.

“Y/n!”

He suddenly screamed. Getting your attention. He sighed.

“I didn’t kill them.”

“I don’t fucking believe you.”

You started struggling again, now hitting his chest as well. He quickly flipped the two of you. Pushing you down onto the sofa with his own body weight. Holding your wrists harshly.

“So what if I killed them? It doesn’t take away from the fact that you still owe me this!”

He looked dangerous on top of you like that. A single tear fell down the side of your cheek. He was right yet again. He kissed you tenderly. It was a sharp contrast to the tone in his voice.

“You still owe me your body.”

He started kissing down your neck. Eagerly taking one of your boobs in his hand. His crotch grinded against you for a second before you heard him curse under his breath.

“I’ll have to taste you another time. I can’t fucking wait any longer to be inside you.”

He started working on your jeans. Ripping them off in a hasty speed together with your panties. He quickly loosened his belt and repeated the action on himself. His cock sprung free, but you weren’t able to look at it for more than a second before he lifted your legs over his shoulders and pushed into you. The two of you moaned in unison. He was big, but he took little to no time for you to adjust, as he started thrusting into you with brutal force.

“You’re so fucking tight.”

He moaned, stopping his motion to spit on your pussy. Using it as lubricant. He continued quickly after. Moans and heavy breathing filled your office as the two of you strived to reach your orgasms. He reached down and started rubbing your clit. Almost overstimulating you.

“I’ve waited for this for so long, baby. You feel better than I ever imagined.”

You felt a familiar knot building in your lower stomach. The rapid speed of his hands and the stretching of his cock making you come closer to release quicker than ever.

“I need to come inside you. I need to fill you up, baby.”

You nodded. Not knowing or caring what you said yes to. You were already on cloud nine and needed him to continue whatever he was doing.

“Say my name.”

You understood he was close, and you were too.

“Jungkook!”

You moaned as your orgasm washed over you. You legs clenched around him, and your hands found his arms. Digging your nails into his skin. He came the second he heard his name escape your mouth. He let you ride out your orgasm, before he fell on top of you. You felt his breath go back to normal as he nuzzled into your neck. The two of you laid there in serenity for a while. Just feeling each others heartbeats and listening to each others breathing.

He would do as you told him. He would go see someone. He would do whatever it took to have you like that again. He would never let you go. You owed him this after all.

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

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ellecdc · 6 months

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All's Fair in Love & Chaos

1st instalment ( II - III - IV)

a short blurb style mini-series in collaboration with @unstablereader no real plot, just vibes and comedy.

Synopsis: soulmate au, everyone's soulmate's initials become visible on their wrist when the last person in the bond 'comes of age' (I've left the age ambiguous because their may be mature insinuations later on in the story). As luck would have it, and much to everyone's horror; it appeared that you, Barty Crouch Junior, and Sirius Black were soulmates

poly!DeathStar x fem!reader

The day that every witch, wizard, and wix alike waited their whole life for finally came for Sirius Black; the day that their soulmate’s initials became visible on your wrist.

The mark becomes visible when the last person of your soulmate bond comes of age. For example, much to Lily’s chagrin, the initials J.F.P became visible on her wrist on March 27th, as did the initials L.J.E on James’ wrist.

Much to Sirius’ chagrin, on June 25th, the initials R.A.B became visible on Remus’ wrist, as did the initials R.J.L on Regulus’.

And so it went for the rest of his friends and classmates.

Except for poor Pete, whose wrist adorned the initials of someone who - after much research and triple-checking by all of their friends - clearly didn’t go to Hogwarts.

Sometimes, however, soulmate bonds took place between more than two people, and though it was possible for it to happen among all blood statuses, the odds were higher amongst Pureblood’s.

So when Sirius woke up this morning to a weird burning/itching feeling on his wrist, only to see not one, but two sets of initials, he was feeling pretty chuffed.

That dissolved very quickly, however.

“No…. nononononononono.” He muttered in agony as he saw two people approaching him; one looking almost as horrified as he did and one looking awfully sinister.

“Well, well, well.” Barty Crouch Junior drawled as he made his way to the Gryffindor table, dragging you over with him - seemingly without your consent – by your arm. “I thought it must have been a mistake when I woke up to find out I had a Son Of a Bitch as a soulmate, but alas; here you are.”

“This can’t be.” Sirius whispered disbelievingly, causing Barty to cackle maniacally.

“Oh, but it is.”

Any words that Sirius had died on his lips at the wheezing of his younger brother.

You, Barty, and Sirius all turned to see Regulus hanging from Remus’ shoulder as he clutched his stomach.

“I…I – oh Salazar, I think I finally believe in gods! All of them! Oh…” He stuttered in between fits of laughter.

Sirius looked between him and his supposed best mate, but Remus only looked at Regulus as if Regulus was his most beautiful when he was laughing at the expense of his brother.

Bastards; the both of them.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” James offered, his face clearly trying to smile though it took on a pained expression in comissery.

“Thank you…” You accepted timidly, eyes darting between the group of people you suddenly found yourself emmersed in.

“Now look what you’ve done, Black.” Barty sneered as if Sirius’ last name was a dirty word. “You’ve worried our poor girl.” He cooed as he pulled you tight into your side, causing you to squeak in surprise.

“I hardly think I’m the one worrying her.” Sirius sneered back.

Barty’s face turned stony. “Just what are you insinuating?”

“Uhm, that you’re certifiably insane?” Sirius responded simply.

“Oh, come now; Junior’s not that bad.” Remus tried to reason; his boyfriend still hanging limply off his shoulder as he tried (and failed) to repress his laughter.

“Not that bad?” Sirius screeched incredulously. “Did you not see what he did to Crawley?”

Peter snorted at that. “Mate, you literally did the same thing to Snape.”

“That was you?” Barty asked in surprise, looking Sirius up and down skeptically.

“Sure was.” James answered on his behalf.

“Huh.” Barty chuckled in thought. “That’s where I- never mind that. I only did that because he groped Y/N’s arse.”

Sirius felt his own face turn stony as he turned his attention to you. “Is this true?”

You seemed to pale at the attention. “Well…yes? But-”

“Ha ha. Black’s just as bad as me.” Barty sing-songed from beside you, looking at Sirius with a look of faux innocence.

Sirius heard a thump, and he looked over to see Remus looking behind the bench where Regulus had apparently fallen in his fit of laughter.

“I – I’ve died, yeah? I’m dead? Fuck, I must’ve done something right in my past life to be rewarded with this. Sirius is – is bonded to Barty Crouch Junior.” He howled with laughter, so uncharacteristic of the young, stoic Black.

“I am not!” Sirius argued petulantly. “I’m bonded to Y/N, Junior just…happens to be there.”

“If you’re only bonded to Y/N, why are my initials decorating your wrist, hm?” Barty asked salaciously, pulling Sirius’ wrist towards him to see the evidence for himself.

“Oh, sod off.” Sirius barked, shoving him aside and offering you an apologetic glance before storming towards the exit.

“Oi! Where are you going, future-Mr-Barty-Crouch-Junior!?” Barty taunted.

“To jump off the astronomy tower!” Sirius called back.

“Ou! We should go watch.” He said, turning to you before following Sirius out. “You should try to do a flip!”

“Oh, Y/N.” Lily cooed after the boys finally disappeared out of the Great Hall. “I’m so sorry.”

You let out a long-suffering sigh as your eyes stayed focused on the place where you last saw your two new soulmates. “If Regulus did something in a past life to be rewarded with this, I must have done something right horrid.”

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countlessmoviethoughts · 13 days

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// SPOILERS FOR KAOS ON NETFLIX //

One of my fav things about the series is how they don’t have all these monsters in the real world live you see in other media. Like ofc in the underworld they have Cerberus dogs (love you Fotis <33 ) and Medusa and others, but in the real world?

Polyphemus is a one eyed bar tender working at The Fates bar (I LAUGHED SO HARD WHEN THEY MADE THAT CONNECTION I MEAN HE WORKS IN A PLACE CALLED THE CAVE ITS SO FUNNY)

The Minotaur is Ari’s brother who’s been locked away from everyone resulting in extreme aggression

The Furies are a biker gang

I really hope they keep this theme up in future season, I want to see them reimagining more Greek legends/monsters like this (we are getting a second season, I’ll keep saying it till it happens)

I find it really creative and also (in cases like Ari’s brother) much more sinister and messed up than just placing the actual monster in the show.

#kaos netflix #kaos #netflix kaos #kaos spoilers #go watch KAOS rn It’s so so good

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deliciousangelfestival · 2 months

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I Hate It When You're Drunk - 5

Character: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Summary: A forbidden love between a princess and her bodyguard. They love each other deeply, but their relationship is threatened by the tyrant king's oppressive rule and their differing social statuses.

I Hate It When You're Drunk Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

His body was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. Bucky could hardly breathe as the king’s words cut through him like a sword against his neck. The sting of the blade pricking his skin was sharp, and a trickle of blood ran down to the sword’s edge.

“Because my daughter is fond of you, and I owed your father, you think I’d let you roam free?” Leonard pressed the sword against Bucky's neck, the blade pricking his skin until a small drop of blood trickled down.

The king saw the blood and smirked. He pushed Bucky away and wiped the blood off the blade.

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to gather his composure.

“How dare you and other rats try to demolish the monarchy,” Leonard sneered. “Kneel!”

Bucky immediately fell to his knees. “I cannot express how foolish I am, my king.”

The tyrant king scoffed. “So you still see me as your king?”

Bucky kept his gaze down. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Repeat the oath you swore to serve the kingdom,” Leonard commanded.

Bucky clenched his fist. “I, James Buchanan Barnes, as General of Veridian, swear my life to serve the kingdom and give my loyalty to King Leonard Damon II!”

“Say it again!” Leonard barked.

“I, James Buchanan Barnes, as General of Veridian, swear my life to serve the kingdom and give my loyalty to King Leonard Damon II!”

“Again!” Leonard’s voice thundered.

Each time Bucky repeated the oath, it felt like his pride and life were being trampled on. He could just take Leonard’s life right now, but if he did, he would be branded a traitor.

“You look pitiful, James,” Leonard chuckled.

Bucky’s feelings were a tumultuous storm of anger, shame, and helplessness. The humiliation burned in his chest, but he kept his expression stoic, knowing he couldn’t afford to show any weakness.

“I knew you were an idealistic person. Seeing you like this must be difficult for you.” Leonard shook his head.

“I take pride in the name of the tyrant king because of the sacrifices I made to get this throne,” Leonard said, his voice dripping with menace.

“And you?! A boy like you tried a coup d'etat?” His face contorted in fury, his eyes blazing with rage.

“I will take full responsibility, Your Majesty,” Bucky replied, his voice steady despite his fear.

“Don't worry, James. You will get the responsibility.” Leonard’s voice held a sinister note.

Bucky’s breath hitched at the tone of the tyrant king, as if Leonard had caught him in a snare. Bucky lifted his face to see Leonard’s expression, trying to read the king's intentions.

The tyrant king stood taller, dominating the room like a predator that had cornered its prey. “As we speak, my secret guard has captured your little group,” Leonard said, his voice dripping with malice.

“I will crush you, take everything you have, and turn you into an obedient lapdog for my daughter,” Leonard spat. His words were like venom, seeping into Bucky’s blood and poisoning his spirit.

Leonard leaned down, his eyes gleaming like a lion gazing at a helpless rabbit. “Do you know why I succeeded in taking the throne from my brother?”

Bucky stayed silent, but understanding dawned on him, and his heart sank.

“That’s right. There was a traitor among them who took my side. Same with you. There’s a traitor among your ranks.” Leonard’s smirk widened as he saw the realization hit Bucky.

Bucky felt trapped in a tornado, his mind whirling with the betrayal. Among his group, the strong brotherhood that shared the same goal, someone had turned against them. The thought was a knife twisting in his gut.

Leonard gave a strong pat on Bucky’s shoulder, his grip firm and condescending. “This is the last mercy you will receive from me. I let my only child marry you because that’s what she asked of me.” Leonard’s tone was a chilling reminder of the power he held over Bucky’s life.

The way Leonard spoke made it clear: Bucky was alive only because of you. He owed his life to you, and that debt weighed heavily on him.

👑👑👑👑👑

In another room, you are excitedly planning your dream wedding with the royal event planner. Your closest servants, who know this wedding is all you’ve ever wanted, join in with enthusiasm. The room buzzes with ideas and laughter, the air filled with joy and anticipation.

Suddenly, Bucky enters the room, his face pale and his movements tense.

“You leave us alone,” you order the servants, who quickly obey and exit the room.

You approach Bucky, touching his face gently. “Did my father do something?”

Bucky quickly grasps your hand and shakes his head, forcing a smile. “Well, it’s normal for a father to be stern, knowing his daughter will be taken away.”

His words hold some truth, but you can see there’s more to it. Your father must have said something to make Bucky this pale.

Just then, Marvin, the master of the household, enters the room, catching both you and Bucky off guard. “Forgive my rudeness, Your Highness,” he says with a bow, then heads to reach the TV remote.

The screen lights up with a news headline: “Group of Rebels Captured. The rebels were found in their hideouts. Veridian Intelligence successfully apprehended them. It was the king’s order to ensure the country’s safety.”

You gasp, “There’s a rebellion?” The news surprises you, but deep down, you understand the reason. Your father has wiped out all his enemies, but the problems persist.

Behind the smiles, compliments, and bows that you and the king receive, you know some of them harbor deep-seated hatred.

Beside you, Bucky clenches his fist, his knuckles white. His comrades have been captured, and the weight of guilt settles heavily on his shoulders. He feels the sting of betrayal, the pain of seeing those he fought alongside fall into the king’s trap.

“They haven’t done anything bad, yet,” you say, your voice trembling. You turn to Bucky, seeing the turmoil in his eyes.

“They were just trying to fight for what they believed in,” you continue, your voice soft but firm. “But I can’t condone violence either. There must be another way.”

Bucky looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and gratitude. In that moment, it was as if a breath of fresh air had swept through him. You understood him, and that understanding meant everything.

“I’ll tell the king not to impose a heavy punishment,” you said, turning off the TV and heading toward Leonard’s study. As you walked away, you felt Bucky’s hand gently grasp yours.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Not fully understanding the depth of his gratitude, you shrugged lightly. “I’ll see you later.” With that, you left, leaving Bucky alone in the room.

As the door closed behind you, Bucky's legs felt weak. He sank to his knees, the weight of his despair pressing him down. The room seemed to close in on him, a metaphorical cage of his own making. The echoes of his own thoughts reverberated in his mind like the clanging of bars, a relentless reminder of his entrapment.

His breathing was shallow, his chest tight with a mixture of anxiety and frustration. Bucky’s fingers trembled as he clutched the carpet, his knuckles white. The crushing reality of his situation settled over him, the hope he’d clung to now feeling like a distant dream.

He felt utterly isolated, trapped in a labyrinth of betrayal and duty. The warmth of your hand lingered on his skin, a fleeting reminder of the life he wished he could have—a life free from the tyranny he now faced.

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If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

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maybe-a-bi-witch · 10 months

Text

Mia's Fic Recs

One Piece, HotD, JJK,

One Piece

Zoro

Just a little longer by @sleepymarimo

One time where Zoro pushes your affections away and another time when he begrudgingly accepts them.

The one that (almost) got away by @loguetowns

it takes him 12 hours to realize

Baby, let the games begin by @irisintheafterglow

Reader is a pirate hunter who used to compete with Zoro, before he joined the Strawhat crew. They reunite after Zoro joined the crew.

Got me spinning like a ballerina by @mydearlybeloathed

zoro doesn't dance, but he has no issue in watching you twirl yourself off your feet. so long as you twirl back to him when your feet get tired.

Ultimatum by @undiscovered-horizon

Zoro hits you with a "fine, I'll be your boyfriend" when you try to break off your casual situationship

Shanks

Jolly Sailor Bold by @httpwintersoldier

your curse leads you to a certain red-haired pirate that ends up taking you hostage for the rest of your life. And you very much agree with the decision.

Sanji

Puzzled by @mynewblackdress

Due to your insecurities, you thought Sanji was making fun of you whenever he complimented you until you realized he wasn’t.

Go Fish! (series) by @honnelander

reader and Usopp are playing a card game when Sanji finds them. teasing ensues.

House of the Dragon

Aemond

Be Quiet by @youraverageaemondsimp

DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter!Reader

Duty, Sacrifice by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

Her and Aemond have always loved to play hide and seek, however, the night he returns from Storm's End, their game takes a much more sinister turn.

Catalyst by @oneeyedvisenya

Your job as Dr. Targaryen's lab assistant becomes far more hands on than you expected.

His Love by @valeskafics

When Aemond finds you after you ruin Aegon's coronation, he is in for a surprise.

To have and to hold by @lilibethwrites

Reader goes to Storm's End, and instead of claiming Lucerys's eye, he makes reader his wife.

Jujutsu Kaisen

Nanami Kento

Professor by @fairyhub

The Princess by @classyrbf

sometimes being a princess comes with strict rules and responsibilities so why not have a little fun with the man who was assigned to protect and defend you

Ex Husband Nanami by @classyrbf

Headcannons about ex husband Nanami

everything i was looking for by @awearywritersworld

when nanami became a salaryman, jujutsu wasn't the only thing he left behind. four years later, he's got his job back and he wants you back too.

Natural (series) by @justauthoring

you fit into their little family, perfectly - naturally.

Gojo Sataru

"do you like me?" "nope." by @awearywritersworld

even yuuji realizes that gojo has a crush on you, but you're oblivious as ever

I wanna show you off by @gojonanami

when you accompany your friends to a bar rich men and women frequent, you catch the eye of a certain white-haired rich

Is it over now? ft. Geto by @gojonanami

suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave -- for him and his best friend.

the cutest couple on the Internet by @osaemu

steamer!au - you flirt with his rival

Toji Fushigoro

stay as long as you need by @awearywritersworld

toji can't stop hanging around his new neighbor, even though she has a boyfriend. oh well, he knows he's better for her anyway.

Geto Suguru

One of your girls by @fairyhub

you can’t help your feelings for your brother’s best friend

Is it over now? ft. Geto by @gojonanami

suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave -- for him and his best friend.

Sukuna Ryomen

Men are so quick to blame the gods (series) by @awearywritersworld

your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night.

Death is no more by @rinhaler

you know you shouldn't be here, right? what would possess you to visit an underground fight club? one of the fighters is kinda cute though...

How you get the girl by @yuujispinkhair

He knows how ironic this is. He is Sukuna, the guy who is known to always wear a smug smirk on his tattoed face and have a snide remark ready at all times. And yet, when you stand in front of him and confess your feelings to him, he is at a total loss for what to do.

The brat and the child that comes with him by @mysicklove

Sukuna might not be the best older brother, but at least Yuuji doesnt seem to mind.

Lullaby for the past by @poe-daydreams

Best friends (older brother) Sukuna by @seeingivy

#one piece #opla x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #shanks x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fushigro x reader #fic rec #fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #hotd fanfic #sukuna ryomen x reader

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fraugwinska · 5 months

Note

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!

May I pretty please request Alastor’s wifey as like a Cheshire Cat?

Perhaps in her living life she led people to their deaths, as it’s sometimes interpreted as a guide. Then later on teamed up with Al and led victims to him?

I just like the idea of an unsettling smiley couple. That and Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez has been on loop in my brain LOL

Anonymous, you beautiful bastard. You waited so patiently, but I do think it's worth it... I couldn't stop writing this!!! I had so much fun, I cannot tell you. And I will revisit this pair soon, because I can't get over how AMAZING they are! <3 Edit 14-05-24: This will be a mini-series! :D Let's see how many parts we get out of this one!

TW: Graphic depitions of violence and murder, mention of war, gore Minors DNI - Mature content - Adults only!

"Mon amour, can we go out tonight?"

You pulled the last strand of hair from the curling iron, scanning your work for any messy imperfection. Alastor, engrossed in a book, looked up at you, matching your sinister smile with his curious one.

"Oh? Bored already, darling? We went to Mimzy's only yesterday."

"Not that, silly." You walked over to him, setting the hot curling iron on a cool section of his dresser. You sat down, straddling him. Your hands folded behind his back, leaning in.

"I was just thinking that our last game has been a while, hasn't it?"

His eyes widened a bit, smile curling a bit higher. He set the book down on the side table and wrapped his arms around you, long, sharp fingers pressing into your waist with excited anticipation. You tilted your head, looking up at him.

"Well, we have been awfully busy lately with the hotel. I suppose it's high time we should find something to reward us for all our hard work, my darling!"

You nodded, giggling, and rubbed your nose against your husband's. The two of you always got excited when your interests lined up and plans of your games became more elaborate. It was how you met, after all.

Not even two months after your fall, you were well established in the capitol of the pride ring. Quickly adapting to your feline form and with wit and a good heap of charisma you landed a job at the overlord Zestial's newspaper agency, working your way up quickly to editor. Hell wasn't a scary place for you, at all. The world you came from had been the real hell.

When the germans invaded France, you knew your little village in the Somme valley would be the first they would take, and then Paris would be next. Your brothers and father were already dead. You had heard of the horrors the german soldiers were bringing upon the women and children of the countries they captured, which made the will of protecting your sister and mother even stronger. But you had always been a fighter, and you possessed the most unusual but useful weapons a woman could possess: beauty, cleverness and ruthlessness.

They had been such easy victims - young soldiers, craving a good pussy after being away from home for so long - you seduced them with laughable ease and your signature smile and lured them into the woods, where you'd kill them, your smile never falling as your knife would hit the lifeless body again and again. Sometimes, you'd get so many killings in one night you had to burn the clothes you wore because the blood would've stained them through. They would all be thrown in the Somme, where they'd be swallowed by the waters, never to be seen again. You didn't even care what the punishment would be once the war was over. All you cared about was to avenge the lost and protect the remaining members of your family and if killing the enemy was the way, you'd do it gladly and with as much pleasure as you could. You had disposed of about 40 bodies in the river before they caught you, red handed, the knife still in your victims crotch. They had been too cowardly to shoot you then and there. Instead, they had dragged you back to the town, tied your hands behind your back and forced you to kneel in front of the town square, your mother and sister watching you along the horrified villagers, and you watched them, as they were made to witness them put a bullet straight through your heart.

"On se voit en enfer, putains de salauds."

And then, you woke up. In Hell, naked, confused, hungry, angry. But not scared. Never scared. You were still you. And your smile never faded.

A lot of people were too weirded out by the constant smile on your face, that's when you first heard of Alastor. The radio demon, rising star of hell's overlords. Everyone feared him, and his smile. You didn't, and that's what made him approach you when you saw him at a party you had been invited to by one of Zestial's acquaintances, Rosie.

He was drawn to your smile, just as much as you were drawn to his. When he spoke, your ears twitched in excitement, as if listening to the greatest song in the world. He was unbelievably interesting, charming up to a point where you couldn't help but feel drawn to him, and his voice - Oh, doux comme un ange et vif comme le diable. You didn't want to, didn't expect it at all, but your heart did a jump the moment his hand touched yours when he asked you to dance.

"Your smile never falters, darling. I can't help but wonder why?"

You giggled, a gloved hand covering your mouth as he turned you, crimson glowing eyes never leaving yours.

"I don't know, really. My papan used to tell me that it was the only thing I had going for me, and it's what made silly soliders so easy to kill."

You could feel the air around him tense and shift, his grin widening at your words as he turned you in again.

"Ah, a lady after my own heart. I can appreciate a woman who knows how to have fun."

You didn't say anything to his comment, just smiled, and he pulled you closer.

"Why don't we have a little fun of our own? I have the right mind for a little game, if you're up to it, darling?"

It took the both of you only a few more minutes to decide to leave the party. It was the night of your first game. Your first kill. And your first kiss. You loved to retell the story of how you two met to everyone who'd ask. You didn't mind, not even when they were uncomfortable. They weren't used to the idea of two people like you, the serial killers, finding love with each other that none of you sought out. It was a genuine love that was born in a way that could only happen in hell, and yet, you felt that it was the truest and best love you had ever felt. It was the first time in forever you could remember your cheeks actually hurt from smiling.

Alastor stood up, lifting you from his lap with an ease that was effortless to him, and twirled you around.

"Well, then, why don't we go paint the town red?"

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lowered you, placing a kiss on your nose.

"Red looks beautiful on both of us."

Dressed in your favourite dress, you and Alastor made your way into the city. You always had to keep from giggling when you saw the face of the other residents as they realized you weren't going out for a casual stroll, but for a game night. Especially the pricesses girlfriend made you want to burst out in laughter, her face scrunched into a mask of disdain and disgust. The two of you were always a sight, though. Alastor, looking as handsome as ever, the red suit and black dress shirt underneath complimenting his dark complexion and making his red eyes glow even brighter. And yourself, always a sight for sore eyes, in a black lace dress that accentuated your figure perfectly. People always stared at you when the two of you were out, and that was only part of the fun.

Alastor's hand held yours, his long, sharp nails scratching your skin, the both of you excited for the prospects of the night.

"Why don't you set the challenge today, mon chou?", you asked, looking up at him with a curious gaze, "I'd love to see what you come up with."

Alastor chuckled, pulling you closer to his side.

"Mh... let me think."

His hand was placed on his chin, his eyes closing as he hummed a tune, deep in thought.

"How about this? I'll give you a five minute head-start. You win if you bring them to kill themselves, before I catch them. If I catch them before they're dead, it's my win. That sound fair?"

You grinned, the thought of the game already getting you excited. You weren't nearly as strong as Alastor was, but so much more agile than him and with a few tricks up your sleeve - you had a feeling that this would be your night.

"More than fair, amour. As for my reward: If you lose, I get to decide what music we are listening to until our next game."

"Well, well, greedy now, aren't we, my little minx?"

His grin widened as he chuckled, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against yours.

"You know what my request is if you lose. It's a deal, then. And the stakes are high, I hope you know."

You smiled, your eyes closing as you brushed your lips against his, and purred.

"The higher the better."

***

Oh, how you loved the sound of panicked breathing. This cretin really had no stamina, only one minute in and he was panting, crawling in the alley you chased the scruffy doberman sinner after slashing his feet in the shattered glass and debris. You made yourself visible again in front of him, hidden in the shadows as just a grinning, magenta scheme.

"Aw, poor boy. What's the matter, baby?", you cooed, licking your claws as if nothing had happened. "You seem a little frightened. Don't you want to touch me anymore?"

The man didn't speak, just gasped, crawling backwards. You took a step forward, crouching down, your sharp, pearly teeth glistening in the neon light of the dim street lamp.

"No need to be scared, sweetheart, I'm a nice kitty. Come here, let me touch you."

You stretched out a claw, reaching for him as your limb elongated with bone-chilling cracks. He backed away, trying to get up. You giggled, the sound high pitched and eerie. You made yourself invisible again, shifting behind him and suppressing a giggle as he shuddered, looking frantically around him to search for your frame. Two minutes down.

"I thought you like pussy, baby?", you purred, making your voice come from his left ear. He screamed, and ran, his feet leaving blood stains on the concrete, limping, holding the wound on his leg. You laughed and let the lamps blow out one by one as he passed them, showering him with broken glass and hot metal wires. He didn't know it, but you were guiding him, right into a dead end. You heard the sounds of Alastor's microphone feedback somewhere further down the road, and grinned. You had three more minutes to play, and you knew you'd win.

You appeared before this pathetic excuse of a man, who had reached the dead end and was looking frantically around for a way out. Three minutes down, time to wrap it up.

"You're breaking my heart, sweetie. Don't you like to play with me anymore?"

"Fuck, I... p-please, don't... don't hurt m-me, I'm sorry... just let... let me go." The man was shaking, pressing his back against the wall. You licked your teeth, and took another step towards him, your hands on his shoulders, leaning in.

"Oh, I'm not gonna hurt you, baby. I'm just a drunken, helpless little kitty, remember?"

He whimpered, and you smiled, a sick, sinister smile that made him shiver even more. He slid down the wall that was blocking his way as you bent down, caressing his cheek. One minute to go.

"No, I'm not gonna kill you today. You'll do it yourself."

You reached inside your purse, taking out a small, golden pocket knife. His eyes widened as he watched you place the object next to his shaking form and you let yourself fade out of existence, except for your ever-lasting grin.

"See, if you're a good boy, you'll die fast and painless. If not..."

The man looked up at what remained of you, breathing heavily. His eyes were wide with fear, but his pupils dilated as he scanned the place, and a glimmer of hope rose inside him.

"Well, you'll find out what else in about fifteen seconds."

His trembling hand wrapped around the handle of the knife, his eyes still fixed on the spot where your figure had been. You leaned in again, whispering into his ear, the air of your breath hot on his skin.

“Tik, tok, little pup...”

With a desperate roar, the doberman whipped the knife forward, ready to stab where he supposed you were. And he would've been right. If not for...

"Too slow, darling."

The man's eyes widened, his breath stuck in his throat as his hand was stopped, the blade millimeters away from your flesh. The cold, bony grip of Alastor's claw around his wrist tightened, and the knife was slowly being pulled out of his shaking hand as you made yourself visible. He chuckled, the sound reverberating in his chest and the surrounding buildings, and stepped forward, looming over the trembling mess of a man.

"Well, well, well. Look at this sloppy attempt. What's the matter, boy? Cat got your tongue?"

Alastor's claw dug deeper into his flesh, a pool of blood forming under the hand Alastor still had in his iron grip. His other hand reached out, grabbing the man's throat and lifting him up the wall. You joined his side, watching the horrified expression on the sinners face with a tilted head as you nestled into him, a slight pout on your lips.

"Aww, you're no fun, amour. I was so close to winning, too. What a shame."

Alastor's arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as he chuckled, squeezing the sinners neck a bit tighter. The man was gasping for air, his face turning red and his eyes starting to roll back into his skull. "Rules are rules, darling. I believe we said five minutes. That means the game is mine."

You sighed, your head leaning against Alastor's shoulder.

"C'est dommage, I was longing to listen to a little Presley again."

"Maybe next time, my love."

He leaned over to steal a kiss from your lips and you closed your eyes, not seeing but hearing the scream and the sound of ripping skin and muscles, the gurgling splatter of blood and the buzzing of your husbands static.

Oh, comme j'aime cet homme...

Alastor dropped the shredded remains of the sinner and it slumped into the pile of meat that used to be his head. He licked his lips, his eyes glowing in the darkness, a grin plastered on his face as he took off his stained jacket and put it over your shoulders.

"I believe I have a debt to collect, darling, and I'd rather do it in the privacy of our bedroom than here, don't you agree?"

He reached his hand out, and you smiled, taking it.

"Alors dépêche-toi et ne sois pas gentil, mon cerf"

Translations: On se voit en enfer, putains de salauds - See you in hell, you fucking bastards Oh, doux comme un ange et vif comme le diable - Oh, sweet as an angel and quick as the devil Oh, comme j'aime cet homme - Oh, how I love this man Alors dépêche-toi et ne sois pas gentil, mon cerf - So hurry up and don't be gentle, my deer

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #quickfic #alastor x cheshire cat #i adore this pair #who wants a part 2 - 3 - 4 - ...#ME #I WANT

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brummiereader · 1 year

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Hi everyone I'm back with another series! This is going to be a Dark!Tommy series, that some readers may find triggering, so I really wanted to give you all a warning beforehand. Overtime the following potential triggers will become more apparent...manipulative behaviour, psychological mind games, toxic relationship, controlling behaviour, violence, and psychological abuse.

Killing Me Softly (PART ONE/ DARK!TOMMY)

Summary: Reader is arranged to marry the notorious gangster of Small Heath Tommy Shelby. Going into the marriage with an open heart she soon realises he is not the man she once knew. How long will she be able to endure his cruel games?

Warnings: Angst, fluff, violence, language, psychological mind games, manipulative behaviour, Dark!Tommy (This is a dark series, please read the warnings before continuing)

Writers note: Inspired by this ominous version of the song "Killing me Softly" by Aretha Franklin. Just to note, we follow off from the intro later on in the series.

"Y/N Ohh Y/N...come on love, I'm not gonna hurt you" He said taunting you, as you heard him open each door along the dimly lit hallway on the second floor of your home Arrow House. His heavy foot steps walked slowly along the wooden floorboards as he checked each room looking, searching...for you.

Hiding under the bottom shelf of a small closet room, you made yourself as small as you could possibly get. Shaking, tears streaming down your face you brought your knees up to your chest clutching yourself, hoping and praying he wouldn't find you.

"Come out come out wherever you are, I'll count to ten you can't be far.

Under the bed, behind a door, was that a creak I heard on the floor?

I'll shout and call out your name, but you'll keep quiet, it's part of the game.

Come out come out wherever you are, I'll count to ten you can't be far...Ohh Y/N..."

Snapping your head up, you listened to the nursery rhyme as it echoed loudly through the corridor. Once an innocent song you used to sing as a child whilst playing hide-and-seek, now a menacing taunt filled with unspoken threats. All of a sudden his cruel singing came to a stop. Hearing the creaking floorboards just outside the door, your eyes widened in terror.

" You know I'll win...i always did" you heard him say in a deep menacing voice as you covered your mouth trying to silence your heavy breathing. You watched intently as his dark shadow moved underneath the door, with your whole body trembling, you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to escape. Putting your hand to your chest you breathed a silent sigh of relief as you heard his intimidating footsteps move on.

"I don't like to be teased sweetheart!" he said loudly, annoyed, as he slammed a door shut in frustration. Jolting at the sudden noise your foot slid against the floor hitting the wall in front you. Shit. Silence filled the house, the noise of his footsteps absent from your ears. Taking your hand away from your mouth, you reached out to bring your knee back into your chest, only to gasp in fear as you heard one single creak of the floorboards just outside the closet door.

"Peekaboo..." he said tilting his head as he opened the door, a sinister smile spread across his face, a bloodied knife in his hand.

"Come on now, darling" he said as he dragged you kicking and screaming out the small dark room by your night dress.

" Tommy please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, wait...wait!"

One Month Before...

An arranged marriage. If anyone would have told you this is what you had agreed to this time last year, you would have laughed in their face at their preposterous suggestion. But yet here you was, two weeks away from marrying your childhood friends brother, Tommy Shelby. You had spent most of your early life at the Shelby's house, you being close friends with Ada, you would see Tommy almost every day. Maybe that's why you had agreed to the proposition so willingly, you knew Tommy, you grew up with him, a small affection grew over the years for him, and you trusted him, or at least...you thought you did. It was a cascade of events over many years that had led up to the day when Tommy's Aunt, Polly Gray, proposed the arrangement. Your father dying in combat was the start of everything that eventually went wrong, then when your mother moved you both to London to escape the constant reminders of your late father, her health started to deteriorate. The grief of losing him had taken a tremendous toll on your mother's body, unable to work anymore, and with only a war widows pension, you had to take on extra hours working in a press factory as your mother stayed home, you were barely getting by. Now you found yourselves back in Small Heath, back home, back in search for easier times. Hearing of your mother's ill health and your struggle to find employment, Polly Gray a friend of the family, re-entered you lives, offering you help when no one else would.

The proposition Polly made at first, was not one of marriage, but one of employment, you was to work in the Shelby Company Limited offices as a secretary, but when Tommy caught wind of his Aunt's plans and the knowledge of your return to Small Heath, with no need of another secretary he proposed a different arrangement, one of marriage. A wife in return for the financial support of your mother and the help she so desperately needed, that was the offer Polly came to you with that late spring day, the day your whole life changed.

Arranged marriages were not unheard of in the 1920s, and Tommy being a man who had so little time to find a wife, found himself needing one. He didn't particularly want one, but he needed one if he was ever going to rub shoulders with the people he wanted to do business with. With a wife by his side, he would be able to portray himself as a stable family man, an image he needed to paint to finally be taken seriously by the circle of people he wanted to be acquainted with, or at least, that's what he told everyone. You had very little family left, most of them having died in the war or from illness, your mother was the only immediate family you had. With no other options, your mother's health worsening, and no money to pay for the doctors she so badly needed, you had willingly agreed to the arrangement without much hesitation. An almost transactional agreement, but one you entered into with an open mind and heart, naively thinking that this arrangement would eventually turn into a loving marriage... how wrong you would be.

"I'm ready" you said as you straightened out your white summer dress.

" You look beautiful darling" your mother replied as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

" I'm sorry I can't come with you" your mother said as she handed you your small black purse.

"It's ok, you're not feeling well, get some rest ok?" You said as you kissed her cheek. Saying goodbye you opened the front door and walked out onto the busy streets of Small Heath. It was summer and surprisingly a beautiful day in the small Birmingham town. The sun breaking through the thick smoke of the factory chimneys, beamed down on your skin as you walked the ten minute journey to Watery Lane. Your thoughts turning in your head, you started to doubt your decision. What if he doesn't like me ? What if this doesn't work out? Does he even remember me? It was so long ago, you couldn't even remember what he looked like. Walking across to the next street you was now on Watery Lane. Standing in front of the door you straightened out your posture as you painted on a smile, before you could even knock, the door flew open.

"Are you Tommy's wife?" A small boy with a peaked cap and muddy knees said, as he opened the door.

"Not yet she's not" Polly said moving the boy out the way as she ushered you in, planting a kiss to your cheek.

" Polly" you said hugging her, smiling as she welcomed you into the house.

" Come sit down dear" she said as she pulled out a chair for you at the round table in the middle of the room.

" Hello you" you heard a voice say from behind you.

"Ada!" You said turning around, as she bent down to give you a hug.

" Look at you!" she said smiling to you, as she brushed your hair away from your shoulder " You're a beauty Y/N, Polly isn't she just beautiful?" She said turning to her Aunt.

" That she is, Tommy's one lucky man" she replied smiling to you with a wink. Sitting down in front of you, she poured you each a glass of whiskey.

" Bit of Dutch courage" she said handing you the glass, which your gratefully took, downing it in one go.

" Steady on!" Ada giggled covering her mouth, "You're not marrying the Devil himself" she laughed once again.

" Nervous?" Polly asked, as she looked at your anxious face, reaching out for your hand.

" A little...Polly what if this doesn't wor..." you said only to be interrupted by the small boy from before.

"Tommy's here!" He shouted as he ran through the kitchen knocking over one of the wooden chairs.

" Finn out!" Polly demanded, pointing to the stairs as he stomped up them, his arms folded, a grumpy thrown forming on his face.

" Ello ello" Arthur announced as he entered the room, John not far behind him.

"There she is" he said reaching out to hug you. " You've grown" he said motioning up and down your body with his hand, his eyes stopping at your chest as he cleared his throat.

" Move over you old perv" John said with a big smile, his arms stretched out to hug you.

"John" you said, hugging him tightly. Being closer in age, you and John had always gotten along, he was like a brother to you, often the first to come to you if you ever needed help. Turning his head around, John moved out the way as Tommy walked into the room. Taking his peaked cap off, his eyes immediately scanned the room, looking for you.

"Y/N" he said walking towards you, giving you a small kiss to the cheek, his hand resting on your hip. Now a young woman, Tommy was taken aback by your beauty.

"Tommy" you said nervously as your breath hitched in your throat. The boy you remembered was gone, instead a grown man stood before you, a face aged by war, a presence that demanded respect, he walked into the room with authority and power, and you couldn't help but look away from his intimidating statue. Smiling to you, trying to ease the tension, Tommy gently placed his hand on your back, gesturing for you to sit down as he sat down in the empty chair beside you. With everyone now around the table you talked about your time in London, everything but the impending wedding, that was until Arthur brought it up.

" You'll be a Shelby in a few weeks" he said winking to you, as he took a sip of whiskey.

" Think you can handle our Tom, Y/N?" John interjected, chuckling.

" Yeh, I think I can handle him " you said laughing, trying to make light of the situation as you turned to see Tommy eyeing you from head to toe, his mouth slightly open as his eyes then landed on yours.

"Good luck to you Y/N, Tommy's not the easiest to get along with, are you Tom?" John chuckled as he put his elbows on the table, leaning in closer to you.

"Shut up John" Tommy said, clearly bothered by his teasing. Shifting in your seat, you looked down nervously at your hands.

"Tom's just a bit hot headed sometimes Y/N" Arthur said as he poured himself another whiskey ." Anyway, things will go just fine for you two, Tom here, used to have a little crush on..."

"Right, you all done, hm?" Tommy said interrupting, looking at each of his brothers, his brows raised in annoyance, as both of them put their hands up in defence, unable to hold back their laughs.

" Come on, let's leave them to it" Polly said as she ushered everyone out the small kitchen. With just you and Tommy now alone, a small silence filled the room as he lit a cigarette.

" What are siblings for if they don't give you a hard time" you said smiling to him, breaking the silence.

"You're not gonna give me a hard time are you?" He said turning to you, mischief playing in his eyes.

" No. No..." you said slightly flustered.

"But you think you can handle me, eh?

" I didn't mean it like that" you said turning to him, his eyes catching yours as you started to regret your choice of words.

" I know" he nodded chuckling " I'm only teasing Y/N" he said clearing his throat.

"I need to know for sure though, I need to hear you say it, do you want this?" He said shifting closer to you, his eyes never moving from yours.

" I want this Tommy" you said as confidently as you could. "Do you?"

" I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't" he said staring at you, his eyes piercing into you. "Look, i know it's not the typical start to a marriage, but we know eachother, we can trust eachother, right?" he said as he reached for your hand, his thumb caressing you in reassurance.

" We can trust eachother" you nodded, comforted by his gentle touch " You know, coming here today, i didn't think you would remember me" you said as you traced your finger around the rim of your empty glass.

" Oh I remember you. You were here all the time, running around playing hide-and-seek. And if I remember correctly, you were never very good at it" he said a smile on his lips as his eyes darted between yours and your fingers grazing along the glass.

"Well, you never did count to ten" you joked as a laugh escaped Tommy's mouth.

"I wasn't very patient" he admitted, taking a drag of his cigarette his eyes glistening, as a cocky grin formed on his face

" God, we must have annoyed Polly so much sometimes"

" We were just kids" he said shrugging his shoulders, as he poured you both another glass of whiskey.

" Not anymore" you replied, as he handed you your drink, his fingers brushing over yours.

" No, not anymore" he echoed quietly, taking a sip of his whiskey, as he looked over your body in the corner of his eye, clenching his jaw.

" I got you something" he said clearing his throat. Reaching into his suit pocket, Tommy pulled out a small box with a red ribbon neatly fastened around it. Putting it on the table he slowly pushed it towards you.

" Tommy you didn't have to do that"

" It's a wedding gift, I want you to wear it on the day" He said stubbing his cigarette out, as he watched your slender fingers gently untie the ribbon.

" Oh my god...Tommy" you said smiling as you took out a small diamond encrusted bracelet. "It's beautiful" you said as you turned the bracelet around, only to furrow your brows as you looked at his and your initials engraved with a date on the back.

"Tommy I think the Jeweler made a mistake, the date's wrong?

"It's not wrong Y/N, I'm bringing the wedding forward, to next Saturday" Tommy said as he opened his cigarette holder, pulling out another.

" What...forward?" You questioned confused by the unexpected change of plans.

" You don't have a problem with that, do you?" He questioned as he exhaled a cloud of smoke up to the ceiling, rubbing the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger.

" No, it's just...everything's been planned for two weeks time, why did you change the dates?"

" I don't want to wait Y/N" he said, tapping the ash from the cigarette into the glass tray as he turned to face you, his brows raised in surprise at your questions. " You sure you want to marry me, eh? He said cocking an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips.

"I do Tommy, it's just.." you said, still confused by the the sudden urgency. "..next week it is then" you replied, giving in, not knowing what else to say. Smiling to you, Tommy sat forward taking your hand as he clasped the bracelet around your small wrist.

"You like it then?" He asked his eyes looking up at you through his thick lashes.

"I love it" you said reaching your arms out, wrapping them around him. Hugging you back, Tommy's hand moved up to the back of your neck, his cheek pressing into your hair as he breathed in your perfume.

" You'll never want for anything Y/N, I'll make sure of that" he said as he let go. " And your mother, she will be looked after" he confirmed, as you looked up, meeting his eyes.

" Thank you, Tommy" you said as you placed your hand into his, his other hand reaching up, softly stroking your cheek with his thumb.

" We'll make it work, yeh?" he nodded to you.

" We will" you said shyly as you looked down at the bracelet on your wrist.

" Good. My brothers are right though, I can be a difficult man at times, stubborn set in my ways. But I'll look after you" he said as you nodded to him, his thumb still on your cheek as his fore finger grazed down cupping your chin "And in return I'll have a good, obedient wife" he added, eyes narrowing, his forehead raised, his grip subtly tightening as he waited for your reaction. Your eyes darted away nervously only to quickly come back to his intense glare.

"I'll be a good wife Tommy" you said, a small unsure laugh leaving your lips at his odd choice of words.

" Good" he said letting go of your cheek, his face finally relaxing, as he leaned back into his chair.

" You know Y/N, I think this might just work out for us"

NEXT PART

Tag list: @litteltourtius @aesthetic0cherryblossom

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #killing me softly #dark tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby

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vivwritesfics · 6 months

Text

Jester Stole His Thorny Crown

Chapter Six

He never had a choice in his life. His dreams were nothing more that that. Dreams. But then he met a lounge singer at his brother club and everything changed.

Mafia!Au

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Oldies night was her favourite. She had her selection of songs in her head, her setlist for the night, going through them as she made her way to the club.

But, when she pushed her way inside, her piano wasn't where she had left it. It was pushed to one side of the stage while other instruments and musical equipment were set up in the centre. "What the fuck," she whispered under her breath.

Moving around the tables, she made her way to the back office. She ignored the urge to shout at the people setting up their instruments as she walked past.

"Y/N." Charles was grinning at her from behind Arthurs desk as she walked into the room. But she ignored them, searching through the papers on the desk for the schedule. "I spoke to Arthur and it took some convincing but-"

"What the fuck?" She cried once she found the schedule. Her normal seven day working week had been changed to just four. Slowly, she raised her head to face him. "Did you speak to Arthur?" She asked quickly, dropping the normal fear that Charles was used to hearing. "Is this because of you?"

He nodded, not quite understanding that she was pissed. "Got Arthur to book someone else for tonight," he said. "I thought I could take you out to dinner, say thank you for the piano lessons."

This was the side of Charles she had been wanting to see ever since she first met him. This side of Charles wasn't terrifying. He was happy and relaxed, and she hated him.

Almost immediately, panic set up. "How the hell am I gonna make rent this month?" Her voice came out as a squeak in panic. She gripped the strap of her bag as she looked at who was replacing her.

She didn't recognise any of the names. Who the hell was Disco Fever Three? "I... do you know where I could find Arthur?" She asked.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, finally getting the hint.

She shook her head as she walked out of the office. "Where are you going?" Charles called after her. "I thought we could get dinner."

But she kept walking. "I... I have things I need to do."

"Y/N!" He shouted, his voice just a little deeper this time. But she kept going, kept walking away from him. And it was making Charles mad. "Y/N!" He stood from the desk and strode towards her.

In four large steps he had reached her. He reached his hand out, grasping her arm. "Go out to dinner with me," he said, but it didn't come out friendly. Not in the slightest. The way he was looking at her, it had her shivering.

"Are you threatening me, Mr Leclerc?"

The grin that overtook his expression was somewhat sinister and his grip grew tighter. "Not threatening, chérie. Just inviting."

She looked away from him, lowered her gaze as she nodded. "Perfect," Charles said. He shut the office door and led the way out to his car.

The restaurant fell hushed when Charles strode in with her on his arm. Suddenly, every patron was nervous. The waitress was sweating as she led them to their seats.

Desperately she wanted to apologise to the poor waitress, but she couldn't. Another waitress came over and put bread and water on their table, giving them each a menu.

She didn't look at the menu. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him. Even as she stared, she couldn't get up the courage to say what she really wanted to, to ask why he had brought her there. Part of her didn't want to know, wanted to eat and get out of there. She did have to get on and look for a second job, after all.

When the waitress came back over, Charles ordered for her. A fancy cocktail and food she hadn't quite caught the name of. No matter what it was, whether she liked it or nit, she'd eat every bite.

"I can't believe Arthur hasn't given you a day off before today," he said as they waited on their drinks to be brought over. Neither of them could see just how stressed the staff were as they tried to get their orders to them as quickly as possible.

She couldn't help the scoff that left her lips, immediately covering her mouth with her hand to hide it. But Charles had caught it, levelling her with a somewhat threatening look. "What," he barked.

She sank in on herself. Fuck, she really hoped that he hadn't seen. "Nothing," she said and cleared her throat. "It's just, Arthur hasn't given me a day off because I don’t want one. He pays me as much as he can, and that barely makes up my rent." She sighed through her nose as her drink was placed in front of her. She wasn't going to admit it, but the drink was needed.

Charles let out a sigh. "And if you can't make rent you'll have to "borrow" from us, which would put you in an even worse position," he said and she nodded.

He knew what he had to do. But Charles wouldn't apologise for taking her much needed performances away from her. He'd fix it as best he could, but never admit he was wrong.

A restaurant wasn't the right setting, that was for sure. Charles maintained his tough, terrifying persona until they left the restaurant, climbing back into his car.

"Where do you live?" He asked as he fiddled with the radio.

She shook her head. "You can just take me back to the lounge, if you'd like," she said, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

"Don't be stupid,"he immediately replied. "Give me the address, now."

That was all she needed before she let her street and building name fall from her lips. She didn’t want Charles to know where she lived, but now she didn’t have much of a choice.

What she didn’t know as she climbed out of the car, was that Charles had an idea. There was a reason why he had asked for her address, reason why he wanted to know where she lived.

If she couldn’t pay rent, he was going to do something about it.

As soon as she was inside, Charles drove back to the lounge. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the evening. It didn’t go the way he had imagined, not in the slightest. He hadn’t wanted to threaten her, but his instincts had taken over. If she had just gone along with it, they could have had a nice evening. But now, well, the entire evening left a sour taste in his mouth.

He parked up outside of the club and climbed out of the car. Music could be heard coming from inside, but it wasn’t as good as she was on the piano. He walked in and strode past the full tables, heading towards the back office.

“Did you tell her?” Asked Arthur as he strode in. The younger Leclerc had waited until Charles had gotten her out of the club to start working.

Charles sat in the seat opposite him. He scowled at his brother. “You’re a coward.”

“You’re the one who wanted her hours cut. And I’m guessing she hates you for it.”

Charles deflated in his chair. “How do I fix it?”

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trans-cuchulainn · 6 months

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let's be more positive about books for a while! here are some queer historical romance novels that i've been rereading recently that i think do something interesting with making characters feel historical in their mindset and worldview, but are also fairly progressive, diverse queer books that are, frankly, a delight to read

this is by no means exhaustive and to be honest i could put almost anything by cat sebastian or kj charles on a list like this so this is purely the highlights of what i've reread in the past week to take my mind off work, and why i think they're interesting from this specific angle

cat sebastian, the ruin of a rake (turners #3)

this is technically the third in a trilogy but they're only very loosely connected, so you don't need to have read the others if you don't care about knowing who all the background characters are. the others are also good though

why it's interesting: features a character who has had to painstakingly study and learn the rules of polite society in order to claw his way up to respectability, and is now deploying those skills to help another man repair his reputation. shows the complexity of those rules, the social purposes they serve, and the work that goes into living by them, as well as the consequences of breaking them. also explores some of the financial side of aristocracy, and features a character with chronic illness (recurring malaria following repeated infections as a child in india) whose feelings about his illness are very relatable without feeling overly modern.

kj charles, society of gentlemen series.

this trilogy is closely related plot-wise and best read in order. all three explore cross-class romances and characters struggling to reconcile their political views and personal ethics with their desires, in the aftermath of the peterloo massacre, with a strong focus on the political role of the written word. first book is long-lost gentleman raised by seditionists / fashion-minded dandy teaching him to behave in society; second book is tory nobleman submissive / seditious pamphleteer dominant who've been fucking for a year without knowing the other's identity; third book is lord / valet and all the complicated dynamics of consent there with a generous side-helping of crime.

why they're interesting: close attention to the history of political printing and the impact of government censorship and repressive taxes on the freedom of the press; complex ideological disagreements that aren't handwaved as unimportant; examination of trust, consent, and social responsibility across class differences and in situations with problematic power dynamics; most of the characters are progressive for their time without feeling like they have modern attitudes. the second book, a seditious affair, deals most strongly with the revolutionary politics side of things, but all tackle it to some extent.

kj charles, band sinister.

look i'm probably biased because this might be my favourite KJC. it's a standalone about a pair of siblings: the sister wrote a gothic novel heavily inspired by their mysterious and scandalous neighbour whose older brother had an affair with their mum (causing scandal); the brother is a classics nerd. the sister breaks her leg on a ride through their neighbour's estate and can't be moved until she heals so they both have to stay at the house and find out if the neighbour is really as scandalous as he seems.

why it's interesting: discussion of atheism and new ideas about science and creation (very shocking to the brother, who is the viewpoint character); details of agriculture and estate management via main LI's attempt to grow sugar beet, as well as the economics of sugar (including references to slavery); "unexpurgated" latin and greek classics as queer reference points for a character who nevertheless hasn't quite figured out he's queer; material consequences of society scandal

bonus: wonderful sibling dynamic and a diverse cast including a portugese jewish character, which i don't think i've seen in a book before

i will add to this list as i continue to reread both of their backlists! (bc i have read them all enough times and in close enough succession that they blur together in my head unless i've read them very recently)

#néide has opinions about books #kj charles #cat sebastian #queer historical romance

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asumofwords · 1 year

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Blood, gore, major character deaths.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Oh my god.... Everything is happening ARGH! I'm actually going to try and post updates daily now for this, bar Sunday for the next Sublet chapter. I am just so excited to finish this series! Hahaha, anyway, I've loved seeing all your reactions and theories!! <3

Chapter 102: Envoys to Dragonstone

When you had returned to your chambers, it was a blur of movements and thoughts, but one in particular seemed to absorb all the rest. Its dark tendrils wrapped around the others, pulling them into the dark with it, thus making its size almost immeasurable until all other thoughts were devoured by it, gone from the light, and all that was left was it.

War was coming.

With shaky hands you grasped a piece of parchment and sat at the table. With the ink pot and quill, you rolled the parchment flat beneath your palm and began to write.

You wrote as though your life depended on it.

Because it did.

And with each swift flick of your script, a blaring word in particular seemed to have broken loose from the feeling of hopelessness. A word which had been whispered and cried. Spoken and sneered. A word that had fuelled your hope, and created your despair. A word that you knew, now more than ever, was a need to act.

Dracarys.

And so you wrote until the page was full, and tears leaked from your eyes at knowing what was to come next.

Loss.

‘Mother and Father,

To write to you under the present circumstances does little to steady my beating heart, but it is something that I know will ensure that it keeps doing just that. Beating.

Aegon is dead. Slain at the hands of Aemond.

And now he is King. And I, Queen.

The treaty is lost, and at the risk of another war coming to take us all, I must beg you, bend the knee.

Bend the knee to Aemond.

If you swear him as King, he has said that he will allow you to live on Dragonstone and carry out your days there safely and happily.

If you do not bend the knee, war will break, and I will not survive it.

You will not survive it.

None of us will.

My only consolation is that if you do, we shall all live, and that I will be able to see you again soon.

I suspect I am with child, Aemond’s child. And if the promise of your own flesh and blood upon the throne does not satiate your need to rule, then know I hold no grievances towards you. It is your birthright, just as it is mine.

If you do not bend the knee, you must send star fruit to the Keep so that I know of your decision, and may feel its sweet nectar upon my tongue once more before war breaks out. It is the only way I will survive this all, and it is the only way that I will know that you do not hate me for asking you of this.

It was not my wish to depose my mother of the throne, nor my father, or my dearest brother Jacaerys. I beg for your forgiveness. I shall go to the Godswood and pray that you will forgive such an offence, and pray that the Gods will forgive my sins too.

Until then, I wait to hear of your acquiesce to Aemond and I's rule, or the delivery of star fruit to the keep in barrels full.

Yours forever,

Queen Y/n.’

Tears slipped past your eyes, and you had not even heard Aemond enter the chambers, nor sense him standing behind you as he read your letter. It was only until he touched a lock of your hair at the back of your head did you know that he was there.

“Are you ready?” He asked softly, cool patience in his tone.

You turned your head to look up at him.

Were you ready?

Would you ever be ready for what was to come?

If your parents bent the knee, that meant you would rule as Queen, like you had always wanted, and at the side of Aemond.

But if they didn’t?

No.

They would come.

Just as you asked.

More tears fell, and Aemond swiped them away gently with his thumb, “Issa iā qopsa geralbar bona ilagon gō īlva. Yn nyke gīmigon bona hēnkirī, hae mēre, kosti.” It is a difficult road that lays before us. But I know that together, as one, we can.

“Iksan nāpāsagon ñuha lentor.” I am betraying my family, You sniffed, another tear trailing down your cheek hotly.

Aemond frowned sadly at you, helping you to stand.

“Iksis ziry drēje?” Is it true? He asked quietly, “Issi ao lēda riña?” Are you with child?

You knew in your bones that you were.

Although there were not many symptoms but the inklings of sore breasts, you just knew. You knew instinctually that it was true. That the Gods had given you and Aemond another chance of being parents, and you would not lose that opportunity again.

You nodded, another tear rolling down your cheek, one of sorrow and joy.

Aemond bent his head down to kiss you gently, lips brushing against your own in reverence, but his hands upon your face showed the true excitement that he held back. They were firm, and tight, and almost tingled against your skin.

“I am scared.” You breathed.

“I will keep you and my child safe.” Aemond looked you in the eye, sincerity on his face, a hand coming to press gently at your stomach.

You smiled sadly at him, “Not if war breaks.”

“Even then. I will not lose you, or our child. You are the most precious thing in the world to me, my one and only love. Not even the Gods could take you from me.” He promised.

Your heart soared as you nodded up at him, rising on your tiptoes to capture his lips once more. He whispered an apology against your lips, and you couldn’t help the small sob that escaped.

“Please do not make me choose.” You whispered, hands holding the sides of his face, stubble brushing against the scar of your palm, the reminder of your union and love always there.

“You have already made your choice. Now they must make theirs.”

Aemond left you in the chambers alone to deliver your letter to Otto Hightower and Ser Criston Cole, who readied themselves to leave by ship that very evening. They would arrive to Dragonstone by morning.

And you would get your answer from the skies.

DRAGONSTONE POV

The morning broke the same way that it had before.

The sun rose above the waters surrounding Dragonstone, and cast the volcanic island in a glow of golden light. There was a light breeze that morning as the maids had opened the windows and balcony doors to Queen Rhaenyra and King Daemon’s quarters.

They had been dressed and readied, and broke their fast together. Little Viserys and Aegon the Younger tottered around their chambers, playing with tiny toy dragons that had been carved from wood.

The couple eventually made their way down to the study, Rhaenyra having gotten word from the men at the Red Fork that a certain war dragon had been spotted in the skies, and not seen to have left until almost a dozen days later.

As Rhaenyra shifted the letters at the large desk and Daemon sat lazily before the fir with one leg crossed over the other as Little Viserys sat on his knee, stories being whispered into the young boys ear as Aegon the younger sat on the floor playing with his toys, the door to the chambers were rapt by knuckles thrice in quick succession.

“Come.” Rhaenyra beckoned, and watched as the doors were opened swiftly by a Ser Erryk Cargyll.

The twin gave a short nod in greeting before apologising for his intrusion, “Your, Grace, there is a ship, just west of Dragonstone.”

Rhaenyra stiffened in her chair, and Daemon snapped his head to the man, quietening his whispers.

“It flies the banner of your brother.”

Rhaenyra stood from her seat slowly, Daemon going her with his son in his arms, the boy nestled against his side.

There had not been a ship to Dragonstone since the day Otto had come to watch her daughter be wed to her half-brother.

“Notify the council, have them be ready.” Rhaenyra commanded, and Ser Erryk bowed his head, leaving the chambers at once.

Rhaenyra and Daemon stared at each other, Viserys fussing in Daemon’s arms, sensing the tension that mounted in the room like a storm.

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Daemon breathed heavily, smoothing hair away from his sons head as two of Rhaenyra’s maids entered the chambers.

Daemon kissed the top of the boys forehead before handing him to one of the girls, the other scooping Aegon the Younger into her arms before exiting the chambers.

Rhaenyra moved around the desk, coming to stand in front of Daemon, “I believe we should be ready for it.”

By the time the two entered the Chambers of the Painted Table, the Small Council of Queen Rhaenyra were already standing around it in wait. Jacaerys stood off to the side, his Lady Wife, Baela beside him.

Lord Corlys stood to the side of Baela with Princess Rhaenys and their other granddaughter Rhaena, all who wore black and red, with hints of blue, as was their new and old House colours.

All other Lords and Maester’s stood at the other end.

“When should they arrive to shore?” Rhaenyra asked, forgoing a greeting as she walked swiftly to the head of the table with her husband.

“Within the hour, Your Grace.” Came the response of Maester Gerardys.

Rhaenyra nodded, looking amongst the table before she jumped into action.

“We need to be ready for whatever my brother Aegon has planned. Patrol the skies and the sea. Have men at the ready for anything.”

Jacaerys stepped forward, “I shall ride Vermax.”

Rhaenyra nodded, though her heart raced in her chest.

The last time she had allowed her children to take to the skies, only one came back.

“I’ll take Moondancer, Your Grace.” Princess Baela declared.

Rhaenyra gave the girl a small smile, “Good.” She turned to face Rhaenys, “Take Meleys to the sky. If Aegon or Aemond are to come on the backs of their dragons, we will need numbers and you are one of our best.”

Daemon was the next to speak, “I shall take Caraxes-”

“-No.” Rhaenyra argued, “You will stay with me. I need you at my side.” Turning to Lord Corlys, she requested the presence of his ships, “Have four of your ships ready at port.”

The older man nodded, moving swiftly out of the chambers to command them.

“You said there was only one ship?” Rhaenyra questioned the Maester.

“Yes, Your Grace. Only one has been spotted.”

The crown weighed heavily atop the Queens head in that moment, the first time she had ever truly felt the weight of it.

At first when Daemon had crowned her, it was foreign, but with time, she grew to not notice its presence, as though it was another set of braids atop her head. But now, she felt the heavy weight of it all, pressing down on her skull, hyperaware that she had a duty, and it was about to be tested.

Once the ships had been pulled to the docks, and her dragon riders had taken to the skies, Queen Rhaenyra and her King Consort, Daemon Targaryen, moved with the Queens Guard down to the meeting point of the path where they had stood before.

When greeted with Aegon’s terms.

And then later with the return of their daughter.

But this time, they waited and watched as the heads and banners of the Green three headed dragon came towards them, and they did not once sense that they would be reunited with their daughter once more. Instead, Ser Otto Hightower was flanked by Ser Criston Cole and members of her brothers Kings Guard.

Above them, three dragons flew in circles, watching from above.

Waiting.

Ready.

Ser Otto Hightower, in all his lithe glory, came to a stop before Queen Rhaenyra, looking all the more like a weevil that had crawled into a farmers grain.

For he was a pest that had wormed its way into her fathers life, and become the driving force of the usurpation of the throne, her daughter and sons deaths, and the removal of her surviving daughter to her half-brother.

Ser Otto was a man that Rhaenyra as a child had hoped and prayed that her father would have seen through. That Viserys could have seen the man before him was a mask, a shell, and hid his true intentions behind duty and tradition. But Viserys had been blinded by the wolf in sheep's clothing, and Otto’s lies had been strengthened by Daemon’s love for her.

Viserys never did get to see the ruin that his inaction would become.

Daemon, the once Rogue Prince, stood at his wife’s side diligently, as he had promised to do, large palms resting upon the two swords that flanked him, one being the Dark Sister blade. He struggled to not sneer at the man who had taken everything from him.

Taken his daughter from him. His brother.

“We come as envoys.” Otto began, Ser Cole staring at Daemon, his own hand atop the hilt of his sword.

Daemon had not forgotten Cole's place in all this either.

Crispin Cole.

Rhaenyra looked down at the men from her nose. Despite being shorter than them, she stood uphill, and gave the illusion that she was above them.

And she was.

Where she was Queen, they were mere Ser’s.

“King Aemond the First-“

“-Aemond?” Rhaenyra interrupted sharply, worry coursing through her chest, “Did my brother Aegon drink himself to death in his cups?”

Otto reached into his coat pocket, the Queen’s Guard shifting as they watched his movement carefully. Long fingers pulled apart his lapel and dove into the inner pocket, grasping the rolled parchment from their daughter.

Daemon shifted atop the balls of his feet.

Lord Hightower held out the scrolled parchment, green insignia stamped into its papery surface with wax, “A letter from the Queen.”

“Queen?” Daemon snipped, looking at the parchment.

Ser Erryk stepped forward to grasp the letter, armour shuffling as his eyes darted to his twin, Arryk Cargyll, who stood behind Otto Hightower.

It was a sad day for either twin, seeing their other half on different sides of a silent war. Their eyes met, if only briefly, all hurt and betrayal, before Erryk took the scroll and delivered it to Rhaenyra.

“King Aegon is dead. And in the line of succession, Aemond has taken his place.”

“What about his remaining son?” Daemon questioned, looking at the scroll briefly before back at Otto.

Otto held his hands behind his back, “Maelor is too young to rule at such a time, and Aemond has taken the Iron Throne.”

Ser Erryk held out the parchment for his Queen to take, which she took whilst keeping her eyes upon Otto, much like her husband, who continued to talk.

“Bend the knee to the King, swear your fealty to him and he shall allow you to remain here as the Lady of Dragonstone, whereafter your son Jacaerys the Lord of Dragonstone, and Joffrey Lord of Driftmark. The Queen has agreed to send word to you now that the treaty has ended with Aegon’s passing.”

Rhaenyra hastily unrolled the parchment, ripping the green wax insignia of the three headed dragon off the paper, the wax crumbling onto the stone below. Violet eyes roved over her daughters script whilst Daemon read over the top of her shoulder.

The Queen felt a tide of rage.

“I will not bend the knee to a usurper and kinslayer who is not even second in the line of succession. He has no right to the throne.” She hissed at the Hightower Lord, “Where is the Princess?”

“She is Queen Consort now, and shall live her days with the King in peace and safety. Your blood sits upon the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra, something that should satiate your desire for war. Bend the knee to Aemond, blood not be needlessly spilt again.”

Otto spoke like an old man telling his daughter or wife to buy something from the market that was not needed, and not at all like a man who was preventing a war.

Daemon quietly seethed beside his wife, looking at Otto, and having read two words that gave him the permission he so desperately sought. Daemon shifted, hand pulling the Dark Sister blade from her sheath and stormed forward.

“Fuck this.” Daemon sneered.

Ser Cole stepped toward him, and from above a dragon screeched.

It was a blur of guards, and the sound of men and their blades being unsheathed filling the air.

Ser Erryk Cargyll stepped to the side of Daemon, if not slightly more forward, blocking the blow of Ser Cole’s blade as Daemon moved towards Otto, whose eyes were wide in shock. Queen and King’s Guards met in the middle, a blur of bodies as Rhaenyra stood firmly, planted as she were.

Watching.

With a swing of the Dark Sister blade, Daemon sliced through Ser Otto Hightower’s shoulder, the blade cutting through flesh and bone as though it was butter, carving down to the middle of his chest.

Blood sprayed from his wound, and the older man cried out into the air, the beating wings of dragons loud above them.

As the King Consort pulled his blade from the Hightower Lord, who stumbled backwards on shaky legs, Daemon swung the Dark Sister blade into the air once more, connecting with his neck.

His body landed on the floor before his head did, which rolled downwards into the chaos of the guards and knights who fought, mouth open and eyes wide.

Ser Erryk blocked another swipe of Criston’s blade, who came at him harder and faster, anger and desperation in his eyes. Ser Arryk, his twin, steadily approached the two as he battled through the sea of fighting.

A few of Aemond’s men had turned back, running down the path to try to get back to their ship, to send word to the King, but a large shadow loomed above them, and with a cry, Baela screamed out her deathly command for the very first time.

“Dracarys!”

Moondancer, a slender and pale green dragon with pearl like horns, opened her jaws and a plume of fire was cast over the Green deserters. The flames devoured the men entirely, who screamed in agony, trying to outrun their burning flesh, before dropping to the floor below, silent and stiff.

Baela, to prevent any more attempting to escape, landed against the path, the large claws of her dragon digging into the stone sides, much like how Rhaenyra had, many moons ago.

Moondancer screeched, head down and long at the backs of Aemond’s men who turned to face the dragon in fear, swords lifted in a pathetic last chance of defence.

It was an opportunity that Rhaenyra’s men did not let pass.

And an opportunity Daemon didn’t either.

The Dark Sister blade cut through three men, and Jacaerys upon Vermax landed behind the Queen and her men, a subtle threat, and a vow of protection for his Queen Mother.

Vermax growled deeply, teeth bared, whilst Rhaenys continued to circle atop Meleys from above, searching the skies for any sign of her cousins.

Ser Cole, sensing that he was fighting a losing battle, did not give up, and came at Ser Erryk brutally. The twin stumbled backwards, Arryk moving towards Cole’s side as Criston's blade barely just missed the twins face.

But as Ser Cole was occupied, and Rhaenyra watched from behind stony faced, he did not see the shadow that passed behind him, nor did he anticipate the thrusting of the Dark Sister blade through the pummel of his chest.

Ser Erryk Cargyll took advantage of the opportunity, and turned to face his twin brother, a man who was the exact image of him bar small scars upon their bodies, and if you had asked Arryk a year before, he was taller. Their swords clashed together, moves and skill mirrored as both men had grown and trained together side by side.

Daemon Targaryen, the once Rogue Prince and now Rogue King, a man who was seasoned in war, and battle, and swordsmanship, stood behind Ser Criston Cole, blade in hand as it penetrated through the top of his chest under his shoulder. Blood dripped from its tip thickly as he looked down at it, eyes wide in shock.

Daemon’s silver hair, now streaked in blood, lifted gently in the breeze that rolled past.

The drops of Ser Cole’s blood was loud in Rhaenyra’s ears as she looked at the man dubbed ‘The King Maker’.

With a large boot, Daemon kicked the knight off of his blade, and onto his knees.

Ser Criston Cole landed with a thud, looking up at Rhaenyra, eyes darkened by hatred. The blade in his hand had fallen to the ground, and blood dripped down from his wound thickly, splattering across the stones like many of his other men.

Rhaenyra looked down her nose at the man, lips pulled back in a sneer.

It was quiet on the path, the only sound Rhaenys’ dragon calling out from above, and the sound of blood on stone. All other fighting was drowned out by the rage that pumped through her veins.

And as though connected through a bond, like rider and dragon, Daemon stood behind Ser Criston Cole, The King Maker; a man who had been sworn to Rhaenyra once before, a man she had once been intimate with when she was a young girl, a man who had witnessed the Gods affirmation that she was fit for the throne, a man who had aided the usurpation of the throne, a man who had broken his oath to the cloak, and Daemon heeded the Queen’s wordless command.

Daemon swung the Dark Sister blade one final time.

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xjulixred45x · 5 months

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Can I request a like one shot of yandere evil invincible with gn younger sibling reader

YEEEEES THANKS ANON

Yandere! Evil! Mark Grayson/Invincible x Little Sibiling! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: gender neutral

Warnings: PLATONIC YANDERE, GENERAL YANDERE BEHAVIOR, OBSESIVE BEHAVIOR, OVERPROTECTION, MASS MURDER, MANIPULATION, SPOILERS FROM THE SERIES AND FROM THE ARC "INVINCIBLE WAR"!!

OKEY, Taking as a reference what we saw of the majority of evil Marks in the Invincible War arc, it is most likely that sibiling reader does not have much age difference with Mark.

maybe 5 years or 6 at most.

If we go for a more similar evil Mark to the normal/Mohak Mark, then probably the relationship between these two wouldn't be so bad...at first.

let me explain myself.

It is left to be understood that for the alternate Marks to become evil they must have had a more unstable childhood than the main Mark had. which made them more perverse.

that would probably also affect his relationship with his little sibiling.

Let's say the Evil Mark we use in this situation is the Sinister Mark.

He not only grew up with an Omni Man who did not care for humanity, but also murdered his and sibiling reader mother.

causing quite severe trauma on him and to sibiling reader. It's just that they brought it out in different ways.

Sinister Mark probably even if he was considerably more evil than his other counterparts, this trauma was probably what generated his protective instinct towards his younger sibiling, being in a way his only source of sincere affection(whatever if he wants to admit it or not).

and we could say that he justified these thoughts with the fact that since they were both Viltrumites, his sibiling was the only one who deserved his protection, his love.

and at the same time he has a certain sense of entitlement to his sibiling's love, because after all he only wants "the best for them" when conquering the earth, the fact that they doesn't understand it is something else.

Sinister Mark learned to see his Sibiling as a small, weak being who doesn't know what they doing and needs his guidance. so to speak.

And so they both grew, they are the trauma that made one crazy and the other could have been turned into someone considerably more reserved.

since of course, sibiling reader was smaller, weaker, easier to defeat when fighting against their father.

Although I think that sibiling reader definitely awakened their powers before Mark, to the astonishment and even displeasure of the aforementioned.

Yes, it has its positive side. Now that they has powers so young they could be stronger and they could even be on the same level, they could rule the earth together without problems.

but it would also mean that sibiling reader wouldn't be as dependent on Mark as he would have been before he had his powers. Before that, reader would ask Mark for help with various things, whether it be giving them a ride, lifting something heavy, getting rid of someone, etc.

or even they will no longer need his protections, his angle rock in their relationship.

Now Sibiling reader has a new independence that Mark doesn't like.

but at the same time he can use the situation to his advantage so that brother reader has the same way of thinking as him.

We could say that it is from here that the obsession begins.

Of course, Sinister Mark is a horrible person from the beginning, but as I said, he and the reader had, as far as possible, a "good" relationship where although there was a HUGE power imbalance, Mark acted as their "protector" when he felt that It was his "duty"

as if it were an imitation of a normal relationship between siblings.

but most importantly, we could say that before the reader got their powers, Mark let them have more independence (somehow).

since the reader really couldn't do anything against Mark or his father at that moment after all.

but with reader having powers, it changes everything.

Sinister Mark, despite everything, is willing to teach the reader the bases of their powers, but he also never misses the opportunity to scare them with all the enemies they will have to face if they decides to use them.

I don't think this Mark is above orchestrating incidents in which the reader ends up in a bad situation (get the shit kicked out of them) and he comes to the "rescue."

It's like something similar to Mother Gothel but without magical hair, just obsession.

Also this Mark is great at making reader think that they are less capable than they really are, just because he has the advantage of being stronger and older.

If the reader wants to go somewhere on their own, Mark will be frantically telling them about all the villains in that area, about how they have no training, about how naive they are, that the world will beat them up and spit them out alive, etc.

He infantilizes/idiotizes them, basically.

This way it makes 1- reader see him in a positive light (no, he's not a good influence honey, stay away from him--) and 2- reader becomes afraid of going out or interacting with the outside world.

In that case Mark showers them with love and can even be nice, it's like being normal human sibilings to a certain point when he's not, well, conquering the earth.

Probably he and the reader have the same taste for comics, so he lends them his to entertain themself. Not to mention the ancestral custom of siblings giving them his old toys.

He's also VERY prankster, the kind of prankster who appears out of nowhere to scare you and then laugh in your face. That's Sinister Mark.

It makes him more funny if the reader throws something at him or even hits him. He says it's like hitting him with a pillow.

but it's definitely not a good idea to make him angry. in the least.

This is a completely deranged Mark, so if the reader tries, for example, to go with the other side (e.g. Anstrong), Mark would not only go after the people the reader ran away with, but reader would also have repercussions.

Using the above as a reference, if Mark found the reader with Anstrong and his son, he would kill them both in front of the reader, forcing them to watch, letting them know that THEY caused this.

I think he could also physically incapacitate the reader so that he does not escape if he is not cooperative, either by chaining them, putting a crawler on them (although he has probably already done this), or even breaking an arm or a leg, at least he has the decency to take care of them, but it will definitely be rough if they act rudely.

He becomes a bully, in a nutshell.

I think that the only way in which the reader can have all kinds of freedoms is if they wanted to be Invincible's sidekick, that changes the game a lot.

since of course! They would do it because 1- they have a similar ideology and 2- they would spend a lot of time with Mark

Mark would take it as a compliment, a bust to his ego, so he would happily accept his little sibilings as his sidekick.

I think that in this case the reader would be more similar to The Collector from TOH, that is, a super powerful child who would not really understand the concept of mortality since they are super invulmerable.

Maybe even if this reader doesn't really kill as much as their brother, they does like to keep humans under their "command" as servants or to do their things.

even "playmates" that if they break, they'll simply replace them.

This reader would definitely be a spoiled child, not only because he is practically a Mark 2.0, but because even if he is sadistic and brutal, he still acts like a little child.

You can bribe them with comics or food.

calls you silly names when they doesn't like you.

plays with toys.

They hides behind their older brother when things scare them or get out of control.

but all in a corrupted and dark version.

and Mark couldn't be happier in this case, his little sibiling came to their senses! They finally understand their purpose and duty to Viltrum, Mark would be overjoyed.

is probably the biggest cause of this reader's spoiled personality, precisely because by already having the mentality that this Mark wanted, he gives him everything they wants, and it really doesn't bother him that the reader is rude or homicidal to others, it amuses him. .

It makes his Yandere tendencies go unnoticed most of the time, if Mark finds out that someone from the empire is plotting against him using his sibiling, it's an insta kill (this in all cases).

We could even say that his yandere side is considerably reduced in this scenario, after all his little sibiling can kill anyone who gets into their relationship or if he asks them to.

They end up having a similar dynamic to Android 17 and Android 18, but with the ages reversed, Mark is the much more chaotic and homicidal older brother and Reader is the more calculating brother who worries about more superficial things.

and they would love to create bonds by destroying entire cities :)

They could even be at the same power level, which would give Mark a bittersweet feeling because on the one hand his sibiling is super happy to be able to be around him (which is even cute) but he misses the old days of when they was the little one-weakling who expected him to take care of them.

They still have some codependency.

God forbid the reader dies or successfully escapes, Mark would go CRAZY with sadness and rage for allowing this to happen.

Perhaps even, during the events of Invincible War, he was willing to take the reader from another dimension, some other Evil Mark, or the good Mark himself, just to replace the original he lost.

Either way, he's screwed without a reader.

Overall, I would say that depending on the scenario you choose and the advantages you have, having this type of brother and YANDERE can be a bloody walk in the park or your worst nightmare. you choose.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Publishing slowly, but in My way!

The Evil Marks are SUPER interesting, maybe i will do a Drabble about one of the Invincible War.

#headcanons #neutral reader #invincible imagine #invincible series #invincible show #evil invincible #invincible spoilers #invincible #yandere invincible #yandere mark grayson #platonic yandere mark grayson #yandere platonic #platonic yandere #platonic reader #platonic yandere invincible #yandere evil mark

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