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sunfyresrider · 1 year

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Love & Ruin

Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra) Warnings: drinking, cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, idk if this is dark!aeg or yandere but he's not okay, mentally. Word count: 7k Note: Part one of two:) I really hope yall like this. Reader is Helaena's age. I did not proofread; fuck it we ball. Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @annikin-im-panicin @its-actually-minicika (Hi girls ily)

‘It wasn’t meant to happen like this’

Aegon paced back and forth inside the throne room waiting for the return of his brother. The storm that had rolled in was heavy, the sounds of hail beating the glass window echoed throughout the room. The sudden crash of thunder and jolt of lighting sent a shiver down his spine. The candles that lined the room were not enough to fully bring light into the dark. It was almost poetic; the storm echoed his inner feelings perfectly.

‘How could you do this?!’

‘Have you gone mad!’

‘Think about your wife! Your children! How will this look?’

‘She won’t show us mercy now, you fool!”

It had been hours since he sent Aemond to Storm’s End. The mission couldn’t have been that hard, go ask for a Baratheon bitches' hand and bring back a person. His mother had taken to chewing at her nail beds until they bled. His grandsire sat with his face in his hands contemplating how to fix this.

Once a crown was placed on his head Aegon found a new sense of confidence, one that could no longer be stolen away by those around him. His family could no longer control him nor tell him what to do. He was king and kings did not ask permission. They took what they wanted. From now on his word was law and this mission was the only reason he didn’t flee to Yiti. It was promised to him then taken away and he fully intended to take it back. And what he wanted was traveling to beg for Lord Borros to side with the pretender…

Five hours, it took five hours for the roar of Vhagar to be heard over the red keep. The storm had subsided to a light rain, yet the sky remained dark. Finally, he rose from his seat, his heart pounding in anticipation. A giddy smile creeping onto his face that his mother couldn’t help but scoff at. It didn’t matter anymore; he had won his first prize in war.

Murmurs from the council filled the once silent room but Aegon could only hear the pounding of his heart. His eyes locked onto the door waiting for them to walk inside. His imagination swirled with possibilities and all of them were better than his current situation. Alicent and Otto stared from a distance, both realizing their potential mistake. They let the dog off the leash and now they were about to suffer the consequences.

Guards rusting outside the doors caught everyone’s attention. The room went eerily silent as the doors began to creak open. Aegon nearly jumped out of his skin as he walked forward to meet who was coming.

Aemond, drenched in water, stalked inside slowly. His face was a mix of regret and… fear? The world stopped and as if on cue a flash of lightning followed by a crack of thunder that lit up the room. Aegon’s heart ceased to beat, his smile melted into nothing, and his feet threatened to give out on him. His mother’s eyes widened, and her hands fled to cover her mouth. Aemond struggled to lift the wet, bruised and unconscious body in his arms. He let out a shaky breath,

“There’s been an… incident.”

From a young age Aegon knew he had no love from anyone besides himself. His mother simply tolerated him, his father forgot him, and everyone else loathed him. The first-born son who should inherit everything but instead was given nothing. The son born to be loved but destined to be hated.

It was no surprise he was the way he was. He drank more than he should, fucked more than allowed and was cruel to those who may or may not deserve it. No one was born evil; they were raised to be that way. At least, that’s what he told himself to feel better at night.

And he wasn’t truly evil in the eyes of most anyway, just terribly pathetic. A lonely fourteen-year-old who may never feel loved. A boy who would never fully feel the warmth of someone’s gentle touch, the excitement when they approached, the soft reassurances and sweet nothings they would whisper, the true connection when intimate with someone you loved. It was all out of his reach… Until you started coming around.

For the better half of your life your mother, Rhaenyra kept you decently hidden from most of the court. It was not at all because you shared your features with Harwin Strong but because you were simply too precious for the world. You were her only daughter, her first born and you were too beautiful for the men in this city to gawk at and prey upon.

She would protect you from everything her father couldn’t protect her from. So, yes you didn’t get out much and when you did Harwin, and your brothers followed close suit. Rhaenyra did become more lenient as you grew. It was better to let you live as you wanted under watchful eyes than be locked away because of her own fears. At least that’s what Harwin told to calm her.

You were strictly prohibited from a handful of things though. Absolutely no leaving the keep unless it was daytime, and a handful of guards were there to follow. Absolutely no wandering around after dark, anywhere, no matter the circumstance. And finally, absolutely no involvement with your uncle Aegon.

Sadly, you were born with the same rebellion in your heart as she once had. The very first thing that needed to be handled was Aegon. It excited you to no end thinking about why he was banned from speaking to you. You needed to know why it was prohibited and see if it was as exciting as you thought.

Dusk had fallen on the keep and the light from the windows was beginning to fill the corridors orange. It was one of the rare moments you were able to be completely alone. You were supposed to return to your chambers immediately after your septa lesson but had time to stroll. Right now, your brothers would still be in the dragon pit, your mother in a council meeting and Ser Harwin getting ready for his nightly patrol. It was price time to make an escape and seek him out.

You found him in a compromising position. He was curled up in the corner of the library and reeked of wine. There was a subtle shine on his face from tears that were shed earlier. He looked pathetic, not in a bad way, in an abused puppy way that made your heart melt. How could you be banned from talking to him? When asleep he looked like a poor Angel. You crawled next to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. “Uncle?” You whispered into his ears.

“Aegon?” Your soft voice began to rouse him from his slumber. His eyebrows began to furrow slightly. “Aegon, wake up.” He jumped away and snatched your wrist, startling you. “Brother?!” His eyes scanned the room and you before settling with the most confused expression plastered on his face.

“N-no Aemond isn’t here. I-it’s just me.” Aegon paused in his drunken haze. Who was me? You were too pretty to be a maid, your clothes too fancy. His eyes danced up and down your form as his brain slowly started putting it together. “Your niece. It’s __ ”

His hands released you slowly as his mouth slightly hung agape. Why in the seven hells was Rhaenyra hiding a creature as beautiful as you? Yeah, he had seen you in passing maybe once or twice but never really got a good look.

You had the perfect plush lips coated in a shade of pink. Your eyes were large and glistened with his reflection inside your pupils. Your hair fell elegantly, highlighting your pretty face. And from what he could see from your neckline you had a nice chest too, for your age.

He felt two small warm hands cup his cheeks, pulling him from his thoughts. Aegon stared at you confused, his lips puffed out. “Oh Aeg, are you alright? Did someone hurt you?” Oh gods, you were too precious. He was too dumbfounded to say anything, maybe too drunk still to fully grasp the situation.

You weren’t wrong though; someone did hurt him. His mother barged into his room and slapped him clean across the face without warning. Ranting and raving about his behavior and how he was disappointing the family. He nodded slowly, not exactly sure how he was supposed to react. You let out a deep sigh and your lips formed a frown.

You knew exactly what to do. Your mother had done the same every time you or your siblings got hurt. You rubbed the tear stains on his cheeks and kissed his forehead gently. A soft smile appearing on your lips, “don’t cry please or you’ll make me cry. You’re a prince and a good son. You ride the prettiest dragon in the world and so many people think you’re amazing. You have so much to offer and they’re just too blind to see it. So many love you, I love you and-”

You were cut off by the sounds of your mother calling out your name searching for you. You let go of his cheeks and quickly embraced him. “You’re perfect, okay? Don’t cry.” You jumped to your feet and brushed your skirts down. “I gotta go… feel better!” Aegon sat and watched your little feet scurry off into the direction of your mother's voice.

His eyes were wide, and he was frozen in the same spot. Seven hells, seriously where the fuck have you been his entire life? There was a pool of emotions swirling inside him he couldn’t fully grasp. Your little hands and soft voice saying the sweetest things to a complete stranger. The way your lips softly pressed against his forehead radiating warmth throughout his body. You were so innocent, so blindly loving… You were his.

It was an odd thing for him to think. He never really desired someone for just himself, Aegon didn’t really care until this point. But right now all he could think about was stealing you away and keeping you tucked away in his room forever. Corrupting you slowly but only for him, no one else could see it or experience it. He needed more, desperately and as soon as possible.

He forced himself into wobbly legs and sucked in a deep breath. It was time to talk to his parents.

The plan failed so horrifically he could swear the gods were pissing on him. He went and asked for your hand, said he was ready to be a good son, bring the families together finally. Aegon was shot down so fucking fast he got whiplash. His mother was okay with it, seeing potential benefits. But his father was adamantly against it as was his bitch sister.

“You think I’ll let him drag my daughter into his depravity? Not until I am cold in my grave.”

That could definitely be arranged. It made complete sense; he was the eldest son, and you were the eldest daughter. You were heir and he was the second son of the king. There was absolutely no reason for rejection besides their own selfish, impossible to understand reasons.

It didn’t really fucking matter. When he wanted something, he got it one way or another. Thus, he came up with a plan to steal you away and woo his way into your heart permanently.

Aegon had stayed painstakingly sober the entire day and avoided any of the whores he usually wasted his time with. He waited til long after the sun had set to sneak through Maegor’s hidden tunnels to try and find your chambers. It was a hassle, he stumbled into Jacaerys’s room once and immediately backed out. Then he walked past what he assumed was a hidden entrance to your mother’s room only to hear lewd noises coming from inside.

He didn’t realize it at the time but that was when Joffrey was made.

The deeper he walked the more aggravated he became. Why was it so fucking hard to find you? It took him several failed attempts until he finally lightly pushed open the door to a room seeping with light. He peered in and saw you sleeping soundly on the bed, clutching a stuffed bear tightly to your chest. How cute, you were scared of the dark and slept with a bear, he thought to himself.

Aegon wasted no time welcoming himself inside and waltzing over to the side of the bed where you slept. He brushed a loc of your hair out of your face and admired how beautiful you looked, even while asleep. If he was totally honest, he could stay here and watch you sleep all night, but he had things he needed to do.

“Hey princess,” he spoke softly as he nudged your shoulder. Unlike him, you were an extremely light sleeper. You opened your eyes and they immediately shot wide open. You attempted to let out a scream at the intruder, but he swiftly shoved his hand onto your mouth. “Shhh! Shhh, it’s just me. It’s Aegon.”

Your face relaxed and you blinked your eyes a few times trying to decipher if this was a dream or reality. “Aegon,” you murmured into the palm of his hand. “I’ll let go if you swear to be quiet. Promise?” You nodded your head and he slowly pulled back; a wide grin plastered over his face showcasing his perfectly even teeth. “Good morning, princess.”

You rubbed your eyes and peered over to the window. “It’s still nighttime…” you drawled into a yawn. “I know, it’s the only time you’re alone.” You sat up on your bed, “I’m sorry it’s just-” your words were stuck in your throat as he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face again. His eyes were completely memorizing, and he touched you with the gentleness only your mother did. “No need to be sorry, princess. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Y-yeah.” Aegon stood up off the floor and handed you a cloak he had balled up in his lap. You raised an eyebrow at him and pulled it towards. “You don’t ever get to leave right? Well, I leave all the time so I thought I could take you into the city for some fun.”

Your face lit up, you could finally leave and see what’s outside these dull walls. But there was an aching sensation at the back of your head. The sound of your mother's voice telling you what not to do. The fear of disappointing her was strong and the fear of potential punishment even stronger. “I- I can’t. My mother would be furious.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Besides, you wouldn’t want to make me cry, would you? I- I just thought you would want to spend time with me.” His blue eyes peered up at you with the same heart wrenching expression as the other day. It was manipulative, he knew but it worked every time. “I won’t tell anyone, " you said in a nervous whisper.

His frown quickly grew into a wide smile, flashing wolf life teeth. Aegon’s eyes had a mischievous glint behind him when he spoke, “good girl, put this on.” The nickname sent a shiver down your spine. A very subtle, almost unnoticeable feeling of butterflies filled your stomach. You blushed and nodded your head in agreement.

It didn’t take long for Aegon to grab your hand and whisk you far away from where you were meant to be. You clung to his arm as you both scurried through the dark corridors. The farther you went the smell of dust and cow dung intensified as did the conversation of city folk outside the walls.

The streets of King’s Landing were dirty but so much more alive than you ever thought they could be. It was the hour of the bat and yet the streets were bright with fires lit at every corner. The streets were crammed with people from all walks of life, travelers, merchants, witches, performers, whores, musicians, and knights. It was quite the spectacle for a young girl who had been confined to a castle.

Aegon was reveling in your excitement and awe, still blissfully unaware of the depravity that shrouded these streets. Your voice carried the joy only of someone as innocent to the world as you could possess. It was fucking magical how you gazed up at him like he was your savior.

To his surprise, you babbled about more than any girl he’d ever met. It should be annoying, but he was drowning in the presence of your voice and the way your fingers would squeeze his own when the topic turned to something that moved you. You had completely captured him with your accidental charm.

But as the night went on his original scheme drifted into the back of his like a distant memory. Aegon couldn’t take you where he wanted, you were too good for it. The prying eyes of others would probably send him into a blind rage anyway. It was already beginning to build as random passersby simply looked at you.

To avoid a possible murder or maiming he whisked you away to a final destination. Aegon told you people here eat, drink and play music here until the dawn rises. There were musicians and poets singing while people danced around them. Men and women were laughing and drowning themselves in what you presumed could only be wine. There were several dragon shaped lanterns that occasionally spewed fire lighting the corner of the world you reside in.

It was pretty spectacular in the eyes of a girl. But it was also the place where your inevitable downfall began. It started with a glass of ale, not wine, that Aegon offered you. It burned your throat as you swallowed it, whatever you had made him chuckle and use that nickname again. It inspired you to drink more and keep receiving soft praises from your uncle.

You could feel it flow through your body slowly warming your insides and sending a slight tingly sensation in your limbs. That’s when the music started to sound good enough to dance. You bounced around Aegon in possibly the worst showing of dance moves he’d ever seen. It was cute though, to him at least.

That’s when you decided to drink more and fully let go of whatever expectations of a princess rested in the back of your mind. One, two, three, you lost count after the first. Aeggy refused to dance but he occasionally twirled you around and let you hang onto his shoulders.

As time passed on so did any semblance of sobriety you had left. Your words were slurring together, and your movements became sloppy, the ability to stand was nearly completely lost. That’s when Aegon declared it was time to bring you home. At first, you tried to reject the idea and fight back, but your muscles were just as weak as your mind.

He lifted you and wrapped your legs around his waist so he could carry your little self-home. It was okay, at first being carried by Aegon. But then you began to feel his breath on your neck sending goosebumps through your body. The low whisper of his voice telling you sweet things echoing in the walls of your mind. Then came a new feeling between your legs when his lips brushed against your ears ever so slightly. Every sensation was heightened to a point it had never reached before.

It was a warm ache between your legs that kept getting worse the longer you were wrapped around him. You were worried, what if the wetness between your legs was your moonblood. How insanely embarrassing would that be if you bled on your uncle? You tried to untangle yourself, but he put two firm hands onto your waist and pulled you back in.

The sudden friction between your legs caused you to yelp, a quiet yelp that did not go unnoticed. He paused his steps, glancing at you avoiding his eyes then back at the street to the keep. His lips slowly curled into a smirk only he could wear so well. Aegon didn’t say anything the entire way back home, though a million things were racing through his mind.

The walk home was agonizing, every once in a while, he would move in a way that sent electricity from your core to the depths of your stomach. You didn’t even notice the tiny few whimpers that came from your throat, but he did. Oh, Aegon was noticing it all, every sound, every movement, every look, the warm feeling between your legs that was growing damp across his waist, and it was driving him mad.

He should have been a good little prince and placed you on your bed and left but he had never been a good prince. Aegon wanted to know how far he could take it before you melted beneath him. Obviously, like a good uncle he helped you undress into your night clothes since you were too drunk to do anything.

“Come on, princess. Time to lay down.” You begrudgingly threw yourself onto the bed and rolled onto your back. You couldn’t sleep, your undergarments were uncomfortably wet, and the ache continued to get worse. You obviously couldn’t tell him any of this, so you laid there, suffering.

Unexpectedly Aegon climbed into bed he was on top of you, his knee moved to press in between your legs and your eyes widened from their half-lidded state. “Are you okay, niece? You look… frustrated.” His face was plastered in fake concern, though you couldn’t tell. You clenched your legs together trying to prevent him from moving. “I-I’m fine,” Aegon moved his knee to rub against your core just once, your legs unconsciously tightened around him. “U-uncle,” you stuttered out in a near whimper.

“If there’s something wrong, I can help you…” He moved his knee into your core, and you bit down onto your lip trying to stifle the sound threatening to come out. Aegon, though a good actor could not hide the glint behind his eyes. He leaned into you, pulling your lip out from your teeth with thumb. “I can show you what helps me feel better.”

He whispered lowly, you didn’t have time to think, or reply before his lips were connecting to yours. The taste of sweet mead filling your mouth. You attempted to push him back, tell him no, this was wrong, and you could get in so much trouble. But the feeling of his legs between yours was easing whatever plagued you.

He slipped his tongue down your throat and entangled it with your own. The feeling of need was becoming too much so you moved your hips, finally. A soft moan forced itself out of your throat as you desperately tried to move against, aching for something you didn’t understand. A few tears slipped from your eye wetting his cheek.

Aegon chuckled into your mouth before pulling back, you whined at the loss of both his lips and his knee. The throbbing feeling between your legs became increasingly worse every second he wasn’t there. “It aches, doesn’t it?” Your face flushed red as your eyes bore into him, the true image of innocence laid out beneath him.

His hand traveled from your cheek to the hem of your dress bunched up at the ends of your thighs. Aegon slipped his hand underneath the fabric and hovered over your cunt. You grabbed his hand and stopped his movements, “N-no we can’t.” He cocked an eyebrow, “why not? You hurt and I’m the only one who can fix it.” Your grip on his hand slowly relented, “but i-it’s inappropriate.”

Aegon forced his hand forward so he could cup your cunt. It was completely soaked and so needy for release, how could he stop? “No, it’s not. I’m your uncle and it’s my job to take care of my sweet niece.” You bit your lip in contemplation, the feeling of his palm on your clit made you want to cry. It was too much, the feeling in your core was too much. “Please, Aeg.”

He crushed his lips into yours forcing all the breath out of your lungs. His fingers slid up and down your slit collecting your wetness on his finger. His other hand moved to palm your dress and pinch your nipples beneath your gown. Your moans threatened to echo throughout the keep but he swallowed each one with his lips.

Aegon forced one finger inside your cunt and immediately you clenched around him. Gods, you were so fucking tight he would have to force in the second. Your back arched as he moved his fingers to hit the spongy spot inside. The feeling of your core tightening was overwhelming, tears began to stream from your face and your nails dug into his shoulder.

Your hips moved unconsciously into his hand, pleading for release. His thumb moved to rubbed circles around your clit and all thoughts you had were dumbed down. “A-aeg!” You whimpered into his mouth; the coil tightening was overwhelming all of your senses. The sounds of his fingers pulling in and out of your dripping cunt were filling the room.

“Be a good girl and cum for me, princess.” His movements were faster, harsher and more desperate than before. “P-p-please,” you stuttered out in a loud moan as your legs began to clench around his hand. He growled, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. “Cum on my fingers, baby. That’s right, be a good fucking girl for your uncle.” His fingers curled up and pressed deep into the spongy spot inside you. You felt your cunt clench around him, your core tightening harder than before until the coil broke. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your body began to shake and the feeling of ecstasy washed over you.

You crashed, your legs twitching as he continued to move circles around your sensitive clit. Aegon pulled his fingers out and your body mourned the loss of him. He wiped his hand on his clothes and bent his head down to place kisses all over your face. “You did so good, princess.” He spoke in between the pecks he placed on your face.

“Aeg… I’m tired.” Your body was limp, and your eyes began to close on their own. “Shh, go to sleep, princess. I’ll clean you up.” And he did exactly what he said, surprisingly. He took the time out of his night to carefully clean up the mess he made on your body and clothes. It was pathetic to admit but at some point, he came in his trousers, and it was leaking out onto your clothes.

So, he had to change you. Aegon didn’t mind, watching you sleep so peacefully and taking care of his little angel was nice. Especially after what you had given him. He stayed the night, watching you sleep peacefully until the sun rose over the horizon and he scurried into his own room.

It became a horrible routine between the two of you. Aegon convinced you only he could make you feel that way, so you had to come to him if you wanted it. He would always visit at night, though most times you simply stayed inside. He touched you in places that were meant to be forbidden and you came undone beneath him… repeatedly.

You enjoyed him for more than that though. Unlike your brothers or other family, he was always there. Always teaching and showing you exciting new things, making you laugh constantly, showering you with affection you received from no one else. He worshiped you in his own way.

Aegon was completely addicted, and it was going to kill him eventually. If you weren’t awake when he came, he would just sit and watch you sleep, occasionally taking his place besides you. If you were awake, he craved your attention and your body… and he always got it. You were so kind and loving towards him, completely unaware of how others viewed him. You told him you loved him, were proud of him and he was a good man.

No one had ever said those words to him before. It’s why the addiction started and why it had no chance of ending soon. When he was upset you kissed him and whispered words of encouragement. You went out of your way to make him feel happy and deserving of the life he had. And it’s why, for a short time, his behavior started to improve drastically.

It shocked essentially everyone around him, especially his mother. For a moment she was almost proud, maybe her speeches finally got to him, and he was taking being a king seriously. That was before Aegon told her he was only behaving this way so he could prove to Rhaenyra, he deserved you. The situation caused a whole different type of stress for Alicent.

Things were looking up anyway. Especially since your mother had officially started letting you out on your own. You were now a teenager and had to learn some type of independence. The dragon pit was your favorite place even though your mount was a lazy bum.

Plus, you got to spend lots of time in the pit with your uncle and you got to watch him train with the other boys. Of course, a few people noticed the way you watched him and how he watched you. It was kept quiet, as far as anyone knew you had no relationship.

Aegon, thankfully, found enough self-control to not fuck you. To do enough to keep you attached to him but not enough to ruin your innocence completely. It was hard to explain how exactly he felt. It was like he needed you to breathe or eat or do anything. It was bordering on a very unhealthy obsession combined with genuine fondness.

It was new and it was perfect. He was no longer lost in this world with nothing to live for.

Until the day you abandoned him for Dragonstone. He cried, a pathetic and desperate display to his mother asking for her to keep you here. He pleaded for them to just allow you to be wed, he begged to let you stay as her ward. He made promises he probably couldn’t keep but tried, nonetheless.

All he got was sympathy, it was out of her hands completely. The king and his whore sister made the decision to forbid a marriage. They made the decision to let you be sent away to that desolate, rain filled, and droll island. To make it worse the gods decided to spite him and have him betrothed to his own sister.

He almost immediately got worse the second you boarded the ship. Aegon fell right back into his old habits of whoring, drinking and being a massive cunt. The shift was bound to happen so no one was surprised but it was becoming increasingly impossible to keep him under control. Everyone else fell back into their old habits of beating and berating him any chance they got…

Aegon only ever really felt happy again when he drifted off in his sleep. He could feel, touch, hear and smell you again in his dreams. For a few hours every night he was back in your room making stupid jests only you would laugh at. It was like heaven every time he closed his eyes… Then he woke up.

To ease his suffering, he fisted his cock while smelling the clothes you had left behind pretending it was you. If not that he would get drunk and imagine all the ways he could kill your mother and his so, he could steal you away. One day, he would take something from them that they truly loved so they could understand exactly how he felt. For now, he tormented Aemond and did everything in his power to piss his parents off.

Luckily for Aegon and those close to him, Laena Velaryon died in childbirth and his chance to be reunited came sooner than expected. The ride on Sunfyre was one of the best he’s had in ages. It was as if he could sense who they were seeing and was absorbing his rider's excitement. It seems important to mention Sunfyre has a fondness of your she-dragon who he may or may not have tried to breed on several occasions.

The funeral was fucking boring. He didn’t know anyone there and didn’t really care either. Aegon spent most of the time ignoring the speech and scanning the crowd for your little form. He didn’t find you, so he fled into a corner with his wine and brother close on his tail.

Your mother was stalking about staring at Daemon, Helaena was mumbling riddles to herself while playing with a bug, the bastards were comforting the Velaryons, and Aemond was on his left half asleep. Where in the seven hells was his little princess? As the sky began to cover itself in a shade of gray, he spotted you.

For a sliver of a second he was overjoyed, he dropped his wine and stood up straight preparing to walk over. The crowd began to dissipate and on your right was a young Velaryon boy with his arm wrapped around you showing off whatever was in his hands. His eye twitched and his firsts unconsciously bawled up til his knuckles turned white. Aemond peeked over and scoffed, “it’s a waste of time.”

“I’m gonna kill him.” Aemond rolled his eyes and slumped back into the wall. His obsession with the bastard was beyond him but everything his brother does is beyond him. Aegon spent the rest of his funeral staring daggers into the boys next to you. He was making you laugh and touching you far too much for his liking. Jealousy, rage, hate, hurt, Aegon couldn’t put a name to everything that was boiling inside his stomach, but it was too much. You hadn’t even fucking glanced in his direction the entire night.

It is rumored by the maesters later that night King Aegon took his first life by feeding an unsuspecting boy to his dragon. Others claim the boy simply drowned in the high tide that night and was washed away to sea. The body was never found so no one truly knows… Aemond, personally and wholeheartedly believed his brother pushed the boy into the water and let him sink. Driftmark no matter how you looked at it was a terrible night for all involved.

The hour of the bat, a time of night you learned to love dearly was now a time of loneliness. Dragonstone was incredibly terrible especially since your uncle was nowhere in those walls. You were severely depressed to say the very least. You knew he was coming today and wanted to seek him out but failed to find him.

It didn’t stop you from sneaking out at night in a very desperate search for him. It took around twenty minutes for you to weasel your way through Driftmark to his supposed chambers. You ran full force into Aemond on the way which made you both fall to the ground. He was going to try and claim that damned dragon you saw him watching her all day and you were going to reunite with your uncle-lover. Both of you would be in the deepest shit known to man if anyone found out.

So, a silent pact was made to tell no one where either was going. You knew it was a real deal because he helped you off the floor and nodded his head in the direction of the room you were trying to find. ‘Good luck,’ you whispered quietly as you both scurried off in opposite directions.

Much to your dismay he was passed out drunk. You had to literally shake him awake. “Aeg… Aegon!” You climbed on top of him and shook his shoulders. He moaned, groaned, tried to push you away but you were determined. “Wake up! We don’t have all night.” You swore you saw his ears perk up like a dog. His eyes opened and he shot up in bed nearly knocking you off.

“You!” He grabbed ahold of your face, squishing your cheeks in his hands. “Yes, it’s me! Where the hell have you been all day?” Aegon looked offended and almost betrayed, “where have I been? Watching you swoon over some Velaryon cunt.” You scoffed, “watching me? I looked for you all day! I had to give up and talk to a cousin I barely knew.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, “if you barely knew him then why was he all over you?” You grabbed his face, “if you paid any attention, I was trying to escape him the entire time.” Hm, he could have been blinded by jealousy and didn’t notice you politely backing away and avoiding the kid’s eyes completely. He thought you were acting shy and coy, but this made sense.

“You still love me?” He did this more often while drunk. If he ever felt insecure his blue eyes would turn pale and start to water. His lips puffed out slightly and he bore into your soul begging for consolation. You knew the quickest way to make his fears go away.

You pressed a kiss on his lips, trying to drink away all of his fears. Aegon pulled your face as close as possible, sucking all the air from your lungs. Your lips danced around each other passionately trying to make up for the time apart.

“I still love you, Aeggy.” You murmured into his lips; a faint grin formed on his mouth. With his eyes half lidded he whispered, “prove it to everyone then.” You chuckled softly; a soft look of confusion plastered on your features. “How do we do that?” His hands slipped down to your waist, then to your thighs rubbing them slightly. “Give me all of you before they take you away.”

There was a deafening pause in both of your movements. The amount of trouble you would both get into would be life altering. Losing your maidenhood to someone who you weren’t wed to was a sin, a crime even. “So, you don’t really love me. You don’t even trust me enough with yourself.”

It felt like a sword was plunged through your heart. Of course, you loved him. Of course, you wanted to give him everything. “T-that’s not-” he released his hold on your thighs and ripped his face away from yours. “Get out.” You grabbed his hands and tried to pull them back to you, “Aegon please this isn’t-” His eyes turned dark, his hands were ripped out of your grasp. “Don’t lie to me. You used me and now you’re discarding me just like everyone else.”

Tears began to prickle at the corner of your eyes. You never ever used him; you loved him with all your heart. There was never another person who made you feel the same way he did. “Please, I love you,” your lips trembled while you spoke. “I don’t love you.”

You shook your head no, no, no, no, no, your entire world came crashing down at once. The sword in your heart ripped it in half. Your breath quickened and your arms began to shake. The tears that threatened to fall came pouring out of your eyes. “Please- pleas- I love you- please- you can have it- anything you want please don’t leave me.” Your cries were near incoherent.

He was evil, this was the absolute proof of it. Aegon knew he was lying to have you; he knew exactly what hold he had over you and did it anyway. You just couldn’t understand, if he took your maidenhead, you could be together forever. He wasn’t just doing this for himself, it was for both of your sakes. It was blisteringly obvious he would never stop loving you.

“Shh, don’t cry, I’m sorry.” He pulled you into his chest and combed his slender fingers through your hair. “We’re going to be together forever, okay? I'm never leaving you.” He lifted your chin up so you were looking at him. Even when you cried you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. “Let me show you how much I love you.” You nodded your head desperately.

It took minutes before you were laid out flat on the bed. He lifted your legs over his shoulders and buried his tongue inside your core. It was new and the pleasure was radiating throughout your body faster than before. Aegon swirled his tongue in circle around your clit as he brutally fucked you with his fingers.

Your hips bucked up to meet his face and he growled a response. The vibrations sent waves of heat through your veins. Your thighs clenched around his head as your orgasm began to wash over you, far quicker than ever before. You cried out at the feeling of the coil coming undone in your stomach. You could feel his lips form into a smile, he placed kisses onto your sensitive clit causing you to whimper. It wasn’t over, he had just started.

Aegon pulled away and you whined at the loss of his heat on top of you. Then you heard the sound of his trousers being pulled off, you looked away out of politeness. “Don’t be shy, baby. It’s all yours.” You pulled your head off of the pillow and your eyes widened. Aegon was thick, incredibly thick and you couldn’t imagine how that was going to fit inside you.

His tip was a bruising pink, and you could see his seed already beginning to leak out. It looked painfully hard as his veins popped out. He climbed on top of you without a moment's notice and rubbed himself against your dripping slit. “Aegon,” you whined as he teased your entrance.

Aegon leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. He prodded your entrance, “just be a good girl for me. It will only hurt for a second, I promise.” You tried to open your mouth to reply but an incredibly loud scream escaped your lips as he slowly began forcing himself inside. “Gods, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned under his breath.

The sensation of being filled to the brim made your eyes roll into the back of your head. Aegon moved painfully slowly, thrusting himself in and out of you. You moaned incoherently as his tip pushed into that spot inside of you. What started out as pain was quickly turning into pleasure.

You wanted him deeper inside you, you needed him to fill you completely. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you pulled him into you. He moaned as your cunt swallowed his length entirely. “So needy for my cock, princess.” You whimpered breathlessly underneath him, “please Aegon.” He moved his hand to cup your face, so you were staring at him. Your eyes were blown out in desire and your face was flushed a deep shade of red.

It was as if Aphrodite was underneath him begging for him to fuck her. “That’s a good girl begging for me.” His thrusts started to become faster, and your mind began going numb. Your cunt clenched around him as your eyes welled with tears. “Yes! uncle, please. Please!” You stuttered between moans and whimpers.

His lips crashed into yours stifling your moans as he forced himself deeper inside you at a bruising pace. His cock pounded against your cervix and not even his lips could fully swallow your moans. You wrapped your arms around his neck and dug your fingers into his shoulders. “Fuck baby, you’re so perfect for me.” Aegon’s praise made you whimper for more.

His cock was throbbing inside you, his seed threatening to spill at any moment. “My good girl,” he moaned into your ear, putting emphasis on ‘my’. Your entire body was going limp beneath him. The friction of his skin rubbing against your clit caused you to start coming undone.

“Aeg- aegon- please cum for me.” He never expected those words to pour from your mouth like a carefully constructed melody. Aegon dipped his head into the crook of your neck and began to whine as you clenched around him. As your core began to tighten you moaned a symphony, “I love you, I love you, I love you-”

Aegon picked up his pace, brutally fucking you with every ounce of energy he had. You felt the heat in your core turn into a fire as ecstasy started to wash over you. Your cunt clenching hard trying to drain every ounce of him.

The door slammed open “My Prince! It’s urgent-” Both of your heads shot to the entrance, staring at the mortified king’s guard whose eyes were boring into you. Oh, you were completely fucked.

Silence, the walk to the grand hall of Driftmark was completely silent. The guard behind you refusing to make eye contact with either of you. You could barely walk straight; your body was sore, and wetness was dripping down your legs.

All you could do right now was pray to the gods he didn’t snitch. Your hair was a mess, sweat was glistening on your faces, your night clothes were a mess, Aegon probably had your juices still on him, your cheeks were flushed a bright red and your lips were bruised… you were done for.

Although, as you entered the hall you noticed everyone else looked far worse than you. You noticed your brother’s bloody faces first and rushed over to them. Aegon immediately wanted to die the second you left his side. He wasn’t concerned at all; this was meant to be found out about.

Except, why now of all fucking nights. His brother had been maimed by your bastard brothers and his mother was in a frenzy. All he could do was stare at him in shock, the feeling of guilt washing over him. Aegon should have been there for Aemond, he should have saved him.

He glanced at you and your brothers were looking at you in disgust. Even when you reached out to comfort them, they pushed you away. Bastards, vile disgusting bastards.

It only got worse from there. Your mother came rushing in, obviously after fucking her uncle. He wanted to laugh, like mother like daughter. His mother was frantic demanding for justice, Rhaenyra screeching bullshit and you tucking yourself behind everyone.

Then the question was asked. “Aegon! Where were you?!” He didn’t even get a chance to reply before the king’s guard swooped in to make matters worse. “He was in his room, your grace… with the princess.” His head nodded towards you, and you looked absolutely mortified.

He should have waited to take it, he should have never made you do anything. Everyone in the room stared at you, just you. It took mere seconds for Rhaenyra to see exactly what had happened, only fueling her fury. Alicent, on the other hand, looked even more upset. The slap she so harshly laid across his face echoed throughout the room, completely silencing it.

There would be no justice since he had chosen the perfect day to defile the king’s favorite grandchild and his sister’s favorite child. You should hate him; you should want him dead. “Who told you these lies boy?” His father’s voice was filled with venom. “Aegon.” His father’s eyes turned dark as he tried to limp his way over to him.

“That’s not true! I told him… both of them.” A soft, quiet voice from the other side of the room caught everyone’s attention. You were defending him against the wrath of your family when he had just quite possibly ruined your reputation. If his obsession was bad, then it definitely got a thousand times worse at that moment.

Everything that happened after that was a complete blur. Insults were thrown, threats were laid out, his mother pulled a knife on his sister, and you fled the scene with your head down. It was like a fucking fever dream that didn’t seem to end.

It got worse the next day. The verbal assault he received from his mother was one for the history books. As was the slap that turned into a giant bruise on his cheek. Aegon was absolutely banished from ever talking, touching, or breathing near you. Any attempt at reaching out would immediately be cut down. His father said nothing of it, probably realizing his mistake in not wedding you sooner. Even Aemond, who should have despised him, forgave him.

It didn’t matter what they thought, he loved you, he wanted you, he needed you, and he was going to fucking have you. Aegon realized several things that night. You needed to be saved from your family as quickly as possible. The bastards and his whore sister needed to die sooner than late. Lastly, he was going to become king no matter what he did.

You were forbidden from ever speaking to Aegon again. It was awkward to say the least when you had to tell your mother everything. She should have been mad, hit you, yelled at you but she only hugged you when you cried. Your mother knew you didn’t tell anyone you were bastards. She knew you wouldn’t lose your maidenhead unless you truly believe they loved you. However, it was a secret that you could never ever tell anyone else.

You can never repeat what you said that night, but it was okay, you only wanted to protect who you loved. She explained how Aegon was taking advantage of you and men lie to get what they want. They prey on innocent girls, pretend to love them to get what they want, then discard them. Your mother repeatedly told you it wasn't your fault for your kind heart. She stated it was her own failure for not protecting you from it.

You didn’t truly believe it was all lies, at least, not all of it. It didn’t really matter now, he was gone forever, and you were alone on Driftmark.

Until you and your family would have to return to King’s Landing, five years later.

#aegon targaryen #dark aegon targaryen #yandere aegon targaryen #aegon the elder #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon angst #aegon fluff #aegon smut #aegon fic #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii smut #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii fic #hotd fic #aegon ii angst

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untoldstar · 4 months

Text

male yandere king x fem! witch reader x male yandere personal secretary Introductory fic

warnings: no yandere shenanigans here so no warnings really BUT this is an introductory fic the yandere themes will appear in later parts.

You’re roughly shoved forward by the two guards that chained you and dragged you all the way here in front of The Kings throne.

King Reid.

“This is her?” You keep your eyes averted refusing to look at him in fear you might not hold back your glare and have your eyes gouged out for that. You’ve heard bone chilling stories of how ruthless he can be and you aren’t about to test the truth behind those stories yourself “Yes sir.” A gruff voice sounds beside you “And you’re completely sure it’s her?” He asks his tone pressing “Positively.” You look up to see that he’s already staring at you intensely, his body stiff with anticipation "Hm..,very well then." The corner of his mouth lifts slightly and a glint appears in his eyes. He nods his head to your wrists and in the blink of an eyes the rope is cut off your wrists. You groan as you rub your red wrists, at least he didn't keep you tied up. He suddenly turns his head to the guards "Everyone out at once!" The guards hurry to sweep the room of everyone and following suite shutting the door after them, as the echo of the large wooden door slowly dissipates it dawns on you that you're completely alone now. At his mercy.

He doesn't say anything only rises from his chair and makes his way to a nearby table pouring a drink which you assume is wine based off the crimson color you caught a glimpse of "Care to join me?" You only shake your head when he glances at you "Suit yourself." He grins. Just what is he doing? You've been dragged here like some sack of potatoes, wrists bound, questions ignored, not an explanation spared and yet he's leisurely enjoying a glass of wine?

"I've heard much about you." He plops down on his seat with a sigh. You stay quite simply watching his movements "The infamous witch.." He swirls the liquid in his cups as he stares at you almost spacing out. You quirk a brow. Infamous? Since when? "You might not realize it but you've caused quite the stir." He hums raising the glass to his lips " I hear people have been desperately crawling to your doorstep to give them a glimpse of the future that awaits them, pleas to make them rich overnight, many people willing to pay you a fortune just so their unrequited love can be returned. What is it that you do, potions?" You internally roll your eyes, of course he'd assume that "Spells." You answer keeping your voice even "Ah of course, my apologies, that was quite the childish assumption." Your tense shoulders relax a little you see he wasn't mocking. He's actually embarrassed if his averted gaze is anything to go by "That's alright..it's a common misconception." You try to comfort "Is it really?" You nod "You'd be surprised to know some of the people who come to me also think that." He hums "Is that so? very well then." He seems pleased to see you talking more and letting your guard down even if only a little "Well anyhow, I'm sure you're wondering why you're here" He sets his glass aside and shifts in his seat "I've been..watching you and I think you could be of great help to me and my kingdom." You cross your arms "What would a king want with a witch?" He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped infront of him "I do admit it's not..usual for a king to seek out a witch but that's precisely why I'm doing this. I believe that with you're help this kingdom can flourish" His eyes gleam and you understand why. You can already think of many ways that could be accomplished but what exactly are his plans? "How exactly would that be achieved?" He seems relieved you're not immediately against the idea "Well, in so many ways of course. You would provide me a level of protection my own guards can't give me, you can help me persuade allies, keep away enemies and false allies who seek the fall of my kingdom." You're face shows no emotions as he rambles on passionately, his ideas aren't bad but you don't want to stroke a kings already inflated ego "We can do so much together.." He suddenly rises up and walks towards you "Don't you think so?" He whispers, his body so close to you, eyes pleading and you're almost in disbelief at how a king is the one persuading you and looking at you with such pleading eyes. "Yes that could all work..But why would I do this? Forgive me your majesty but..what exactly are you offering me?" He smirks, thankfully not seeming to be offended by your question. His prideful demeanor returning once again "Why, everything, my dear. You will live here with me in the castle, your room will be right by my quarters, anything you ask shall be granted, I'll personally make sure of it. It will be a completely new way of living. All will be yours as long as you say yes." You don't give an answer. Nothing is stopping you, you live alone, up till now work has been your focus and this..is work. But is he truly to be trusted?

"..I-" You flinch when he suddenly places his hands on your shoulders rubbing them, he must have sensed your tension "Why don't you take a tour of the castle and think very carefully of my offer? perhaps that could help you arrive to a judgment" Your stomach clenches when his eyes darken and his tone turns warning "You'll find that taking me up on my very generous offer will turn out to be in your favor." Something is defiantly wrong with him but perhaps it's best to be polite and go along with the tour for now at least. You slowly nod "Alright.." He beams "Excellent!" He turns around and rings a bell that's by his throne and Immediately you hear the large wooden doors behind you open. You look behind you to see a man enter, the distance between you doesn't allow you to discern his features fully or any other details except for his raven colored hair and the fact that he's close to your age if not the same if his voice and build is any indication. He bows his head "You called me, your majesty." You feel Reid place his hand on your lower back "Yes." He turns to you smiling "That's Marcus, he's my personal secretary, he'll be the one to accompany you on the tour." You knit your brows "It won't be you?" He lets out a low chuckle "No, my dear, I'm afraid I have a few pressing matter I must take care of but I'm quite flattered you were hoping to spend more time in my company." He ends in a teasing tone. Ugh, anything you say will be taken as flattery with him won't it?"

"Alright enough of that now, Marcus can take it from here. I shall see you after the tour." He nods at you, his smile a little strained now, he truly does hope you will come to the decision of staying afterwards. It would really be disappointing if you don't, your room is ready and your closet is filled with clothes designed specifically for you, he doesn't want his preparations to go to waste.

He also doesn't want to take certain measures into making you stay.

#yandere oc #yandere blog #yandere x reader #obsessive yandere #yandere #fem reader #yandere king x reader x personal secretary #yandere king x reader #yandere Reid #yandere Marcus #yandere introductory fic #fem witch reader #I low key hate this but let’s go

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yan-lorkai · 1 month

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Hello! I have a Black butler request if you don’t mind! (It can be yandere but If you can make it not to noticeable??? If that makes sense.)

If I may could I request a Ciel Phantomhive x Cruella De Vill reader? I mean not exactly like Cruella but the fact she was born with hair spilt between black and white, she owns multiple Dalmatians which are really aggressive guard dogs for her. And she has a wonderful sense of fashion, even though most her clothes are only black, white or red. She even has a nickname that combines her name and Cruel together (like “Cruel-(/N)”) because she can be really honest and it comes off as rude. She is short temper but unlike Cruella she is only occasionally sassy but most of the time she is quiet because she used to get made fun of for her hair.

Also I was hoping it would be a oneshot, with a few hc. But if that’s to much it can just be hc! Thank you and have a nice day!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I hope I did this rq justice because I absolutely loved it. Detailed rqs my beloveds. As you ask, I did some hcs and then wrote a little drabble, though I do apologize for such delay in answer it. Hope you like darling <33

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Platonic content. Maybe typos too.

☆*: In Ciel's ears, the news of a figure with two-tone hair who only dresses in black and red reaches him through gossip that Lau felt the need to share. The rumors, however, were not enough to capture the earl's attention at first. Who cares if Londoners are talking about this girl because she acts different and has a sharp tongue? Who cares if she has some protective dogs who can attack on command?

☆*: Certainly not Ciel. He has better things to worry about being the Queen's Watchdog besides running his own company. Gossip and rumors are not something that holds his attention unless they are related to the murderers who killed his parents.

☆*: So it takes a while before you finally get to know each other and he can get a glimpse of your strong genius. And heavens, he's enchanted, even if he doesn't know it, feelings aren't Ciel's thing. One thing he knows, this night will be one he would never forget.

...

Reluctantly, Ciel was participating in the celebration. A glass of juice in his hand as he watched each of the nobles approach the throne, kneel and say their rehearsed congratulations. So typical of nobles, so insincere. He hated it here, he could be doing so many things right in the comfort of his office. Still, he smiled and played his part when all adults around him looked down on him just because he was the only child here.

The starry night became filled with light and laughter; The Queen was throwing a party to celebrate another birthday well spent. Her age-kissed skin was still glowing, her eyes carrying a tinge of unforgettable joy, and her voice a jovial tone. As usual, she sat on her throne and waited for one by one the nobles to greet and boast about the gifts that were certainly better than the others.

It was funny to watch though. They all just seemed like jealous peacocks, huffing and puffing their feathers, wanting the queen attention on them.

Sebastian when can we leave? was what he wanted to ask to the butler at his side. What he almost asked. But right at that moment he heard a commotion.

A few meters ahead stood the notorious Cru-y/n DeVil, your presence commanding attention. Ciel couldn't help but be drawn to you, his gaze fixating on you with a mixture of intrigue and caution. Despite your reputation, he couldn't deny your beauty, a striking contrast to the darkness that surrounded your name. You were young, much like himself, yet exuded a confidence that belied your age, almost as if you too had to grown fast to protect yourself.

You seemed to be fighting a much older and powerful woman. The duchess who was always looking to fight someone and today had just found her new victim. But you aren't having any of that, making exaggerated gestures and smiling mockingly at the duchess.

Ciel observed the scene with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, at least the party turned out to be entertaining with this little fight happening and the queen was also watching you two too intently, curious, not at all bothered by it. Ciel couldn't help but roll his eyes when the duchess continued to argue and pointed her finger at you.

"Your hat is adorable" You say in a loud and clear tone, with the sweetest smile you can produce. "I'm sure it was worth sacrificing Big Bird, its poor beautiful yellow feathers wasted on this hat that perfectly fit your head."

A murmur starts around the two of you, some are laughing loudly, others are whispering among themselves, repeating what you said. The duchess, wanting to appear strong and resilient, fixes her khaki yellow hat - that barely fits in her head, lifts her chin an extra millimeter and leaves. However, Ciel knew that your comment would still haunt her for months to come. Today she had lost a fight and was insulted.

Undeniable was that the hat was horrendous.

Holding back a laugh that seems to want to escape him anyway, Ciel takes off his hat in greeting to you as soon as your eyes meet. He understood now why everyone was talking about you so much. To the court you were like a fresh breath of air, devastating if you hate it, great if you like it. And he absolutely like it. Not a lot of younger aristocrats behave this way and he really needs someone different to spend time, as Elizabeth is quite overwhelming with her affection and Sullivan is busy.

He approach you and with this gesture, plans to know more about you. He is now curious and his curiosity must be satisfied.

#yandere ciel #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere ciel x reader #yandere ciel phantomhive x reader #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #ciel phantomhive x reader #ciel x reader #kuroshitsuji ciel phantomhive #ciel phantomhive #fem reader #female reader #lorkai imagine

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zazter-den · 7 months

Text

Foul-Mouthed Frit | Stained Glass Circumstances Ch. 1

Series: Snippet #1, Snippet #2, Current

Synopsis- All stained glass begins as frit, but you're not as frit of the warrior in front of you as you probably should be.(Main Scene: Bakugou, Aftercare: Kirishima).

Warnings- Coerced NonCon, Oral Knotting, CumVom, Choking, Clothes Tearing, Degradation, Overstim, Org Denial, Slap(giving), Forced Bond, King/Consort Dynamic, Alt A/B/O, Yandere Bakugou.

Tags- Fantasy AU, BarbarianKing!Bakugou, Dragon!Kirishima, KingConsort!Reader, Black Haired Reader, Isekai, Creampie, Chin Grab, Excessive Seed, Aftercare.

Word Count- 7700, Chapter 1

Your heart thumped against your ribs, unease and curiosity battling it out, as you stood before the imposing blond warrior. On a good day, you couldn't help but feel out of place in the simple hand-me-down dress, a one of few mercies you received from the cold villagers when you arrived. Standing here in front of the decorated barbarian within the confines of the grandiose war tent, you felt dressed in little more than rags. Was this man here to finish the villager's sad attempt at uprising? Surely non-lethal injuries to a handful of soldiers, even if severe, didn't warrant a general's (or whoever's) presence.

Why am I here? I wasn't even involved.

The bodice of the scratchy dress felt nearly too tight to breathe, a physical pressure to match the growing weight of dread settling in your bones. It had been a month since your watery arrival to this world, but it hadn't taken long to miss your modern clothes, modern stressors, and the familiarity of home. A pang of longing shot through you like a static shock, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the intimidating figure ahead.

A shiver ran down your spine as you met the blond's piercing blood red gaze. His throne, made from the bones of fallen beasts long dead and a patterned patchwork of leather, only amplified the imposing aura surrounding him. With each passing moment, you couldn't help but feel like a small, insignificant creature in the presence of a predator.

"Pint-sized for a dragon, aren't ya?" the barbarian growled, his gruff voice boomed in the tense silence, tone heavy with amused disdain. A predatory smirk adorned his face, highlighting his intimidating yet undeniably attractive features. "You're quite the fuckin' anomaly."

Your eyes widened at his words, and for a moment you forgot your unease. You had become so used to the weight by this point that you honestly almost forgot. A hand instinctively went to touch the base of the draconic crystal horns that jutted back from your hairline, a bizzarre feature you had woken to on the lake shore, a side effect of the magic that had forced your entry to this unfamiliar world.

All of the lakeside villagers were human, but you had learned enough about this world's inhabitants to know that that you weren't a true dragon like the ones the citizens of this realm were familiar with—those with wings, a tail, and true dragon features. You are, at your core, still human, and really the horns were the only evidence to suggest otherwise. The asshole wasn't entirely wrong in calling you a mystery.

"Can tell you're no real dragon, some sorta bastard maybe" he remarked, rumbly voice smug. "Though I admit, those crystal horns of yours are intriguing 'nough. You'll pass as an addition to my collection."

You blinked once, twice, as you struggled for a mere second to process the words coming out of the pompous man's mouth before time seemed to resume again.

Should you have been scared? Probably.

But you weren't.

Your eyes narrowed to near slits with incredulity as you peered up at him. White hot anger filled your veins, fear of the undoubtedly dangerous strange warrior forgotten. Being a newcomer to the realm, you couldn't quite comprehend the gravity of the situation in standing before the man in front of you. Being an outsider to the village and their rebellion, also meant you weren't aware yet just how low cowards will sink to save their own skin.

" 'Collection'? " You repeated, scoffing loudly at his arrogance. The gall of him had your nerves shot and common sense short circuiting. All pretenses of appearing as a polite peasant were now firmly out the window, all bets were off. After a month of biting your tongue to rude villagers as you struggled to adjust to your new life, it felt amazing to spit exactly what you were thinking. "Who the fuck do you think you are, blondie?”

The fair haired barbarian's grin only widened at your boldness, relishing the rare occurance. It wasn't often someone had a big enough death wish to challenge him face to face.

"O, sweetheart, not just any 'blondie'," he sneered, weighing the weight his words had on you. "I'm yer fuckin' king." Enjoying the way shock washed over your face, anger clearly forgotten, overshadowed by the realization that you were standing before the most dangerous man in the kingdom.

King Bakugou's amusement was evident as he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction at your dumbstruck face. "D'ya wanna know why you're standin' in front of me?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "They offered ya to me, little anomaly," the barbaric royal continued, the corners of his lips curling into a cruel smile. "A barter for their miserable lives after a pitiful 'scuse of a rebellion."

You were shocked, your eyes meeting his with furious disbelief. "So, people I barely know, GAVE me to you to spare themselves?" your words were laced with anger and a sense of betrayal, unable to comprehend the depths of their craven desperation. Sure, they were cold to strangers, but to sacrifice you for their own lives wasn't something you had thought was even a possibility. Had it really been so foolish to want to believe they were finally warming up to you?

The barbarian king's expression hardened as he replied, his voice laced with a sharp edge. "Ya should feel honored," he snapped, his blood red eyes narrowing. Rising from his intimidating throne of giant bone and beast hide, he closed the distance between them with a purposeful stride. The sound of his heavy boots thudded against the packed ground within the war tent until he loomed over you.

“I rarely take consorts,” King Bakugou's hand shot out and firmly grasped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his piercing gaze. His touch was harsh, a firm reminder of the physical might that Bakugou wielded when he so chose. Your heart pounding in your chest as his fingernails dug into your jawline. Leaning in close, his face mere inches away from yours, his voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble as he continued speaking. “especially not runt freaks like you." The disdain in the cold blooded king's tone sent a chill down your spine.

Your heart dropped, The weight of the revelation pressed heavy against your chest. Mind racing with anger and betrayal as you grappled with the harsh reality of your situation. You had only been in this unfamiliar realm for barely a few weeks and now you stood before the formidable barbarian king, a man who held the power of life and death over countless warriors and civilians alike.

It didn't take years of education, or really much common sense, to know the dangerous consequences of defying a medieval tyrant. You knew you had to keep your anger in check, to try to bite your tongue and submit. At least for now.

Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped into that fucking tent, and survival was now officially the priority.

King Bakugou's sadistic enjoyment of the situation was plain as he ruthlessly analyzed your appearance, his gaze lingering on the translucent crystal horns with an almost dismissive glance. "Yer horns are clear, nothin' special," he remarked, his voice dripping with annoyance. It was clear that your unique crystalline features held little significance in his opinion. However, as his eyes roamed down your body, a more sinister gleam sparked within them.

"Body, on the other hand, is fine enough for a concubine," the blond added with a twisted smirk, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. The shift of the dress' neckline sent a shiver down your spine, baring your shoulder to his inspection. Your heart beat faster as King Bakugou's piercing eyes bore into you, his actions invasive and dehumanizing. Your throat constricted in response to the humiliating position you found yourself in. Even having to resist the urge to pull your chin away from his grasp, knowing that defiance would only lead to suffering of some variety.

His eyes swept over your neck and shoulder, searching for any sign of a scar, any indication that you already belonged to another. You kept your gaze to the side, unnerved by the intensity of his bloody stare, a shiver rippled down your spine as his touch almost seemed to burn your skin.

"Good," he declared, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as his hot breath ghosting over the exposed skin. "No claim."

King Bakugou wasted no time in closing the remaining distance. Swiftly leaning down, he sank his canines into the smooth flesh with a forceful bite. However, unlike true mating, the barbaric blond did not release the necessary venom that would solidify an actual bond between souls.

The lack of numbing venom caused a sharp hiss to escape your lips, a mix of agony and indignation flooding your system. You might not have been here long and you certainly were no expert, but you knew the basics of mating marks, this world's lifelong courtship. It was a deliberate move, a clear reinforcement that he had no intentions of making you his equal partner in this arrangement. After all, you were merely a plaything, to be toyed with. You should be thankful not to be bound to the barbarian's soul, and yet you couldn't ignore the obvious insult. Or the pain.

The unexpected stabbing pain of fang sinking into flesh triggered a reflexive response, causing you to shove and slap Bakugou's face in a desperate attempt to free yourself from his grasp. The crack of your palm connecting with his cheek seemed to echo in the massive war tent, leaving a bright red handprint in its wake and a streak of crimson trailing down the king's chin.

The barbarian's eyes glowed with fierce delight, his feral nature taking enjoyment in the defiance of his new concubine. Despite the stinging pain in his cheek and the split in the corner of his upper lip from the strike, a low chuckle escaped King Bakugou's lips. "You've got guts, shitty horns, I'll give ya that much" he growled, his voice laced with a dark amusement as his tongue flicked over his split lip.

If you thought your heart was racing before, it certainly paled to the drumbeat it was pounding now.

You had dared to challenge the king, to strike him in a moment of instinct. If the tyrant himself marched to this village over a few maimed soldiers, what exactly was your punishment going to be? A part of you regretted the impulsive action, aware that it would only fuel the bestial nature of the tyrant and likely add to your own suffering...But another part of you couldn't suppress the thrill that surged through you when you slapped the shit out of him. You might be trapped in this new situation but you refused to be completely meek, cowering at his feet.

You would submit. But only as much as you had to.

As King Bakugou's wicked chuckle echoed in the confines of the tent, he swiped away the droplets of blood that trickled down his split lip, relishing in the taste. "Spirited whore, ha?" he continued with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You'll learn. 'Til then, I'm gonna enjoy breaking that attitude of yours."

Your breathing grew shallow as you just stared at the king, mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You knew full well that true defiance would only bring more challenges, but still a small ember of resistance burned. You would not surrender completely, no matter the threat. And even bolstered with the courage of the dissociative haze that emotionally numbed you to the consequences of your actions, you still knew the danger was very real.

The red glistening imprint of his bite marked your delicate skin, a reminder of his sadistic tendencies and the cruel pleasure he derived from such acts. Your body trembled in frustration, mind grappling with the complex storm of emotions that threatened to take over reason. You may have to play the role forced on you but you would bide your time, until the opportunity presented itself.

And so began the balancing act.

"Your position, in this territory," the warrior king continued, his voice dripping with gruff superiority, "is t'be at my beck and call. You exist to serve my needs now, like any other fuckin' whore. An' rest assured, you will serve me well." With those words, he spun you around and pressed your abdomen hard against the tent's solid wood table, his hands gripping your hips possessively.

"Lemme show you your new role," Bakugou sneered, voice filled with dark promise. With one swift motion, he pulled the rough dress up to rest on your hips, baring your body to his gaze. His eyes hungrily took in your curves, his fingers ran up the exposed skin of your thighs and hips. Feeling his rough fingers trail over the sensitive areas of your thighs, you could feel yourself getting lost in the intensity of the touch.

The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as King Bakugou ripped apart the too-tight bodice, buttons popping off as your breasts spilled free from the barely reinforced fabric. His knees pressed painfully firm against the back of yours, effortlessly spreading your shaky legs apart. The motion trapped your hips against the edge of the table and exposed your pussy to to his gaze. Breath hitched as you felt the large tip of his hardened cock pressing against your slick entrance. Every inch of your body tensed. Judging from the thickness of his head alone, the lean warrior was larger than you expected him to be. Bakugou's girth tested your cunt's limits, forced to stretch wide. Initial entry was rough, inch by inch, as your pussy's tight walls struggled to accommodate the impressive length of the barbaric king's dick. The pleasurable ache making you fight to maintain composure.

Leaning forward on your forearms for support, your chest squished against the cold surface of the table. Fingernails dug into the smooth wood, your knuckles turning white with each of Bakugou's punishing thrusts. An unexpected surge of arousal coursed through your veins, and you decided to embrace the inevitable pleasure that his pace promised to bring.

Despite your feelings on the turn of events, your body responded to his coarse treatment, for the distracting orgasm and mind-numbing hormones that lay tantalizingly within reach. Determined to find some semblance of pleasure within your new prison, you forced yourself to shift your perspective. If you were going to be forced to be an object of desire, you may as well revel in the physical gratification it offered and claw back any benefit you could until you made your move.

As the table rocked against the packed dirt floor of the tent with each forceful thrust, the warrior royal couldn't resist mocking you. His voice was filled sadistic amusement. "Where'd all that fire go?" he taunted, amused by the contrast between your previous defiance and your current submissive state. "Don't tell me I already fucked it out of ya."

Your aching walls had struggled to accommodate his girth initially, causing you to tense up. You had to focus on consciously relaxing your body, allowing him to fuck you with more ease. The mixture of discomfort and increasing pleasure sent waves of heat coursing through your body, intensifying your arousal. At this point, you couldn't tell whether the fact that rough sex made your cunt leak like a faucet was a pro or a con.

You really couldn't help but snap back, voice loaded with a defiant edge. "You really like the sound of your own voice, huh, 'Your Highness'?" you quipped harshly, rolling your eyes knowing he would be unable to see, as you were swept up by the overwhelming pleasure of being fucked against the table.

Undeterred by your attempt at disrespect, Bakugou leaned forward over your bare back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The warrior king's voice dripped with amusement as he addressed your lack of fear. "You're really not scared of me, are ya?" the blond chuckled sharply, the feeling of his hot breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Give it time," he sneered, his grip on your erect nipples tightening as he pinched and pulled. With a choked moan, your body arched instinctively in response, a symphony of conflicting sensations flooding your body.

Your black curls bounced with each punishing thrust, your body pressed against the dull edge of the table, the hard surface digging into your hips with a force that promised to leave bruised reminders of your afternoon in the days to come. The brutal intensity behind Bakugou's movements overwhelmed you, leaving you breathless and at his mercy.

Just when you thought you had found a rhythm, just when you though you were getting close to finally cumming- the royal bastard abruptly withdrew, his cock's sizeable head dragging along the walls of your dripping passage. A soft indignant gasp escaped your lips as the sudden emptiness left you yearning for release. Inner walls involuntarily clenched in a futile attempt to hold onto the fleeting pleasure, not that you would ever admit it out loud.

He took a moment to enjoy your needy frustration before thrusting back inside with renewed intensity. Each powerful movement caused your body to arch and quiver in response, teetering on the razor's edge between ecstasy and torment. Despite the lingering defiance in your heart, your cunt betrayed you, subconsciously craving the pleasure that Bakugou pounded into you. The aching bite at the junction of your neck felt hot, as your nipples squeezed between his vice-like fingers.

Your walls eagerly embraced the renewed pounding, tightening around him in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pleasure he provided. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through your body, sparking sensations that threatened to consume entirely. As the table creaked under the combined weight, your gasps and moans filled the air, merging with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and groaning wood. The intensity of the king's pace, each thrust pushing you closer to cumming around the thick cock slamming in and out of your needy hole.

As your body neared the peak of pleasure, King Bakugou enjoyed the control he had over you, keeping that orgasm just out of reach. Each time you felt the pleasure building within you reach that breaking point, he would cruelly withdraw, denying you much needed relief. The frustration reached a boiling point,as your walls involuntarily clenched desperately around the thick ridge of his cockhead in a feeble attempt to keep it inside.

"Stop fucking teasing me!" you shot over your shoulder in irritation. The pleasure that coursed through your veins was distracting, clouding your mind and amplifying your need to cum. The denial of your orgasm left you on the edge in what felt like a perpetual state of yearning, body aching for the release that the feral blond held in his cruel grasp.

As King Bakugou repositioned himself, angling his thrusts to target your most sensitive spots, and the pleasurable torment of denial continued. The conflicting sensations pushed you further towards either heaven or hell. With how your legs trembled with both the overstimulation of your poor pussy's stretched walls and the unbearable need to cum, you weren't sure which you were closer to.

"Ha? Think ya forgot who serves who here," bloody eyes narrowing as he sneered, his arrogant tone held an unrestrained hunger. A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he drank in your frustration. He took great sadistic pleasure in this game. Knowing that, despite your protests, he had the power to bring you to the edge of cumming and keep. You. Trapped. There.

As the twisted dance between pleasure and denial continued, your body reacted eagerly to every movement, cunt walls fluttering near constantly in desperate need of fulfillment. Each time King Bakugou withdrew, your inner muscles clenched around the massive disappearing tip, another futile attempt to hold onto the pleasure that slipped through your grasp.

Wet, squelching sounds filled the air as he pounded back into your gushing pussy. The table beneath you was sticky with your juices, and his blood red gaze spotted a string of viscous slick suspended mid-air between the edge of the table and the packed dirt floor below.

With each turn of Bakugou's cruel cycle, a symphony of profanity spilled from your parted lips. Your body shook with the weight of unfulfilled lust, aching for the relief that seemed cruelly just out of reach. The rise and fall of your emotions danced in harmony with the motion of their bodies, humiliating frustration fueling your foul mouthed whimpers.

"'N fact," Bakugou laughed, gruff voice filled with sadistic glee, "I think that tongue o' yours has earned ya a punishment."

The barbarian's fingers curled around your quartz horns, his grip possessive and firm. As his grip tightened, you barely felt the dull ache spreading from the base of your horns through the haze of pleasure and overstimulation. The strain on your neck was evident, your head tilted back to reveal the garnet red bite print marring your exposed skin.

With a deliberate slowness, King Bakugou pulled back on your crystalline horns, his hold firmly guiding you until your upper body was no longer supported by the table's wooden surface. Weakened by the cruel cycle of ecstasy and denial imposed on you, your legs trembled with the effort to remain upright. The shift in position caused a head rush as you fought to remain standing upright. Turns out, you wouldn't need to fight that battle for long.

Using your horns as a guide, Bakugou yanked you down to kneel before him. Obediently following his command, your weakened knees sunk against the hard packed dirt beneath you. The shift in posture brought about a new level of submission, body now positioned at his feet, ready to fulfill the king's desires.

Bakugou's massive member hung heavy above you, his imposing figure towering over as he peered down with cruel superiority. "Ever get your mouth washed out with soap?" he sneered, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

With a snarky retort already forming on the tip of your tongue, you opened your mouth to deliver a biting response. However, in that moment of distraction, the massive cock head shoved past your lips, the sudden intrusion catching you off-guard. A muffled gag sound escaped your throat, eyes widening in surprise as King Bakugou claimed your mouth with little mercy. Musk filled your senses, the unexpected violation left you momentarily stunned. Your eyes watered as you struggled to accommodate his size, jaw stretched to its limits while King Bakugou hissed in pleasure at the feel of your hot tongue against his dick.

A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, muffled by Bakugou's large cock as he took advantage of the opening you unwittingly provided and began to thrust. The rough motion caused your tongue to press against the underside of the massive member, tasting both of you. The initial shock gave way to a mix of conflicting sensations - humiliation, arousal, and a begrudging surrender.

Your throat constricted around the tip of his dick as you fought against your body's instinctive gag reflex. The taste of your combined arousal filled your mouth, the combination of his precum and your own slick coating your tongue with every thrust. With each attempt, guided by the iron grip he held on your crystalline horns, you managed to swallow a little more of his length, throat stretching in an attempt to accommodate his girth. The barbaric king's control remained unyielding. He roughly guided your movements with an unwavering grip on your horns, forcing the pace at which you took him deeper. The sight of your struggle only made him grip you tighter, setting a faster pace.

You looked good, all fuckdrunk at his feet, submitting to his desires without question.

With each inch you took down your throat, your breathing became increasingly labored. Your eyes flitted upwards as much as possible, trying to meet his gaze as you continued to obey his every command. Teary eyes pleaded for mercy, yearning for the release that was just out of reach, as you continued to let King Bakugou's thrust into your throat. Bakugou locked gazes with you. It wasn't that he ignored your pitiful puppy eyes, all watery and unfocused, but it didn't certainly have the outcome you were begging for. His pace sped up, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax.

Your eyes narrowed in confusion and as you felt a new ridge near the base of his cock begin to swell. It took you by surprise, lips forced to start to form an O-shape as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. You mumbled uselessly around the resulting barrier, only managing to press your tongue harder against the enlarged gland.

"Never seen an alpha before?" King Bakugou asked incredulously, the tone of his voice heavy with pompous amusement. "Ya really are a fuckin' freak, this'll be fun" he added, sadistically excited for the surprise in store for you.

The swelling knot created a tight seal against your teeth, effectively trapping your tongue in a frenzy of desperate, frantic movements. As his lust hit a peak, Bakugou looked down at you with dark satisfaction, the intensity of his gaze piercing into your very being. His words cut through the pounding of blood in your ears, his mean grin widening.

"Y're gonna want to breathe through your nose when ya can," he instructed as his hips started to stutter, cruel grin never faltering. "For the next ten minutes at least." He took great joy in the power he held over you, knowing full well the challenge he was about to present. His groans of pleasure were the only warning of his orgasm that you got besides the pulse of his knot, before waves of warm cum were cascading down your throat. You fought against the rising panic, you just needed to relax you told yourself. The taste of his seed flooded the back of your throat, your lips stretched around his swollen knot, as you braced yourself to endure the minutes to come.

Your breathing grew ragged as you tried to comply with the barbaric king's instruction, the pressure of his spurts down your throat sending your body into a state of sensory overload. Each surge of his cum filled the back of your mouth, forcing you to swallow to make room for more, so you wouldn't be overwhelmed. Nose pressed against the coarse, orange wires of his pubic hair, your breaths coming in short gasps as you struggled to find enough air.

Your sore throat bobbed with each gulp, lips sealed tightly around Bakugou's pulsing knot. You followed his instructions, taking quick breaths through flared nostrils whenever his spurts allowed a moment of respite. As you continued to swallow the seemingly never-ending load, your eyes watered and throat contracted around the royal's throbbing cock. Bakugou ran his thumb over your neck, tracing over the ridge his twitching cockhead made in your throat, causing you to choke and sputter, your reflexive gag wrapped around his dick.

The primal sounds of you gagging and swallowing seemed to fuel Bakugou, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he reveled in your struggle to regain control of your reflexes. He found the cruel game fun, knowing that you had to drink every single drop or be overwhelmed by the seed that filled your mouth. As the barbaric king rolled his hips, his cock milked one last time by your tight walls, the deflating knot slipped past your teeth with a squelching pop. You felt each inch slowly withdraw from your pained throat, eliciting a mix of both relief and a weird sense of emptiness. Your jaw ached from the strain, throat raw and bruised from the rough treatment. Cum dripped from your swollen lips, a shiny string dripping towards the ground between your knees.

You leaned back against the leg of the heavy table, body boneless and weak from the intense sex. Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, senses still reeling from the experience. The taste of his cum still lingered in your mouth, a reminder of of just how well you had performed your role.

His cruel grin twisted with satisfaction as he held your weak chin with his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your glassy gaze to meet his blood red eyes. The arrogance in his voice was evident as he spoke, his words laced with a mocking tone.

"You did well, little whore," King Bakugou taunted, "Maybe you'll last longer than the others." His words cut through you like a knife, a reminder of your place and his complete control over the situation.

And it only got worse.

Your stomach churned, the fullness from consuming the sheer volume of cum you did, mixed with the exhaustion and strain on your body. It was rapidly becoming too much to bear. The taste of his bitter seed lingered in your mouth, adding to the increasing waves of nausea that welled up. With shaky legs, you bolted towards the clean bucket next to the table, a hand clamped over your mouth. Face contorted in anguish as you reached it just in time, hunching over and emptying the viscous contents of your stomach into the wood container, a curtain of dark curls obscuring the action.

Wave after wave of white, thick cum splashed into the bucket. Your throat burned even more from the forceful expulsion, tears streaming down your face as you tried to catch your breath between stomach spasms and hiccups.

Meanwhile, Bakugou simply rolled his crimson eyes in annoyance. He watched with a scowl as you succumbed to the ill effects of being orally knotted for first time, his own sense of satisfaction completely unaffected. The king redressed himself in his leather breeches, his muscular chest displayed proudly. He made no move to help or console you, instead commenting with a disdainful tone

"Y're gonna have to get better at that," he sneered, his dissatisfaction with the newest addition to his collection clear as day. Without a backward glance, he exited the tent, leaving you seething with roiling resentment.

As you continued to glare daggers at his retreating back over the rim of the bucket, an unbreakable determination burned in your eyes. The interaction had further solidified your disdain for the barbarian king. One way or another, you swore to yourself, you were going to find a way to make that man miserable.

Bakugou made his way through the field, his strides thudding quickly across the field. His blood red eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the lush greenery and wind rustling through the grass and leaves. In the distance, he spotted Captain Kirishima, his towering figure standing tall on a hill overlooking the lake.

The captain of the king's guard, tall and muscular, wore his signature dark grey uniform adorned with a crimson cloak denoting his station. His mane of long, vibrant red hair cascaded down his back, and his curved ruby horns glinted in the late afternoon light. Nearing a staggering seven feet, Kirishima towered over most humans and dragons alike. With a languid stretch of his wings and tail, he looked every bit the formidable dragon he was. Even though his stature was imposing- off the battlefield, there was a softness to his facial features, a warmth in his scarlet eyes that contradicted his formidable appearance.

Stretching his wings and tail with a contented yawn, Kirishima paused mid-spread as he noticed his long time friend approaching. His scarlet eyes widened in alarmed confusion as he caught sight of the split upper lip on the king's face.

"What happened to your lip?" Kirishima asked baffled, his tail and wings still unintentionally frozen extended as he waited.

Bakugou's grin widened, his blood-red eyes shining with a mischievous glint. He licked his split upper lip, savoring the sting that still lingered from your bold and unexpected slap. The memory of the defiance brought a twisted satisfaction to the king.

"Hah! The village's 'peace offering' turned out fiesty" he responded, a hint of admiration laced within his tone. The fact that you had the audacity to strike him, the mighty Murder King Bakugou, had caught the barbarian off guard at the time, but it definitely made you more interesting.

Kirishima's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, his tail flicking. "They attacked you?" he asked taken aback, “Are they still breathing?” The captain knew that the barbaric ruler was not one to tolerate defiance easily, let alone physical attempts to challenge his authority. Kirishima's mind flooded with questions, but he kept them to himself as he awaited further explanation from his commanding king.

Bakugou's smug grin widened even further, his blood red eyes sparkling with perverse delight. "Oh, they're alive," he responded, his voice dripping with a sadistic satisfaction, "Just paying for their little outburst, that's all."

The words hung in the air, the implication clear. The king's tone hinted at the punishment the new consort was enduring in the privacy of the tent.

Although he hadn't yet met the new concubine, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy towards them. Having grown up with the royal, he knew firsthand the levels of wrath Bakugou could reach. Despite these conflicting emotions, Kirishima's primary concern was ensuring the well-being of those in the king's care, even if it meant treading carefully in the sea of Bakugou's own volatile temper. It often fell to the loyal captain to keep the king from committing actions he would regret later. Well, less regret and more inconvenience him.

"'n fact, you're on babysitting duty while I deal with the village," Bakugou said, the murderous glint in his bloody eyes betraying his enjoyment of the situation. The king's command echoed in Kirishima's ears, causing his ruby scaled tail to stiffen and his broad shoulders to tense.

Kirishima let out a silent exhale, disappointment etched across his face as he processed the news. In truth, he had hoped that Bakugou would choose to spare the villagers and seek a peaceful resolution instead of resorting to violence. The captain believed that the actions of a few rebels should not warrant bloodshed on such a scale. After all, the villagers had made multiple peace offerings to appease the barbaric king, it felt like a breach of honor for Bakugou to now go back on that agreement.

However, Kirishima knew better than to openly challenge his friend's authority. He respected the position Bakugou held and understood the consequences of rebellion. Biting his tongue, Kirishima buried his disappointment and gave a casual bow to his commanding ruler, before making his way towards the tent on the hilltop.

Kirishima stepped into the large tent, his unfurled wings brushing against the side as he entered. His wings, magnificent and majestic, spanned wide, their vibrant ruby scales shimmering under the soft glow of the tent's filtered light. The ruby scales continued down the length of his long, sinuous tail, adding a touch of elegance to his formidable presence.

As his fiery ruby eyes landed on you, Kirishima's first thought was one of surprise. The person who had struck King Bakugou looked a lot less imposing than he had anticipated. You, unlike the powerful and intimidating dragons Kirishima was used to, stood before him at a mere average human stature. If that. The only discernible dragon feature you possessed were the crystal dragon horns that adorned your head, gleaming subtly in the low lit tent. His scaled tail swayed slightly, displaying a mix of curiosity and caution.

Your eyes widened as they met Kirishima's for the first time, and your body tensed instinctively. You had been thoroughly exhausted, both physically and emotionally, by your round with Bakugou. Your throat was raw and voice gone, leaving you unable to deliver the defiant expletives you desperately wanted to snarl at the imposing dragon that had just entered the tent. But your voice failed you, leaving you with only one avenue of expression.

With a fierce hiss, you expelled every ounce of ferocity you had left buried within. Your body tensed, lips curling back in a display of bare teeth. The hiss reverberated within the confines of the tent, a desperate attempt to communicate defiance to Kirishima, to convey that you would not be dominated or humiliated any further today.

The captain took a step back, scarlet eyes swept over your form, they couldn't help but notice the torn remnants of your bodice on the floor and the ripped dress clinging to your body. The rips and tears spoke volumes of the intense encounter you had undergone at the hands of King Bakugou. His gaze then landed on the mark that marred the delicate skin of your neck—an unmistakable claim.

Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mind reeling with the implications.

As a dragon, Kirishima understood the significance of such a bite - it bound two souls together, sealing their connection as life partners in a way that couldn't be severed. When done correctly.

Marking a consort with a claim without fully mating them was not unheard of, but it was generally met with extreme judgment. Claims in terms of mating were typically reserved for life partners, a commitment that extended beyond physical desire. Nobles, known for their fickle nature and ever-shifting loyalties, often chose to mark their consorts with more temporary symbols, such as collars.

The ornate collars allowed the royals to easily discard their concubines when they grew bored. The nobility were notorious for their fickleness and often left their consorts behind as they moved on to fresh pursuits. By marking a consort with a bite with no intention of making you an equal, Bakugou had not only defied what little merciful convention held by the upper class but also inflicted a cruel fate upon you in Kirishima's eyes. The mark would make it near impossible for you to find a true mate, forever branded as the king's property.

Kirishima couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment towards his lifelong friend. While he knew the barbarian ruler's tendencies on the battlefield, he hadn't thought Bakugou would exhibit such cruelty towards a consort, knowing you would likely be discarded at some point. Kirishima's own sense of honor and loyalty clashed with the conflicting emotions he felt, itching at the back of his mind as he observed the vulnerable state you found yourself in.

The captain's gaze lingered on your throat, noticing the subtle signs of strain and discomfort. The realization for the hissing aggression struck Kirishima like a bolt of lightning. You had lost your voice, and it wasn't due to natural causes or illness. No, it became clear to him that it was likely a result of your first tryst with King Bakugou, an experience that he could only imagine had been rough and brutal, throat rubbed raw from the repetitive acts demanded of you.

Feeling a surge of empathy, Captain Kirishima decided to ease the intimidating aura he unintentionally projected. He understood that his imposing stature must be overwhelming to you, given the turn of events. He folded his wings against his back, their vibrant red membranes pressed tightly together, confining their expansive span. The act served to minimize his physical presence, making him appear less threatening. He slouched slightly, adopting a more relaxed stance, and kept his hands visible, showing that he meant no harm. It was a deliberate display of non-aggression, aimed at putting you at ease, or at least as much at ease as one could be in such circumstances.

The red dragon's eyes softened as he noticed the weary look on your face. He could see the exhaustion etched into every line, body still trembling from the recent ordeals you had endured. Determined to offer some solace in this tumultuous situation, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

With slow deliberate steps, Kirishima moved away from you and towards a pile of chests near the entrance of the war tent. These chests contained spoils from the village, items meant to appease the king after their attack on his soldiers. Kirishima knew that among them, there was a chest filled with garments. Opening one of the chests, he carefully sifted through the contents until he found a fine yet simple dress that roughly matched your size.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kirishima's lips as he gently tossed the dress onto the table, positioning it between the tow of you. Its delicate fabric fluttering in the air before settling down over the wood. It was a small gesture, but meant to convey that he harbored no ill intentions.

It was a silent message that you deserved respect and dignity, even in this tumultuous situation.

Sensing that you needed some space to collect yourself and change, Kirishima took a much smaller chest from the pile. He left the tent, giving you room to breathe and reckon with the pent-up emotions that surely swirled like storm clouds.

As the cool mountain breeze blew through his hair, Kirishima found a suitable spot a few paces from the tent, overlooking the serene lake in the warm hues of late afternoon light. With deftness and precision, he constructed a small firepit, arranging the rocks in a circle. As the dragon exhaled softly, a gentle stream of fire escaped his lips, the light glinting off his curved ruby horns. The flickering flames danced and crackled, casting a comforting glow over the hilltop.

As the captain patiently waited for the water to heat, he glanced back towards the war tent, briefly catching sparkle of your horns through the opening. His heart went out to you. Though he understood the gravity of Bakugou's actions, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of responsibility in making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, despite the circumstances.

Just as the water in the kettle neared boiling, Kirishima activated his innate talent. His hands hardened, gaining an impressive durability that allowed him to handle the intense heat without harm. With a swift motion, he reached for the kettle, hands possessing the resilience of a dragon's scales. His grip was confident and steady as he effortlessly removed the kettle from the fire, preventing the water from boiling. He gently tossed the healing tea leaves into the kettle, watching as they swirled and danced in the near-boiling water. The soothing aroma of the tea began to waft through the air, carrying with it hints of delicate flowers and calming herbs.

With a careful hand, Kirishima reached into the tea chest, procuring a magnificent stained glass teacup that shimmered in hues of red and amber. Draconic stained glass was a rarity, prized for its strength and ethereal beauty. The light of the late sun cascaded through the vibrant colors, casting an enchanting glow on his hands.

Unwrapping the glass bottles, the captain uncorked the crystallized honey and yuzu peel. He slowly poured a generous amount of honey into the teacup, its golden texture illuminated by the sunlight. Next, he added a pinch of the fragrant dried yuzu peel, allowing its subtly sweet and citrusy scent to infuse the air. These ingredients held healing properties, meant to soothe and restore vitality to worn souls. The captain took extra care, ensuring that the precise balance of ingredients was met, creating a concoction that he hoped would bring some measure of comfort to your weary spirit.

With a quiet exhale, Kirishima patiently awaited the completion of the tea's steeping process. He hoped that the healing properties of the tea, combined with the warmth and tranquility of their surroundings, would provide a much-needed respite for your body and mind. In this moment of quiet reflection, he couldn't help but hope that this small act of kindness would bring some solace amidst the chaos that was now your new life in royal confines.

As the tantalizing fragrance of the healing tea filled the air, it didn't take long for you to emerge from the confines of the tent, eyes cautiously studying Kirishima's every move. Clad in the simple yet elegant dress he had provided you, features betraying a mix of cautious curiosity, before you fully exited the tent.

Scarlet eyes met yours as he poured the infused brew into the stained-glass teacup, the colors of the evening sun casting a mesmerizing glow through its amber and red hues. With a delicate touch, he extended the teacup towards you, his gentle gesture offering a sense of peace and comfort amongst the chaos.

Your gaze flickered between the beautiful teacup in Kirishima's hands and his eyes, wariness slowly giving way to a glimmer of trust. You lowered yourself onto the cushion placed by the fire, its warmth seeping through the fabric and into your tired body. Settling in, you positioned yourself to face the serene vista of the lake, where the calm waters mirrored the vibrant shades of the setting sun.

Kirishima, mindful of your nervous vigilance, kept his movements steady and reassuring. His hand extended further, confidently offering you the teacup of healing brew. The crimson colored light filtering through the stained glass seemed to dance and flicker as if carrying with it a promise of respite.

A soft smile tugged at Kirishima's lips as he spoke, his voice gentle yet filled with earnest sincerity. "Can we start over? I'm Captain Kirishima." In that simple statement, he hoped to convey that he was not just a guard but someone who, at their heart, genuinely cared. Someone who would listen and support you, should you choose to share your burdens.

He waited patiently, the teacup held delicately between the two of you, awaiting your response. In this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the lake and the tender offering of healing tea, he hoped that they could find a glimmer of solace and a fresh beginning.

IRL Safety Disclaimer: Never Pull A Partner Up By Their Hair Off of a Surface. You Will Injure Someone.

Taglist: @themythicaldisaster

Comments and Reblogs carry me through the week!

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simping-on-the-daily · 1 year

Text

i would freeze over hell just to get a chill

Summary: The boys have overblotted, but their defeat wasn't so quick. Rather, they spent much more time in their overblot forms, and you? You had a front row seat to it all. (The Overblot gang remembers their romantic interest towards you and keeps you by their side. Your only option is to stay by their side until help arrives.)

Warnings: Riddle injures himself with thorns and doesn't care, Leona scratches your face (to give you powers but still), general Overblot themes, not beta red we die like the overblotted dwarf from the prologue

Notes: READER IS NOT YUU; Yuu is gender-neutral and so is reader, and Reader will mention Yuu. Reader is from each of the boy's respective dorms,,,, Title is from Would You Love a Monsterman by Jodi, and characters might be OOC??? I doin't have the game but also we only get like. Two minutes with their Overblotted forms.

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar

Riddle Rosehearts

Many of your fellow dorm members would say that Riddle was a merciless dictator who believed himself to be the Queen of Hearts. On the surface level, one could agree, but you didn't, for the Queen of Hearts created the rules in the first place, and Riddle was simply following them.

However, with the most recent unbirthday tea party having gone horribly wrong, perhaps Riddle himself thought he was one of the Seven, and the entity that followed his every command was but a mere card soldier.

From what you knew, the main perpetrators of his Overblot had run away, seemingly to form a plan. A few first years who you had only talked to maybe once, the magicless student, and even the Vice-Housewarden yourself! (You said from what you know, which might have been deemed weird considering you were there at the tea party, but in your defense, the moment Riddle had an egg thrown at him, everything was a blur.)

The rest of the unlucky dorm members had Riddle's signature collars around their neck. Some were crying in fear of the ink-dripping entity, while others were forcing a smile in order to not trigger the newly Overblot Riddle's wrath. You were just about to accept your fate, when the glass headed minion grabbed you effortlessly, and put you right next to Riddle, who's arms were wrapped in ink and vines.

You were relieved to hear that no, you were not being executed, but that relief was replaced by a different kind of fear; the realization that Riddle Rosehearts had a crush on you.

In any other circumstance, you would've been overjoyed. You had hung out before, having sit next to each other while studying in the library, and you'd be lying if you said he hadn't piqued your romantic interest. But Riddle was overblot now, his mental state shattered just like the glass head of the ink entity, and you really didn't want to be the darling to a potential Yandere.

Thank fuck you weren't shoved into a cage.

Instead, with a flick of his fingers, Riddle summoned a throne made of roses and vines, thorns like there were on his outfit non-existent. A bigger one (with thorns) was placed right next to it.

"You shall be my side in this new world," Riddle's voice was almost demonic, yet you could still hear everything he said clearly "We shall sit on these thrones and gaze upon it all. Those who defy us will lose their heads! Wouldn't that just be beautiful, darling?"

So, you were forced onto the throne, cringing everytime the thorns on Riddle's throne sliced his skin. Screaming at all of his collared-roommates, he ordered them to bake both of your favorite meals and paint the roses and to slice their fingers on the thorny roses and to say that he was correct in all things; he just kept going on with new orders, and you could only look at them with pity everytime Riddle placed a new command down.

Some brave or stupid soul (you couldn't tell), talked back, snarking that Riddle's floating was to try and cover up for his small size. You heard a flamingo squawk admist the silence before Riddle screamed, before making it so the collar choked the lad, and you knew that was going to leave a scar. You couldn't feel bad for long, because Riddle started sobbing, throwing his head into your lap, leaning on his throne, and not showing any discomfort at the thorns piercing him harder. He sobbed and screamed, and you could only pat his head until one of the students came back with the requested tarts (not chestnut).

You hoped that those first years and Trey were doing all right and coming up with a plan. Because even if the entity gave you a beautiful red rose from the bush they were clutching, and Riddle stated that you were the only one he could trust, you knew that this wasn't Riddle and that being in this form hurt both his body and his brain. That magicless Prefect had grabbed a magestone from the abandoned mine and fought an entity just like the Queens of Hearts lookalike, hadn't they? They seemed smart and competent, and their friends were........brave.

So, in your head, you went against the rules, and begged for help.

Then the Overblotted Riddle screamed in your ear again, due to someone having walked too slow, before clutching your hand with a lot of force, murmuring frantic threats towards him as tears threatened to spill. (You would wake up the next morning to find that you had gotten splinters. Woohoo for you.)

Leona Kingscholar

The Spelldrive Competition this, Spelldrive Competition that; was this your punishment for being associated with a bunch of bully jocks?

Savanaclaw was not being subtle at all; in the security of the dormitory, they went on and on. 'With that champion from Scarabia gone and Housewarden Leona by our side, they'll never stand a chance against us!'

You were going to hit your head on the entrance's tree if they kept this up. They did keep it up. Whether you did so or not is up to you.

Perhaps it was kind of selfish of you, but Diasomnia was good at everything. They were the shiniest of gold, and even in the most roughest and toughest game of all, they still glimmered the prettiest shine. Maybe it was time someone else became the champion. And besides, you weren't competing. It wasn't like it was going to effect you.

....As the sand blinded your eyes and terrified screams destroyed your ear drum, you cursed yourself for jinxing it.

Your housewarden had a mental breakdown in front of the whole stadium, tried to kill the guy who was basically the vice-housewarden in all but name, and now he was talking about turning everything into sand- wait why is the glass lion looking at you?

The crack in the glass seemed to make an impromptu mouth, as it quickly put you inside of its jaw and sprinted back towards the Overblotted housewarden.

You were unceremoniously dropped onto the floor, ink now on your clothes. Being in the center of the sandstorm got every possible grain of dust into your eyes, and despite your deep squints, the large, floating form of an Overblotted Leona was as clear as day.

"Tch, and I thought you would go running like the rest of those weaklings."

Ah. The screams were all gone, and even throughout the sandy fog, you could see the silhouettes of the Ramshackle prefect and their friends try and make a run of it.

"Stop squinting, would you? It makes you look stupid."

"Not all of us have a glowing eye," You snarked back, seeing the orange flame on the right side of his face. That was probably how he could still see amidst the chaos. Or he was just that good.

He tch'ed again, leaving you to the assumption that no, he was going to kill you, because he already would of.

Instead, he scratched your face, and you screamed in pain, falling back to your ground, clutching your eye. Leona's hand dripped more ink, and he stared at you.

Suddenly, everything around you became much clearer. The sandstorm was practically a transparent curtain, and in the glass reflection of the lion's head, you knew why.

Just like Leona, an orange flame covered your right eye.

"There, now stop complaining."

The silhouette of the Prefect was gone now, leaving only you and the overblotted Leona. Rising from the sand, a lone throne sat, becoming one with the stadium's hoops. Leona floated over before sitting down, dragging you with him. You were placed onto his lap, while the inky King of Beasts sat by the throne's side.

"You're the only one is the damn world that's worth a fucking dime," Leona stated, as one of his braids fell loose. "Everyone else is some moron who thinks they so great for no reason at all. You're not like that."

...Holy shit was this a love confession???

"I was gonna burn it all to ashes," Leona continued. "That Diasomnia kid said it himself. I ain't ever gonna be king."

He took an ink covered hand and dragged it across your cheek. "But you're here. You aren't a coward and you weren't obsessed with this stupid schoolkid game. And I ain't gonna give up when you could be by my side, because you're worth fighting for."

You never knew Leona felt this way about you. Were you supposed to? Sure, this wasn't unwelcome; you had a crush on Leona yourself and your worries about it not being reciprocated were now disappearing like dust, but....this wasn't Leona. This was clearly years of trauma, and an attempt to finally be deemed good enough gone wrong, resulting in a mental breakdown and Overblotting. You didn't want this to be your first date. Who the fuck would?

The Prefect would come back, right? They had fought an Overblot before and won, and everyone in your dorm was talking about the 'damned Prefect', getting into other people's business and trying to be a hero. You'd like a hero right now. That would be pretty nice.

Well, hopefully hope was coming, but by then you should try and get used to it. The sandstorm was practically nonexistent to you now, and Leona didn't seem like he was going to scratch you again.

You repositioned on his lap, leaning into the fur around his neck. It was soft, yet it felt as though gum or honey had gotten stuck in there and left the fur coarse.

Wait, was he just sitting here, tiddies out-

The disturbing thought paused as Leona let out a roar. You looked up, but no-one was around. After doing so, he let out more softer animalistic growls.

Ah, so couldn't control it.

The King of Beasts nuzzled against you, getting more ink on your cheek. In response, Leona growled at the entity and licked your face. Luckily, there was no ink.

You were never going to a Spelldrive tournament again.

#someone had to do it so i did #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #simper scribbles

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squirmhoney · 1 year

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Hii, can you please do a smut fic with dark!aemond where he and the reader are in an arranged marriage and he is obsessed with her instead of her who is scared by him and take moon tea for not having his children. When he find out what she did he makes sure to fill her up completely so she gets pregnant. After the night they spend together he takes away all her freedom and has her followed by a guard he pays to ensure that she is always controlled. He never leaves her bed, and she soon finds herself pregnant

A/N: all I’m going to say this is super super dark and also my last request I will be posting for a while. There are two more in my inbox but they did come in after I closed my requests so I won’t be writing them until after I’m finished with some of my uni work. Warnings: Dub con. Non con. Crying. Angst. Degradation. Yandere!Aemond Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader (niece) Word count: 1.8k

His Bastard Wife

Master List

Like every morning, Aemond had woke you with his cock buried inside of you. Once he was done, he peppered your face in kisses, whispering doting words. Before he left, he told you he would see you later, striding away out of the room as he made his way to training.

This isn’t what you wanted. You were the daughter of Rhaneyera Targaryen, twin sister of Jacaerys, and you had been forced into this marriage. To keep the peace, your mother had said.

A peace that lasted no more than a day after King Viserys died and your mother was meant to crowned. They had usurped the throne from your mother, waged war on your family and the man that bedded you each night had killed your younger brother. Every time you looked upon Aemond’s eye, you could see Lucerys sweet face, scared and helpless as he called out to you.

Not only did you hate Aemond but you feared what he could do to you.

The servants poured in, bringing you breakfast and getting ready to dress you. One of your closer servants, Arianna placed a tea in the middle of the table. You nodded and smiled at her knowingly, not saying a word as she poured you a cup.

“Thank you, Arianna,” You sweetly said, taking the cup from her. You were quick to drink it, the hot liquid burning your throat but you didn’t care. The moon tea didn’t taste the same as usual, slightly more blander.

As you stared back at Arianna, her lips were quivering and her eyes were glassed over.

Within a second Aemond burst through the doors, storming over to where you were standing. You had no time to react as he ripped the cup from your grip, throwing it across the room in a rage. You flinched away from him but he gripped you by your hair dragging you towards the bed.

“I should of known,” Aemond spat in your face, holding your face close to his. “I plant my seed in you at least twice a day and after months you’re not pregnant. Moon tea but how could you slip it past me.” He twists your face round to look at Arianna. “This fucking servant of yours.”

Arianna trembled, hands shaking furiously as she stood paralysed to the spot. Tears brimmed her eyes as she stared at you.

“Guards,” Aemond shouted.

Two men strode in, taking Arianna by her arms as she started to sob. One pulled out their knife as they pressed it against Arianna’s throat, drawing a drip of blood.

“No, please,” you pleaded, cries wrecking your body. “I’ll do anything just don’t kill her. I forced her to do it, I made her. She had no choice in the matter I threatened her family and her life. Anything and everything. Don’t kill her, please.” You were a weeping mess as your husband held you by your hair, gripping it tightly as got you to stop moving.

“This is one thing I will give you, my bastard wife,” Aemond hissed, waving his hand to his guards so they let go of Arianna. “The only thing I will give you.”

Arianna was thrown to the floor, the guardsman leaving the room and her.

“Arianna go,” you shouted, pointing towards the door. “Go now.”

Arianna jumped up, sprinting out of the room.

You were alone now, nothing in this world could stop your husband from getting what he wanted.

“You’ve done this to yourself, my bastard niece,” he whispered coldly in your ear. The tone of his voice and breath on your neck, made you shiver in fear. “You will carry my child. I’ll make sure of that.” He threw you onto the bed, stripping himself of his clothes as he glared down at you. “Today you will be willing or I’ll have that servant girl killed without hesitation, understood?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Once he was bare, he leant over you, poking his erect cock against your thigh. You were only dressed in your robe, easy for Aemond to unwrap from your body. He shoved his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. You leaned in, reciprocating helplessly as you opened your mother for him letting his tongue slip in against yours.

You wanted to throw your fists against him, bite his tongue and rip it from his mouth. But all you could do was widen your legs for him, allowing him more access to you.

“Put it in for me,” Aemond told you, moving slightly so you could reach down. “Good girl.”

You grabbed him, squeezing him tightly as you hoped to hurt him but he just groaned in your mouth. You placed him by your entrance, the tip of him poking at your entrance. Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him in as he entered you.

It hurt, a dull stinging between your thighs as he bottomed out and you winced, squeezing your eyes shut. Aemond groaned at the feeling, how unprepared you were your walls still so tight even though he had fucked you less than an hour before. His lips traced your jaw with soft kisses, almost a loving touch as he snapped his hips into you.

“Do you love me, sweet wife?” Aemond asked, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Yes, I love you,” you lied, trying to fake a smile as you looked up at him.

“You lie,” Aemond chuckled, pressing his face against yours. “I like it when you lie.”

Your tears kissed his skin as his face rubbed against yours. Moans fell from his lips onto your skin, he started to pound his hips faster into you. Although you were unprepared, the pain started to turn into pleasure and you felt yourself clenching around him.

“Tell me, you’re my bastard wife,” Aemond demanded, voice raspy as you felt him drawing closer to the edge. His fingers grazed your body, stroking your soft skin.

“I’m your-” you stopped yourself, biting down on your tongue as you held back a moan. “I’m your bastard wife, Aemond.”

You started to cry again, realising you body was betraying you as it enjoyed this. Your cunt seeked it’s own release, dripping around Aemond’s cock and squeezing on it. When you felt yourself on the brink, teeth grinding down to muffle the noises, Aemond halted pulling out of you.

“You don’t get to cum today, sweet wife,” Aemond said, hand constricting your throat. He wrapped around it tightly, making you gasp for air as your vision became clouded. Then he released his grip, knowing your pleasure had been torn away from you as he buried himself in you again. “Only good wives gets to cum.”

He was relentless as he pounded into you, groaning into your skin.

“I’m going to breed all day. Cum inside of you so many times that my seed will be sure to take,” Aemond grunted, his pace becoming sloppy. “You’d like to have my child, wouldn’t you wife.”

He came undone, seed spilling into you as it coated your walls. He made sure to fill you to the brim, not moving out of you once he was finished.

Aemond take a second to rest, flipping you over when he pulled out. His cock either still hard or springing to as he took you from behind. Breath ragged as he started pounding into you again with no mercy.

“I’ll make sure you are with child by night,” Aemond hummed, ramming himself into you.

The next few weeks Aemond had you confined to your rooms and he barely left your side, only when his mother desperately needed him. He didn’t care who stepped into the room, he kept you docile and exhausted as he rutted into you day and night.

Even as the servants plated your breakfast or made your baths, Aemond was practically always inside you. You had gotten used to it, not knowing what life was like without your cunt full of him.

When you woke up one morning to find him not there, you were surprised. Aemond barely left you alone, his side of the bed feeling colder than usual as if he had left in the middle of the night. You weren’t alone for long as your servants poured in, getting your meal ready for the day.

Your eyes widened when you noticed Arianna between them, a scar on her neck. She barely looked at you, a frail girl that paced around the room to get everything done quickly.

“Get out,” you demanded, getting up from your bed. “All of you except you.” You pointed at Arianna.

She stood in her spot as the servants left, staring at her feet as she played with her hands.

Once the servants dispersed, Arianna begun to sob holding her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry.” She finally looked up at you. “He-he told me-” She stuttered over her words barely able to get a sentence out.

“I do not blame you,” you said softly, hands cupping her face gently. “Arianna this isn’t your doing. You are not to blame. But I need you to leave Kings Landing.” You strode across your room and scrambled in your drawers finding a purse full of coins. “Take some of my money. This will get you and your family on board a ship. I don’t care where you go but you can’t stay here. It isn’t safe for you anymore.”

“And you?” She asked, holding the purse in her hands.

“This is my life,” you told her, shrugging your shoulders. “This is how things are.”

“It’s not fair,” she whispered.

“I know.” Your hand stroked the side of her face, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’m going to start screaming at you so the guards think I was having a go at you. You will leave here crying and scared as you run back to your chambers. The money tucked in your dress, understood.”

She stuffed the purse in her dress, nodding as she looked at you.

“Get out,” you screamed, turning away from her. “Now, get out.”

You heard Arianna scamper away, the door slamming closed behind her once she had gone.

For a moment you assumed it was the sadness consuming you, the dark realisation that this was all your life would be, as your knees buckled underneath you. You hurled onto the floor, not even realising what was coming out of you until you picked yourself back up.

The door swinging open as Aemond strode in, kneeling right beside your side.

“What is it?” He asked, worry filling his eye.

Your hand moved over your body, feeling your tight swollen breasts as you realised. The dizziness came over you as you held onto your husbands body for support, feeling like you might vomit again.

“I think I’m with child,” you told him, resting your head against his chest.

Aemond pulled your head to look up at him, gleaming as he gazed down at you. He brought your lips in a feverish kiss, not even caring about the mess you had just made on the floor.

“We are with child,” he whispered, resting his head against yours.

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#aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Text

Loaded Question.

Yan Arlecchino x Reader. Commissioned piece.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, brief alcohol mention. Word count: 2k.

The Knave has grown past the point where she must investigate matters herself.

If a person’s life is divided into acts, then she’d consider the final word of that era written. The ink has dried, the page long turned. Through excruciating effort, she climbed the ranks, claiming the revered title ‘Harbinger’. In this frosty wasteland, there is no higher honor, aside from holding the throne the Tsaritsa occupies.

Menial endeavors are below Arlecchino. Not due to a lack of interest on her part, but to prove she must never lower herself to such a degree again. Her ambitions are great, her drive greater. She won’t stop at reaching for the stars.

She plans to have the entire night sky twinkle and dance inside her palms.

So why do you, a lowly creature of the ground, interest her so?

It’s an itch that’s been bothering her for some time. She’d like to say there is some grand, overarching reason to explain away her curiosity, but she’d only be lying to herself. She’s read your file frequently enough to have memorized the document in its entirety. There was nothing of note on the first read, the fourth, or the thirtieth. Still, she searched, trying to find some justification for the intrigue you sparked.

Her efforts conducted from afar have been ineffective. This is why today, she’s trying a more hands-on approach.

You stand behind her, your Fatui mask in place, uniform dusted with remnants of snow. She isn’t facing you directly. She’s opted to gaze out the windows of her office, her back turned to you. By not facing her scrutiny directly, she hopes your body language will be more open. Reveal little nuances you’d otherwise try to conceal. She can still make out your movements by your reflection in the glass.

“It’s been a busy season, hasn’t it?” The cadence of her voice is smooth. It isn’t time to put you on edge.

That’ll come later.

“Ah, yes, there’s been no shortage of work to do, my lady,” you reply, a little eager, but not inexcusably so. You have no idea what her intentions are, after all. “It’s good, though. I prefer that over sitting around and twiddling my thumbs.”

You are nervous — hence the rambling — yet she doesn’t find herself miffed by it. There’s a touch of something in your tone that warms her, like a steaming cup of hot chocolate enjoyed by the hearth. Sweet, comforting.

She could never stop at one sip.

“[First].”

“Y-Yes, my lady?”

Arlecchino pivots on her heel. You straighten your posture, your spine going stiff as a board. She clasps her hand behind her back and looks at you through thick eyelashes.

“Do you have any idea why I called you here?”

You shift your weight from foot to foot. Poor thing, she muses. Your trepidation is tangible, thicker than the blizzards that paint Snezhnaya in silvery white. Some may call her cruel for playing with you like this, but they’d be wrong. This is her kindness. Allowing you time to think, to mull over what words you should choke out next. Her patience for you surpasses what she gives her fellow Harbingers.

Your shoulders droop. You must not think your response will satisfy her.

“I… can’t say I do. I’m sorry.”

Arlecchino sighs, shaking her head while she does so. Your guess was right — your response was unsatisfactory, though it’s no fault of your own. She’s holding all the cards. You don’t even know you’ve been dealt a hand.

“So am I,” is her unexpected reply. “Up until a few minutes ago, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kill you or not.”

You go stiff enough at the admission that it might as well be rigor mortis.

She advances on you. Slow, steady steps, her heels echoing against the stone floor. Gloved hands raise to trace the outline of your mask. It’s then tossed haphazardly into some corner of the room. She smiles at the unobstructed view of your face. Your widening eyes, inward pinching of your eyebrows. She can feel your shallow breaths against her cheek.

“You aren’t a threat,” she isn’t sure if she’s saying this for your sake or hers. “You aren’t scheming, waiting for your moment to strike. I know what that looks like. The little tells that come with it. No… you’re just you. Unassuming, genuine you.”

Arlecchino drops her voice to a husky whisper. “Are you frightened, sweet thing? Do I scare you?”

She finds the trembling of your lower lip mesmerizing.

“I don’t want to be scared,” comes your admission. She raises an eyebrow. “I want to understand.”

This earns you a chuckle. It isn’t derisive, you just stir up pleasant sentiments in her that she didn’t know existed. She cradles your face in her hands. Through the fabric of her gloves, she feels the heat your skin radiates. Lovely, she thinks. You’re oh so lovely. She regrets not doing this sooner. There is no substitute for having you in person, at her mercy, which you’re unaware you have in spades.

With some reluctance, she parts from you. Her fingertips graze your cheeks while she pulls back. She returns to her position behind her desk, her back turned to you once more. Whatever barrier she’d previously torn down between the two of you rises again. It won’t be there much longer, but she still has work to do.

You’ll be a treat to enjoy later.

“You may leave.”

At her order, you rush to gather the mask that was thrown aside. It’s slightly askew when you set it into place. She assumes you’ll fix it when you’re free from the oppressive atmosphere of her office. You waste no time shuffling toward the doors. You give her one final glance over your shoulder, then the wood creaks open, your footsteps retreating down the hallway.

Arlecchino releases a shaky breath. How long has it been since she’s struggled to maintain her composure like that? She places a hand over her pounding heart, savoring the erratic rhythm. You cause the fleshy organ to sing.

What a delight it is. What a delight you are.

There is no moon out tonight.

The wind doesn’t howl, tree branches don’t rustle. All is eerily silent.

Your dorm room is a small, pitiful thing. You have a twin-sized bed against the flaking wall, an old desk, and a closet too small for her to stand in. Your personal belongings are next to nonexistent. A few trinkets, some books, and a candle whose wick is charred from frequent usage.

Arlecchino pinches your thin bed sheets, pulling them up for closer inspection. How is this meant to keep the biting cold away? How many nights have you spent awake, shivering from the eternal winter this land is cursed with? It’s unforgivable.

The groan of floorboards gives you away.

“My lady?” You squeak. Water droplets cascade from your hair, you must’ve just gotten out of the shower. She frowns, she’ll need it to dry before you’re taken outside. It wouldn’t do for you to be sick while adjusting to a new home.

“You said you wanted to understand,” Arlecchino motions to the box on your bed which contains all your personal effects. You rub your eyes, as if thinking she’s an apparition. She can’t blame you for believing that. “Well, here is your opportunity. You’ll be coming with me. I assume you have no complaints, correct?”

The abrupt sharpness in her voice gives you pause.

“I—” you shiver beneath the weight of her stare. “I… have no complaints.”

“Good. I wouldn’t have listened to them, anyway.”

Arlecchino drops the box into your arms. You hold it close to your chest, shrinking into yourself. She appreciates how quick you are on the uptake. The thought of exerting physical force on you was unappealing, it’s no way to start off a relationship. You’ve done well to keep your emotions in check. No crying, whimpering, or begging.

“I’ve decided to open my home to you. It isn’t a long journey from here. Whatever you need, I’ll provide, within reason. I’m sure you know better than to take advantage of my kindness.”

You nod, wholly incapable of forming words.

She gives a closed-mouth smile. “Excellent. For being so agreeable, I’ll let you ask me a question. Just one, however. Choose wisely.”

The cogs turning in your head are apparent. She doesn’t rush you, seeing as this is a reward for good behavior. It’s important you learn this early on. The lesson will serve you well.

Your lips part, a few words tumbling out that she struggles to hear.

“Hm? Speak up, [First].”

“Do I… need to report to work in the morning?” You finally croak out. The Knave blinks. A moment passes. Her hand rises to cover her mouth, muffling the sounds of her laughter. She feels light, euphoric, any slivers of doubt that you wouldn’t entertain her melting away. It’s foolish she entertained the notion to begin with.

She can’t remember the last time she laughed like this. Not serving some hidden agenda, just an authentic expression of joy.

With some difficulty, she gathers herself. “No, sweet thing. Accept my care and you’ll never need to lift a finger again.”

That night, when she sits by her fireplace, she has a servant bring in another chair.

The flame dances to some long-forgotten melody. It casts a warm glow upon your face, hypnotizing you with its gyrations. Arlecchino rests her head upon her fist. To think this study was a lonely place a few hours ago. The difference your presence brings can already be felt in the room, sinking into the little details.

Your coat hanging by hers on the rack. Your former Fatui mask resting atop the mantle. The chessboard between your chairs.

In a few more moves, she’ll have you in checkmate.

She’s broken from her reverie by the sound of you yawning. You try to cover the display, a futile endeavor, considering how sharp her senses are.

“It’s been a long day,” she muses, sipping the red wine from her glass. “You should rest.”

The fire crackles, a piece of wood falling into a pile of ash. Glowing embers spark in its wake.

“Ah, well, I’m afraid I don’t know where my room is.”

“Our room,” she corrects, a hint of fondness bleeding through. You finally look at her, your interest in the flame lost. “And it’s just down the hall. A maid can help guide you if you get lost, the servants of this estate are at your disposal.”

You mull over this revelation. She can’t fault you for your caution, especially since you’re exhausted. Still, she hopes you can piece together that she would’ve killed you by now if that was to be your fate. She’s going to lengths to ensure your comfort. Your gratitude might not be necessary today, but she’ll expect it soon enough.

“Then… where will you sleep, my lady?”

“In our bed.”

Your lips form an ‘o’ that she finds terribly endearing. The urge to tease your blossoms, its roots taking hold.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Arlecchino leans forward, steepling her fingers. “A goodnight kiss, perhaps?”

You stand up immediately, your face betraying your embarrassment. “I could never hope to expect that from my lady.”

“Hm. A pity, that is.”

She lets you turn in not long after that. As enjoyable as toying around with you is, she doesn’t want you sleep-deprived. You need to be at your best for the future to come. If you were to ever let your dissent slip through the cracks, it’d awaken a beast inside her that’s better off remaining in hibernation.

For you and her both.

When the flame starts dying off, she prods at it with a fireplace poker. Nothing can start or end without her express approval.

Not even the elements.

The Knave reclines in her chair, exhaustion’s tendrils wrapping snug around her.

This ‘investigation’ is turning out to be her favorite yet.

#arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino x reader #yandere harbinger x reader #yandere fatui x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #commissions #my stuff

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mellowwillowy · 8 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈𝐈

Yan! Crown Prince x (GN?) Childhood Friend! Reader

Warnings: General Yandere Warnings. Reader is hinted to be intersex.

𝘕𝘰𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢 '𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵'. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.

"𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙄 𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨, 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙥𝙞𝙚."

-- Part I, II, III

"All hail to the Emperor!!"

Among the herd of people was the man who shone under the spotlight, Erickson Blankenheim, the 13th Emperor of the nation. The man smiled toward his people, his right hand raised in response to people's cheer.

You did not stand among the others, instead, you were standing next to the former Empress as her lady-in-waiting. Your eyes were shooted back and forth between Noel and Erickson. Noel was standing stalwartly next to Erickson, his figure posed what a knight would be.

The parade went on until the banquet time arrived. All nobles gathered and feasted together

"Your Majesty! Congratulations on your coronation! What lies ahead of this nation is nothing but everlasting peace and prosperity!"

"Your Majesty! I suppose it is also time you consider courting a woman to be the next Empress!"

"Your Majesty! It truly is a rare sight to see a crown prince unwed before he took the throne and is still unwed after taking one!"

"Your Majesty! My daughter is one of a kind! She's exceptionally beautiful and talented, one that would suit standing next to you!"

Every line of their words started with his new honorifics. Erickson paid no mind to most of them, only focused on eating the dessert on his plate. There was no throne next to him as he was still unwed.

You, on the other hand, had to excuse yourself from the former Empress to see your betrothed, Noel. It was at this time that you wished you could just run with pants or at least, your usual horse riding attire rather than having to lift this heavy dress. What your senses did not notice was that Erickson's eyes did not leave your running figure toward his wounded brother.

"Noel, are you alright?"

"Yes... I feel better..."

"You stood for hours! Are you sure you are alright?"

"Ye-"

"Yo, Noel, sure yer' fine with your wobbly legs?"

Erickson appeared behind you, his hand lazily snaked into your waist with a glass of champagne in his other hand. You opened your fan and covered half of your face, turning back to look at the new Emperor.

"I suppose I shouldn't curtsy?"

"No need for all those formalities, little pie."

"Erickson, stop herding all attention here." Noel groaned before he stood to pull a chair for you.

"So, don't you think this whole banquet is amazing?" Erickson pulled one for you earlier than Noel did. You who did not realize Noel's attempt sat down between the two of them.

"Have you seen Lady Rimwell? If not, allow me to arrange for you two to meet-" You were silenced by a fork of strawberry pointed at you.

"No. I would prefer spending my coronation day with my families, right, Noel?"

Families. You nodded and opened your lips to eat the strawberry. Noel could only play with the strawberry on top of his cake, would you still eat his after you were offered by Erickson's? He could only guess and ate his share, drowned by the voice of people chattering.

The former Empress had always been a figure you adore since you were little. The woman was kind enough to bring you into the family when you were still an orphan, your origin was nothing but a bastard.

"From today on, please treat my sons as though they are your own brothers okay?"

2 boys standing next to the Empress looked into you. Erickson rushed to you and circled you all over, a rather odd question slipped out of his lip, "Mother! Are they a girl or a boy?"

You woke up on your bed, what happened? Looking to the side, you saw a familiar shade tuft of hair. It looked like you were drunk and spent the night with Noel.

"Wake up, dear."

"Mnh..."

And what surprised you was that his hair was... long. Your heart sank to the pit of oblivion, and you immediately pulled the cover to shield your body from him. Hit by the cold, Erickson pulled his legs to his chest before playfully reprimanding you, "Aaargh, don't hog all the blanket for yourself, I'm cold too!"

"Erick! What are you doing here? Where is Noel?!"

Erickson sat up, his hand scratching the back of his head while he yawned, trying to collect his thoughts.

"Dunno, you should go ask Mom."

"Then what are YOU doing in here? What happened?" You looked down at yourself, you were wearing a flimsy nightgown, befitting of a lady.

"Hmm..."

"Erickson!"

It wasn't usual for you to call him by that and it seemed to annoy him a bit. "Even if something happened, I know you could never get pregnant."

Your face turned pale, did he really do it? Did he know about your body's circumstances? You looked around your skin and found no marks left, your lower region wasn't sore.

"We didn't do anything, little pie"

Even if you two didn't do it, how did he know about your circumstances?

"What? Go call the maids and prepare us the bathtub."

"Us? Are you nuts? I'm going to look for Noel first."

Erickson stopped you by your wrist, his eyes bore into yours, "I suppose you wouldn't want to do that, he is still talking with Mom."

And that was why he asked you to look for the former Empress? What were they talking about to the point you shouldn't go? You yanked your hand away from his grip, "Erickson, you are this nation's Emperor. Behave like one should be." You left the room and did not look back to the dark expression Erickson had on his face.

"Looks like he should lose his footing."

"WHERE IS NOEL?! WHERE IS HE?!"

You yelled at the guards stationed in front of the palace's gate. The guards did not respond to you at all despite all the curses you had thrown at them. You need to leave this palace to find him, you thought to yourself.

You ran toward the servant who usually helped you in your disguise, asking her to help you dress up. The servant nodded in response and proceeded with what she had to do. Swiftly, you left the palace from the back gate and strode toward the city.

You couldn't find him, not even in the very corner of the city. Where could he have gone to? There's no way he was dispatched because of his conditions. Why were things going in such a way after Erickson's coronation?

You slumped down to the nearest tree you could find, you were tired. You were tired from the day Noel returned with his leg wounded. You were tired from the day you had to assassinate the imperial Uncle. You were tired from the day you had to open the path for Erickson. You were tired of... this headache...

"I... I like you... Would you please go out with me?"

His face was red, he was stuttering with his words as the bouquet of flowers was given to you. The person you've spent most of your childhood with confessed to you, Noel confessed to you. Behind him were some nobles around your age smiling in anticipation, whispering chances of what could happen. Among them all was Erickson, standing still with this unreadable expression on his face. His lip moved as though he was trying to say something.

'Don't'

"Yes... yes, Noel! Yes!"

Everybody cheered in union but it seemed like Erickson did not, his face remained unreadable.

"--! Sir! Are you okay sir?"

"Ah? What? Huh?"

You woke up in a different place. You were no longer by the tree you leaned on previously. You were in front of a clinic.

"Ah, yes, yes, yes of course- ah!"

You went to hold your head, the headache growing unbearable. You tried to stand only to fall back on your butt. Your vision was fuzzy, your body shaking.

"Please, come in Mister Marquez! We will have you treated first!"

"Right... thank you..."

However, the better question remained, Who brought you here?

"Noel asked to be sent away. He would be ordained by his own wish."

You stood still. Not only was he suddenly gone, but he one-sidedly decided to end your engagement?

"...what nonsense... is this... Mom...? Mom, what nonsense is this? We are supposed to marry each other after Erickson's coronation!"

"No matter what, this is what he chose, here." The former Empress handed you an envelope of letter, signed by Noel himself. You immediately took it and read it to yourself.

𝐼'𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎, 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒𝓃 𝒷𝓎 𝒢𝑜𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓃. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑜 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓎, 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓃 𝒻𝒶𝒾𝓉𝒽. 𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹, 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒.

You broke down, and you tried your best to not crumple the letter but it couldn't be helped. Tears flowed down, body shook from shock and heartbroken by the man you loved the most. What happened? Why were these happening to you? You felt like your head was about to burst open again.

"Noel.... oooohhh... Noel... Noel! Uwaaaaahhhhhh!" You slammed your fist to the ground beneath you, "Was that all a lie again?", you yelled to yourself, "If you knew this was going to happen, why! Why did you even bother confessing your love?!"

'I love you'

"Why can't I ever hope for something good to happen? Why am I always bound to lose everything and everyone I hold dear?!"

'If only that bastard died earlier! If only that woman carried you instead of me! If only you never existed! Uwaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!'

"Uwaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!"

The memories of your mother suffocating you with the pillow flooded your head. The memories of everyone in the palace abusing you crashed you down like a wave.

And the person who relished the most in seeing you breaking down was Erickson who was hiding in the shadow.

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝟏𝟕 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:

The last line may feel off because it indeed foreshadows the original lore. I have written one for it, you can open it but I wouldn't recommend you read it if you want to remain in the Yan x reader trope as it is rather disturbing. I personally love the scene where Erickson warned Reader years earlier.

#yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere works #yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #oc #x gn reader

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i-cant-sing · 2 years

Note

How would yandere JJK characters handle baby Fushiguro being extremely clingy?

Yandere JJK characters x clingy baby Fushiguro

Uncle Naoya Zenin:

He's annoyed at first. You're hanging onto his legs and begging him to take you along. It's when you started tearing up when he told you he can't bring you along to his business trip.

Naoya's first thought was that someone was hurting you. Is it one of the family members? Or is it a servant?

Naoya bends down to your height, grabbing your shoulders and looking you with utter seriousness. "Y/n, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Has someone been hurting you?" But you shake your head, just clutching onto him tighter.

He had to reschedule his meeting and spend the rest of his day coaxing you to tell him the truth.

"I'll be good. Please don't leave me."Your lips wobbled as you finally confessed your fear.

Naoya always knew that Toji's sudden absence from your life had affected you, but he didn't know it was this bad. He didn't know that you were afraid that other people were gonna leave you to.

The fear of loneliness- he didn't want you to spend the rest of your life being afraid that everyone was gonna leave you.

He surely wasn't.

So from then on, Naoya made sure to put in extra effort to show you that he was always gonna be around. Always gave you verbal reaffirmations that he will always be in your life.

Even when you don't want him anymore.

Yandere Sukuna:

Pretends he doesn't love all the extra attention from you, especially when you invade his domain expansion: Malevolent shrine.

"What do you want now, you brat?" He asks, chin resting on his hand as he looks down at you from his throne.

He watches you raise your arms towards him and pout. "Cuddles?"

"No, we already did that yesterday-"

"Cuddles." You demanded again. He doesn't know for sure, but he suspects that you've been using your cursed energy on him because there's no other explanation why he can't refuse you. It obviously can't help because you're undeniably cute.

"Spoiled brat." Sukuna grumbles as he lifts you into his lap, letting you drape your tiny arms across his chest and sigh happily as you snuggle your cheek against his muscles. "But it you drool on me this time, I swear I will kick you like a football."

He'd never. He can't ever hurt a hair on your extra small head.

Yandere Gojo:

Accepts it, ENJOYS it. He always enjoys being the center of attention, so when you start becoming clingy, following him around everywhere and spending extra time with him even after training hours, he welcomes it.

At some point, he is bound to start dressing you up like him, making you wear his glasses and stuff, letting you copy his mannerisms because it's actually super adorable.

He probably does make sure that there isn't something else that's bothering you and causing you to act like this.

Gojo has definitely strapped you to his chest and brought you along on slightly dangerous missions because he wanted his no.1 fan to watch him in action. And also, wouldn't this make for a great childhood memory- watching your teacher absolutely demolish curses?

And yes, he has handed you a GoPro to record him as he beats up one curse after another.

Yandere Toji Fushiguro:

Usually after he returns from his long missions, you become clingy. Its reasonable, Toji understands that you haven't seen him in a long time and he honestly does feel guilty.

So obviously, he's gonna spoil you rotten on his time off. Be it by going to every amusement park and 7/11 in town, or just having a movie marathon with pizzas on the couch with you.

Toji's heart swells a bit everytime he drops you off to school, only for you to drag him by his hand and introduce him to your friends and teachers. He had later found out that some kids had been bullying you about not having a mother and that your father had also ran away from you. So whenever he came to school, he made sure to look extra good and flex his muscles in front of your friends (and low key scare them into not bullying you) and sweet talking your teachers so they'll give you special treatment.

When he has to leave again, his heart breaks when you beg him not to go. As much as Toji would like to haul you on his hip and kill curses and humans alike, that was only okay when you were a baby who couldn't remember stuff.

So he makes dozens of promises if returning soon and that he'll bring plenty of presents before leaving you crying and struggling in Megumi's arms.

#yandere naoya zenin #yandere naoya #yandere sukuna #yandere sukuna ryomen #yandere sakuna #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo saturo #yandere toji #yandere toji fushiguro #yandere gojo #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk

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reareaotaku · 9 months

Note

Can you please do a Yandere (male) Cinderella with Princess/Prince Charming reader

Sure <3 I don't usually get request on this tumblr profile lol This was requested so long ago.... Like probably in 2021... Damn... Kinda went off a little...

Artist: Miyuli

You tapped your fingers on the wood, looking out to the town. Your father was pressuring you into finding a husband and it was starting to get pestering. He had suggesting taking up one of your suitors from another country, but it wasn't what you wanted. You wanted more for yourself. Someone you loved and cared for-

No, that was stupid. Honestly, you would be fine if you both got along. That was all you needed.

"What about a ball?"

You looked back towards your father, confused, "A ball?"

"Yes- A marriage ball."

You couldn't believe your next words, but if this would get your dad off your back, you'd agree, "Fine." Your father was about to cheer, but you held up your hand, "BUT! If I don't find someone, then we quit."

Your father knew you would find someone. There was to many people for you not too. So, of course he agreed.

---

Your room was swarming with people, putting on your makeup, dress, hair, etc etc. There was so much going on even you couldn't keep up with it. Your father kept going on and on about how this was going to be the best night of your life, but you doubted it.

"It's time."

You rolled your eyes and followed your father to the ballroom, where you sat in a throne, waiting for the guest to approach you.

"Your majesty," They would say as they bowed or curtseyed.

You would nod and welcome them. Though, after only 20 minutes you started to slouch and when you did, your father would quickly correct you. Some boys and their father came in, trying to win your favor, but they were like everyone else. No one stood out to you.

Maybe that was rude, but it was true. You can't all be beautiful, because then no one is beautiful. You thought this whole thing was a bust and your father started to think the same, until you saw him-

He blonde hair was fluffy and curled around his sharp face. He had on a light blue, almost silver, suit with black details. You didn't know why you were so drawn to him, but you had to know everything about him.

"Hello."

Elias was startled by your appearence, but was quickly overcome with flushed emotions when realizing who you were. He quickly bowed-

"Your majesty."

"What's your name?" You ask, grabbing his hand, before leading him away from the stairs.

His eyes widen and he looks around, before coming up with a fake name. "Cinder!"

"Cinder? Like burned coal?"

He blushed and quickly nodded. You hummed, before asking him if he wanted to dance. You were genuinely surprised by how swift and gracefully he was, especially when he spun you.

"I've never seen you before," You remark to him, "And I've gone to town before."

"Oh, well I don't get out much-"

"Scared you'll kill all the girls?" You joke, which causes him to chuckle.

He couldn't believe it. He was here dancing with you and you were joking with him. He could see the envious glares of everyone, especially his brothers. He gulped as you scooted in closer to him.

"Do you want to go somewhere private?" You whispered to him and as he was about to say yes, the clock started to strike. You were taken by surprised when he quickly started to leave. You followed close behind, trying to call for him. "Cinder, where are you going?"

"I'm so sorry, Princess, but I have to go."

And then he was gone and all that was left was a glass shoe.

---

You sighed into your bed. Your father was asking you a million questions about the male you were dancing with and you didn't know the answer to any of it. The male's glass shoe sat on your dresser, shinning in the light.

"Who was he? What happened? Where did he go?"

"I don't know!" You yell into your pillow before an idea pops into your head. You jump out of your bad, grab the shoe and start to head out. Your father quickly followed behind asking where you were going, but you were ignoring him and told your drivers to take you into town.

---

You had asked around the town, asking if anyone knew a Cinder, but you came up empty. Had he lied to you about his name?

"I don't know anyone named Cinder," An old man tells you, after you asked him about the male at your ball. You hung your head, about to give up, when he continues, "BUT," He points to a Victorian-styled house, "There is a male who lives there that fits the description of the male you were talking about. Doesn't get out much though. I've only seen him once or twice."

You were ecstatic at the possibility of finding the man from last night. You thanked the old man and went towards the house. A few guards stood behind you as you knocked on the door.

An older man opened the door, before calling to his sons, when seeing you. He welcomes you in asking if you'd like something to drink.

"No. Actually, I'm looking for the man from last night-"

The father, you assumed, shook you off, "My sons are so much better-"

"Yeah. Um, I heard he was here." You hold up the man's shoe, "And I'm not leaving until I find him."

"Well, me and my sons are the only ones who live here, so maybe it was one of them." He gestures to his boys.

No, there was no way. You looked to one of your guards, who quickly understood you wanted him to look around to find another person in the house, because you knew the man was lying. You force on a smile, before straightening up.

"Is that drink still on the table, because I'd love some tea."

---

You internally groan, as the males keep talking to themselves. You were getting bored of this conversation, but luckily one of your guards came in and you were so happy to be saved.

"We found someone in the back."

You quickly stand up, "Well, let's go see!"

The father, Lord Tremaine, looked towards his sons, hoping one of them could stop you, but you were quick to get out of there. You followed your guard, who lead you to a blonde male who was covered in rags.

You jumped over the small doors and rushed to him, before grabbing his arms and pulling him up. He was taken by surprise at your appearance.

"It's you!" You were in his face, close enough to kiss and his dirt covered face was red.

"What are you talking about that idiot wasn't there."

You looked towards the step brothers, who were now at the entrance. Your brows frowned, "I think I'd know who I was dancing with and it was you." You looked around the stable, before your nose scrunched up. "God, we have to get you out of here." You pulled him with you, but he pulled back, confusing you.

"You must be mistaken. I was here all night."

You frown, before shaking your head, "No. I remember it was you. Here," You grab the shoe from one of your guards, and hand it to you. "Put on the shoe-"

"No."

"Do you not like me?"

He grabs the shoe, everyone now watching him. He frowned when it fit, because he knew how his step father and siblings would react.

"Ha! I knew it." You grab his hand, pulling him with you, "Now let's get you out of this shit hole."

#yandere x reader #cinderella #cinderella x reader #yandere cinderella #yandere cinderella x reader #male cinderella #yandere male cinderella #yandere fairytales

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mango-bango-bby · 1 year

Note

Hey mango! 🥭 Could I request a the “Cinderella! Au 🌸” prompt for yan prince!Bakugo and yan!prince Kirishima where they are searching for their princess at the royal ball. They’re immediately in love when they see you wondering around the castle, Eijiro offered the reader to dance with him they nearly trip over their feet while doing so. They’re upset when you have to leave and end up losing your glass slipper behind you while running outta the castle. Both of them see how awful your step mother and step sister treat you and decide to have a “talk” with them, they would immediately recognize you even though your not as glamorous as before but they’re still star struck. -🦦

♡ Glass Slipper ♡

(A/N: I tried to make this gender neutral but I think some parts may be a bit female reader focused, so I’m so sorry about that!! I love fairytales so much, I went a little overboard with this so it’s really really long 😭😭 I hope you enjoy anyways!! 💞💞💗💝)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, Cinderella AU, ooc Katsuki, prince!Kirishima and prince!Bakugou, abusive families, lots of cute fluff, gender neutral reader but reader is wearing heels and a dress

Summary: You catch prince Eijiro and prince Katsukis attention at the ball (Yan!Bakugou x GN!reader x Yan!Kirishima)

Prompt List ➸ ♡

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Eijiro and Katsuki could not be more bored. They both look over the ballroom from their thrones, seeing if anyone eligible was down there. They invited everyone in the kingdom, waiting to find someone to complete them. However whoever they were expecting was definitely not there. At least not yet.

Katsuki throws his head back frustrated, Eijiro looks over the crowd again. They’ve almost given up at this point. That was before the sound of the ballroom doors open, turning both of their heads towards the of the sound. You freeze up for a moment at all the sudden attention on you, however you guess that’s what happens when you’re late.

You look down, nervous because of how many eyes are on you. Eijiro and Katsuki both look over, they can’t help but stare. You’re absolutely gorgeous. How had they never seen you in the kingdom before? How had they never seen you at previous balls? Katsuki catches a reflection which seems to be from your shoes. You walk down the grand staircase, in amazement at the size of the castle

Eijiro stands up from his throne, walking down onto the ballroom floor. The people stop their conversation at the sight of the prince on the dance floor, they part a path for him. They anxiously wait to see who he’s approaching, they whisper as he walks past. Eijiro stops in front of you, smiling a bit as you don’t even realize he’s in front of you. You’re too busy looking around the castle, starry eyed.

You almost jump, turning around to see Eijiro right in front of you. “May I have this dance?” He asks, holding out his gloved hand to you. You stand frozen for a moment. “I- um- yes” you nod slightly, taking his hand in yours. Eijiro leads you to the middle of the dance floor, the music slowly beginning to swell back up again. You swallow as he begins to sway you, looking down at your dress and shoes, trying to keep yourself stable.

Eijiro chuckles a bit at how you trip over your feet a bit, trying to play it off. “I-I’m sorry, I haven’t really danced before” you mumble, laughing a little bit as you’re embarrassed. “Really? Someone as beautiful as you has never danced with anyone before?” He asks, twirling you around. You look away flustered at his words. The crowd mumbles even more when Katsuki gets up from his throne, walking down to the floor.

Katsuki was known for not giving anyone attention he didn’t deem worthy of it. Eijiro looks up, twirling you around to pass you over to Katsuki. You squeal a bit, landing directly into the blonde princes arms. He begins continuing the dance with you. Eijiro now’s stands on the side lines and watches.

“How come we’ve never seen you before?” Katsuki asks, his voice rough but his words are sincere. You stumble over your feet again, Katsuki easily catches you by the waist. “I don’t exactly get out much” You say soft, Katsuki grunting a bit at your words. He looks up at Eijiro who simply watches you spin, the way your face reflects the candle light.

Katsuki spins you around, you ending up back in Eijiros arms. It’s a while of this, them dancing with you asking random questions. They want you to be theirs. They can see it on the crowds faces, multiple men want to ask you to dance but they don’t, fearing the princes. They want you to themselves.

You completely lost track of time, the chiming of the clock immediately sending your gaze to the clock. You gasp a bit, bunching up your dress so you can make a quick escape. “I’m so sorry” you say softly, both princes confused and starting to follow you. “I’m s-so sorry, I have to leave” you say apologetically, quickly running up the stairs and out the door to the ballroom.

Katsuki and Eijiro chase after you, although they aren’t able to catch up to you. You run out the castle, down the stairs leading to the castle. “Ah!” You exclaim, almost tripping down the stairs but managing to catch yourself. Although you’re able to catch yourself you leave one of your shoes behind. A glass slipper, slightly heeled.

You hop into your carriage, waving out the window as you leave. “Thank you so much, that was the best night of my life!” you apologetically wave at Eijiro and Katsuki, feeling bad for leaving them like this. All you left behind for them was your glass slipper.

They have to find you.

♡ ♡ ♡

Eijiro and Katsuki approach the last home. They searched the entire kingdom for you and they yet to find you. However they weren’t going to give up, if they didn’t find you here, they wouldn’t stop searching for you. They would search the whole world to find the beautiful stranger who appeared at the ball.

The ride up to the home on their horses. It was the final home. A small cottage on the outskirts of the kingdom, vines growing up the side of the home and a well kept garden in the front. Katsuki is the first one to hop off his horse, the guards following him as he approaches the door.

An older woman eagerly opens the door, having heard from others that the princes were searching for the mysterious person who caught their attention. She was hoping her two daughters would catch the attention of the princes. The two daughters would be your step sisters, your step mother had instructed you to stay up in the attic when they both came here.

You look out the window from the attic, looking over the guards on their white horses. Eijro gets off his horse, looking up at the window that you look out of. You quickly duck to avoid his gaze, scared of what your stepmother would do if she knew you had accidentally made eye contact with the prince. Eijiro luckily was able to catch that glimpse of you, not being able to see your face but knowing someone was in the attic.

“Girls!” Your stepmother calls out, your stepsisters quickly entering the room and bowing. Eijiro enters, standing next to Katsuki. They both immediately recognize the women in front of them. They particularly remember them because of how extravagant and gaudy their dresses were. They remember how both of your stepsisters tried desperately to catch their attention.

Katsuki looks your stepsisters up and down. He stays silent, walking through the cottage to see if there was anyone else. If you’re not here then they’ll have to go try to find you in another kingdom. Eijiro walks away from your stepsisters, ignoring the offended looks on their faces.

Eijiro looks up the wooden staircase. “Is there anyone else living here?” Katsuki asks, seeing the cleaning supplies left on the floor. The cleaning supplies covered in dirt and soot despite the fact that your stepmother and your stepsisters were perfectly clean. “No, it’s just us” Your stepsister calls out, Eijiro beginning to climb the stairs.

“Your majesty, I wouldn’t go up there!” Your stepmother calls out, trying to chase after him to stop him. Katsuki snaps his fingers causing the guards to quickly grab her to let him go up the stairs. Katsuki follows Eijiro up the stairs, they eventually come to a rickety wooden door.

You quickly try to fix your hair as if despite the fact you know you look like a servant. You weren’t glamorous like you were at the ball, you were a servant for your step family. Doing everything for them that they demanded, being denied food and the attic if you didn’t do your chores. The door opens, you being face to face with the princes once again.

You bow out of respect, looking at the floor once you come back up. Eijiro and Katsuki can only stare, you’re still absolutely stunning. You could leave so many starstruck by simply looking at them. They just can’t believe you’re clearly living in such horrible conditions. That your family treats you this way. Your clothes are tattered and dirty, your hair is matted, the attic is clearly your room despite now beat up it is.

While they’re relived to see you, they’re fuming at how your family is clearly treating you. You didn’t deserve that, they’ll treat you amazingly. They need to show you how you should be treated. Katsuki brings out the glass slipper, holding it out to you.

“I believe that belongs to you” Eijiro smiles.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

#yandere bnha #yandere fantasy au #royalty au #yandere kirishima #yandere!kirishima #yandere kirishima x reader #yandere eijiro #yandere eijiro x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere!bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere katsuki #yandere katsuki x reader #yandere poly

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flowersandbigteeth · 4 months

Text

Meeting your changeling BF: pt 8

General Plot: You arrive in Darkbell and meet the king

Word Count: 3.5K

Changeling (Clark) x f nymph reader

TW: yandere behavior, sfw fluff, magic

Previous parts and more nsfw monsters here

The troubling thoughts were scrubbed from your mind when you reached the gates of Darkbell. They were massive, rising up several stories and made of some gleaming white metal.

“Amazing, hm? The gates of Darkbell have never been breached. The citizens have lived safely inside for centuries.” Clark said, pulling your horse to the side where there was a smaller entrance with a night elf guard.

“State your business,” he barked, not at all friendly.

Clark opened his jacket and pulled out some document.

“I’ve been sent by the Mage’s Chamber to answer your request,” he said.

The night elf examined the document carefully, then looked at you, his glowing violet eyes skeptical.

“What about her? Doesn’t say anything in here about a nymph,” he said.

Clark sighed and rolled his eyes.

“For Goddess’s sake,” he grumbled. “No one is trying to break into your bloody cave. She’s my wife! Why else do you think I’m carrying around a nymph?”

He pulled out the two little booklets the administrator had given you to mark your marriage and showed them to the elf. The guard didn’t seem the least bit moved by Clark’s tirade, but handed his documents back and waved you through.

“Proceed straight to the castle,” he said as you passed.

Clark mocked him in silence when you were out of his view.

“Be nice,” you said, smacking him lightly on his arm.

“You are too sweet, my love,” he said, nuzzling your ear.

You gasped at your first vision of Darkbell. Clark’s description did not do it justice. The city was stunning. The homes and businesses were cut directly into a shimmering blue stone, flecked with sparkles that looked like stars. Gravity defying aquaducts wound around the buildings delivering water in sparkling waterfalls to various ponds and wells tucked in walled gardens. The paths were lined with blocks of the same gleaming white metal as the gates. There weren’t just glowing mushrooms, there were bioluminescent vines and flowers climbing every vertical surface and clusters of gently pulsing fungus crowded the corners.

Night elves moved elegantly through the neighborhoods, their skin a similar blue to the buildings but their eyes glowing a rainbow of colors– blue, green, pink, and violet. The cave was relatively dim, but you could still see quite well with tall illuminated fungus growing along the avenue like street lamps.

At the far end of the massive expanse that was the city, a lovely sparkling castle sat at the top of hundreds of stairs. It appeared to be carved from blue and purple crystals that were hundreds of feet tall. Even more crystals arranged almost like stonehenge circled the main building. As you approached, your eyes followed two of the aquaducts emptying into a wide river that bisected the city. It was clear and still as glass with massive white fish with no eyes gracefully swirling their long fins below the smooth surface.

“How pretty,” you breathed, your eyes eating it up like candy.

“It is a little pretty,” he agreed, guiding your horse along the widest road towards the castle.

You had to dismount in front of another surly guard at the base of the castle.

“King Khelvan is expecting you,” he said, carefully examining all of our documents again. “Proceed.”

“The king,” you whispered as Clark took your hand to lead you up the staircase. “I’ve never met a king before! What do I do?”

He chuckled.

“Just let me talk with him,” he assured you. “Be polite and bow when you approach, that’s all. Don’t be hurt if he’s a little rude, all these elves are cold to outsiders.”

You were expecting an old King with lots of wrinkles and maybe a long beard, but that wasn’t who was sitting on the throne. The night elf was incredibly handsome and appeared to be close your your age with oddly familiar glowing green eyes. A sweep of long blue hair fell over wide, strong shoulders. He was dressed in a robe that looked to be woven from silver thread only accentuated his graceful features. A single silver circlet rested on his head.

To either side of you, what must have been his court, peered at the two of you, whispering amongst themselves.

“Greetings your Magesty,” Clark said with a practiced flourish as he bowed.

The king’s eyes met yours for a moment and while Clark was looking down, he winked at you! The edge of his lip lifted just slightly as he looked you up and down. Your cheeks burned and since you were standing there staring, Clark grabbed your wrist and pulled you down with him.

“Rise Mage and state your business,” the king said, his tone neutral though his voice was very smooth and deep.

“I’m Clark Septos and this is my lovely wife (Y/N). We arrived to answer your request for an investigation,” Clark said. “You wrote there was a wraith haunting your halls, causing trouble. The Mage’s Chamber humbly offers my services to hopefully find some solution.”

The king rose from his seat and glided down the set of stairs that separated the two of you from the throne. He circled the both of you, taking your measure.

“A changeling and a nymph,” he hummed. “What an interesting match.”

“I’m very fortunate,” Clark said, smiling at you warmly. “The goddess blessed me with a wife as sweet as she is beautiful.”

“Hm,” he said, then turned and walked down a side hall. “Let’s discuss the matter in my library.”

You stuck close to Clark as you followed him. The inside of the castle was just as beautiful as the outside. Everything from the chairs to the shelves was carved from faceted crystal.

He led you into a smaller room with a massive, sparkling desk and took his seat behind it, gesturing for the two of you to take the ones on the opposite side.

“As my request explained,” he started as soon as you were settled. “There’s a wraith on the loose. I’m not sure who conjured it or why, but it seems to have some vindictive mission. Things and people have gone missing, relics destroyed, and no matter what spells we cast they simply aren’t strong enough to excorcise the creature. I assure you, we would not have summoned you had we been able to handle the situation ourselves.”

Clark pulled out a small notebook to write notes.

“Does it speak or communicate?” he asked.

King Khelvan nodded.

“It goes on about some betrayal that occurred,” he said. “I have no idea what injustice they refer to. I’ve searched the library and asked the elders, but no one can come up with anything.”

“When and where does it tend to appear?”

Khelvan thought for a moment.

“It seems to like hanging around the Queen’s chambers. I, of course, have yet to choose a Queen so they are unoccupied, but maids and guards maintain the rooms. There are also many artifacts and heirlooms there that will become the property of the Queen when she is crowned,” he explained. “It’s her items that disappear. It took a scrying mirror, a painting, and a fan that has been passed through generations. There may have been other things I have yet to notice.”

“What was the painting of?” Clark asked.

“A princess,” he said.

“What princess?”

“No one of note.”

“Hmm,” Clark hummed. “I’ll have to investigate the area to find out more.”

“Yes, of course,” Khelvan responded with a tip of his head, then his glowing eyes flicked to you. “I can keep your wife company while you work. This wraith is much too dangerous for a fair nymph. My guards will escort you to the Queen’s halls.”

Clark frowned deeply and seemed to be wrestling with the idea in his head, but finally caution won out.

“Yes,” he admitted. “It would be unwise to risk (Y/N)’s safety with a wraith I’ve yet to see.”

“But-” you started and he shook his head, shushing you.

“You’ll be safe here,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

You were nervous about him leaving, but he gave you a comforting kiss on the forehead before he joined the guards standing outside.

“Would you like a glass of wine to ease your nerves?” Khelvan asked.

You didn’t really drink, but you didn’t want to be rude, either so you nodded.

He poured you some rich, red liquid from a decanter and placed the silver goblet in your hand.

“How did you come to be the wife of a changeling mage?” he asked as he retook his seat. “Most nymphs stay in the old wood. I’ve only met one other that busied herself with our affairs.”

“It’s kind of a complicated story,” you admitted. “But I adore Clark. He’s been my anchor and my protector through a very confusing time.”

“I’m sure he would guard such a treasure fiercely,” he mused, smiling at you.

You found yourself getting lost in his eyes. They were an intense chartreuse, like sun filtering through the leaves of summer trees.

“Have we met before, you majesty?” you asked.

You knew it was a silly question, you’d only been in this world a few days, but he seemed so familiar.

He didn’t answer, likely because it was obviously foolish, taking a sip of his drink.

“Does he treat you well, provide for you?” he asked, instead.

“Oh yes, we have a pretty house in Leotolas and a garden. He’s given me some gold to buy what I need,” you said. “He’s an excellent provider.”

“Leotolas is lovely,” he hummed. “But it can’t compare to Darkbell, can it?”

You blushed. Darkbell was beautiful, but you wouldn’t compare the two. Of course, you’d never admit that as he was the king.

“Darkbell is amazing,” you said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He smiled, revealing straight, white teeth framed by pointy canines.

“I’m glad you think so,” he said.

He stood, crossing the room and lifting your hand.

“Has your mage taught you any magic?” he asked and you weren’t sure how to answer.

“Well not him exactly,” you admitted, “but his boss taught me how to access my own magic.”

He nodded, the corners of his eyes wrinkling with a smile.

“Can I teach you a spell?” he asked. “It’s not that difficult.”

“Oh yes! That’d be wonderful!” you gasped. “What kind of spell?”

“This spell is very special. It let’s you glimpse a memory of the person you touch,” he explained.

Suddenly you were standing in your old bedroom looking in the mirror. You were putting on earrings, singing some song, and dancing around as you dressed. You looked at your phone and there was a picture of a guy you used to know with the message.

“Is this good for a date? I have no idea how to dress! Help!”

“Looks good!” you typed. “You look handsome in anything you wear!”

You remembered this moment. It was right before you went on a date with your first boyfriend. Looking around, you found Khelvan standing next you.

“Ah, so you are a traveler. Pretty outfit,” he said winking, then glanced around your room. “What an interesting world you lived in.”

He looked at the phone in your hand.

“What fascinating magic,” he hummed.

You felt something like a rush of wind and you were back in his library.

“How did you do that?” you gasped and he chuckled.

“I’m going to teach you,” he said. “First you have to reach out to the goddess of time and ask for a trade. One memory of their’s for one of your own. That’s the reason you can’t use the spell too often, you’d lose lots of memories. It doesn’t have to be a special memory, just one you have a very clear vision of.

The goddess’s name is Edenta. Focus on her name and try to draw the memory you are willing to trade to your mind. Once you have them in your thoughts, touch your subject and ask for the memory you’d like to see. You have to be relatively specific or she will show you whatever is closest to what you asked for. You can experiment on me.”

You blinked at him.

“You’re sure you’re okay with me digging around in your memories?” you asked and he laughed.

“I can help you choose one if you like,” he offered.

“Yes, I don’t want to see anything too private,” you admitted and he gave you a soft look.

“So considerate and kind,” he murmured. “What about…? My first date, since I saw yours?”

Your eyes widened.

“Kings date?” you asked, making him laugh harder.

“It was arranged by my father, but yes,” he said. “Come on now, quit stalling. Close your eyes.”

You took a deep breath and did as Khelvan had asked. The moment your mind formed the goddess’s name, it felt like the air got cooler and the glowing shape of a woman appeared in your mind’s eye. It was impossible to focus on her directly, she seemed to be shifting between forms before your eyes.

“Greetings nymph, why have you summoned me?” she asked, her voice many different voices all at once.

“I wish to trade a memory for a memory,” you said, your words echoing in the space inside your head.

“What have you to offer me?” she asked and you focused your thoughts on an unpleasant memory you’d rather forget.

It was when that boyfriend dumped you for your friend. You felt Edenta’s derision.

“You offer such a miserable memory,” she huffed, “but it will pay the price. What do you wish to see?”

“Khelvan’s first date,” you said and the moment the words were expressed she disappeared.

Khelvan had never put down your hand, so you didn’t have to do anything else. You were suddenly in the very court where you’d been introduced. Khelvan was much younger and an older man, who looked very similar was standing with his hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to do this, father,” he grumbled, but his dad smacked the back of his head, causing him to stumble forward.

“Don’t be rude to Tria, her family has traveled far to organize this match,” he snapped.

You looked behind you to find the girl he was rejecting. She was a beautiful night elf, dressed in an elaborate gold gown. She looked no more pleased to be standing before him.

“Fine,” he grumbled, taking a few steps forward to give Tria a stiff bow. “Greetings Tria of Anore.”

She returned one just as stiff.

“I’m in your hands, Khelvan of Darkbell,” she muttered.

The moment was so awkward you wished to be anywhere else and blinked, finding yourself in the library again. You looked up at Khelvan, amazed it had worked.

“Did I do it?” you asked and he nodded.

“Yes, you completed the spell perfectly. Apologies my first date was not as pleasant as yours,” he said and you shook your head.

“Things are very different for you, you’re a king,” you said, pulling your hand away.

“They were,” he said, leaning against his desk. “But now that I am king, I can make my own choices as to who I make my Queen.”

“Why haven’t you found one yet?” you asked, then your ears burned at your stupidity. “Oh…ah…I’m sorry, you’re majesty, that was rude of me. I shouldn’t question your decisions.”

He shrugged and smiled at you.

“Perhaps I have found her,” he said. “I only need to woo her. Hopefully, more successfully than Tria.”

You offered him a genuine smile, at that.

“That’s wonderful,” you said. “I wish for your happiness.”

“Come,” he said, rising and holding out his arm for you. “Let me show you the garden. There’s no reason to stay cooped up in this dusty library while your changeling does his work.”

You were sure Clark wouldn’t like you hanging on another man’s elbow, but Khelvan was the king and you didn’t want to offend him. So, you looped your arm around his and followed him through the castle.

The garden was stunning. There were crystal fountains with sculptures that looked like they were made from ice. Flowers and fruit trees filled the space with color and sang to you a sweet song.

“It’s amazing flowers bloom in the darkness like this,” you commented, your hand hovering over a bloom.

“You can touch it,” he said, but you shook your head, standing.

“Trust me,” you laughed. “I’m still getting used to my magic. You don’t want to have to hack back the vines I create when I touch plants.”

He chuckled, tipping his head in thanks for your honesty.

“I’m very curious about your old world,” he said, waving you to a bench in front of a fountain shaped the like white fish you’d seen spitting water.

You shrugged.

“It was noisy, dirty, and generally…unpleasant,” you said. “There was not magic like here. There was science that made our conveniences, but every convenience had a cost.”

He nodded, thoughtfully.

“All magic has a cost, as well,” he commented.

You thought about this for a moment.

“Yes,” you agreed. “Channeling the whisperer can be…painful, but I’m working on it.”

While you sat in the garden, Khelvan spoke to you about the history of Darkbell and a few humorous stories about his childhood.

An hour later, Clark returned with his escorts. When he saw you sitting together he frowned, tugging you away from Khelvan and giving you a kiss.

“I missed you love, did you miss me?” he asked, trying to sound easy but you could tell he was annoyed.

“Of course I missed you. I always miss you when you are away,” you beamed, “His majesty has been telling me about the history of Darkbell. It’s very interesting.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat and glared at Khelvan.

“What are your impressions?” Khelvan asked, unmoved by Clark’s hostility. “Did you find the wraith?”

“Yes,” he said tightly. “From what I could garner your wraith is royalty. I tried to speak with it, using my methods to draw out its story. It has some vendetta, perhaps about the girl in the portrait. It’s bitter and vicious! Its presence is very concerning as I believe it will continue its activities as its goal is retribution for what it lost.”

Khelvan frowned.

“Can it be excorcised?” he asked.

Clark frowned.

“Possibly,” he said. “There is a method that we use for such creatures, but though it is well practiced it’s never a guarantee. Wraiths fueled by hate and revenge tend to be tricky. These feelings are strong and fuel dangerous magic.”

“What materials would you require to try?” Khelvan asked.

“A bottle imbued with magic,” he replied. “Wraiths like these cannot be killed, only contained. I will need to trap it and then the Mage’s Chamber will insist I return with it, as it can become a powerful weapon to the owner of the bottle.”

The King frowned, but Clark continued.

“You will have to trust the the Mage’s Chamber doesn’t use these creatures as weapons. They merely join our collection where they can be monitored. We don’t hoard weapons for nefarious purposes, as a practice we attempt to avoid political conflicts. We do a service to Ilirion, keeping them out of dangerous hands.”

“Hm,” he hummed. “Would you be able to go through with the exorcism in the coming days?”

Clark nodded.

“Of course,” he said. “There is some preparation but it won’t take much time.”

Khelvan nodded.

“Then my guards will escort you…and your lovely wife to guest chambers,” he said. “Please ask them for anything you may need and they will procure it for you.”

His eyes flicked to you.

“Don’t forget what I taught you,” he said, his gaze intense. “You may find it useful.”

Clark grimaced and pulled you under his arm as the guards led you to another part of the castle.

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floydstruly · 7 months

Text

find me in your heart. (I’m in need of your love)

synopsis: vil looks at you with disdain, his bride, the fairest one of all. That’s not right. The title is rightfully his, he’s never liked you anyways..

cw. not proofread!!! cannibalism, mild depictions of violence, blood, yandere themes (????) idk, obsession, death (vil orders a hit on you sorryy), implied body mutilation, no use of (y/n) or any mention of name, google translated french LOL

note! reine des coeurs means queen of hearts

pairing: rook hunt x gn! reader (slight vil x reader but it’s more of a one-sided hate relationship)

“Till death do us part.”

You smile at him and lean into him–the world is watching, you can feel the burden on you. The crowd, nay, the kingdom cheers when you finally seal, what would hopefully, be a long and prosperous bond between their beloved princess and the prince of another, foreign country. You never notice how Vil stares at you with such loathing–even hesitating to kiss you at the altar.

Nor do you ever quite notice how his groomsman–Rook, stared at you, your figure, with such adoration. His face dusted with a light pink whenever you would talk to him, oh, how he longed for a moment longer with you, his lord’s bride.

Perhaps, in the back of his mind, he hoped that you were his instead.

They’re watching you.

No, they’re watching him–the wayward eyes around the ballroom find their way to Rook dancing with you, or rather, an empty shell of what you’ve become. Vil finds his gaze wandering to the pair of you as well, up upon his throne, taking in the bounty of another successful hunt.

Your white dress torn and tattered, a distant memory of what it once was when you were betrothed to Vil, the flowers placed into your chest where your heart once occupied as if it were merely a broach.

Dressed in red, just as the blood that left Rook’s mouth–trickling down his chin and onto your already stained wedding dress. He swallows, savouring the taste of your heart–beautiful, he smiles at the thought, beautiful to him not to anyone else, for who would find beauty in a dead, humiliated queen?

No longer the fairest.

Rook dips your cold body down, your head limply falling back to meet Vil, his expression full of hatred, disgust, disdain for you beyond words. As do the noblemen, when they catch a glance of their drab queen, they quickly turn away–most of them scurry away like little mice until the ballroom is completely devoid of any life.

You, the heartless; Rook, the reaper, and Vil, the immovable monarch.

He gets ready for the banquet. Brushing powder onto his already pale skin. He smooths down his hair, his clothes–not a single hair out of place or a wrinkle to be seen. He huffs, content with his appearance and asks the reflection in his mirror,

“Who is the fairest one of all?”

And, much to Vil’s dismay, the mirror replies back with your image–a soft smile on your flawed face, he grimaces, but that is the same answer that he’s received ever since your betrothal. He pinches the bridge of his noise in annoyance, and snaps his wrist.

“Please, get that.. thing away from me.” He says it as if he is eating something bitter, which in a way, he is. The mirror obliges, fizzling your image away as he falls delicately into the cushion of his seat, still frustrated but never losing his composure–it’s fine, he insists, because you will come to an end today.

He’s absolutely sure of it, his head turns to the window outside–already midnight, he hears the castle bells ring with a low chime, he simply cannot wait for the main event to start.

Rook takes a slow, deep breath and snaps the string back.

The arrow fizzles in the wind, cutting through the air so cleanly–as if it wasn’t even there to begin with and with a sharp snap, it passes into the glass window. It shatters into pieces, blows into your room. The tip of the arrow digs itself into the backboard of the bed, pining some of your hair in place–just barely missing.

To anyone else, they would assume it was but a mere slip of a finger, but of course, with all those years (albeit bitter ones) with Vil and Rook, you knew that the huntsman never missed. He aimed with deadly accuracy, more akin to the grim reaper praying on their next soul to drag to the underworld.

You have to go, quick–scrambling to leave, you forget to even put on shoes, opting instead to allow the glass shards to piece through the skin of your feet. Blood, there's blood, you don’t feel a thing. Your breathing quickens, no longer alone, you feel the eyes of a predator that is rapidly approaching.

Rook shivers when he sees your face glancing up in his general direction, but never quite knowing where he truly was, he must admire your fear up close–to see a prey at their most vulnerable is thrilling, beautiful even.

He will finish this hunt in a most beautiful way, rest assured.

“Where are you going?” His voice is quaint and quiet, his hand by your waist and his other holding your arm up in a waltzing motion. You feel his breath fanning against your neck before you can even react, “Reines des Coeurs.”

You hold your breath, wincing everytime he twirls your body around, dancing among the field of blades that was once your bedroom, the only place you felt at ease. Without the eyes of the kingdom looking up at you, desperate for guidance.

“Allow me one last dance.” An arrow straight to your heart, the last thing you feel is his teeth digging into the flesh of your neck, then there’s red everywhere–very fitting for the queen of hearts.

“What was it you said, Reine des Coeurs? That’s right, till death do us part.”

He can feel your flesh in his mouth. Exhilarating. Never wandering too far, you’ll always be with him in spirit. His, finally.

It was all but quiet, the soft taps of Rook’s heels on the blood-stained ballroom floor intertwined with yours, more dull, more heavy steps. Vil crossed his legs, his eyes fixed on you.

“Have you had your share of fun yet?” Vil asks, his patience wearing thin when he taps the armrest of his throne hurriedly, “it’s well past midnight, I’d like my beauty sleep.”

“Not quite,” Rook answers, “please, allow me one kiss.” he continues to talk to you as if you could respond, your mangled yet beautiful body within his grasp simply beckons him closer and closer, surely, you wouldn’t mind.

And so he kisses you, the taste your blood in his mouth is metallic, yet, he finds is addicting. Forever his, for as long as your spirit wanders the earth, for as long as your heart is inside him, for as long as your blood flows with his.

His.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #rook hunt x reader #twst x reader #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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apple-death · 2 years

Text

Where Am I?!!

A yandere genshin sagau so if your not interested you can skip

This is based off of my “Knowing Au” which in short means the reader has read fics before so knows what could go down in the genshin world and if they end up in a gruesome au. Which they did

Tw: Angst, more angst, crying, mentions of attempted murder, trauma, guilt, me ripping your heart out with even more angst. I cried on the inside while writing this.

====

It was cold in the grand church, one where the former “god” had taken residence in.

It was cold outside, where the warm sun used to bathe the brightly colored world.

It was cold, where warm blood would pump and circulate through the body of the broken god.

It was cold where their heart should be. Where they should feel any kind of warmth. Not even out of love, but out of life. Out of living. It was cold.

But nothing could surpass the frozen silence and time when their rightful god, sat upon the impostor's throne gazed upon them. The unfaithful acolytes. Could it be considered gazing at them? Their eyes seem too...cold, empty, and gone.

“Your-your grace we didn’t mean-”

A swift hand from their grace silenced the bowing, sniveling bard.

“How many did you kill?..How many did you senselessly murder?”

Their gentle voice asked. Just light of a whisper, but heard by everyone in the room as they were attentive for their creators voice. Anything that wasn’t a shrill, glass shattering scream was what they all wanted.

“How. Many.”

They demanded this time when the acolytes hesitated at the question. The voice losing it’s once gentle touch, but no louder.

Yae Miko, one who was at their side from the beginning, wordlessly handed a book to her creator. She knew that they were in a fragile state, and she didn’t have the heart in her to say the number.

“Thank you.”

The creator quietly let out. Even in such a devastated state they were still kind and polite to their creations. To those that deserved it.

The flipping of pages echoed through the walls and as each second ticked by, the more the hearts of those in the building, dropped. The more they started to cry, and the more it turned into quiet weeping as page, after page, after page, after page was slowly turned.

“We’re so sorry..”

“Please forgive us your grace.”

“We’ll take any punishment you see fit!”

The archons cried out in desperation. Anything for their god to look at them with love again.

But amidst their weeping and their pleas, they couldn’t see that their god was also crying. Crying over how many were slaughtered and what they lost.

“Why? Why did you kill so many just because they looked like me?! Some of these are even kids! Children!”

The broken sound of their god made them raise their heads from the floor to see their god weeping, which caused their hearts to shatter even further, if that was possible.

It was their fault that their god couldn’t look at them. It was their fault they could be near them. It was their fault they couldn’t stand them. Yet they asked for forgiveness anyways cause they couldn’t fathom doing anything else.

“They were impostors your grace!”

Venti blurted out.

“You being here confirms that they weren’t the real all creator!!”

Zhongli tried to reaason.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!!!”

Their god shot up from their seat as everyone looked at them in surprise at the sudden increase of volume.

While yes, they had screamed as they were tortured by their acolytes and when they were about to be executed. They had always tried to be quiet, to be gentle, to be nice, to be forgiving. But this scream, this shriek held all the anger that they had yet shown.

“DID NONE OF YOU MORONS EVEN CONSIDER THAT IT COULD’VE BEEN REINCARNATION?! THAT MAYBE THERE WERE SO MANY IMPOSTORS BECAUSE YOU KEPT SLAUGHTERING ME?!!! THAT IT WAS TEYVAT ITSELF FORCING ME TO COME TO YOU?!!! TRYING TO TELL YOU THAT YOU WERE KILLING YOUR OWN GOD?!!!”

The full choir of cries and wails now filled the nation as not only the acolytes, but the followers as well heard their god’s rage, their sorrow, their grief as they were right. They had never taken that into consideration.

The new idea of killing their god over and over even as they took on an early stage of life made them feel even worse. The sin of harming or even killing their own god was what they considered as the worst transgression they could commit, until their god said that. The act of killing their god repeatedly was so much worse.

“We’re sorry we’re sorry, we’re so sorry!!”

“SORRY FOR WHAT?? FOR HURTING ME? OR THAT YOU FELL FROM MY SO CALLED GOOD GRACES? OR IS IT BECAUSE YOUR’RE FACING THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR STUPID ACTIONS??!!!”

The room was filled with cries that were desperately trying to be suppressed. Sniffles and hiccups littered the room, but none were as attention grabbing as the ones coming from their god, who collapsed into the chair exhausted from finally letting their bleeding-heart speak.

“Your gra-...Y/n..”

Yae corrected as she rested a gentle hand on their shoulder. While formality was strict when it came to her god, she knew they hated that name for what it brought them. She also used their name because that was the only thing that could get their attention in their state. Their true name being said was such a rarity, Yae saw the light in their eyes come back when she said their name. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for her. Enough for both of them.

“-We can go back to the shrine, or even Snezhnaya if this is too much now.”

Yae waited for their tears to calm down for their answer, but her god asked her a question so meekly she didn’t hear it.

“Where am I?”

“Yo-Y/n?..What do you mean by that?”

She cradled their face in her hands as she stepped in front of them, blocking their view from the acolytes. She was concerned about why they would ask that. They’d sustained so many injuries it was possible that it could be a side effect or something that they missed.

“Where am I?”

They repeated a little louder. As fat, warm tears rolled down their cheeks and onto Yae’s hands that tried to wipe them away.

“-This isn’t the Teyvat that I fell in love with. These aren’t the people I fell in love with.”

They uncontrollably started crying as they curled in on themselves. Their voice growing until even the acolytes on the floor could here them,.

“My Teyvat would never do this. They would never slaughter kids and they would never hunt down someone for such a simple thing.”

Yae’s, and the recently appeared Tsaritsa’s heart broke as their god coninued on.

“This isn’t the Mondstadt I fell in, this isn’t the Izuma I fell in love with. There’s nothing here I loved before.”

“Surely you don’t mean-”

The Tsaritsa tried to cut in.

“I loved the people who would smile, I loved the people who would protect others and those who wished the best for others. Those who followed their ideals and dreams without influence, and those who were kind. But I’ve seen none of it here in this world. This world is cruel and unforgiving. It murders any that resembles me and has no qualms committing atrocities even against the innocent and young. It’s just a husk of what I love rotting from the inside desperately pretending it’s still alive.”

They choked out one more thing that even broke the ones who were in their god’s favor.

“This isn’t the world I loved.”

-------

@chocoenvy

This was the first time making anything really angsty so I’m sorry if it wasn’t as sad as the Tw warnings said it would be.

Reblog, but don’t repost or copy guys. :D

#Genshin sagau #Imposter au #Knowing AU #Tsaritsa x reader #Yae Miko x reader #Everyone's just weeping at the end #Yae isn't okay #The Tsaritsa ain't okay #She's picking you up and cradling you in her arms as she takes you away from those heathens #But she;s going to be crying over that later #Same with Miko #Your all going to be in you big bed squished between two women being sad #And the kids or anyone else who the reader isn't mad at is going to be trying their hardest at showing them a reason to love Teyvat #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin sagau

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helloescapist · 1 month

Text

The Sorcerers in a Relationship | Choso

Word Count: 10,075

Setting: Choso x gn!reader

Content Warnings: dark undertones, suggestive themes, mentions of various abuses, touched on trauma topics, but I strayed here and there, spoiler for the series, as well as Choso's lineage, there is a moment in which we briefly cover if the reader wishes to bare children

Summary: headcanons of Choso as a relationship partner, and what the relationship would entail, from attraction, courtship, commitment, and more.

A/N: I swear I did my best to keep this SFW, but It is so hard when there are images of Choso's jaw and neck line, and just... Choso. 🥴I will go on record by saying, I understand if you feel that the elder Death Womb Painting is too soft to become a yandere, and that is a narrative that works for you, and I support that (I look forward to reading your works!), but I will not be entertaining bashing in my inbox. 🙃

[image is not mine, it belongs to Gege Akutami the creator of Jujutsu Kaisen]

To be loved by the death womb painting is to know dependability. To be loved by Choso is to know the brisk chill of fall day amiable into the depth of the sunset, hues of orange crisps delicate against the sunset and amber garnets. It’s the assurance of the crips crunch of leaves beneath the heels of your shoes. Greeted by the tinge of frigidity caught into the tips of your fingers. Tingled and ached seared past the tips of your cozy sweater, quivered as though vivid leaves flickered into the stiff autumn breeze. The early indications of winter greeted to the tip of your nose, delighted to dip your chin into the plush of your scarf. Cozy and snug secured by the knot at your collar bone. Nuzzled into the knit fibers, tranquil to the delicate hushed tones of autumn ushering summer from its throne.

Eliciting a smile from the corner of your lips. Cultivated memories of pumpkin pastries fresh from the oven. Warm and gooey nothing compared to the thrill of your senses as his palms clasp over your own. Enfolded from your fingers fondled delicately as though he were clasping hand blown glass. Brittle and breakable caught between his powerful palms. Your back warmed secured to the grasp of his arms that enfold around your shoulders, the phantom touch of his defined jaw dragging against the crescent of your neck. Desperately seeking warmth from his neck. Exposed to the rasp of his husky breath rousing hidden desires. Gnawing yearning that blossoms at your breast and settles in the pit of your stomach drawing the heat to your cheeks. Hitches in your breath rattled to your ribcage that expedites warmth from the tips of your ears to the cusp of your existence. Eases your bones, and the exhaustion from your heart. Weariness lifted from your features; your thoughts hung only on the warmth of the man who cultivates your heart. Choso’s love is like that of a hot shower in the cold of winter clinging to the scent of sweet basil. As light and sweet whip cream subtle to the note of his sweat. Warmed earth, the hidden entice of his gaze as it means your own. Fingers that tenderly whisper inveigle into your skin. Muted spices that ignite in the steam of the shower dared to tase your senses. Dangled in a way that leaves a comforting linger of fragrance upon your skin as welcoming as diving into soft bedding. Snuggled into one another’s embrace assured of the safety of your home. To be loved by the enigma placed between curse and sorcerer is to bask in simple pleasures. Dates nights with board games savored between sips of hot chocolate. Delicate grazes that sooth the end of your hair faint to the touch that lull you to sleep. Toyed as his eyes trace your features, committed to memory. Giddy to detect the pale touch of a fine line traced at the corner of your mouth. Vestige of the joys of your relationship leaving its mark upon your essence. Drowsy mornings, the meet of your toes beneath blankets as the light of the day begins to seep through sheer curtain kissed upon the highs of his cheeks. To be loved by Choso is to know his heart is with you. Captivated at the bat of your eyelashes and cultivated at the elicit of your sighs. To know that his heart will remain with you regardless of where you may wander, or the time apart. Tended to by envelopes pressed with kisses reminding you to take care upon your voyage. To be loved by the Death Womb Painting is to know that he eagerly awaits your return.

To be loved by Choso is to understand that you will have to be veracious. You will have to approach the relationship with authenticity and ensure that all facades have been slipped from your soul. Pure and clean with no traces of shadow upon your soul.

Let’s be clear, he does not in fact expect you to be innocent. Depths of depravity is not a guaranteed deal breaker. It’s your ability to be forthcoming that he adores. The ability to approach him with authenticity is necessary. More so, you will find that he will need a little bit of patience alongside it.

It’s a bond born of sincerity. It’s one that is cultivated in kindness, and steadfast loyalty. Undying commitment, one that will not fold with the passage of time, nor the sway of the tides. Its devotion is wrapped in gentle touches, and soft gazes. The touch of his hand through your hair and the silence of the night.

It’s unwavering. One that cannot be swayed, bathed in integrity. Assured by the warmth of his larger hands enfolding over your own, marveling at the size difference between yours as he plays with your fingers. Toyed in the plush of his lips as the smile spreads across his lips, and his eyes peek at you through thick eyelashes.

To be loved by the Death Womb Painting is to know the safety of a gentle companion. A phantom that lingers over your shoulder, curiously peeking at what has caught your interest. A faint presence that is aways within reach tender as cashmere. Soft words whispered into the snug of your neck. It is simple pleasures dressed in adornment.

Free of pretenses and forced stuffy extravagance. To prefer simple delights such as a teaspoon of honey dipped into your afternoon tea as you dare to bundle into a blanket under the security of the veranda. Sipping upon the fragrance sweetness as crisp foliage is carried through the breeze. Happiness that lands upon a bed of leaves, content to delight in the crisp of earth beneath you.

His love is not one bathed in cologne, nor can you expect lavish gifting. Rather, Choso’s love is that of handpicked flowers, the soil snagged beneath his nails. Boyish joys that form at the high of his cheeks as he offers them to you, clueless that his generous selection is composed of weeds.

It is to be honest when something is on your mind. To understand that he has very little experience with the world, and to adjust your response as such. Though, he would rather endure a truth wrapped in barbed response than welcome a lie wrapped in beauty. To respond with sincerity and to respond to his tender touches with returned warmth.

Know that an embrace for him especially at the beginning is bold, dangerously so for his entire world, and that the very brave endeavor is one that rattles him to his core. His soul will sing upon you returning his grasp, and reveal the quiver of certainty hidden beneath his stoic façade. Delicate and winding as the smile that responds as you peer up with him out of curiosity.

The reality is, regardless of where you are in life, you with almost all assurance, are the experienced partner, but do not mistake this as a lack of interest in learning on the false Kamo’s part. No, rather, you should press just a little further and delight as he comes undone.

Choso is attracted to individuals who are reliable, and it’s without surprising that the sincerity in which you approach life and relationships is a significant turning point that will lure him to your side. He did not become the oldest of the death womb paintings without being the product of cruel games at play and has no desires to relive the atrocities of his upbringing. We don’t blame him for unresolved Daddy issues.

Because of this, you will find that the cursed dipped sorcerer yearns for someone lighthearted and sincere. The world of jujutsu is not a simple one. It is a world poised in bleak obscenities. Curses birthed upon nightmares enridged upon insanities, and he was ripped from his mother’s womb abandoned amongst the wastelands of existence. His mere being is a mockery of life one that other forces desire to lock away from sight.

It is not a surprise that the older brother desires a lover that tips into daydreams. Soft and sweet to take him away from reality. A bright energy that breathes life into his existence separate from his willingness to die for his siblings. A joyful smile that allows his shoulders to loosen, and arms that embrace him upon greeting.

Though, don’t be confused, while one would suspect that Choso seeks a partner that is dependent, that leans up on his touch and is not far from reach. As faithful as a pet that desperately awaits the door-- he may find such a rare occurrence adorable, he loves to see the sparkle in his lover’s eyes upon the slip of words between their teeth. Unable to deny the pleasure of sharing passions.

Truthfully, he would find a partner that is not without their own pursuits and lack of free thought… a mere imagery of his parents. A chained relationship, loyalty bonded only due to the forced state of the relationship, tethered, and bound for fear of reprehension. A shadow of his mother locked away from sight subjected to endure onslaught of morbid curiosity, and the distant sound of her tears tucked away by a false smile.

I dare say he would cherish your sass and backtalk. It reassures him that he is nothing like his “fathers”.

No, the blood wielder is attracted to independent partners, one that can stand alone and wander as they will. One that will remain steady despite his absence when his pursuit of Itadori has forced him from his home.

He needs someone who will approach him with tolerance. Accept his unfamiliarity with social expectations, how he shies away from touch, or becomes confused at common phrases. Choso has not had the opportunity to be properly introduced to the world and its adventures, even as simple jumping in mud ridden puddles. The death womb painting has a deep desire for encouragement. He desires security, and comfort. Perhaps a deep seeded craving that neither he nor his brothers ever received in life.

A partner who can provide emotional intimacy, tender words, and carefully soothe the lines of worry from his brow would be everything to this man.

There are two scenarios in which I can imagine Kamo meeting you.

The first would be something simple, perhaps a human existing outside the jujutusu universe, not from a lack of abilities but as born of your disinterest in dealing with the double-edged sword of the community. Opting to stay out of the crossfires.

Dipped in the slowed hues of the day paled by the languid shades of blue. Stale shades of blue mimicked pale water that conceals turbulent undertow. The deceiving calm of the sky crackled soft clouds that somehow seemed dreary and hung upon the silent still of the dim of the day. The small knit playground near abandoned, shadows by the trafficked by the busied of stores, venders, and schools. Slipped from existence, forgotten amongst the passersby. The silent of a day, an opportunity to slip away from the mundane just to discover the motionless silhouette of a man nestled into the set of a swing. The knit of his brow he managed to sit upon the seat. The catch of sunlight between the sway of trees, and yet wrapped in an adornment of what you could only conclude to be priest robes or unfamiliar cosplay, he remained still. Befuddled dark eyes that stayed stagnant, glued to the blades of grass that flickered beneath the playground equipment. As though a frozen phantom, unacquainted with the intentions of the equipment leaving you to place your belongings quietly at the bench. Your hands that caught at the chains of the swing before daring to whisper into his ear, “hold on,” the quip of his head. His brow creased at the press of your hand at his back. Attempting to hold your composure rather than marvel at the firmness of his body as the swing caught to your force. His ponytails caught the shift of the movement, swayed beneath the chortle of your giggle as his body jerked briefly from shock.

The other way would be a sorcerer of the jujutsu world that has strayed interests. Neither falling into full bend of the expectations of the elders or the three families like a result of falling out of aligned goals such as Okkotsu. Unable to properly mask your dismay for the judgmental bags that wallow fear and cast away children for fear of the unusual. Barely kept in the loop as punishment, save for Satoru’s sense of humor and blurred intentions. The occasional babysitter for Megumi.

The burden of his weight pressed into your back. The ache of carrying the added weight for so long as you attempt to maneuver throughout the ruins of Shibuya. The last minute impart of information—you could kill Satoru. You really could, and least of all, you had not expected to be toting a bloody man’s form through the rubble. Dear god was that Todo terror right, have you grown flabby? Ah, none of this had been apart of the agreement; you had accepted the role of ensuring Okkotsu had access to Sukuna’s vessel, a young man. Not that the esteemed blight of the Satoru had bothered to share. While parts of the plan had followed as anticipated, Okkotsu was accompanied by failproof guards warded by the higherups, although you hadn’t expected that one of the prized Zenin born children would have been deployed, but had truly caught you off guard was the cursed dipped sorcerer you bore on your back. Intercepted the threat with no hesitation capable of going head-to-head with the famed asshole. The depths of his depravity was an unexpected surprise, and you could chastise yourself for not having guessed he was a ticking timebomb. No, you had not expected for your entrusted role would be claimed by well…. Whoever—whatever this was, or that you would be carting him to safety. Yet, witnessing Okkotsu’s capable abilities first hand--- leaving this person exposed to the night air felt wrong, a sacrificial distraction for the higher ups to pursue.

It will take some time for Choso to realize that he likes you as he often a natural affiliation for taking those within his vicinity under his wings. Especially those that feel almost close knit to him, because of this, it will take him time to separate the part of him that is willing to help a friend, from the version of him who is willing to go to extreme and uncomfortable measures to be within your vicinity.

Again, this is fairly uncharted territory for the man.

While it will be quite a bit of time for him to sort out why he is drawn to your side, and understand that there is no underlining hidden familial lines that have been buried. No one can blame him for being worried after discovering Yuji was his little brother! Yet, the moment that it dawns on him that it is not some instinctual big brother senses, you discover that he is far more adamant about pursuing you than he was before, and with intentions.

He’s confident.

“confident”.

The death womb painting is not entirely sure how to go about pursuing you, or if he has even wandered into your gaze or a time or to. Rather, he is assured of his decision. He has no doubts that he is interested in you, and even less concerns that his heart is not anchored to your own.

Really, he’s just uncomfortable with the concept of courting. Again, bear in mind that the closest thing he has witnessed to a relationship is the mess of his birthright. He’s unsure of what is considered an appropriate approach to engaging you, and the concept of attempting such things from the movies that he has witnessed in his little brother’s reclusive cave his sensei had set up is… embarrassing at minimum.

Grand gestures, stopping airplanes, and shouting your desires in a public place not only feels humiliating, but insincere. Choso cannot connect how his willingness to shout your name from Tokyo Tower coincides with years of devotion on his part. Is there some way that you can detect that a partner will remain loyal throughout the years because they are willing to engage in such grand gestures.

No, flirting for the blood wielder will be one that is indirect. Subtle to the point of madness. A desire to get to know you would be an indication, though it’s understandable why it would be difficult to differentiate his interest in you from others. The way he leans forward and listens to every recount detail, he wants to know the depths of your being, your interests, your childhood, and all that you can offer.

He puts forward a great effort to talking and refuses to settle for anything dry or mundane like recent television shows or how your day was prior. More so, you’ll find that he has a concerningly willingness to engage. Downright unabashed at approaching conversations with the intention of seizing your attention for hours on end. He wants to know everything.

The false Kamo is the type to reach out with out a second thought. There will be no games in waiting three days or refusing to make the first move in this aspect. He is more than excited to reach out to you as you cross his mind.

In a silly way, your best indicator that that the curse user is interested in you is his overtly polite stance in how he engages you. Yes, he has a tendency to be considerate of those he is fond of such as the way he hangs on Yuji’s every words, or the way he listens to Tsukumo speak, but there is a near formal way that he regards you…

Truthfully, he’s depending on his enthusiasm to enter your orbit and remain in your pull as the way that you will realize that he is interested in you.

Choso approaches courting with extreme caution, and at his own pace. He cannot be pushed to expedite his intentions. He’s not the sort to just take your hand because the mood fancies him, or to kidnap you from your work to visit a carnival. Rather, he’s much more secure with sentimental gestures at are committed to building a stable foundation. It’s not that he won’t engage in romance, but that his approach is far more practical.

It’s in the way he values your time. The high significance of actions ahead of words. There are those who will depict their desires to spirit you away to Rome or Paris, but then there are those who would much rather await the day the opportunity affords it—Choso is the later.

He proves his affectiosn with subtlety, and boundaries. If you have brought up a favorite treat, he will pick it up on his way to meeting you for work. He can remember that you always sip a specific brand of coffee/tea/juice, and as he secures a beverage for himself and Itadori, you will find that he has also slipped your preference into the bag as well without a second thought.

It will be the small things that he has noticed about you in his observations that are a testament to his affection for you. His idea of romance is practical; small touches offering you his sweater when it is cold or allowing you to evade his space for warmth. Far too embarrassed that he wishes you would linger just a little longer.

It’s small moments.

Small moments that build meaning, that equate purpose and ensure a foundation in which you will always be linked to one another, but if you are wanting any progress to occur why else are you here, the odds are… you will have to make the first move. Unless by some choice you are fortunate enough to make him jealous more on this later to enforce a confession from the man, you’re just going to have to take this step first. It’s better this way because the alternative route will result in a rather bitter start.

Choso would never forgive himself for starting off a relationship that way.

So, you will find it easier to just be up front. Don’t play games, do not dance around the topic, or have him wondering if there is a chance you will like him, or do not. If you are the sort to depend on body language, gentle touches, or small tokens of affection, he enjoys the attention, an opportunity to seize your eyes upon him for a bit, but he will NOT have the slightest clue that this is you expressing your interest.

He needs you to outright say it.

And not by dragging him an expensive, lavish restaurant that serves impossible small portions. No, it will need to be something small and without the pressure of him needing to immediately respond. Such as a break between snubbing out curses, or from assisting him to navigate the grocery store he wants to take care of his little brother so badly, but he does not understand the concept of a modern store. One that your smile is natural, warm to the moment. Just at peace to be in his presence, how your eyes wander to his own as he sips from his vending machine tribute. As you pretend you are not looking at that defined neckline. Before simply stating, “I like this. I like you.” Leave no misinterpretation to chance.

Dating can be a bit uneasy to differentiate between your established relationship and your courting phase. Again, this is nothing that he is accustomed to, and as the party that has the most experience, it will be your duty to ensure the shift is one that you are comfortable with. Because truthfully, Choso is low maintenance.

The curse born has content to simple sip tea along your side, wander through gardens from time to time, or share in one of those horrible movies his little brother recommends. However, it’s understandable that on your end, this may not be enough. I mean, you want to hold his hand eventually. So it cannot hurt to be prepared!

The first few dates, Choso will lean upon your willingness to take the first steps to understand what qualifies as dating, or significant developments in your relationships. Though he would be prone to utilizing what feels natural for him. Inquiring if you would like to go for a walk through the neighborhood. Accept your excitement about a limited edition pudding, picking it up on its way to your house bag in hand.

The elder brother enjoys dates with an intent. A clear itinerary is one that is bound to spark his interests. Some part of him enjoys being able to look through the expectations for the day and mentally prepare for the demands of the day. Emotionally prepare for moments that will be loud, and work up the courage for the moment in which he will take your hand in front of everyone.

If you feel the need for extensive dating, one s that have an itinerary such as approaching a fair with a laid out plan of which booths to hit will be interesting for him. Especially with how unfamiliar the concept is for himself, but the best dates for Choso are simple in nature.

Ones that require no prior knowledge and are simply born of your desire to be with him.

Dates that are sweet nights together watching a meteor shower from your veranda. The roll of dice in cozy clothes as you dare to lean across the table, risk obscuring game pieces to plant a kiss upon his nose.

In a relationship with Choso, it’s important to note that your partner has no desires to burden you with expectations or demands. He has no desires to burden you with his struggles, and often times struggle to balance the sacrificial martyr position he often places himself in. Far too willing to give of himself to others, you may at times feel like Choso is playing tug-a-war with his desires to be a lover and a brother.

If you can find it in yourself to remain a patient partner, and allow you to chase after his familial duties, you will find a bit more peace in your relationship, but there will be times in your relationship that you will have to put your foot down on his behalf. He struggles with saying no to those under his deemed care. Not that I can imagine Itadori taking advantage of his older brother, but individuals like Satoru would definitely capitalize on the opportunity.

In a relationship, you should expect that Choso’s patience for emotional drama and continual misunderstandings is lacking in comparison to other potential partners. It’s not because he is not a patient man. He is calm, and extremely composed in most of his day-to-day affairs. However, he finds the concept extremely overwhelming. Draws out bits of anxieties out of him from his lack of upbringing, and further poisons insecurities he has buried deep down. All Choso wants in his life is stability, an on concept amongst the word he was created.

He desires something that is natural, that flows with one another.

Choso yearns for a relationship that is peaceful as elders rock quietly on their unassuming rocking chairs. Commitment that will devote to lifelong devotion. The unmovable force in his life that does not yield to the higherups, or the press of morals.

Though his expectations of the relationship are nothing that he is not willing to give of himself. The sorcerer is well committed to preserving your comfort in the relationship and is certainly not the type to stray. He’s as devoted as the sun is to set at the end of the day. Truthfully, he is extremely firm in maintaining a healthy relationship with equal grounds for both partners so much so that at times he can appear very demanding.

In love, Choso is a deeply committed partner. He is concerningly loyal to the point that the existence of another person in this world that could exist in a romantic perspective. Just as he pursues his little brothers, he is one tracked mind. Literally, in Choso’s world, there is no one in this world who can take his place. None that can compete with your beauty. He will be completely oblivious to any advances from outside forces, far too eagerly awaiting your arrival.

Choso poises honest and mutual respect into his relationships in ways that often border into near confrontational attempts as he wants the reassurance that he is not in fact forcing you into anything. It can almost be maddening how considerate he is at times. The blood wielder is highly devoted to developing emotional intimacy and solidifying his bond with you. At times, it can be difficult because in some ways it appears as though he may not be ready for these steps.

He’s almost childlike in how unfamiliar he is with such things.

But, he’s not deterred. Choso is the sort to seek out advice—I can imagine him fidgeting with a scowl fixed to his brow as he twists to and fro with his poor little brother Yuji becoming increasingly uneasy with the elder’s obvious fixated glower in his direction. Mangled to approach the topic, inevitably coerced by Yuji’s inquiry as to what it was he wanted to talk to him about. Yuji is equally inexperienced, and the discombobulated way he flips Choso’s world upside down when he expresses that he should just “go with it”.

Because of the likely areas that Choso will extract relationship advice from, he will intentionally seek environments that could inspire vulnerability between the two of you, and ensure that you are progressing your relationship in a secure way, but while this at times can seem odd—and they are, it will conclude fairly quickly.

He can only endures so much of the obscure approach to bonding a relationship before you will realize that he is forcing himself through these motions and set him right at the clasp of your hand over his own. Expressing that really, all you desire is to pick up a pizza on the way home.

Struggles to maintain composure when he witnesses you in his robes, cozy and lazily stepped to the side.

Choso’s devotion is not without consideration. He is a devoted man, one who will make far more sacrifices than you can fathom. There are no gestures that will be wasted on him. A packed lunch will set his cheek and heart on fire, and leave him a little sputtered when someone inquires about the pink bundle he has hidden within his sleeves.

Touches of extra fabric scent in the way you added his laundry to your own will leave him to snuggle his nose into his collar, the scent of you still touched upon the fabric. His stomach almost in knots at how intimate the implication is. Some part of him wishes someone would point out that you smell the same.

While Choso desires a mutual ground for relationships, he often leans towards more traditional values. Now don’t worry this does not mean that you are condemned to a life of a stay-at-home parent—though if this is a future desire of yours he will iron out the details. Because the implication scares the shit out of him. But, he’s not confined to the concept of you having to succumb to these traditional standards.

Rather, he’s fairly attached to more traditional relationship values. Two partners, committed to one another, but he is respectful of your beliefs. It may take some time, but Choso is committed to working things out even if it means trying to navigate nontraditional relationship standards.

Though, I can’t say that it will go well as time goes on.

His familial background with a nontraditional relationship was horrendously toxic. Spoiler the whole his human mother he cared for + Kenjaku+ the OG Noritoshi Kamo that utilized his mother and all of her children for his entertainment. So, it’s fairly understandable that Choso is weary of any relationship standards that stand outside of the norm.

He does however, remain adamant to respecting your desires so long as you are mindful of his own.

Choso will remember everything, absolutely everything. He’ll remember what you ordered from the little shop o the square the one time you went there. Choso can recount even the smallest of details between the connection of how your eyes floated to the gentle blossoms in the florist window, or the way your eyes light up at the prospect of a new weapon being unearthed.

At times, his dedication to remembering every detail can often appear obsessive in his pursuit. Down to the exact point that he is aware of exactly where you will be on Thursday at 3:14p.m. The level that he is in tuned with your day-to-day is almost frightening, and if it does bother you, you will need to reassure him. Push back at how he probes.

Choso could easily dip into the yandere territory, and it would take time for us to notice because his sincere concern and affection for his partner is just so damn genuine.

Though it’s important to know that in this relationship, you have the spotlight. The man will worship every fiber of your being, kiss upon your brow, to blossom mark upon your collar, through your bones. You dreams are his own, your passions are his.

In Choso’s world, your world will take precedence. In all sense of the word, you are just short of the reason why the sun rises in the morning. I’m only short of exaggerating there is that minor competition with Itadori.

The Death Womb Painting takes his commitments with sincerity. Just as you have witnessed with his brothers, Choso takes his word as devotion, his commitment is his voice, and his sacrifice is his love.

It’s important to note that if for some reason you thought that a casual relationship was in the cards, you will be highly disappointed. Attraction, relationships, love are occurrences that Choso takes lightly. In his life, stability, security, and reassurance are everything that takes precedence in his desires. A casual relationship leaves room for wandering, to explore alternative choices, and welcome new opportunities.

And while I can imagine him engaging in a one night stand, I cannot see him remaining a float in such a relationship. In many ways, the commitment in itself is half the attraction, the lure of promise forever on the tip of his tongue. He craves that touch of eternity, and a casual relationship threatens everything for a short fleeting fling.

No, for Choso a relationship that has no end line for commitment is not one that he would openly pursue. For him, the sincere connection, the loyalty displayed between the two of you is all he yearns for.

It’s important to understand that in approaching Choso, the intent for eternity is heavily implied, and one that he will not easily part with.

That being said, I imagine that a family with the curse bound spirit would be a topic that bears significant turbulence. On one hand, we’re not entirely sure if he’s capable of bearing children in the even that you are capable of conceiving. The barriers in which his own conception is a unique concoction, and one that will take into consideration if you wish to start a family this way.

In many ways, you’ll find that the dynamic that Choso holds towards his little brother is almost what we can expect from him as a father. A tad overbearing, consistently hunging on every word, and eager to follow the child’s lead. Consistently worried, and always on edge, worried over every potential threat that his child could endure. But in this word… is that an unfair worry? If he could allow himself to release a bit of the inherited leash, Choso could make a wonderful and attentive parent. We have seen the love and devotion for his siblings—he would be willing to do so much more for his children whether adopted, fostered, or carried.

I can’t imagine him turning down an adopted or foster child, but I can see him having a few more concerns because they are not bound by his blood senses as a biological child would be.

However, truthfully, Choso holds so much resentment, and burdens bound to his soul that threatened to drive him under at every turn. It’s a tether that connects him to a damning sentence that holds him a choke hold, and the moment he sees your eyes wander to smaller children. It will seize his thoughts, panic his senses, and horrifies his cores threatening to send him into depravity. It is everything he fears rolled into a receiving blanket.

Really, I feel like for his personality, he would do best with one child, but for how heavy his bonds are with his brothers, I just cannot imagine him staying at one child…

For how devoted of a individual Choso is, the odds of him cheating are specifically low with no real interest. He truly craves stability over novelty, and is not the type to be lured away from a a set of pretty eyes and tender words. Especially with how inclined he is to naturally having distrust from those around him. In a healthy relationship with respected boundaries, and free of tension, he is not the type to share a bed with another.

Now, let’s be clear, he is a surprisingly vengeful man should his boundaries be pressed, and unresected to passerby. More later. Under the right pressed and toxic concoction, Choso would use sex as a way to enact revenge if he saw it necessary. Though he would prefer alternative routes, it’s not entirely cut off.

In many ways, communication with Choso is often gentle, and amicable. He is a natural, warm communicator that is used to tending to the needs of others. It’s not surprising that he can listen to disgruntled complaints, even those directed at him. Really, I imagine that the majority of people feel comfortable initiating conversations with him against his will. He has a peaceful aura that will be comfortable and leans itself into random people, sharing far more than he is comfortable to accept.

Save. Him.

It is his own fault though—he has a natural way with words that are flowed and comforting that, anyone can fall into his honeyed orbit and drown in its sincerity. It’s that part of him that is considerate of others, and succumbs to the conversation. He’s empathetic, far too willing to allow himself to be dragged into conversations with a stranger, and even validate their grievances and attempt to offer assistance in resolution.

But I would still recommend that you keep your expression constructive, and gentle. He carries such a burdened sense of self, that truthfully I can see that approaching the chosen topic of tension from a negative, and aggressive state will only lead to fighting. A fueled pumped of angst on both ends that is not likely to end well. At the same time, I imagine that unless you remain peaceful and considerate of his feelings…

You will need to monitor his actions rather than his words as the older brother, the one to carve the path on behalf of his siblings, Choso is accustomed to burying his emotions. Snag them behind a stoic expression, and allow the onslaught to continue well pass normal breaking points. That truthfully, I cannot see him approaching an issue between the two of you of his own conviction.

Rather, I imagine that he would seek to maintain the peace misunderstanding that silence does not symbolize an olive branch. Choso is in able to mask his concerns with busying himself. Attempted to distract himself from tasks that are waying on him, and the nagging feeling of tension budding into his relationship. Something he does not know how to navigate, and has never faced before.

Because of this, it’s best to approach your discussions with precision, and sincerity. While the approach at times can be a little… hurtful, the sorcerer is far more accepting of blatant honesty than sugar coated truths. It’s apart of what attracted him to you, and is a selling point in your relationship. Really and truly what assured him to take the steps to take the dive.

Overall, he’s near dynamic in his responses. Assuming nothing touches far too close to home in which case, he is quick to fall off the deep end and allow his actions to possess his consciousness. As we have witnessed firsthand, Choso cannot sympathize with individuals with sibling conflicts—not out of bitterness. I think to some extent he can be considerate and empathize with the common familial battles such as the limitation of hot water, that one sibling always demands more attention, or the grubby fingers that always take the last dinner roll, but nothing so deep seated as intentional strives to hurt one another aside from petty sweater borrowing.

No issues that intentionally subject siblings to unnecessary injury, physical, emotional, absolutely none of it--- he will not be able to hold his composure. And he may end up adopting the afflicted sibling.

I can see him butting his nose into any of your family problems more than you may like. All of it is sincere, and not intended to come off as judgmental as it often does, but for Choso, it’s easy to blur boundaries when it comes to family. His lines are not clearly defined within his own family, and its certainly easy for him to expend more than he should.

So it’s to be expected that his borderlines are fuzzy when it comes to your own family ties. You will likely have to save him from overtly demanding laws as he is likely to sacrifice far too much of himself to help. On the same end, you’ll have to rescue your family from him if he detects underlining themes of abuse.

His pressing into family affairs whether his or your own can become intense and a little rigid. His standards at times can be downright unforgiving, and this applies to how you handle your family as well.

Fighting with the Death Womb Painting can be a very emotional tinted affair, and you will have to be forth coming about how your behavior has contributed to the source of strife. Anything short of admitting your fault in the verbal dispute will leave him with the impression that you are genuinely unaware of how you have played a part in the dispute, or that you are trying to manipulate the perspective. Neither of which will end well. Not because he is likely to outright reengage.

He’s more likely to back off the entire affair.

Choso has such a difficult time processing emotions in general let alone when they run extremely high. As a natural born protector, he has a deep seeded fear of hurting loved ones, and will go to extreme lengths to avoid conflicts. He’s a natural peacekeeper as the older sibling, and quick to simply sort things out, or burry them with lock and key.

Not only does this run the risk of extreme health issues and eventual combustion that will be downright vile and vengeful, but it also places an extreme strain on the relationship that will open itself to a multitude of miscommunication. The reality is that in attempting to keep the peace, and bite his cheek, the curse wielder is likely to appear extremely cold and detached. To the point of bordering into insensitive that can leave you with the feeling of emotional abandonment.

During these times in which he believes he is preserving the relationship and defending it, he is completely unaware of how you have grown silent during dinner, that his shoulder recoils from your touch.

Dead bedroom ahead.

It’s because of this that owning your part in the conflict is the preferred route to voyage down. Withe he will still attempt to safeguard the relationship and stuff down that little bit of conflict, with a gentle approach, he’s likely to come undone. The concept that you would handle him so delicately is foreign to him. He’s putty.

I’m not joking. While the Death Womb Paintings care and would die for one another, as the oldest brother, Choso has always bore all of the responsibility. Has entrusted himself with the task to carve a path to the future whether it was a course that was a painful duty or not. He always took the responsibility, and a part of him wishes that he had the inner strength to do so in a relationship, especially in the beginning. He very will try to fake it, but it’s not going to be… successful.

Choso grapples with self-doubt. Just as he claims responsibility, he also bears the burden of all failed attempts and conflicts. Even the smallest of infringement will leave him with the impression that he has failed his brothers, and all others within his vicinity.

Though he will never admit it, it’s evident in the way he carries himself. How he lingers on every word, expresses the knot in his throat as he mulls over every detail. The sorcerer craves validation. Reassurance that he has done the right thing, that he has always done the best with what he was provided. More so, he is especially delicate when it comes to criticism.

An unexpected people pleaser, I mean I don’t blame you for being surprised at how his mouth draws a natural line, but for those he cares about, he cares so deeply for the opinion of those within his circle. So much so that any slipped comment can bruise his ego, and create a small wedge between the two of you.

Though if you were to adjust your input into something constructive with ways that he can improve, or ways that you would prefer how he approaches something in your relationship, you would be amazed that any anxieties will be nullified. He’s leaned into every word you utter, an advice you have to offer.

Especially if this is bedroom talk, he is taking mental notes if not actual physical notes for him to recite. He really does want to learn, he wants to do his best, to be his best for you, and if you are willing to offer the road map without any pretenses, he is ready to set sail.

Truthfully, for Choso a bit of patience in arguments or disputes can approach everything with more ease than you would expect. Especially as time goes on and he feels secure in your relationship, he will be much more forth coming. Choso is a deeply passionate man who can allow his inner desires to drive him, and to know that he has ever come off as uncaring is devastating. He will do everything within his power to ensure that this never happens again.

Another reason I feel he could be a candidate for a yandere.

Jealousy is a delicate topic for Choso. On one hand, in the early stages of a relationship, it is as natural as breathing. It is as simple as the fold of his fingers through your own as he clutches them tightly, anchoring you to his body as his teeth meet at unforgiving at the slender curve of your neck, and the bruising of ownership that follows.

Coupled with his natural self-doubt and the circumstances of his birth and the treatment of his siblings, it goes without saying, Choso is not a trusting man. He is cautious, and takes every movement with sincere disposition, ready to withdraw at the slightest detection of something lurking beneath the surface. Trust is not easily earned for the Death Womb Painting, but his scorn if he feels he has been wrong certainly is. Ask Itadori.

In the beginning, he has the tendency to become jealous over small little things. Such as the joyful flit of your laughter that meets his ears as your giggle at another person’s joke. He can feel his nose wrinkle, the arche of his brow, and the clench of his teeth. Though it does not occur to him that he is angry until he has nearly ripped you from your seat. Oh, gods does he feel remorseful for it later, but for now... his priority is separating you from this threat.

How a name keeps dripping from your tongue as you discuss your day-to-day, a repeat customer, a friendly co-worker, all of it has him clutching his fists and biting his teeth, but the moment you dare to praise him. To admit that you found this person’s work ethic commendable or dare to express that you find this individual reliable, he can be quite vengeful in his handling of you that night.

Remember how I expressed how he can be especially vengeful? You dare to flirt with another, you will find that he will do everything within his will to remind you who you belong to, and if it has strayed further.

He’s toying with how he will enact his revenge.

However, I don’t feel like this would last forever. Truthfully, in the beginning he is weary, nervous, and frightened. It was so easy for others to become manipulated and danced into schemes that they never intended. He just doesn’t trust this perpetrator, even if you do so yourself.

If you haven’t guessed, it’s not materialistic offers that elicit his jealousy. A person offering lavish bouquets or gaudy jewelry is not likely to attract his interest. Rather he’ll meet them with a stale, dead pan stare as he tries to fathom why they thought this would ever work on you.

You can expect that as time goes on, Choso is more subjective, a little more tamed than he was in the beginning stages of the relationship. He feel secure in your reassurance, in your sincerity, and the tender reminders you sprinkle to the kiss upon his cheek only furthers his safety. Reaffirms the security in his life, and eases all of his fears from his shoulders, and so, he can for the most part, laugh at any who dare to attempt flirting, knowing fully well that he will savor the elicit rejection your return to such offers. His smile is tucked into the palm of his hand.

No, it’s the simpler approaches. The man who leans in close to whisper into your ear, the way his hand grazes your own, how his eyes meet your own, these are the type of things to have him boiling in range, a lethal aura radiating off him.

It comes without saying that Choso is fiercely protective of those he deems worthy.

It’s not intentional to be resource guarding. Even though it has flitted over to that area. It is in many ways, the genuine side of his nature. He is guided by his concern, by his love, and is rooted in all of the best intentions. He adores you, he worships you. The curse dipped sorcerer yearns for security, to know that all is well in your world, and that you can live without fear—and he will make sure of it.

So much so that, Choso’s protective nature can seize all of his thoughts, and can kidnap all of his senses to a place far out of touch, allowing his desires to shelter to run rampant in its wake.

He will go to extreme lengths to protect those around him and will sacrifice everything to ensure your and those he cares for’s safety. At all costs. He will not hesitate to safeguard what he deems precious.

And because of this, any infringement can be especially ruthless.

In love and a committed relationship, physical touch will be explored with great consideration. He did not dare to approach Yuji with the more explicit stuff, but took the advice for the beginning stages, before being pushed more explicit material by Tuskumo. Oh she delighted in giving him everything in her inventory as well as suggesting specific paragraphs. Yet, you will find that for all of his research, he is almost sloppy in his initial approach.

He’s touched starved, desperately yearning to wrap his fingers around your own, thread his fingers through your hair. To press promises, lifelong promises to your lips as they meet his own. Etch his soul int the press of your skin and succumb to the depth of your cry as everything he has read is out the window. Guided by lust and devotion.

Though at times it can be easily to believe that Choso is only committed to physical touch as a love language because of the sexual nature, and way he gets far too carried away, it could not be further from the reality. He is guided by his deep need for connection. The implied depth of intimacy that comes with this step.

The poison blood wielder is not the sort to simply entertain someone’s bedroom because the need has arisen within him. He’d rather just take care of that himself. The yearning is not something he is unfamiliar with and can easily fend off if need be. Though he wouldn’t dream of spending time alone when you have all his yearning. No, it is the weight of your hand in his own. The significance of causal embraces, the ability to trace the lines at the high of your cheeks.

There is nothing that contents him more than to simply snuggle against you in the dead quiet of the night. The sense of pride and assurance he feels as you tug on his hand in the public streets, or cozy up against him during a winter stroll.

Words of affection do not come naturally to Choso in many ways. The most familiarity he has with the concepts is that of an older brother consoling a younger sibling, and for obvious reasons, this will not fit the bill in a relationship.

Choso is a man of action and believes strongly that the way he handles everything--- the meaningful approaches he takes to pour himself into the other relationship is proof of his devotion, and the concept of having to verbally express this can cause him pause.

There’s a stall as he attempts to navigate the concept of unabashed praise. The first round of attempts will result in muddled sputtering that in no way bears any resemblance to speech. His ears bathed in red, and the way he averts his eyes. As time goes on, he will successfully articulate broken speech patterns to thread together some form of praise, compliments that are sincere, but mangled. Small cracks in his voice, the shy touch of his knuckle against his cheeks as though masking his reaction to his own feeble voice.

It’s extremely difficult for him to articulate his feelings, to offer sweet nothings without pause, and though it may not seem it, he truly is trying. It just may not be as fluid as you desire in a partner. Maybe one day he’ll get there. But he may not.

To be fair, any word of praise you offer him will be delicious, but oh will the response be even more so. If you have a kink for blushing, lay into him.

Gift giving will be… comical.

I’m so sorry, but…

You can imagine that the only experience that he has with gift giving is buying small gifts for his siblings, little pinwheels, stuffed animals, and toy cars that he had witnessed small children playing with on the street. He has no idea what constitutes as a good gift for a lover. He certainly knows what others Tsukumo would recommend in the adult content. But that doesn’t feel right, by any means, and so he is left to lament staring at packages.

Package within each hand, the knot of his brow as he struggles to understand the implied meaning behind each gift. The significance of either, befuddled as he struggles to understand why Tokumo would suggest such options, or what it is they do. Yet, despite the sensual images plastered on each package, he cannot fight the gnawing feeling that this… isn’t right. He can feel the knot that has begun to settle in the base of his throat, choked in frustration as he struggles to determine what would be a good option. Until the pat of a hand meets his back happily, unaware that he had drawn the attention of a sorcerer, Takuma. The grin from ear to ear as he pats his shoulder nonchalantly, never quite grasping the necessity of space in greeting before his eyes fall to the items in his hand. The forced smile of the younger has simply assured Choso, that this isn’t it. And as Takuma muddles through the awkward expression that is fitting on his brow, an inquiry of what he’s up to settles the matter fairly quickly and erases the extreme discomfort from the interaction. Allowing Takuma to simply settle into a reassurance figure that simply nods when Choso expresses his intentions, and pauses with a soft smile. “I think you should pick what feels right.” Easing the explicit images from the man’s hand, and encourages Choso to think on the gift rather than follow another’s suggestion. Following the older being to wander vender to vender, and welcomes the smile that forms on his face when Choso shows what he has found. “I think [LN] would love that.”

It’s always going to be good boy Ino, but were’ here for Choso.

It’s a bubble wand.

His gifts will be small tokens, composed of everything he can recount you sharing with him, small things with a bit of assurance in the beginning that you would never turn down, such things as candy, bubble wands, paint kits, little things that almost seem childish to an extent, but are placed in the sincereness.

In receiving a gift, Choso will keep everything you offer him, even if he doesn’t understand why you would gift him, whatever this is, but he is pleased none the less to accept it. A small smile as he accepts the gift, and holds it with delicate fingers. He’ll treasure it, even if he never uses it properly.

With Choso’s natural care taking tendencies, it’s no surprise that Acts of Servie is not an area that he struggles in. He is in many ways far too devoted to it that he often comes off more micromanagement than affectionate. Yet, the duty he takes to take care of your every wish and need is not one that should be overlooked. He is affectionate, and thoughtful. Quick to pick up extra creamer for your coffee, or your preferred milk [dairy, goat, almond, or even oatmilk], he simply knows you need it for your afternoon tea. I also imagine that he will do his best to try to learn how to navigate this electric kettle, but it will definitely be a few go rounds until he has it right. Maybe a few fires, again he is not accustomed to this modern world. Give him time.

Quality time is Choso’s preferred love language, and one that comes naturally. Any free time he has, he is content to drift into your orbit. Just to remain at your side. Whether you wish to go on an outing, to explore some zoo in the area or theme park, even a movie date, but for Choso, he’s honestly content to just linger nearby as you finish work, or are engulfed in a recent game release. Low key is amazed at your ability to control that little box with blue and red on it. Becomes excited when you offer to teach him, and the press of your front to his back as you guide his fingers.

There really is no struggle to have him spend time with him—he is so eager and forthcoming to gift you every moment he has to offer. Regardless of how you desire to use it. He’s just happy to be near you.

The reality is, to be loved by Choso is to know commitment. It’s to know unwavering devotion that will not fade as eternity claim you. It ‘s sacrifice, it is long hours placed in one another’s care. It is the stern of his voice, a light reprimand as he tenderly cares for a laceration at the side of your cheek. It is adoration verified by the dedication of his presence. The relentless hours he pours himself into the vow of your relationship. It’s gentle touches, the way his fingers curl around a strand of hair as his gaze lingers to your lips. It’s the late hours as his eyes wander your figure, the gentle way he tucks the blanket to your sleeve, and whispers sweet nothings at the marks of his admiration that lingers upon your exposed skin. It’s simple pleasures, small moments of intimacy, and of innocence. To be embraced for childish delights such as playing on a swing, or the meticulous way he weaves arbutus, azalea, orange blossoms, and daffodils into your hair all bearing significance. Strands carefully tucked behind your ear. To know the security that there is no other in this existence for him, to know that an existence without you at his side is meaningful, to know his affection will never stray. Nor will it be claimed by another. Its loyalty laced in every fiber of his being, evident in how his eyes stay upon you. Trace your figure, memorize your laughter, and lean into your touch. It’s love that knows truth, and valor poured into his blood and bones, and bent to security. Into love, into you. To know that you are the son, and he is the delicate sunflower that seeks your gaze.

He will remain by your side.

Regardless of what dangers he faces.

His life is yours to claim.

#choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #thesorcerersinarelationship

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