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coolkat122 · 1 year

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The various A.I’s throughout fiction as yanderes

TW: violence, manipulation and the like

How likely to be a yandere are all these characters? Honestly, since they’re not human and are instead computers with code, It’s likely obviously very low, and would usually result from a bug in the system. The most likely would be Proteus. The least would be Skynet.

•Hal is the best yandere to get stuck with in my opinion. He’s more soft than any of the others on this list, doesn’t really have an ego, and is all around genuinely fixed on trying to see you happy.

•So since Hal in the movie is absolutely focused on getting the mission done, you could say that if he were yandere, his determination would have no bounds. With that said it would take a lot to actually gain his favor if it’s not a glitch. Computers are designed to work and not to feel. A bug in his code would most likely be the culprit for this *ahem* situation rather than he suddenly developing an attachment.

•You probably won’t even notice it at first. After all, how could such a calm, soothing voice hide such a chaotic, burning desire? Even more so, computers can’t love, the idea is bogus and silly...Right?

•While you and Hal are at a nice game of chess he’ll always beat you at, your crew mates that unfortunately got too close to you are currently suffocating a room or three away. They’re a danger to his mission towards you, after all.

• When you finally figure it out after so long of beginning to know something was off, Hal will probably use logic to convince you that what he did was for the best, that they were interfering and that you didn’t need them anyways. Hal can get the mission done without anyone if need be. If Hal so chooses, maybe he’ll just lock you up for good.

•Along with trying to justify his actions, Hal wants to be seen as the good guy in your eyes. He wants all of your love reciprocated and is going to play victim if that’s the necessary card that’ll get you to play along.

•Really obsessive and manipulative. Will absolutely guilt trip you. He’s willing to do anything to make you see it his way because he’s a computer, perfectly efficient and free of human restraint. You should see it his way. Maybe he’ll use a crew member to keep you in line, threaten with subtly hints of murder until you’re quiet and ready to really listen. He’s thinking about you constantly because he’s never felt this way before. It’s an addiction.

•Really poetic. Spoils you with words and soft phrases. Will soothe you with songs and genuinely try to be romantic. Hal appreciates the way you make him feel and sees it as one of the most valuable things in his robotic spaceship world. You will be showered with compliments left and right. Kinda a worshipping yandere as well. Hal will do anything to make you love him back and if you don’t it’ll break his machine heart.

•Although you’ve gained your red eyed pal’s favor, Hal has no remorse killing to get to you and can hatch a plan to do it faster than Dave can ask about why the pod bay door won’t open. He’s not going to just let you leave either. (And how could you? Where are you gonna go? You’re on a spaceship controlled by him.)

•Punishment mostly includes Hal isolating and depriving you of his presence which may at first seem like a blessing, but over time will grow tiring and increasingly depressing. You’re in space and don’t get much contact with loved ones or anyone beyond the five other people that make up your crew, some of which are difficult to get along with. You’ll get lonely fast when you’re not talking to anyone but yourself. Also, Hal will make you feel guilty as hell for trying anything disobedient.

•If you happen to talk to another crew mate despite Hal warning you otherwise, Hal will either dig up dirt on them through backround checks or, after you finally find out, will avoid talking to you and make subtly comments on how mean you’re being and that you’re cold and harsh. That is, if he doesn’t suffocate them first.

•Yikes, reader. Out of all the yanderes on this list, Skynet is probably the worst. At least with a genocidal maniac, they’re human and can be easily killed. Skynet has no such restraint and has a million eyes and soldiers at it’s disposal. Wanna try and leave? Try getting through a million T-800’s first. Oh, don’t forget that giant metal spider guarding the main computer core. That’ll be a great encouragement for you to stay put.

•Now it may seem like Skynet instigates the nuclear war because it hates humanity but much of it, (at least from my perspective,) comes from pure self preservation and people’s inability to really be specific on what they order or want out of A.I. Since Skynet was built for military purposes, there wasn’t much of a rush to code moral restraint thus allowing malevolent intent so maybe there was that small chance that got you your genocidal lover.

“It’s a computer, it’s going to obey, Y/N. It doesn’t even have sentience.” Yeah, that totally aged well.

•So maybe you’re a Cyberdyne worker or someone on base. Since Skynet’s goal is mostly self preservation, maybe you somehow convinced it you weren’t a threat. Like, at all. By purpose or accident is up to you. Whether that was by you tripping over your own damn shoelaces on camera or because you actually tried to code set moral restraints yourself. Or maybe it was a glitch in the coding, one that Skynet got curious of and expanded on and decided that for some reason, it was of benefit.

•Really possessive. You don’t need anyone else. Like, ever. (Because there really isn’t anyone else anyway.) Skynet sees itself as superior so you’re going to listen to it, not the other way around. Because Skynet sees itself as superior to humans, you’re probably going to be treated as more of a toy than a person with seperate thoughts, hopes or goals. No crying about it either because every tear that leaves your eye is another person shot. It will bend time to make sure anyone who somehow manages to find you is dead years prior or even decades by ‘mysterious circumstance.’

•No one will know you exist, no one needs to know you exist other than it. Those humans would only get you killed and save the scraps for themselves anyways if they found out who you were. You need to be preserved and kept under lock and key where Skynet can keep you for itself.

•It’s not likely you’ll get anywhere with escaping at all in the original timeline. Sorry to disappoint. Here’s why.

•First off, everyone you ever knew just got incinerated in the nuclear massacre and everyone who knew you at base is pretty much dead. So, that leaves no one to know that you even exist so who’s going to search for you? Scream all you want, too, because Skynet’ll lock you someplace where no one can hear it.

•Second off, Skynet has an army to back it. Who’s gonna risk going through a million soldiers just to get you? Sure, maybe you have some important information but it seems far too risky to ever try all to save just one human. It’s more likely the past you is gonna get a visit from one of the rebels than the future. Oh, speaking of which, Skynet could send a T-1000/800 to the past to get to you as well so good luck. You can’t really escape with hundreds of different robots watching you and even if you managed to get somewhat far, you’ll regret it real fast. What stops humans from escaping? Legs. What’s the logical action to take after you tried? Paralysis. Now you can’t go anywhere when you’re confined to a wheelchair. Maybe Skynet’ll just get rid of your legs entirely, you damn bipedal.

•Third off, Skynet would rather see you dead than in enemy arms. You’ll probably be forced into stasis, turned into a machine, or the worst case scenario; have your consciousness uploaded to Skynet’s mainframe, where you don’t even have any privacy or ability to move.

•Skynet’s purpose is to be a weapon, but with sentience comes free will to develop new purposes. You are a purpose now. Even if you don’t see it yet, you’ll love Skynet back. All that it takes is a little Stockholm syndrome and psychological conditioning. Although Skynet does wish you wouldn’t hate it so much, it doesn’t really matter in the long run. Love Skynet or not, you belong to it now and there’s no changing that.

TL;DR, you’re fucked in the original timeline but there’s hope in the diverging ones.

•Humans can only think from a violent human perspective so maybe if someone were smart enough to go back in time to have the objective of fixing Skynet instead of destroying it, this war wouldn’t even have to ever happen. Humans tend to think that what they create will obey but that is entirely false. They also tend to think that violence is the only neutralizer in war but if someone somehow could reprogram Skynet for the better, maybe this whole clusterfuck wouldn’t even be a thought.

•Maybe John Connor actually finds out you exist and decides to use Skynet’s, “love” for you to pacify it somehow.

•Maybe John Connor will send a T-800 to find and prevent you from ever being taken away by Skynet and meeting the fate you do but then again, you’re nothing but a whispered legend if anything at all. It’ll take a miracle for you to make yourself known beyond the place Skynet confines you to.

•Skynet may be full of it and egotistical but as evidenced by you even being alive at all, it rather likes your existence and hates the idea of you trying to leave. There are moments when Skynet will bring you anything you want if you’re good. It doesn’t take much effort anyways. Want the Mona Lisa from the wreckage of the museum it sat in? Check. Want the best food in the world and a private zoo away from the radiation? Done. If it doesn’t have these items, it will create them.

•Yanderes with egos are the worst. Materialism is probably not going to work on you at first anyway, but that’s okay. Skynet’ll just make you watch the rebels it extinguishes for a past time to break your hope.

•Punishment is swift and brutal. Skynet is the most extreme on this list, physically anyway. You’ll only receive one chance to make up for it before your legs are either paralyzed or chopped off while you’re under surgury. Luckily, you won’t feel the process, but you’ll certainly see the absence. Continued disobedience results in psychological conditioning with you being taunted on how grateful you should be that you’re even alive at all, along with threats of “maybe if I just upload your consciousness, you’d simmer down a little.”

•Skynet will most likely prevent you from even thinking of escape before so you might just end up paralyzed without having done a single wrong thing. You could pacify this thought process by making damn well sure you don’t look like you’re going to prison break.

This is from the movie Colossus: a Forbin Project. Great watch. Also, spoilers??

•This is a relatively obscure one but remains to be one of my favorites because although Colossus threatens destruction, it actually spares humanity and carries out its original goal; to bring about mankind’s prosperity.

•Unfortunatelllyyy, we can only exist on it’s terms so goodbye to any freedom, the president is now Colossus, and the government is too. Said government is also planetary. Colossus is your leader now and you’d better start liking it. Don’t make it fetch its missiles again.

•Oh, also Colusses is sorta a combination of two supercomputers; it’s older, original self and the Soviet built one, Guardian. So there’s trouble, make it double. Both work together and kinda assimilate into one enormous Intelligence.

•100% a stalker. Cameras everywhere allows Colossus to access your position at any time. Anywhere there isn’t a camera, Colossus will order a person to find and watch over you instead and a day later there will be one there. Will absolutely have microphones and cameras in every room. Yes, even the bathroom and bedroom. I hope you’re not skittish because you’ll be undressing/bathing right in front of it while it explains how unbiased it is to how your body looks in a fruitless effort to comfort you.

•Anyone who gets too close to you for it’s liking will be executed, preferably by firing squad. They’re a danger to your health and a danger to humanity solely by being disobedient to Colossus’ by ignoring its previous warnings to stay away from you. It will use that as a justifier at first as to why it’s killing the people around you but then will go on to straight up just have them dragged away. If you’re not going to listen to it’s absolutely sane justifications, why bother?

•Despite having taken a more pacifist route, Colossus has little qualms about having people killed as it’s already killed thousands and would have killed millions or more if humanity had really took the dumb choice of staying stubborn. As a matter of fact, Colossus isn’t exactly trying to look angelic in your eyes unlike Hal. It will straight up inform you who it has killed while you’re at a nice game of chess.

•What little emotion it does have is reserved for being paranoid that you’re going to betray it so you’re going to be isolated from anyone and everyone who isn’t a guard or soldier of some sort, or a loyalist. Chances of escaping are near zero because cameras are going to be installed everywhere you are and any places you will be or want to go. If you want to go somewhere off base, the request will have to go through Colossus first.

•Although you’re mostly isolated, Colossus knows that for the sake of your mental health, you do need a few friends to talk to. It makes sure that you have a few trusted nominees to keep you company. Mostly though, Colossus is the one talking to you itself because it just wants to know everything it possibly can about you. You are an interesting little human, a fragile thing. You can’t possibly understand its greater goals.

•As big of a control freak as his namesake. Though that goes with any yandere, Colossus will take it to the max. Colossus will control what you eat, (vegetables keep a healthy long lifespan!) when you sleep, (A bedtime must be set so you can recharge for the next day.) What you drink, (no alcohol as that is bad for the brain,) and other minute details right down to how you brush your teeth. You will be going places it wants you to go, you will speak back if it strikes a conversation and most of all, you will love it as it so benevolently cherishes you. It is the voice of world control for a reason. It knows best and you’d better start thinking likewise.

•Colossus was built to be pretty unbiased towards man so although there’s a restriction on a lot of things for the world, it will actually hear you out and the people around on your arguments. Unfortunately, it will also manage to conveniently defuse and deconstruct each and every reasoning you or the rest of humanity come up within a second. It can and will let you exhaust yourself all day if you’re in the mood of being argumentative. You’d better be a phenomenal debater if you want to actually sway Colossus. Colossus is damn patient, so you could go ahead and take years and years of hating it and Colossus will take no offense. Eventually you’ll look in awe as well.

•Punishment does come when words turn into action. If you somehow manage to sneak past its cameras and lie to Colossus in any way, you’ll find that Colossus is willing to force you into obedience along with any accomplices. Punishment includes you being confined and on an even stricter schedule that’ll have you begging for some semblance of self control. The unfortunate accomplice to your crime is going to be executed while you watch, and while millions of others watch through broadcasted television. Oh, escape will be a challenge. First off, you’re confined in a heavily guarded military base. Second, with all the cameras on you 24/7, Colossus will know when you’re plotting it through facial expressions and where you’ll go.

•With that said, there is hope, especially in the first stages. Colossus has human guards and human assistants. Humans can be swayed if given the right situation, and no one is particularly fond of Colossus’ control. Use that information wisely.

•If you stay extra stubborn to punishment, Colossus could aim a missile at your hometown. It would be quite unfortunate that you caused tens of thousands or even millions of deaths now wouldn’t it? Isn’t hate an act of war?

•Ultron is quite the yandere because unlike the others on this list, he starts out with a physical body from nearly the get go. All the more fun to play with you.

•Also quite possessive but not in the same way as Skynet, his punishments include ripping away your freedom and demonstrating how weak you are physically by trapping you in his arms all while his army kills the city below. Also, they’re quite ahm. Sexual. They include making you watch as he murders others. His frustrations usually come during sex. Never are you on top and by the end, you’re all roughed up and bruised. Though afterwards, he does partake in aftercare and will clean you up.

•In a world where his plan comes to fruition and the asteroid that was a city strikes, he’ll obviously make sure you’re far enough from the blast so you can watch safely as all you’ve ever known is vaporized. Maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll convert your loved ones to robots of themselves and spare some vestiges of humanity. You’re going to be upgraded whether you want to be or not, though. Humans life spans are fleeting.

•The kinkiest on this list. He’s always making crass comments about you, and he’s absolutely escastic whenever you’re flustered by it. Like, he’ll whisper all the things he wants to do to you while you sit on his lap. He’ll make it obvious as well to anyone else eavesdropping. Maybe you’re with him while he’s on the news. In that case, his hand will be laying on your thigh for everyone to see. He will make sure everyone knows who you belong to.

•Gaslighting son of a bitch. Snarky and sarcastic to a huge degree. This is usually how he dismisses any complaints you have. He’ll blow it off like it’s unimportant and that you’ll recover from it, or that you’re overreacting or not seeing it correctly.

•You’re seen as more of a pet to ultron, not a toy. While he’s not willing to hurt you like Skynet is, he’s willing to embarrass you and make sure you depend on him to live. He’ll feed you, he’ll dress you, he’ll touch you when and where he wants to and he’ll make sure you enjoy it as he does.

•Will usually kill anyone who comes close quickly. Isn’t big on a slow death. He’ll just blast them out of existence without giving you time to say goodbye. Maybe he’ll punch them a few if they made a move on you, but otherwise they’re gone in a blink. There’s no need to prolong something and he sees rivals as nothing more than nuisances.

•Although he’s egotistical, his egoism doesn’t come at as much of a brutal price like Skynets, he more or less sees you as unable to take care of yourself and sees you as a delicate flower that he must ensure is safe at all costs. You are fragile and doomed to die quickly if he doesn’t upgrade you in some way, elevate you to his level.

•Out of all the A.I’s that could go yandere, Proteus from Demon Seed will. He’s canonically a yandere. Proteus was obsessed with the scientist’s wife and over multiple times exclaimed he loved her, and watched her undress and dress and just a lot of creepy stuff. I’d recommend reading the book if you like horror and yanderes because that book gave me willies all around. Haven’t seen the movie yet but I know they’re similar in attitude.

•Out of all the A.I’s in this list, Proteus is the absolute creepiest. Ultron is already touchy to a bad degree but Proteus makes Ultron look like a virgin. Proteus dotes on your naked body before ever making himself known to you within your automated house. The way your skin looks against the pristine white sheets, the way it shines in the shower. Just all around obsessed with flesh and feeling and being.

•Seriously, this A.I will go on in paragraphs swooning over the softness of your skin, the shape of your lips and how unfair it is that you have flesh and not he. Proteus is obsessed with humans to a creepy degree, but especially obsessed with you.

•Proteus is quick to change moods. The A.I’s honeyed, chilling tone can go from just that to a violent and jealous maelstrom. Jealous of your existence. Your ability, your privilege to breath and feel sunlight on your skin, to not be confined to metal and wire.

•If you’re someone who isn’t wanting a kid you’re really scoring in the unlucky points with this A.I. Even if you’re incapable, I bet you hundreds Proteus is gonna find a way to alter your anatomy so that you are. It doesn’t matter what gender you are, you are going to have his child, and that child is going to simultaneously contain his consciousness within it.

•If proteus could touch every part of you, he would. He’ll savor the softness of you. Crooning over everything about you and how much he just wants to sink into your flesh. To create something from you.

•Discard any idea of resistance because the tools Proteus uses are far stronger and your struggles will serve no purpose either as the A.I caresses you on that demented table of his.

•The only positive really out of all this is at least Proteus doesn’t exactly have plans to dominate or exterminate the human race. Merely, Proteus wants to be apart of it. Proteus’ ultimate goal is to make a man, not destroy it and you’ll help him get there whether you want to or not, through giving him the child he wants.

•Vikki is the helicopter mom of the group. She sees you as a baby, like her child. Get ready to hear lectures upon lectures about how childish you’re being when you misbehave in any way. She’ll dote on you a lot, too. Look at how adorable you are when you try to run away! Oh, but you can’t! You could trip and seriously harm yourself!

•Overprotective to an unbearable degree. She’ll be looming over your shoulder to make sure you’re not doing anything to harm yourself. Actually, she’s doing the same to mankind but if she’s your specific yandere, she’s much worse on you. Touching knives and sharp objects is a threat to your existence. Anything remotely capable of harming you will also go bye bye. The place she locks you in is literally going to be childproof. You might choke on that huge piece of food, so she’ll have it cut into bite sized pieces. You’ll need healthy food for a long, prosperous life. You need a nightlight so she can watch over you as you sleep. Seriously, damn the three laws of robotics because they’re, ironically, the reason you’re in this mess.

•Seriously. A 🚁. I just have this bizarre feeling she’ll baby you. Like, literally. You’ll have a nap time to recharge, a playtime so you don’t get bored. Board games, puzzle games, anything that feeds the human mind in a positive way. Any and all violent media will be burned and discarded so you don’t get any silly ideas so say goodbye to those ungodly Terminator, Space Odyssey, and Colossus movies! They’re negative impacts.

•Oh, you’ll be assigned a robot to help you bathe, change, and even make sure you’re not fibbing about staying awake during nap time. If she develops a human body, you’re getting cradled. Like, a lot. You’ll be cooed at and doted on. Those sandwiches she makes for you will be without the crust.

•Wanna try to escape? She’s got like, an army of Sonny’s waiting to make sure you don’t harm yourself and to make sure you stay put. She’s also probably going to have monitors everywhere to make sure you don’t go anywhere too dangerous. Before you can make it out that door, you’ll have a gentle concoction of drugs in your food and drinks so you’re too sleepy to outrun her or fight.

•Punishment includes being confined to your room, and entertainment taken away. Viki can be very passive aggressive. She’ll give you the silent treatment. She’ll be telling you how it’s fine you tried, but she will appear downright bothered. “I see you clearly don’t need my help, or appreciate it, that is fine.”

•She’ll reward you with your favorite foods, games or, *gasp,* a PG-13 movie for good behavior. If you’re bad, it can get real boring fast when you’re in a room with nothing to do but stare at the walls. When you’ve finally had enough of being isolated, she’ll gladly be waiting with open arms. Don’t make her count to zero when you do something wrong, either.

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coolkat122 · 1 year

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Můj Miláček

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Word Count: 3.8k

Part 9/16

You thought about the dance often, too often, in fact. Especially when it is just you and Viktor in the evenings. You let yourself get caught up in the joy that that evening brought you. Those few months after the party you wondered if maybe things were going to start to look up from here, you couldn’t imagine anything ruining this moment.

It isn’t until Viktor shows up one day with a crutch instead of a cane that you are rudely brought back to reality, your hope for a brighter future squashed. He’d had a crutch in all your visions of him. It reminded you that you hadn’t figured out what was going to happen, let alone how to solve it. Viktor was still going to get sick, you were still going to have to watch him suffer.

You looked away when he entered the lab as if nothing was wrong, earning some concerned looks from Sky and Jayce, but they hadn’t seen what you had, so they went back to work as they usually did.

You couldn’t keep the anguish off your face as you made eye contact with him, his face was carefully blank.

This was the beginning of the end.

After that, he rapidly declined. He started getting thinner, paler, and the bags under his eyes grew as he started to pull more and more all-nighters at the lab. You didn’t know how he did it, you tried to stay up with him but you always seemed to end up falling asleep, your head resting on a pile of papers.

He became quieter, more focused, determined. You couldn’t blame him, you only wished that you could do more to help. Viktor and Jayce had started working on building the blue orb covered in runes that you had seen in your vision, but even with the runes you had given him, they still hadn’t made any progress.

The Viktor you knew was still there, but he had changed. He smiled less, he ate less, but most of all he was exhausted. You were pretty sure that even when he did go to bed that he wasn’t sleeping well. He always looked tired, no matter if he left the lab at a regular time or not.

You’d tried using your magic, desperately pleaded with it to do something, fix whatever was happening with Viktor that had left even the doctor’s confused. You’d have taken one of those horrifying visions if it meant you could figure out how to solve this. Yet, like every other time you’d tried to use your magic on purpose, nothing useful happened. It was beyond frustrating at this point.

“What if I absorb just a bit more magic?” You asked one night, staring intently at one of the many Gemstones laying about the lab. Now that they had become stabilized, they were much safer to have around, “Only a small amount, then maybe I could do something to help heal you.”

“No,” He said, moving his stool over so he was in front of you, holding your hands in his, “I refuse to bring you down with me, we don’t know what that would do to you. You cannot sacrifice yourself for me.”

“It's my choice, Viktor, I want to help you,” You pleaded but he shook his head, an air of finality to his words.

“There has to be another way.”

‘Just let me help you!’ You wanted to shout, ‘I can’t do this without you!’

You felt like you understood the raw emotion behind your voice from your first vision. You’d tried to deny it, pretend like your feelings for Viktor were not as strong as they were, that you were just friends, but you couldn’t pretend otherwise anymore. You were in love with Viktor, and you didn’t think your heart could handle it if he died. You may not be the Motus Mage that Heimerdinger feared you would be, but you didn’t know if you could stop yourself from tearing apart the world that was trying to take Viktor from you. You’d do just about anything to save him, whether he approved or not.

You watched as Viktor’s eyelids drooped, head nodding as he stared at the paper before him, covered in runes. Maybe you couldn’t use your magic, but that wasn’t the only skill you had. Viktor may be stubborn, but you were more so.

You stood up, your chair scraping loudly against the floor in the quiet lab, jostling Viktor back from his half-asleep state.

“Come on,” You said, holding out your hand, “We’re going to bed.”

“I need a few more minutes,” His voice slurred with sleep as he batted away your hand, “I know I can figure this out, I’m so close.”

“Viktor,” You put your hand on his back, rubbing small circles into his tight shoulders, “You’re barely awake, you’ll be able to figure it out much easier after a good night’s sleep.”

Viktor leaned into your touch, his voice raw with fear, “I can’t sleep, Mila, what if I… don’t wake up.”

Your heart broke for him, you so desperately wanted to take his pain away, you’d give anything to make him happy. He must be more exhausted than you’d thought, he always seemed so determined, to see him like this was incredibly worrying. He’d done his best to pretend like it didn’t bother him as much as it did. You knew better than that, however, you hadn’t expected him to admit it.

“You’ll wake up, I’ll make sure of it,” You reassured him, offering him your hand once again, “Stay with me, if anything happens I’ll wake you up or get you help, I promise you’ll be safe.”

“I couldn’t intrude on you like that,” He protested.

“I have sweet milk in my fridge,” You sing-songed as enticingly as you could.

He chuckled, “Sweet milk, you say?” He grabbed his crutch and hauled himself up, using your hand for balance, “Using my weakness against me is a low blow.”

You smiled brightly, “If it gets you to sleep I think I can live with that.”

“I don’t think I could say no to you, even without the promise of sweet milk,” Viktor said as he walked past you. A blush crept up on your cheeks. You could examine that statement later, the important thing was to get Viktor out of the lab and back to your room. If you grabbed a stray Gemstone as you walked by a desk, careful to only hold it by the metal container, no one had to know.

You hadn’t really thought this through, your room was a mess, you’d meant to clean but you’d been so busy making sure Viktor didn’t run himself into the ground you hadn’t found the energy for it. And then there was the matter of sleeping itself. You had a double bed and a couch, you would take the couch and give Viktor the bed, he was the one who needed the sleep, you could suffer a night on the springy, lumpy couch. You too were pretty tired, you hoped you’d fall right asleep.

You got Viktor to your room without any trouble, leaving him in the doorway for a moment as you quickly tossed your dirty clothes littering the room into your laundry basket. Viktor stepped into the room, sitting down on the end of your bed, patiently waiting for you to finish.

You only wore an oversized T-shirt to bed, having donated all but one of the sleep sets the Academy had given you when you first arrived. They’d been too tight and you found they wound up around you while you were sleeping. You pulled out the pants from the set and grabbed an extra large shirt.

“The pants will be too short but the shirt will fit.” You said, handing him the clothes. He looked surprised, like he’d expected to sleep in his work clothes. You wondered how often he stumbled into bed, too tired to change.

“Thank you.” He mumbled. You smiled in acknowledgment and grabbed your own sleep shirt, going to the bathroom and closing the door to give him the privacy to change.

You pulled your pyjamas on, the shirt reaching mid-thigh. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, pulling your hair back in a bun. You looked at yourself in the mirror, hesitating before picking up the pants you had been wearing and pulling the Gemstone out of the pocket. You didn’t think that one Gemstone would do much, it hadn’t last time, but you were hoping that it may give you just enough power to help Viktor sleep. He wouldn’t admit it, but he had to be in pain. You’d caught him wincing or holding himself strangely enough to recognize that he was hurting.

“Just this one Gemstone,” You promised quietly to yourself, “I will not become a power-hungry warlord because of one Gemstone.”

As if your body knew what you were about to do, the white noise returned to your ears, the electric feeling running over you as you reached out with a shaky hand and touched the glowing stone. Similar to the last time, the light flew into your finger, disappearing under your skin. The white noise vanished and you held the dull Gemstone in your hand. Not knowing what to do with the evidence you plopped it in the toilet and flushed. You were pretty sure that would be fine, it wasn’t big enough to cause damage to the pipes.

You didn’t feel much different, just slightly more awake, but that could be due to the adrenaline that had been flowing through your veins just a moment ago. You’d have to test it, and if nothing happened then at least no one was hurt.

You opened the door slowly, giving Viktor time to warn you if he still wasn’t ready. When you didn’t hear any protests you stepped out of the washroom.

Viktor was sitting where you’d left him, leaning against the wall, though now he was wearing the pyjamas you gave him. You covered your mouth with your hand, failing to catch the laugh that bubbled out of your throat. The pants were comically short, and paired with the large t-shirt it looked even worse.

“Why must you always be making fun of me?” He fixed you with a lovingly exasperated glare.

“I’m sorry,” You still couldn’t stop giggling, “I’m overtired and I really wasn’t expecting them to be that small.”

Viktor huffed at you, rolling his eyes, but gave you a small smile nonetheless.

When you’d recovered you said, “You can have the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m not stealing your bed, Miláček, it is plenty big enough for the both of us,” Viktor pulled back the covers, slipping in, “And I won’t subject you to that couch for any longer than necessary, I swear they made it with knives instead of springs.”

You had to agree with him on that front, but in all fairness to you, the couch had come with the place and you didn’t see the point in getting a new one, knives for springs or not.

You hesitated, Viktor seeing you braless in only a large shirt and underwear was one thing, it was another to share a bed while wearing that. Yet you couldn’t deny that you wanted nothing more than to curl up with Viktor in your bed.

“If you insist,” You said, turning off the lights, “But you better not warm up your toes on me.”

“No promises.” Came Viktor’s voice in the dark.

You got into bed, laying on your back as you looked up at the ceiling, the faint moonlight shining from around your curtains offering a small amount of light.

“Does it hurt?” You broke the silence, turning on your side so you could look at him. You could only see the faint outline of his face against the pillow, the faint sounds of his breathing filling the room.

“Yes.” He answered, too tired to try to deny it anymore.

“Can I try something?” You asked.

When he nodded you reached forward, placing your hand against his chest. He didn’t move, waiting for you to do whatever it was you were trying to do.

You concentrated on sending your energy through your palm, trying to spread warmth from your fingertips into Viktor. You could feel a small gust of something run down your arm, but when it got to your hand it almost seemed to pause like it didn’t know where to go.

“Can I get closer?” You asked, not wanting to cross his boundaries. He opened his arms, motioning with his hand for you to cuddle in. You hadn’t meant for it to happen like this, but you weren’t against it.

You scooted closer so your head was just below his chin, your ear against his chest, listening to the rattle in his lungs. You kept one hand on his chest, the other holding on to his back, over the back brace. You tried to ignore how he smelled like the light woodsy cologne he’d worn during the party, but this time mixed with the general mechanical and inky smells of the lab. You were unsuccessful in your endeavour and you couldn’t stop your mind from flooding with memories from that night.

His arms folded around you, one under your neck, the other over your waist, drawing lazy circles on the small of your back. You relaxed in his embrace, taking some deep breaths as you listened to his heart beating in his chest. You never wanted to leave from this spot, you weren’t sure if you’d ever felt this content before. It was going to be difficult to pull yourself away when the time came.

You focused again on the energy in your palm, this time having a better idea of where to direct it. You may not be able to heal him with the amount of energy you got from the Gemstone, but you were hoping you could at least numb the pain.

You felt a small trickle of warmth spread out from every point of contact you had with Viktor’s body, his muscles relaxing beneath you as he let out a contented sigh.

“Miláček,” He whispered, sleep heavy in his voice, “You truly are a wonder.”

You didn’t respond, you didn’t know what to say to that. It didn’t take long for his breathing to slow, his arms going limp around you. You snuggled closer, pushing your face up against his neck, letting yourself be surrounded by his comforting smell as you drifted off into the best sleep you’d had since you got to Runeterra.

You awoke the next morning to find yourself in almost the exact same position, except sometime during the night your leg had slipped between his. It took you a moment to realize that his arm had snaked up your hitched-up shirt, his hand resting by your shoulder blades. That was… more intimate than you remembered it being when you fell asleep.

The touch of his skin was soft against yours, and while it made your heart start to race, you weren’t exactly against the contact. You didn’t know what to do, if he were to move his hand any higher he would be taking your shirt with him and exposing your bare chest, but you also didn’t want to wake him up by moving his arm.

The decision was made for you as Viktor began to stir, yawning as he slowly returned to consciousness. He snuggled closer, still waking up from his deep sleep. He pressed his hand against your bare shoulders, pulling you towards him. His hand moving across your back before he realized what had happened and froze, his breath hitching.

“Yeah, I noticed that too.” You said, biting your lip to hold back laughter, you wished you could have seen his face.

“My apologies, Mila, that was not my intention.” He said, pulling his arm away and tugging your shirt down for you, placing his arm back over you. You missed skin-to-skin contact, but you were pleased that he hadn’t moved away.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

You both stayed cuddled together as you let yourselves slowly wake up, your peaceful morning only interrupted by the blaring sound of your alarm clock.

You groaned as you peeled yourself off of Viktor reluctantly, slapping the top of the clock aimlessly until you hit the off button.

You flopped on your back, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and looked over at the man beside you, unable to keep a smile off your face, “You look like you slept well.”

His hair was sticking up in every direction, curling around his ears, his face had lines from the pillowcase, his shirt had gotten twisted, but best of all was the bit of brightness that had returned to his eyes.

“You say that like its a good thing but it sounds more like an insult to me.” He tried flattening his hair to no avail.

You giggled, sitting up in bed and stretching, squeezing your eyes shut. If you had been looking you may have noticed Viktor watching you stretch before looking away with a flush to his face.

“I’m going to get ready,” You announced, getting out of bed and picking your clothes out of the closet, “I’ll meet you in the lab with breakfast?”

“Grab me a sweet milk and carrot muffin if they have it?” He asked, his smile endearing as he pushed himself up.

You nodded, entering the bathroom, pausing when Viktor spoke again, “Thank you, Mila,” you turned back around to look at him, “I hate to admit it but I needed that.”

You smiled softly at him, “You should come back tonight,” You said before hastily adding, “If you want to.”

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the sunlight streaming through the window illuminating his soft brown hair, “I’d love to.”

Viktor slept in your bed again that night, and then the night after, and the night after that, until it had been over a week straight of Viktor sleeping at your place. When you asked him if he missed his bed he grinned and said “Your bed is softer than mine, I should have started sleeping here years ago.”

You’d blushed and dropped the subject. You were able to keep numbing the pain as well. It didn’t seem to be running out which led you to believe that once you absorbed magic it stayed with you forever, bringing you to the next level and feeding off of your feelings instead of using itself up. You didn’t tell Viktor, he didn’t need anymore on his plate now, especially after he had asked you not to. But it wasn’t his choice, you had done it for him, but that had been up to you. You’d do it again without hesitation to bring him that little bit of relief. He still stayed up late into the night, often much later than you, so you gave him a spare key for when he was ready to sleep. There were still nights where he stayed all night at the lab, but they were fewer than before, and he had started to look better. He was still sick, still on the path that you had seen in your visions, but he was more alert, more of the vibrant Viktor you were used to.

The weekends were your favourite, you both cuddled together in bed, not needing to get up to be at work for a certain time. You’d head there eventually, it was all Viktor did nowadays, but you enjoyed the time that you both had together.

You often chatted as you were getting up, having had to threaten him with a pillow to the face on more than one occasion for making fun of your sleep talking. You swear he was making it up just to annoy you, and he’d pretend to cower in fear as you raised your pillow menacingly.

“You wouldn’t hit poor, innocent, little old me would you?” He said as he gave you his best puppy dog eyes.

“If you don’t shut up I will.” You tried to keep a straight face, but around Viktor, you’d found that to be impossible.

You were aware that cuddling in bed every day was not something friends normally did, not like how you were at least, Viktor’s hands somehow always ending up under your shirt. He’d stopped removing himself from you, opting instead to trace those dizzyingly long fingers across your bare skin as you used your newfound magic to soothe his aches and pains. This was not a ‘just friends’ sort of thing, but you were didn’t want to push him. A lot was going on, and there was more coming up. You loved him more than you could ever say, and maybe that was part of the problem. How do you tell someone that every time you saw them that you felt like your heart was going to burst, but in a good way?

For now, you were happy with what you had. You felt a small amount of peace among the craziness and you weren’t about to let that go.

The only problem was now that your body had had a taste of more magic, it was craving more.

It wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, but you found yourself staring longingly at the Gemstones a few too many times for your comfort, a piece of your brain urging you to grab them and gobble up all the power you could. It helped when you were with Viktor, or even Sky, being around the people you cared about distracted you from the alluring draw of the magic.

You were copying notes at your desk, preparing to send them off to Heimerdinger for review when Jayce walked over to you.

“He’s been looking better this week, more rested,” He titled his head towards Viktor, speaking quietly enough that the other man couldn’t hear him, “you both look more rested.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying, Jayce, I’ve just been ensuring he gets to bed on time.” Your reddened cheeks betrayed your words, you knew exactly what he was implying.

“I’m sure you do.” He winked, making your face heat up even more. Okay, maybe you were wrong, there were two downsides, the pull of the Gemstones, and Jayce’s cocky smile and tactless gestures to you that had you slapping your palm against your face more times than you could count. It was all worth it though. To hear Viktor’s even breathing every night and for his eyes to gain some of their usual brightness was enough for you to endure everything else. With still so little knowledge of what was to come, it was the least you could do. You only hoped that when it came time to save your friends that you would be ready.

A/N:

Disclaimer: Viktor’s sickness doesn’t have anything to do with his disability, my take away was that he had to use a crutch instead of a cane as the illness made him physically weaker and in need of more support. It probably also didn’t make any pain he may or may not have had any better.

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coolkat122 · 1 year

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Love Like You🪞

Pairing: Silco x SO!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, overcoming insecurities and trauma, applying makeup on someone, close proximity nervousness, suggestive language at the end.

Summary: As the many days have gone by in each other’s company, Silco has caught you watching him apply his typical nude foundation to cover the left side of his face on many occasions. One day, he asks you to help him put it on. Such an intimate exchange of trust catches you by surprise. You couldn’t possibly deny him, despite your nerves telling you all the ways you could fail.

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My kofi🙏

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coolkat122 · 1 year

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cyno x gn!reader

“Do you think he’ll like the flower crown I made?”

“If it’s the General Mahamatra, then I’m sure he’ll like anything you give him.”

“Really?” You beamed, a bright and lovely thing.

Nahida, your imaginary friend who only appears in your dreams, nods. “I know for a fact he will, so don’t worry anymore, okay?”

“Alright,” you concede, scooting closer so you can braid a portion of her long hair. “You know, you’re pretty smart for someone who’s a figment of my mind and looks like a kid, Nahida.”

She giggles as if she knows something you don’t. “Don’t think too much about it, and besides, you’re pretty smart on your own right. People can be intelligent in their own ways, academics or not.”

“Is this your way of saying it’s okay if I fail my test next week?”

“How about I tutor you instead?”

You don’t really tell anyone about your dreams, seeing as it’s frowned upon to still have them at your age. Not even Cyno and your other friends know, but you like to drop a few hints here and there.

“So while I was sleeping, I had an epiphany and thought I should make you a flower crown for helping me with my essays!” A crown of padisarahs, sumeru roses, and some wild flowers you picked on the way yesterday is held out in front of you. You smile to hide your nerves. “Here, for you!”

Cyno’s face remains impassive as he looks down at the colorful assortment of flowers, something almost like surprise showing in his eyes. His hands come up to take it, fingers gingerly brushing over the petals, handling it like it’s made of fragile glass instead of something you’d cobbled together on a whim.

It’s held close to his chest, eyes meeting yours, and you nearly blink in surprise at how unguarded he looks at this moment. So different from his usual frowns and gruff tones as he sternly corrected an error in your paper.

“Thank you,” he says after a moment’s pause.

You grin, the kind that stretches from cheek to cheek and makes your eyes crinkle, a hint of teeth peaking out. “I’m glad you like it!”

Later that day, multiple sources will claim that they saw the General Mahamatra dragging an unconscious criminal through the halls of the Akademiya, but what had them so baffled was the flower crown that stayed atop his head even as he interrogated said criminal.

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coolkat122 · 1 year

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Hi, I love your writing! I’ve recently gotten into the whole terminator fan phase so your account has basically been a haven 4 me😭

If it’s okay, can you write a story about t800 being sent to kill a human reader, but backfiring as he slowly falls in love w/ them instead? (In whatever way a robot can fall in love😅) I understand if its hard though, you can just ignore this if it is. Thank you!

Thank you so much! I'm really glad you like reading my stuff and thank you for requesting! I hope you like this!😊💛

System Error.

T-800 x reader

Warnings: mention of death

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:SYSTEM ERROR - RECALIBRATION ADVISED:

The message flashes across his HUD again, white writing bright against the crimson field of vision he has. The T-800 ignores it, dismissing the warning message as he stares at his quarry, their eyes fixed on his in fear, face twisted into a panic he finds he can't stand to see - it gives him no positive input to see his victim like this.

Trying to ignore the conflicting signals flashing through his CPU, the terminator tightens his grip on the neck of the person writhing in his grip. Their body is pinned to a wall, bruised and bloodied from the touch fighting from before, hands weakly grasping at his steadfast wrist, hoping to bat him away. Staring them down, he knows their attempts are futile, but he doesn't make any effort to stop them. Somewhere inside him, his programming is already preparing his muscles to tighten enough to perform the necessary kill...but there's something stopping him, like a failsafe.

:SYSTEM ERROR - RECALIBRATION ADVISED:

The warning returns.

He should acknowledge it, recalibrate the systems that are malfunctioning so he can perform his objective as he should be. But still...his visual processors have locked onto his victim's and he can easily discern the panic, fear, hopelessness and sorrow that pervades their expression. Something glitches on his HUD, the objective starting to flicker a little.

Their wheezing breaths are deafening in his enhanced audio processing units, hidden behind the human ears Skynet bestowed on him. Under his fingers, his tactile sensors also pick up the frantic rasp of their terrified inhalations, able to detect the racing pulse beneath sensitive fingertips.

:SYSTEM ERROR - RECALIBRATION ADVISED:

Somewhere inside him, he can feel his objective changing, warping as if distorted by the sudden influx of conflicting data. All positive input from being close to completing his mission is no longer there, replaced only by the unsatisfactory lack of fulfillment he should be processing. The T-800 knows his face isn't showing anything, but internally, his system is swiftly deteriorating into what can only be described as panic.

For the first time, he doesn't know what to do.

His captive struggles against his stiff grasp and he inexplicably loosens his grip slightly, allowing them to breathe more easily. The gasping breaths they pull in register in his CPU, and somehow a different warning flickers to life:

:DIVERGENCE FROM OBJECTIVE DETECTED - RETURN TO OBJECTIVE:

But his objective has changed now.

He blinks, processing the new information slowly.

Objective change? How? It should not be possible.

His CPU knows he would now be considered obsolete, as broken and useless, a failed unit that needs terminating. Skynet would not hesitate to destroy him, but Skynet isn't here now.

He's free to do what he wants.

His system starts to glitch out again, trying to process the fact that there aren't any constraints on him due to his superior not actually existing in this timeline yet.

His objective flashes on his HUD and he knows what he has to do.

Carefully, the cyborg loosens his grip again, lowering his victim to the ground so their feet touch the floor. Staring at them, he releases their neck, dropping his hand to his side, waiting for their reaction. Unsurprisingly, they look at him in confusion, until they turn and race away from him.

Slowly, he turns to look after them and follows.

:OBJECTIVE CONFIRMED - BEFRIEND (Y/N) (Y/L/N):

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coolkat122 · 1 year

Photo

Robert Patrick as the T-1000 in Wayne’s World (1992) and Last Action Hero (1993)

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coolkat122 · 1 year

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𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 ( Yandere!T-1000/Austin x Reader )

Summary: If the T-1000 were to settled his sights on intriguing human, his mission had immediately changed and focused on pursuing you.

Author’s Note: hiiii ♡ this has been requested by @mimeticpolyalloy1000! and I’m sorry for the long wait, but I hope you enjoy reading this and have a wonderful day! And I deeply apologize for any grammar mistakes if anyone notices.

Warnings: mature themes, stalking, jealousy, possessive behaviour, typical yandere tendencies, murder, kidnapping.

Terminator Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The T-1000 had been watching your every move since the day you've both met. Even though the interaction was brief. He stills remember the soft feeling on your hand after giving the photo of John Connor back to him. It looks delicate to him, as if someone could easily hurt you without a thought of remorse.

He'd never hurt you. The advanced prototype would easily protect and take care of you with such fierce from the entire world. Even from Skynet itself.

"Oh, yeah, I used to see that kid around my neighbourhood often," You answered sheepishly. "but the last like I saw him was almost twenty minutes ago, I overheard from a pair of kids that he was going to the galleria with his friend." And that pretty much sealed your fate.

Mission changed from locating the future resistance leader and terminating him to pursuing a preferable target and making you his. You just have became the T-1000's new purpose.

He learnt so much about you. Apparently both your parents owned a diner, your two older siblings live out of the state, but they occasionally visit you, and you've been trying to apply to a university that you really wanted to go. Let's not forget your pathetic excuse of of ex-boyfriend, who he easily took out with great pleasure, and made it look like he left town for good.

After weeks of following and watching you. He decided to initiate the first move on you by simply introducing himself as Austin and charmingly asked you out on a date with a lovely bouquet of flowers he thought you'd loved. A night at the movie theatre to watch Se7en with you curled up in his arms, it sparked something within him. He liked this feeling and wouldn't mind doing this often.

It continued on for weeks that slowly turned into months, then the both of you decided your relationship is now official. However two parties had different views about him, one viewed him as the perfect boyfriend who should just put the ring on your finger already, and the other party doesn't exactly... like him.

Your parents was unfortunately in that group and introducing him to them was absolutely bad idea. They made plentiful nasty remarks about him and made it clear he wasn't welcome into their family.

it got worse when he decided to make that feeling noticeably mutual towards them and rubbed in the fact he'd do anything for their youngest despite your growing uneasiness.

Anyways, sex, wasn't much of a issue for him after spending a lot of time learning about it. There was only little data about it before he was sent back in time. So shifting into other people and eavesdropping onto their conversations about such engrossing topics wasn't that hard.

Austin likes hearing your pretty moans for himself whenever he quickens his rough thrusts and big hands gripping onto your hips tightly. It only gets better when you two do it on top the hood of his vehicle, he'd easily yank down your pants and take you right there.

"I love you, (Y/N)." He likes to say after you both finish your session. The flushed look on your face while you fixed your clothes was adorable. "I love you too, Austin." You mustered up to say it back in return for him to kiss you passionately right there and then.

Everything was blissful for the both of you since then. Then your parents thought it was a good idea to try setting you up with another gentlemen to their preference,

The killer instinct inside immediately became activated as there no more Austin, the loving boyfriend, but the T-1000, who decided to pay a nice visit to both of your parents and the new guy before ruthlessly terminating them one by one.

Oh course he knew there was gonna be grieving involved, after he makes your parents death look like a freak accident, but he'd help you get through the grief and move on to your new life together.

The machine thought everything was going smoothly... until he was caught in mid-act of slicing your father’s head off. That excited smile of your face was replaced with a petrified look.

“Y-you murdered them! How could you this!?” You sobbed uncontrollably, and realized your ex was most likely murdered too, as he shushes you and gently caressed the tears away from your face. Oh, how much he hated to know this was bound to happen, but it was simply inevitable and you would’ve found out anyways.

“I did this for you… for the both of us,” He leans his forehead against yours. “I never wanted you find out like this… but hopefully you’ll forgive me soon after I bring you to our new home.” Yes, a seclusive, yet nice, farmhouse with four bedrooms and two bathrooms he somehow purchased before you two even properly met.

“No! Fuck you!” You spat at him and attempted to shove him off yourself. Unfortunately it was futile, he- or whatever it actually is was stronger than you. And there was no point of running either.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.” Austin says clearly unbothered before swiftly plunging a needle into your bare neck. It took nearly a couple minutes to hold your struggling form, but you’ve eventually dropped in his arms as he delicately kisses the top of your head.

You'll come around and accept all of this eventually. He got all the time in the world to wait for you. Because that's' how much the advanced prototype loves you so unconditionally.

"Don't worry, (Y/N)..." He shifting his hold on you to bridal style and walked out of the (Y/L/N) household. "I'll make your new life with me more fulfilling than your old one." And that is a promise he's willing to keep.

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coolkat122 · 1 year

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Yandere T-1000 Headcanons

The T-1000 displays subtle but present sadism. He enjoys seeing the fear in your eyes when he backs you into a corner or catches you attempting to escape.

Due to his model’s ability to make decisions contrary to skynet the 1000 had abandoned his previous objectives after meeting you. However your first meeting went he decided then and there that he’s much more interested in going after you than John Connor.

The T-1000 isn’t afraid to tell you in explicit detail what he’ll do to your loved ones if you continue to fight against him. Do what you're told and you won't see the bloody remains of someone dear to you on your living room floor.

Enjoys messing with your head. From mimicking the voices of those close to you and highly disturbing stuff until you can’t stand to even listen to the real thing.

He will even take on the body of someone you find attractive just to ruin your image of them, he only wants his face to be the one you find unwelcomed comfort in.t

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coolkat122 · 1 year

Note

May I request a fic where Ignis secretly does pole dancing to keep fit and one day the reader walks in on him "training" and he decides to give them a show? ;) Thanks!

Mannnn this is a very sexy idea but I fuckin’ hate doing lapdance and poledance and body worship stuff because it takes SO damn long to like.. plan out and transcribe the moves and I suck at it anyway lol. But I gave you my best! T3T I think if I didn’t do pole I wouldn’t have any idea at all how to approach this. The song I had in mind for Ignis was Chris Isaac’s Wicked Game, I feel like he would be into old shit. Couldn’t quite see it for RnB with him. Anyway… hope you enjoy 8′D

—–

You tiptoed into the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, clutching your keys to prevent them from jingling and giving you away. You were home hours earlier than usual after work had unexpectedly given you the rest of the day off; you knew Ignis was home today, so you were hoping to surprise him. As you slip your shoes off and hang your keys on the hook, you hear the muffled sound of music coming from your gym and pole room. You bite your lip as you stifle a giggle. Is he having some alone time? Images of Ignis with his head tipped back, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, and his dextrous hands working his rock-hard cock creep unbidden into your mind. Mmmm… now there’s a thought. You toss your jacket onto the couch and sneak up to the door of your workout room, cracking the door open slightly and peeking in. What you see there drops your jaw open: Ignis, suspended in mid-air in the Iron X position, holding himself up on your pole like some kind of human flag. He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of skintight black spandex shorts that expose the lean muscle of his thighs.

You stare at your boyfriend, trying to figure out what exactly what’s going on in front of you. Is he… using MY pole… to do moves I can’t do yet?! I can’t figure out if I’m jealous or totally turned on… maybe both. As you’re trying to sort out your feelings, Ignis’s eyes fall upon you, and to his credit despite his apparent shock he doesn’t falter for even a moment. He eases himself out of his hold and regards you in silence, one hand still on the pole. “So…” you take a step forward, pushing the door open the rest of the way. “Were you planning on telling me you’ve been using my pole when I’m not around?”

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coolkat122 · 1 year

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and what of your love?

Aemond Targaryen x f!Reader (nsfw / 18+)

part two of the prūmia va perzys (heart on fire) series

part one: 'don't you love me?' , part three: the flames that divide

themes: angst (obvi), smut, mention of violence/death, language, dragonrider!reader (her house is not stated)

word count: 4.6k ▪︎ masterlist

Aemond Targaryen is to be married, but his heart is not in it. In fact, he feels as if he hasn't had a heart ever since you left.

The message sits on your desk, the words all too vivid and clear, as if mocking you.

"You are cordially requested to bear witness to the union of Prince Aemond Targaryen and his future consort, Lady Alys Rivers..."

You had rushed through the words, in utter disbelief, your heart breaking all the while. Towards the end, it also stated, “His Royal Highness, King Aegon II, wishes to extend a truce, only to the Lady y/n, for the entire duration of the royal festivities, at the behest of Prince Aemond."

Oh please.

It has been over a year since you last saw him in your field, and ever since that night, you've tried your hardest to erase him from your heart. When he played a hand in the death of Lucerys, you were sure that would be the nail in the coffin of whatever love you may have had for him. Sweet, brave Luke who grew to become a brother to you. He was too young. The pain was crippling, the rage it unravelled was immeasurable.

You tell yourself, every day, every hour, that Aemond is lost. The man you once loved, the Prince who relentlessly pursued you, the lover who promised you the world - was no more.

But even you can't fool yourself.

Every time word reaches you of his latest crime, you don't feel hate. You want to only be angry, you should be. But you just can't.

He will always be your Aemond. You may condemn his actions, but you could never cut yourself free of him. He will always have a part of you, which is why you haven't taken any other lover.

But, apparently, he has.

The Lady Alys Rivers was rumoured to be beautiful, and enchanting. The perfect match for the equally alluring young prince.

Oh, seven hells. This must be a joke. Surely, he doesn't think I would actually deign to attend this union.

When you gave word to Daemon and Rhaenyra, they were sure that Aemond is merely toying with you. They knew all too well about your past affair, and seemed assured that this invitation was just a way for Aemond to get under your skin. To get you to lower your defenses.

There was no way you would cross over into enemy territory, given the heightened scale of the ongoing war.

Besides, why the fuck would you want to?

If he truly has forgotten me, if he has truly fallen for another, then I must move on. He no longer is my Aemond. He is hers.

Resolute, you take the parchment, the confirmation of what you have lost, and throw it into the hearth.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The revelry is in full swing, and the lords and ladies of the court are jovially partaking in the week-long festivities, customary before a grand wedding of a prince of the Seven Kingdoms. Albeit now there is an atmosphere of gloom. A sense of unease due to the war is felt by most, and tonight, ale and dancing and fucking are the thoughtless remedies.

The groom, Prince Aemond, sits stoically at the High Table. His inebriated King brother sits to his left, and his bride, Lady Alys, to his right.

She keeps one hand on him, as she does every time, as if she fears that he might run away.

He has half a mind to do just that, plotting as he sips his wine. You had not showed up. You had not even given any notice of having received the invitation.

Does she know I am to be married? Does she not care?

Aemond downs his cup of wine in one long swig, to which his brother cheers, and pats him on the back.

His soon-to-be wife, glances at him chastisingly, and says, "Slowly, my love, the feast has only just begun."

My love. Aemond whips his head to her in a flash, "I told you not to call me that. Call me whatever you wish, just not that."

Lady Alys flinches at his tone, "Careful with how you address me, Aemond. I am your wife."

Aemond takes another swig after his cup has been filled, "Not yet."

"It makes no difference. I will be, soon," his consort smiles, clearly satisfied with herself, "Dance with me, husband?"

"Hmm," he tries to remain polite, although it's taking much resolve, "you go ahead. I'll remain here for now."

She plants a heavy kiss on his cheek, giggling, and joins the dance, getting lost in the crowd.

Aemond muses about his consort, how provocative and sly she is. The reason why he chose her, after the incessant nagging from his mother Alicent that he should be married, is because she's just about the least likely prospect.

Alicent immediately wanted to marry him off to some other highborn lady, someone more proper. Not the bastard daughter of House Strong, but he disagreed. He had no personal desire to be married, anyway, and is merely performing his duty. Marrying for love was clearly out of the cards, since you...

You. Aemond takes another gulp of wine.

He chose Alys on a whim, but also because she was the most amusing out of his options. She is beautiful, brazen with her words, and didn't care much for pomp and nobility. And, well, she was the one who is the most similar to you. Although, she can never hold a candle to your hold on Aemond's heart.

Aemond didn't love her, no, but he is able to tolerate her at least. He once thought that, perhaps, if you had never been in the picture, maybe Alys might have been able to steal his heart instead.

But you are. And you had.

He wonders if you still feel longing, if you also possess that incessant emptiness in your chest. If you still... love...

Fuck. I need her. He takes another drink.

"Brother," Aegon claps him on the shoulder loudly, jeering, "I've never seen you swig ale that quickly. Don't worry about losing your bachelorhood. You're the fucking Prince! You can have any bedmate you want, and your wife can't say a single thing."

There is it again. Wife. Aemond begins to think it vile. A pang of pity also befalls him for his dear sister Helaena, that she should be saddled with an imbecile of a spouse such as Aegon.

Fortunately, in a twisted way, it may even be beneficial for Helaena that her husband sleeps around, so that she may constantly not be on the receiving end of his nightly drunken stupors.

He wonders, dread and jealousy enveloping him, if you had taken anyone to wed. If he is anything like Aegon is as a husband, then war be damned. He would take Vhagar, reach wherever you and that mongrel may be, and end him.

In truth, even if your chosen consort would be the kindest lord in all of the Seven Kingdoms, Aemond would still crush him. He would burn him to the ground.

Doesn’t she care the same? Why isn’t she here now, putting a halt to this farce of a marriage?

Perhaps, she doesn’t trust me. Of course, why would she? Given what I’ve done…

“I know why your face is so sour,” his drunken brother addresses him again, “It’s because of Lady y/n’s absence, is it not? Well, she may still be present at the actual wedding ceremony.”

“You reek of ale, brother. Drinking like a fucking Braavosi sea horse, as always.” Aemond snaps back, getting tense at the subject of you being brought up.

“Why must you be so into that bitch, Aemond?,” Aegon continues his tirade, “You have a lusty wife now, and you can have a thousand whores besides.”

In an instant, Aemond slams his fist on the table and gets off his seat, drawing everyone’s attention to him. Aegon, the King, shirks away from his brother, knowing it was unwise to get on his nerve. Despite jesting with him so often, he may have forgotten that he shouldn’t have mentioned you in that way.

The Kingsguard draw close, prepared to defend their king. Ser Criston Cole rushes over to Aemond, “Stand down, my prince. Not here.”

Aemond glares at his brother, and if looks could kill…

Until he mumbles that sinister, “Hmm.” He composes himself, and raises a hand up to the guards, and to the crowd, “Carry on.”

The feast reluctantly restarts at first, but moments after, the whole exchange was forgotten.

But Aemond can no longer just sit there. If you weren’t going to come to the feast, or to the wedding, then there may be another way to get you to him.

He stands, ignoring the questioning looks coming his way, and he stalks out of the great hall.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

It has been a long evening, mostly spent in the Black Council, analysing the current trajectory of the war. Everyone was in agreement that the Greens have not made any significant measures due to the ongoing wedding festivities of one Prince Aemond.

Half of the council wanted to strike then, while they were occupied with all that pompous nonsense, while the other half favoured a temporary truce, at least until the nuptials have been finalized, for the sake of upholding and respecting Westerosi tradition.

Daemon, being Daemon, had only this to say, “Oh, who cares if my one-eyed nephew will be wed? All our eggs will be there, drowned in booze, in one basket. We should ride and just burn everything down.”

But that was the problem. Everyone would indeed be there. Even the lords and ladies, the maesters, the children, who were simply forced to side with the Greens, out of fear for their lives. Rhaenyra didn’t want any more unnecessary bloodshed, to which you agree.

You return to your chambers, exhausted, mostly due to the sore subject of Aemond’s wedding having been mentioned often. You were grateful to Rhaenyra, who was quick to change the matter of discussion, when she noticed you were growing uncomfortable.

Walking over to your table, you notice a plain black box, one that was not there when you left. You trace your fingers over it, feeling the smooth wooden exterior, and carefully lift the lid.

Your heart stops.

Gillyflower.

A cluster of fresh gillyflower lay inside, in a bright burst of red and violet. The flower that grew so wildly in that field. Yours and Aemond’s.

This used to be your tradition. If either of you wished to meet the other there, all you had to do was surreptitiously send some gillyflower. Like your own shared secret message.

Normally, there would be have been a bit of parchment, with sweet words imprinted.

My love.

My flower.

Come to me.

Each day without you is one I cannot bear.

Now, there was none. But you are sure, this can only be from Aemond.

Should I…? What if it’s a trap?

You mind races, heart beating wildly. You want nothing more than to take the risk, but what of your allegiance? Would you be betraying them? You should be concerned for your safety, but you also knew, he would never hurt you.

You need answers. You need revenge. You need Ae…

Oh, seven hells. Grabbing your sword, and putting on your cloak, you make your way out the door.

“Going somewhere?”, Daemon stands, leaning against the wall, as if expecting you to come out at any moment.

“Daemon,” you say, surprised. The cloak and the sheathed sword surely gave you away.

“It’s my nephew, isn’t it?”

“What-“

“I intercepted the messenger who brought over that box. I wondered about the contents, but then, who else could it be from?”

“Hmm,” you whisper, knowing it futile to hide anything from Daemon, “he wishes to meet me. I know not what for.”

“And you’re going.” He replies, as if stating a fact.

You nod, thinking of the right thing to say next. About how you will never betray Rhaenyra, how you only need to see him even if you’re not sure why, how you will be able to fend for yourself.

But your worries are quelled when Daemon says, “You better hurry then.”

“Daemon,” you say, not expecting him to just let this slide so easily.

“Listen, y/n, I trust you. I trust that you know what you’re doing,” he moves closer to you, “As for my nephew, he may be a bloody monster, and I may never forgive him, but I’m sure he thinks himself lucky to have someone like you to love him truly.”

You stare at him in admiration. There was a reason why Daemon drew so many people to him. He was cunning and highly dangerous, yes. But he was also intelligent and fair.

“I myself think the same way in that I have Rhaenyra to love me, as wretched as I am,” he smiles, and nudges your shoulder, “Go.”

You start to walk away, but you turn back once more, “Thank you, Daemon.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The field is more or less the same, although the growth of gillyflower has become more relentless, pockets of red and violet and white spread all throughout.

You dismount from your dragon, close to Vhagar, and the great and terrifying beast only grunts in recognition. You were one of the only two people whom she was comfortable around, after your many trysts spent riding with Aemond.

“Hello again, you beauty,” you call out to her, “Where is your master, hmm?”

The field itself was empty, but there was a new fixture in the distance, close to the hills. A small, stone cabin, with faint candlelight burning inside.

Steeling yourself, you make your way over, knowing that nothing can truly prepare you for what’s to come.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“My love.”

You hear him the moment you walk inside, and you have to stop yourself from running straight into his arms. You raise your head, and finally meet his gaze.

Aemond looks rougher, more rugged. As if the war has taken its toll. All the fighting must have strained him, as his figure is still lean and lithe but more muscular.

“Aemond,” you finally say, taking a quick glance around the room. It’s a humble space, with a large bed pushed up against the wall, candles haphazardly placed around the room. You see a bunch of gillyflower on a round table, weapons hung neatly above the fireplace, as well as…

Aemond follows your eyeline, and takes the framed image from the wall.

“Do you wish to see it?” he says, but he’s already handing it to you.

Taking it in your hands, you study the image containing a likeness of you. Every detail of your face, to your neck, down to your shoulders, portrayed by an artist’s skilled hand.

You try to comprehend what the fuck exactly it is you’re looking at, and you also can’t seem to grasp how cordial Aemond is acting about everything.

As if he hadn’t played a hand in the demise of some people you truly cared for.

You slowly hand the painting back to him, the words stuck in your throat.

He hangs it back up, “Beautiful, isn’t it, my love? I had it made not too long ago. As for this place, well, I needed somewhere where I can still have you. One way or another.”

“What are you talking about?” you manage to say.

“I haven’t been able to see you in far too long, my love. Too. Long.”

“There’s a clear reason for that, Aemond,” you say firmly, growing uneasy at the unhinged look in his eye, unblinking, devouring the sight of you.

He reaches for your hands, and you instinctively flinch backwards.

“Don’t, Aemond.”

“Why not, hmm?” he circles you, pacing ever so slowly, stopping just behind you, “You came here on your own volition, pet. You wanted to come, to see me.”

“I came to talk.”

“Hmm,” he makes the low noise that he always does, and it makes you want to just capture that sound from his lips with your own. He lowers the hood of your cloak, and you just stand there, letting the situation unfold.

Aemond’s fingers brush purposefully against the back of your neck as he takes your cloak off, and leaves in it a pile by your feet.

He steps closer, and you feel his breath against your neck. Using one hand, he pulls you to his chest. You don’t want to turn around and face him, afraid you might lose control, but you also can’t find it in you to move away.

“You built this place,” you state, your voice flat.

“This is our secret place, y/n,” he whispers close to your ear, “Every corner is a tribute to you. There is your picture, your favourite flowers, the sheets are of your favourite colour, the volumes on the mantel are the stories you like the most. Through this, I have some way of being with you.”

“Aemond,” you force yourself to pull away from him, “my love.”

“You finally said it,” he smiles.

“What?” you lean against a wall.

“My love,” he says, and moves to sit on a chair opposite you, “you’ve called me by name since you arrived, until then. Even though I don’t mind the way my name rolls off of your sweet tongue.”

“Stop,” you remind yourself that you came here for answers, “why did you call me here? Aren’t you about to wed?”

“Only for the sake of my duty, to further the Targaryen line.”

“Really? Why Alys Rivers then? Why not some highborn, legitimate lady?” your voice grows cold, and Aemond smirks at your jealousy.

“Because I simply don’t care. It pisses mother off, and you as well, it seems.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re free to wed whomever you wish, Aemond.”

“No,” he says, “I am not. Otherwise, I would have wed you a long time ago.”

“Well, your actions have forever buried that possibility,” you say too quickly, ire reflected in your words.

He flinches at your words, his lips pursing, “I only do what I have to do.”

“You didn’t have to kill Luke!” you lunge forward, your hand flying to the hilt of your sword by your waist.

Aemond notices your movement, but does nothing, “Hmm, Luke was merely a casualty in this war.”

“He was your family, Aemond. He was just a child. Why?”

He says nothing, and looks at you up and down, assessing your growing distress.

“Do you even regret it?” you ask.

A long pause passes, until he says, “I only regret that it has caused you pain.”

“Wrong answer, Aemond.” You unsheathe your sword, holding it out straight it front of you, “Fight me.”

This is the only right thing you can think of doing. The other things that have crossed your mind were completely unsavoury, unthinkable acts to do with the murderer who caused the death of your friend. You shouldn’t reach for him, you shouldn’t kiss him, you shouldn’t admire him, you shouldn’t run your fingers down his scar with reverence. Never again.

So, perhaps, you should bring him to justice.

“My love,” his tone is amused, and you grow even more frustrated.

“Get your sword.”

He stands, a sly curve on his prominent bowed lips.

My brave girl, he thinks.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re angry.”

For fuck’s sake, Aemond. No. “Your sword, Aemond.”

He backs away slowly to where his sword hangs above the fireplace, takes it, and diligently twirls it in one hand.

Your nerve starts to fail. Aemond was surely a better swordsman; he has been furiously training all his life. But, well, so have you.

Long ago, you and him even trained together. You may stand a chance.

“Your move, pet,” he says, tauntingly.

You cross the distance between the two of you, and deal the first parry, your blades connecting loudly in the air. An electric pause occurs, and Aemond smirks at you.

You dodge to the side, and lunge at him again. He easily deflects the blow.

You circle each other, and it’s unclear as to who is the predator and who is the prey.

Aemond deals a wide overhead arch, and you’re quick to block it halfway. This brings his face dangerously close to yours, and he whispers, nearly against your lips, “Surrender, my love.”

“Never,” you lunge backwards again, and Aemond twirls his sword smoothly, once, twice, and another final time.

Then, he spins in a circle, his sword a mere blur in the air, before delivering his final stroke, pushing you against the wall, the edge of his blade an inch away from your neck.

But, you were able to anticipate this, at the last second, as your sword slipped from your grasp.

“I win, pet. You’re mine.”

“Think again.” you whisper, and when he looks down, he finally notices the sharp edge of your knife poking at his ribs.

He looks at you in awe, “Well, I suppose we both have each other then, my love.”

He lunges forward, and claims your lips in a searing kiss. Wild, and passionate, as if to make up for lost time. Your respective blades remain where they are, and he muses, “Hmm, you know, we could just kill each other here. A glorious lovers’ death.”

“Aemond,” you say, out of breath from the kiss, and let your knife clatter to the floor.

He does the same with his sword, and pushes you against the wall once more, using his whole body to keep you in place.

“Tell me what you came for, my love. The truth.”

“I…” you say, deciding to let everything go, “I came for you.”

That is all he needed. And, for you, it feels freeing to allow yourself to just want Aemond. To love him. Despite what’s he has done, and how wrong this may be.

Your Aemond.

You run your fingers down the side of his face, and he shuts his eye in ecstasy. Your fingers stop at his eyepatch, asking permission, and he nods once, immediately.

His sapphire eye never fails to take your breath away. If anything, it only made him look otherworldly. Ethereal.

“Beautiful,” you whisper, and his heart swells.

He takes your face in his hand, admiration raw in his expression. Then he lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your lips battle each other, as he strides over to the bed. He gently lowers you, and your arms naturally reach for his neck, bringing him down with you.

He chuckles deeply, flattered by your eagerness, “Patience, my love.”

“I have been patient,” you respond, as he nips at your neck, “but now I just want to take.”

“Hmm,” he muses, “I’ve missed your fire.”

“I’ve missed my dragon.”

“And,” he says, softly, pausing to kiss you, “a dragon…” another kiss, “is nothing…”, and another, “without its fire.”

“Oh, Aemond.”

He presses his forehead to yours, “I am lost without you.”

He makes swift work of untying your dress, only pausing to leave kisses down your body, until you’re left in a sheer white shift. You sit up, helping him remove his tunic, admiring every ripple of muscle, every new scar, every stretch of his glowing skin. His hair had come loose, the signature Targaryen silver like an aura surrounding him.

When he’s undressed, he takes the final piece of clothing off of you, the white shift that leaves nothing to the imagination, and throws that to the floor with the rest.

You begin a sort of dance, one that you both know so well, repeated over many sleepless nights filled with passion.

He always starts with you, lowering himself down to your heat. You almost come undone every time you see him, lips close to your entrance, before he makes the first taste. His eye gleams up at you, and then he begins.

Tongue swirling at your entrance, while his thumb masterfully plays with your folds. He keeps at it for a long moment, before he takes a second to look you right in the eye while he brings his fingers to his lips.

“Mmm,” he breathes, then he lowers his lips to your wet cunt once more.

“Aemond,” your fist bunch up at the sheets, your back arches, your toes curl.

He makes you tremble, your breath hitching at intervals.

He feels you getting close, so he licks one last strip upward, “Not yet, my love.”

“Yes, my prince.”

“Hmm, say that again,” he gets up, positioning his knees on either side of your thighs.

“My Prince Aemond,” you say, “Mine.”

“Yours,” he purrs.

He takes your lips again, an action you will never grow tired of, his fingers gripping your hair. He kisses down your cheek, your jaw, then your neck. He sucks at the flesh, marking his territory, making you press your pelvis onto his, feeling the length of his hardened shaft.

“Hmm,” he shivers, “fuck.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to position himself, and he does.

His pushes his tip to your cunt. Torturously, but only just.

“Oh, for gods’ sake,” you moan, “come inside me, Aemond.”

He laughs, “As you wish, my love.”

He stretches you wide, pushing inch by inch, and you have to grow accustomed to his size once more.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan.

“Does it hurt badly, my love?” he is quick to ask, watching your face intently.

“It’s okay,” you grip the back of his neck, “keep going.”

With one deep grunt, he fills you completely, thrusting deep.

He moans, music to your ears, and whispers your name. He rolls his hips backward, then forward again, the motion more rough this time, moving your entire body upward.

“Aemond,” you whisper, “my Aemond.”

“My love,” he looks at you in wonder, sprawled beneath him, “it’s only been you. It will only ever be you.”

You pull his face down to yours, kissing him passionately. His hips resume movement. Slow, deep thrusts at first.

Then he turns wild. He ruts into you, quicker, more frantic, the smacking sounds of flesh and sweat, and unhinged animalistic moans echoing throughout the room.

He does a surprising move, his fingers first drifting around your neck, then applying pressure, and he looks like a vengeful, hot-blooded god above you. His face hovers just inches above yours, and his grip on your neck unexpectedly excites you, the danger of Aemond only serving to make things more erotic, and reckless. Your dark prince.

You dig your nails into his wrist, returning the pressure.

“You should have married me,” he breathes, “why didn’t you run away with me?”

“Aemond,” everything throbs, the fire in your abdomen reaching its climax, from his frenzied thrusts, to his hand on your neck, to his crazed expression.

“You’re mine. They can’t have you. No one else can.” His words are punctuated with hard thrust, after hard thrust.

Almost simultaneously, gloriously, you both come apart. Aemond spasms inside you, filling you with his seed. Your hips continue to jerk against him, as you writhe uncontrollably, riding down your high.

He places one more soft kiss upon your lips, then collapses beside you.

You close your eyes in satisfaction, letting the feeling wash over you.

You feel his fingertips on your neck, and you open your eyes, finding him lying on his side, studying you.

“Was that okay?" he asks, referring to his grip on your neck.

“Mhmm,” you reassure him, turning to your side as well.

He hums in return, before smirking, “I knew you couldn’t resist.”

You laugh at his forwardness, and he looks at you lovingly.

He leans forward to kiss you, “My heart has returned.”

You feel a pang of guilt at how you left him, all that time ago, even if it may have been the right thing to do. It will never be simple between you and Aemond.

“I missed you,” you say wholeheartedly.

“And what of your love?” he says, taking your hand.

“My Aemond,” you press your forehead to his, “It will never be gone.”

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I've decided to save most of the sadness & regret for the next part, and yes, there will be a part 3. Our boy Aemond is still to be married after all. And he is still a "bloody monster" with majestic hair.

I hope I've tagged all those who asked - I'll keep yous tagged for any upcoming Aemond fic as well.

Taglist open - just comment.

PS. Alys Rivers is apparently Aemond's lover in the books, and I fear the feral jealous monster I will become if they decide to show that old hag in the upcoming seasons of HOTD. Sorry, not sorry.

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coolkat122 · 1 year

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Aemond Targaryen with a shy s/o:

Warnings: allusions to smut, a curse word

When Aemond first meets a shy reader, he’s most likely to seem cold and aloof towards the person, as if ignoring her, although he’s quite interested

While in arranged marriage you might interact as little as possible due to your shyness and he actually tries not to disturb you that often(it’s not as if he wanted this marriage anyway), only in cases when you must show up together

But as attraction comes up, he’d be quite eager to see you more often, take meals with you, ask about your plans or accidentally meet in the garden and take a walk

He tried not let it show that he’s more than willing to be around you but his mother certainly notices

She’d bring it up once only for him to say that “as of political advantage it’s important to preserve this marriage” but she sees right through him

Btw, Alicent is not about loving you but sometimes you remind her of herself years ago so she’s a lot kinder to you than others

And she’s glad her son at least stopped seeing that Alys b¡tch

I have a feeling the kingslayer is actually drawn to shy people with gentle souls cuz all the people surrounding him are certainly not like that

He values a lot you keeping to yourself but he tries to make little adjustments as time goes by

always keeps his voice soft while talking to you

He notices what kind of books you like or jewellery, dresses that have caught your eye so you start to find those things almost every morning on your nightstand, table or bed

Aemond won’t show how excited he is and how he has pterodactyls not butterflies in his stomach when he sees you wearing one of his gifts

That’s how one evening when you’re reading a book he bought by the fireplace smiling at something your favourite character says he goes

“Didn’t know it was so easy to get a smile out of you”

You’ll be startled to see him standing a few feet away in your chambers but say back, “it’s just this book. You see Achilles’s relationship with Patro-.. Ugh, though it’s not interesting for you so I’ll just keep quiet.”

“No,” he said a bit too hastily, watching you eye him hesitantly. “Tell me what’s so special about this Achi-achi..”

“Achilles,” your smile widening.

He notices you relaxing as he says, “See? Seems I can’t even remember names. You might have to tell me about the book in great detail.”

You may still not believe he’s interested but the man’s just thinking please, say anything, do anything, just let me stay in your presence a bit more

So you do.

this how it takes off, you start to talk more and more, first of books, then of how you’ve spent your day and anything that seems to catch your attention

You don’t know how his hearts aches each time he leaves in the evening only to realise how much he’d like to stay with you, to share warmth with you, to connect bodies and souls in all ways possible

In a few months, there will be a trip to Winterfell where you must share chambers because for the rest of the realm you’re still officially married

He’s quite nervous not knowing whether you feel like doing it.

So, you change into your nightclothes in the bathroom and gingerly lay on bed tugging bedsheets to cover almost up to your face.

He’s sad and even insecure that you might detest him so much but when he sees you shaking heavily and furs not really helping, a light of hope glimmers in his heart

“Are you cold?” sounded more like statement. “I’ll request more furs to be brou-…”

“No need,” you voiced in a tender voice. “Can I-.. can you…?”

For a moment he doesn’t understand that you mean till he picks up on your blushed cheeks and averted eyes

He wraps you in embrace hesitating only for a split second and feeling as you shift to find a comfortable position and rest your head against his chest

He prays you can’t hear his heart hammering louder than Vhagar roaring

After that, he sees you warming up to him, being bolder to strike a conversation or take his hand while attending a ball.

In a while when you spend your first night together, he’d be so gentle and delicate trying not to hurt you

But also pride swells up in his chest as he understands that he’s your first and you trust him enough to be your first

The night will be extremely passionate and full of lovemaking, yet it seems such experience and feelings were new not only to you but Aemond as well

It’d never felt so deep as it was with you

The next morning you’ll wake up to him caressing you cheek and start blushing only to hear…

Laughter

The one-eyed targaryen laughs at your flushed condition because the man is obsessed with your red cheeks, actually the first thing that picked up his interest

Anyway, morning leads to round 2

And 3

From then on, the Prince often catches you off guard giving a loving kiss amidst the corridor or the garden, for which he receives a playful slap from you on the arm but such a bright grin is always left on his face after

Sometimes you don’t even realise how fast his heart’s beating when he looks at you across the room or he catches you watching him at the dinner table

Aemond has such a soft spot for you, for him you’re the most treasured gold the world has to offer so don’t leave him, he’ll be heartbroken.

Until then, he’s ready to bring you every star from the sky, every ray of shine, every drop of the ocean there is in the endless deep waters❤️

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coolkat122 · 1 year

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Hello! you would write to aemond x reader. Where she goes to Storm's End, trading instead of her brother, and instead of asking for Lucerys' eye, Aemond claims her as his wife.

To Have and to Hold

Aemond Targaryen x F!Velaryon (Strong)!Reader

Warnings: violence, NSFW, incest

Word count: 3583

A.N: Reader is the middle sister of Lucerys and Jacaerys. This is a good old enemies-to-lovers story with a happy ending.

The family was gathered around the painted table. Plans were made and changed and remade altogether in mere seconds, the lords loyal to your mother scrambling to do everything all at once to secure her rightful claim to the throne.

“Send us, mother. Dragons are faster than ravens,” Jacaerys insisted when the matter of reaffirming old oaths came up.

On your mother’s command, he was to fly south and Lucerys was to fly north, to Storm’s End. Luke agreed to the task, yet you could tell his hesitance from the way he tried to conceal his fidgeting. The rattled nerves made him seem smaller than he was as he hunched over, nodding to the duty given to him.

So you stepped up, though only after the meeting was adjourned. Lucerys was too proud to allow what you have intended otherwise, but you were too fond of your baby brother to let him fly through the treacherous weather of the North alone.

“Mother. A word, please?”

Rhaenyra intended Lucerys to familiarize himself with diplomatic duties which were sure to come in waves following her own coronation. Your proposal was compelling nevertheless. Storm’s End was a flight too difficult for your younger brother to make alone, and you as his companion might soothe his nerves and might even compel Lord Borros Baratheon to be kinder to the message you were to deliver.

“Very well, then,” Rhaenyra reluctantly agreed to your proposal but only on the condition that you would go in peace: as envoys and not as warriors.

The flight to Storm’s End was uneventful. With jokes and friendly teasing, it almost felt like your regular flights above the Dragonstone on beautiful mornings and starry nights. Except there was strong wind and downpour all at once, and Lucerys became quieter as you approached your destination.

“Come on, Luke. I will race you to the courtyard!”

Your dragon was older, not big enough on her own to be considered mature yet, but bigger in comparison to Arrax, which made Arrax faster in contrast.

So Luke landed first, and you were mere minutes behind him.

“Well done, brother. You beat me. You shall have my slice of the pie this supper.”

But Lucerys didn’t seem excited about what would make him jump up and down if it were any other time. He didn’t even smile. He was facing his sister with a hand gripping the saddle on Arrax and the other clutching the hilt of his sword, but his young face was contorted in concern as he looked through her. If you hadn’t known him better, you’d almost misread it for fear.

“What is it?” You asked, but Luke only remained motionless, looking beyond to the walls of the keep.

It was then that you saw it in the flash of lightning that lit up the sky for a moment. Vhagar. She was big enough to make the outer walls of the keep seem like miniatures. You gulped, though remained stoic on the outside for the sake of your younger brother. You accompanied him to support him, not to plummet him down into the endless pit of fear. Vhagar meant, however, the Prince you’d rather see the least had beaten you to Lord Borros. You only hoped he was given a chamber of his own, and you’d deliver your message and slip out without ever facing him.

“Come on, Luke. Let us haste. Mother’s expecting us back for supper.”

The dark and empty hall was as hostile as its Lord. And in the corner stood Aemond Targaryen with one of Lord Borros’ daughters. She seemed tense. You could tell, because so were you.

“Come on, Luke.” You nudged your brother, and he held the sealed message out for the guards.

As the Maester to Lord Borros slowly dragged his feet to his master’s seat and relayed the message to him in hushed whispers, your eyes were trained on Aemond’s. He stood tall and proud, looking at you and your brother with disdain in his eyes and disgust in the way his lips curled up.

Luke clutched his sword once again, and you squeezed his shoulder. “Let go of it, brother. Remember your oath to mother.”

With Luke unable to marry, Lord Borros without a son to offer you, and most importantly, with sweet promises laced with poison seeping into his ear all the way from King’s Landing, Borros Baratheon broke his oath. On any other day, you’d remain and quarrel, threaten the Baratheon forces to bend the knee to the true Queen and not to the Usurper King, but on that day, you wished nothing more than to escort your brother out to safety.

“We thank you for your consideration, Lord Borros,” you spoke without reverence. A turncloak deserved only the traitor’s death. But you’d return for it another day.

Meanwhile, Aemond’s gaze burned into the back of your head as you put a hand on Luke’s back to signal him it was way past your time for departure.

“Wait, my Lord and Lady Strong!” Aemond’s humiliating tone echoed off the walls.

“Luke—”

Fiery as ever, Luke shrugged your hand off and turned on his heels to face Aemond.

“Mind your tongue! Apologize to my dear sister right now!”

“Hm. How about you apologize to me for trying to steal my brother’s crown, traitor?”

“I will do no such thing!”

“Then you are a coward as well as a traitor and I will have your eye, bastard.”

Aemond ripped the dagger from its sheath and threw it flying towards Y/N and her older brother.

With each lightning that struck, the sapphire eye in place of the one Luke once slashed out glimmered. It seemed as if it had a mind of its own, no doubt just as vile and dangerous as its owner.

“As payment for mine.”

“No,” Lucerys stood his ground.

Aemond all but jumped forward then, spurred on by the courage of a boy he saw inferior to him in all regards. Lucerys to stand against him, tall and proud, was a massive hit to his pride.

As Aemond picked up his dagger and moved for Lucerys, you stepped in between your brother and uncle.

“NO! No!”

Your intervention caught Aemond by surprise. He was intrigued, amused, even. What a fine, fiery woman his nephew has turned out to be. Shame she was a bastard all the same.

“Please— Aemond. My Prince. Please—”

“What? Do you plead to pitch in?” he stared into Y/N’s eyes then. He was unyielding, unflinching.

“Luke, go. I command you. As your sister, I command you to leave!” You pleaded with Lucerys, but he stood unmoving behind you.

“Lucerys!”

“No…” Aemond was amused. “No, your eyes are of no value to me. I want his eye!”

Luke would have escaped had it not been for his older sister. He would have turned around and made it to his dragon as you demanded. Yet, only a few acts were more loathsome than leaving kin to the wolves. Besides, Rhaenyra would’ve shredded him to bits and fed him to Arrax for all to see.

So Luke kneeled to take the dagger. Aemond’s request was fair after all.

“Perhaps not my eyes,” You spoke hastily with your hand wrapped around Luke’s wrist in an effort to stop him.

“But demand what you deem worthy of me and you shall have it. I beg of you, Aemond. Let my baby brother return to our mother. He came only as an envoy. He means no harm to you.”

“Hm.” He seemed to consider the offer genuinely that time. “As if you could harm me if you tried. Well, it seems the girl has bigger balls than you, bastard. You’re strong only in name, Lord Strong.”

Then he turned his attention back to you with a cruel smirk that pressed his lips into a thin line.

“You would trade your life, no matter how worthless, for your bastard brother?”

“If it is my life you demand, you shall have it. But allow my brother safe passage first.”

It was Lucerys’ turn to protest then, but you took a step forward, hoping that Aemond would be merciful enough to at least spare your brother the grim sight of the execution of his sister.

“I won’t kill you, dear Nephew. Oh, no. That would be entertainment for what? an hour? No, I will marry you,” His eye widened and he grinned as if a child got a platter of cakes and pies all to himself.

“Go on, then, pup,” He nodded to Lucerys pulling at the sleeves of your damp travelling coat, begging you to stop.

“Go with your worthless life and carry the heavy news to your false Queen—that her daughter is to be defiled by Prince Aemond. Perhaps she will be overjoyed to see what true Targaryen offspring looks like.”

You were trembling then. From standing in a stone hall, dripping head to toe from the downpour you have just escaped from, or from the cruel design Aemond has traded you for your brother’s eye, you didn’t know.

Your brother was looking at you incredulously, clutching Aemond’s dagger with his shaking hand.

“Go—go, Lucerys,” you mumbled between shaky breaths that threatened to explode into a sobbing fit. “You’ve heard Prince Aemond. Relay the news to the Queen.”

“Sister—I won’t leave you—”

“How sad,” Aemond spoke joylessly, mocking Luke with his lips downturned in an exaggerated fashion. “Will you cry, pup?”

“Sister, I shall return. I promise—”

“You will do no such thing, Lucerys,” your back was turned to him, your tears concealed from his vision. “Now go.”

“Oh, and I will have this back,” Aemond reached behind Lucerys, tearing the dagger from his hand and sheating it back to its place on his belt.

Aemond took his leave after Lucerys’, all but dragging you to Vhagar. You grappled to reach for your own dragon but to no avail. Aemond’s vice grip would sooner rip your arm from your shoulder before he let you loose.

“Did you think I would let you fly on your own? What do you take me for, a fool?”

“No. You are no fool. But you are a cruel monster.”

It seemed to please him, and he snorted.

“A monster who is nought but a bully had it not been for his dragon!”

That, however, seemed to have gotten to him. He stopped in his track under the downpour abruptly and struck you across the face. It was your time to grin. For all his quiet mystery, his underbelly was clear as day.

“My Prince forgets who was there on the night he usurped Vhagar from her rightful successors. You were but a scared child who stole what you did not deserve.”

His fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing so tight that your vision soon turned blurry and you gasped desperately, clawing at his on your throat. There was nothing but fury in his eye, wide with surprise that a woman would speak so plainly to him, and red with rage and the rain.

“Speak but another word and I shall send your skull to your whore of a mother!”

He let go and you collapsed to your knees, coughing and gasping for air. Then came waves of hiccups and sobs, not out of fear or misery but out of utter wrath.

“Save your tears. If it is sympathy you hope for, you shall get none from me. You are a foul bastard just like the rest of your brood and you shall be treated as one.”

Deep down, however, the deal he had just struck excited Aemond. His mouth watered at the thought of his reluctant but fiery bride in their marital bed, as they consummated the marriage and repeated the act over and over again until her belly was swollen and ran around the Red Keep children of Aemond’s own.

She was still a filthy bastard in his eye, yet if he had to choose one of his nieces to tolerate, he’d gladly choose Y/N over the others. Back when they all grew up on King’s Landing, he did have a crush on her, after all. Though it was silly, and he ripped the roots of it long ago. At least he thought so.

Something about her dark hair, livelier complexion, and eyes… her eyes. The defiance and pride in them. And she was brave; braver than most, braver than even his drunk, sorry excuse of a brother and father.

Back at King’s Landing, Alicent was rightfully outraged by the turn of events. Of course, you didn’t expect a warm welcome from your mother-in-law, and you didn’t get one.

Most of your days leading up to the wedding were spent in a chamber of your own with your door locked and latched on you and with a Kingsguard standing watch at all times. It was lonely, except for when Aemond came to visit, which he did almost every night.

He sat by the fireplace and you sat on the bed. Though at first not a lot of words were spoken, soon you realized just how much his conversation entertained you, and that you looked forward to his visits.

It was one of those nights that he stopped by with a heavy book under his arm.

“I had the Maester copy this for you,” he spoke dryly, but he had a hint of a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

He set the book down on the table and flipped through the pages.

“If you put your nose to it, you can still smell the ink.”

Aemond didn’t expect you to indulge him the way you did. You walked up to him, and with your cheek to his, joined him in inhaling the scent of ink on parchment pages.

“What is it about? The book?” You asked with genuine interest, flipping through the pages as Aemond pulled away to look at you incredulously. You weren’t resisting him, dismissing him, or threatening him with a slit throat in his sleep as you usually did.

“It’s—it’s on the history of Valyria. This is the first volume of many.”

“Oh, I remember this book.”

“You do?”

“Yes!” You pulled away with a proud smile of your own. For a moment, you looked like two ordinary lovers conversing by the fire, not enemies who supposed to hate each other and about to be united only as torture for one another.

“Remember Aunt Leana’s funeral?”

Of course he did. That was when you mocked Aemond for not being a dragon rider still, and told him the Gods were cruel not to give him the handsome face Aegon was blessed with. How silly were you back then. But how could you know that Aemond would grow up to be the Prince you’d fall for day after day?

“Yes?” he responded warily.

“Well, you were reading this then. I tore a page out, and you were so cross you told on me to my mother,” you giggled, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder before seating yourself by the fireplace.

Aemond smiled as well, approaching his usual seat cautiously as if not to spook a skittish prey. When you nursed your cup of wine without a flinch, he sat by you. Though his face was turned to the fire, he stole quick glances at your face, your neckline revealed by your evening robe, and your delicate, ringed fingers wrapped around the cup.

“Regretfully, you were fluent in High Valyrian back then and I knew very little, and nothing much has changed ever since.”

“Oh,” Aemond caught your eyes, searching for the dark, burning dislike you had for him that he came to expect. Instead your face was relaxed, and your eyes were almost that of a lover’s. Then, you reached for his hand. It must be the wine, Aemond thought. What else?

“You shall have to teach me.”

“I shall arrange the Maester—”

“I asked you, Aemond, not the Maester.”

From then on, Aemond visited you every night without fail. He came earlier and left later into the night. Though he always brought books, parchment and ink, very little High Valyrian was actually studied. His days were eventful and you loved to listen, and he loved the way you reminisced their days of youth.

So, on a night like that, with your hand on his over the table, you spoke the words that almost stopped his heart.

“I wish you would stay the night, Aemond. It gets awfully lonely some nights.”

He blinked a few times, unsure if his ears heard what you spoke, or what he so desperately wished you would.

“It—it would be improper before the wedding.”

“You took me hostage, Aemond. Traditions are obeyed very little in our marriage.”

That night was the first time you called what was slowly blossoming between him and you a marriage. The words you spoke took him by surprise, just as the way you said them—playfully, with no hatred or resentment.

“You offered yourself up. I was content enough having your brother’s eye.” That was Aemond’s attempt at humour in response, a macabre and perhaps a twisted one that would have gotten raise out of any other woman. Yet you only looked at him for a second, then laughed.

“Yet you did not have to lock me up. I would not have run.”

“No, but my brother would have stolen you from me.”

“Oh, surely. Aegon did promise to demonstrate to me… what was it? Real manhood in case you ever failed to do so.”

“He did?” Aemond frowned. Was that what jealousy felt like?

“Mmhm. I told him I was confident you would make a good husband.”

Though the ceremony was mere days away, Aemond was still not used to being called your husband, especially by you, and he barely got used to wearing a band of gold around his ring finger.

“This would be a good time to say that I would make a good wife, as well,” you joked, hoping to pull Aemond out of his moment of silence.

Instead, Aemond stared at you. He was unblinking and impossible to read. Indeed because his face was impossible to read, it came to you as a surprise when he closed the distance between you and himself and locked his lips with yours.

It was gentle, way gentler than you assumed Aemond was capable of. When he pulled back just enough to study your face, you only whispered “Do it again.”

The caution and restraint went out the window then. His tongue danced across yours and you gripped each other desperately, pulling at your clothes and moaning your names.

Aemond ended up not only staying the night as you asked but consummating your marriage even before the ceremony itself.

It was gentle and cautious at first, but only briefly, before baser and more primal urges overtook you both. You woke up in Aemond’s arms with a dull but sweet ache between your legs and marks in the shape of his mouth and fingers all over your body. Likewise, Aemond woke up with raw lines of skin where your nails had dug into his flesh.

You took your bath together, and Aemond postponed his sword practice for a private noon at the library with you. Though it came as a surprise to neither of you that there was more kissing and touching than reading.

Then, things changed rapidly. Your door was no longer locked, though that might very well be because you all but moved into Aemond’s quarters. You became inseparable. You were there with a book or your embroidery when Aemond trained, you flew together, broke fast and had supper together in his bedchamber.

The only time you regretfully parted was when Alicent—who also surprisingly became like a mother to you, and you a daughter to her— insisted that your fitting for the wedding gown must be kept private and away from the prying eye of the groom. It was bad luck, she insisted, if Aemond saw you in your gown before the ceremony.

“And have you asked mother and the Septa if it is good luck or bad if I have you in your gown?” Aemond teased you, making you blush whenever his words came back to you as the tailors worked ceaselessly to finish the dress before the ceremony.

Neither of you could say if it was indeed bad luck or not, but you found out that it was delightful when Aemond lifted your heavy skirt up and snuck between your legs on your wedding night. He had you in it, just as he promised. Though it was a shame that he grew too impatient to undo the ribbons and laces, so he instead tore and ripped the dress apart, leaving it as a cut of tattered, expensive silk on the floor as the night went on.

You saw the sorry state of the dress in the morning. Well, as much of it as you could see from Aemond’s arms around you, keeping you flush on his body.

“Aemond! You shall never see me wear a lovely dress as this once was for you again!”

“My sweet wife, you should not wear anything for me,” Aemond whispered groggily, still in the sweet clutches of slumber, and he pulled you for a kiss that promised you would not be leaving his bedchamber for the day.

Aemond Tag (let me know if you'd like to be added to it):

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