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soullessdianthus · 11 months

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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚

Warnings: yandere themes (manipulation, kidnapping, imprisonment), smut (overstimulation, dubcon/noncon, breeding kink if you want to interpret like so)

Word count: 1.6k

A sound of pouring rain tapping over the window kept you awake. You glanced over the glass and saw the same image as for the days before - dense, forest line cutting the grassy, wild meadow off. The temperature inside and out was warm and it almost felt like summer in the countryside of your homeland. But it was all an illusion.

A high-tech screens had been put inside the window frames to imitate your well known surroundings. He put an effort to make this place look like a decent place. Somewhere you would feel comfortable. But this wasn’t even a real home, it was your prison.

After you interfered a little too much with the canon events in one of the spider-verses, Miguel O’Hara visited your world in person. He demanded an explanations from Peter Parker, a friend from college, about your doings.

Because you two learned lately about the up-coming death of uncle Ben and tried to avoid it by all means. And you almost succeed. Almost.

Miguel, a tall man with a dark look on his face, threatened Peter about the consequences of avoiding such occurrences. Parker appeared to be frightened of the stranger as Miguel’s eyes seemed to glow brightly red from frustration.

Those piercing eyes finally found your form, standing still behind your Spiderman and only then you processed what you just heard.

━ Wh-What? It was OUR idea to save your uncle! ━ You interrupted those two men, gesturing with your hands. But Peter didn’t even bother to look at you, he didn’t have enough courage to do so. He tried to frame you and put all the guilt on you. Which in the end, somehow worked out.

He agreed to that mysterious spidey-guy from another universe that someone had to bear the consequences of messing up with the timeline. And Parker pointed at you. An ultimate betrayal, ripped your heart apart.

Soon after you found yourself in that damn prison with a bracelet over your wrist to “stop you from glitching”. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Miguel was some kind of boss around the place you found yourself in. At least that's what Lyla told you, a artificial intelligence present in the technology around you. It was him who was responsible for you from now on as he visited you every day.

At first, each time you saw him, you tried throwing things at him purely out of rage - a book, a small picture frame or a chair, but each time he managed to catch or turn down anything you tossed. He kept trying to explain to you what was happening and why he couldn’t let you go back into your world. Miguel stated that it was dangerous enough when a non-variant person was messing up with the timeline.

But was this all true? There was no one else you could ask for a second opinion, you had to believe, everything Miguel told you was the truth. Obviously, you questioned everything about him and this place. It felt like you were losing your sanity and a part of yourself.

The well-built man with brown, combed hair was very patient and understable with your rage and sorrow. Until he was not.

O’Hara had enough of your tantrums and one time he scared you truly. Eyes turning bloody red, his veins popping out and his teeth turning into long fangs. He charged at you, shoving your whole body to the wall behind. When your eyes were filled with fear and lungs emptied themself due to the force he pushed you, Miguel contained himself and moved away quickly.

You rarely saw him in this form, but when you finally did - you kept behaving well, not wanting to anger him again. Because you knew nothing about him. What if he was able to hurt you? Or even murder you?

Since then, you tried to suppress any anger and try to figure out how to return to your world, your life. And the brunette kept coming back, each day just to visit you. In the end he was your only company.

Miguel brought you new books or art supplies if you asked Lyla or him directly. The man would spend some time with you - cooking, watching movies, anything you liked to do. But it was months ago.

For the last couple of weeks, you were practically silent and apathetic. Curling inside the armchair near the “window”, napping or sobbing quietly. You’ve been in this prison for too long and it began to crush your spirit.

He acknowledged the change in you and tried talking about it. He kept assuring that he has to keep you here for the world’s sake and balance. Because if someone messes up with the canon again, the universe will collapse. You reprimanded yourself for leaning into his chest when he offered you a comforting hug. Because how could you ever want solace from your captor?

That evening was no different. Miguel visited you after work and found you sitting in silence on that damn armchair. When he crouched down, trying to catch your sight, you scooted backwards in the seat.

━ What’s wrong, cariño?

━ I want to go home. ━ Your voice full with sorrow gained his attention. Where was your spirit he adored so much? The pain in your voice almost made him feel bad. Almost.

Miguel reached towards your exposed calf and started rubbing it with his pointing finger.

━ This is your home, tú lo sabes. [sp.: you know it] ━ His voice sounded peaceful when he reached both of his arms in your direction. His embrace was welcoming, but you knew better. It was like a sweet flavored poison, spreading slowly under your skin, killing you slowly. ━ Come here.

You pushed firmly against his shoulders as you jumped out of the chair and took a few steps back.

━ Miguel ━ you said his name loudly, gaining his full attention. You were being hysterical again. ━ I’ve been here FOR MONTHS. I had life before, I had A PURPOSE. You took it from me!

He tried, he really tried holding himself back this time you talked back. But your whining became annoying and Miguel just knew what would make you feel better.

He stood up to his full height, easily towering over you. Brunette came closer, taking each step slowly, like he was giving you time to calm yourself or at least apologize. But you didn’t even back out.

Miguel was leaning to look into your glimmering eyes and he saw how much you hated him at that moment. “We need to work on that temper”, he once told you, but you thought nothing of it.

His little, feisty nymph. That’s what he liked to think of you.

━ Fine ━ he growled right in your face, before grabbing your arm. ━ I’ll give you a purpose.

The sound of your heavy panting echoed through the room. You tried straightening your hands again, but unsuccessfully as your muscles gave up a long time ago. Only his strong hands kept your ass higher than your head, by the tightening grip over your already bruised hips.

Miguel kept thrusting into your tight cunt until you were a sobbing mess. He already pushed you over the edge at least three times, devouring the little noises you made and how your pussy clenched around his swollen shaft.

Brunette kept one of his palms spread between your shoulder blades, keeping your upper half down, making your spine arch better.

The sweat covered the back of your bent knees, him sliding in and out of you with ease, because of your wetness. Miguel certainly knew where to touch you to make you break into pieces between his fingers.

━ See, doesn't that feel good to be by my side, cariño? ━ He leaned over your puffing frame, cheek dipped in the sheets while he kept fucking you stupid.

━ Mig-Miguel… I can’t… n-no more…. ━ You whispered to him, feeling as each thrust of his hips pushed his cock deeper inside of you. The coiling sensation started to build up again between your trembling legs and in stomach. ━ Please!

━ Just one more, darling. ━ He heard you clearly, but yet he kept sliding in and out of you violently, chasing his own sweet release.

Miguel took his hand away from your back and sneaked between your puffy lips. He spreaded them, opening you up and making it easier for him to find your clit. And when he finally did so, the brunette started rubbing it in a rhythm that quickly made you reach your another orgasm that night.

Your body tensed suddenly and then collapsed into his pelvis, sinking his swollen cock deeper. When your cunt fluttered around him uncontrollably and your eyes rolled backwards, he came inside you, clenching his teeth.

He tilted forward and placed both of his strong hands on each side of you, while coming down from his high. He noticed your grip tightening over bed sheets and smiled, before giving you a tender kiss on the temple.

━ Mi pequeña ninfa. Do you understand now, that only I can protect you? [sp.: My little nymph]

Miguel loved his girl no matter if she had a bad day or not. He was going to make sure, no one will ever take you from him. You’re his precious troublemaker, aren’t you?

━ You belong with me. ━ He growled into your ear.

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #reader insert #smut #miguel o'hara smut

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arabellasleopardcoat · 4 months

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No masters or kings (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Aemond has issues around sex. The thought of being married to you, an angel, it's not helping.

Warnings: Angst (w/happy ending) Religious guilt, repression around sex. Kissing. Thoughts of sex, but no actual smut. Just angst and fluff.

Requested: Yup! Modern reader falls into Sept x Aemond

For as long as he could remember, Aemond had been alone. He had been an outsider to his siblings and nephews, all with a dragon. He had been an outsider to other noble children, marked apart by his distinctive features. He had been an outsider to his father's family, Rhaenyra and her children.

The loss of his eye had only exacerbated that. The girls at court were frightened by the sight of him, and he often worried about how he could secure a match. No longer activities he had found solace in, like studying and swordplay, came easily. Everything, from reading to being able to walk down the stairs without tripping, had to be relearned.

His faith in the Seven had permeated all of his childhood. His mother was the only person to pay attention to him, even if it was sometimes in a way Aemond could not appreciate. When he thought of her, his mind's eye always conjured her with a seven pointed star hanging from her neck.

Aemond had tried his best to keep her happy. She was all he had. So instead of running from his lessons and incurring on indecent behavior, Aemond had closely listened to the Septons that educated them. He had prayed daily. He had read the Seven Pointed Star and annotated its passages, committing them to memory.

Paradoxically, the time when he felt closer to the Gods was after the loss of his eye. It had been then he had truly understood what it felt like to be favored by the Seven. His faith demanded sacrifices, but always rewarded them. An eye for a dragon. The biggest dragon in Westeros.

Sacrifice will bring good things. It was a very simple lesson, but one he committed to memory regardless.

As a child, Aemond had not prayed for a dragon. Nor had he prayed to the Warrior to make him strong and able to defeat his enemies. When Aemond was a child, he had often prayed for a friend. Asking for the Maiden to send him someone kind. An angel. He had never spoken it out loud, afraid of appearing weak. Children were such cruel creatures, after all. But Aemond never forgot to ask the Maiden for it.

Aemond prayed. And suffered. And prayed, and suffered, and thought that at least this life he was leading, of loneliness and desperation and so much fear, would finally account for something. For the Gods favored those who suffered and sacrificed, and if his reward didn't come in this life, it would come in the next one.

His prayers were always the same. Each morning, before anyone else could rise except for the lowliest of servants, Aemond went to the Sept. He spent equal time in front of each of the Seven's effigy and lit a candle for them. He prayed in silence, asking of them simple things. Aemond knew he already led a privileged life, so he did not dare ask for more.

His prayers were so ingrained, he recited them with little thought. Yet, when he came to the Maiden, Aemond always fumbled. With the other Gods, he knew exactly what to ask for. But with Her, he only felt unease. So he rapidly mumbled his childhood prayer, and moved on. It had become a tradition, even if he was no longer the appropriate age to pray for friends.

Aemond knew it was the wrong thing to do. When you were praying, you were supposed to be present. To think of all the aspects of the Seven with the devotion they deserved. But when you are taught as a child to pray, it turns into instinct.

Just as someone who has trained enough with the sword barely thinks about his next move, someone who prays enough doesn't need to think about what they will ask next. It's too ingrained.

At this hour, the Sept is quiet. Aemond enjoys praying here instead of in the one inside the Red Keep. There are no court ladies around to bother him, nor an Aegon making mocking noises while he tries to pray. Despite wanting to join his mother in prayer sometimes, he just couldn't take the royal sept. It lacked the peace septs were supposed to make you feel.

He leaned down, lighting a candle before each effigy, and muttering his usual prayer.

“Warrior, give me strength.” Aemond whispered. He lit the candle and moved on. “Mother, protect my sister and my mother. Father, bring your justice upon my enemies. Maiden, bring me someone kind. An angel.” And as he kneeled to light her candle, something hit him from above.

The weight of the thing was too great for him to remain upright. Aemond was sent sprawling to the floor. His head slammed on the stone floor of the Sept, making him grunt. A woman screamed. Probably, one of the commoners visiting the Sept. They were few at this hour, most having already begun their labors. Her scream was echoed by one of another woman, and soon, hurried footsteps were nearing him.

Aemond tried to sit up, reaching a hand out to move the weight aside. What he gripped, made him fall back down.

Cloth. Cloth covering something soft, something that yielded under his hands. An arm. You. The Gods had answered his call. There was a woman right on top of him, eyes closed and expression smooth, as if in peaceful sleep. The Maiden had sent him an angel, after years of solitude and sacrifice. You were his reward.

Aemond lifted you and set you aside, on one of the benches of the Sept. A couple of the commoners hurried forward, to gape at you, but Ser Criston stopped them.

“A miracle! A miracle!” Someone was screaming, and you twitched. More and more commoners started to pour through the entrance of the Sept, all gawking and murmuring about the woman who had appeared out of thin air.

The people were bright-eyed, frenzied by the demonstration of the Seven's power. They started pushing at Ser Criston, and trying to touch Aemond and you.

Cole and Aemond exchanged looks. If no one controlled the crowd, they might very well end up being torn to shreds by them, in their frantic attempts of touching the holy being they were guarding.

Aemond unsheathed his dagger.

“I think… We need a Septon.”

You were being carried somewhere. You could tell because your head swayed with the movement, unsupported. It was giving you terrible neck pain.

“If she has fallen out of the sky, and there is no hole….”

“A miracle! A miracle! The Seven have…” Fuck, your head hurt, and the woman screaming was not helping things. You flinched, trying to curl into yourself. This felt like the worst hangover ever, and you had no leverage to avoid the noises, since you were hanging in midair.

“The Prince must be held in high regard, for clearly the Gods favor him. Thousands of people pray here daily, yet the Maiden herself answered his plea.” The man from before continued speaking.

Someone else scoffed.

“Surely, this is a bit much. The Prince is hardly…”

“Shut up, Cole.” The person who was carrying you barked. The movement his chest made when he was talking made you fearful of falling down. Despite the strength in his grip, you weighted more than a few sacks of flour or a gallon of milk. People were not supposed to carry other people for long, unless they were frat boys attempting to impress girls or some sort of soldier.

You tried to sit up, the movement making all your body ache. Where were you? Why were you being carried? The last thing you remembered was going into an occult museum with a friend.

Everyone has that one friend. The slightly witchy one who believes in ghosts and crystals and whose favorite month of the year is October. The one who likes terror movies, and scary podcasts and dragging you to haunted houses and escape rooms.

It will be fun, they said. It's an occult museum, what could possibly go wrong?

Where the fuck were they? You were so going to strangle them for getting you… Wherever you were.

“My Lady.” The man holding you said. You looked up and met a pale blue eye and an eye patch. You startled. He looked straight out of a low-budget pirate movie, all in leather. “Are you alright?”

“What happened?” You lifted your head, noticing everyone was cosplaying as medieval priests and knights. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach. The man holding you looked an awful lot like Aemond Targaryen. You would recognize that ensemble anywhere. You had read enough fanfics for it. “Is this a renaissance fair? A comic con?”

It was worth the shot. Perhaps something happened to you and you had stumbled into a comic con? But was it so easy to stumble into one? You thought the tickets for those were expensive, they surely wouldn't just let you in.

Something had happened to you and these kind cosplayers who were… Doing something decided to help you? That seemed more likely.

“No, my lady. This is Westeros. The earthly one.” The man dressed in the more expensive costume of a priest was speaking. He had an elaborate head accessory, billowing robes and some strange pentagram with way more points than usual. His voice was the one which had been muttering about a Prince, and being favored.

“What is a renaissance fair?” The man had the oddest combination of a white cloak and armor. You looked at the man and froze. He was… Oh, what was his name again? Oranges guy!

“Something they must have in the Seven Heavens.” The expensive priest answered, in a matter of fact tone. “Clearly. The Prince asked for an angel. Angels reside there.”

Your mouth was hanging open. They thought you were an angel. Holy shit. You looked down, at your scuffed sneakers and clothes. You didn't feel very angelic, but like hell if you were going to miss the opportunity of receiving royal treatment in Westeros. If you truly were here, you would rather not learn how the lower class lived.

Another priest turned to you. He was dressed as expensively as the first one, but he lacked the head accessory.

“Tell us, young lady. Were you an attendant for the Maiden? What are the Seven Heavens like?”

You panicked. Perhaps pretending to be an angel from a religion you had no clue about was not a good idea. These questions would continue, you knew it.

“Don't be ridiculous, Eustace. Everyone knows that angels can't divulge that sort of thing. It's basic theology. They come to fulfill their purpose, not to entertain fools.” The man with the head accessory spoke, as if talking to a child.

You did your best to sit up. Aemond held you more firmly, and raised his arm on your back, encouraging your head to loll towards his shoulder. You were moving inside a prehistoric looking building, corridors made from stone and decorated with tapestries. The Red Keep, perhaps.

“And what do you believe the being’s purpose to be?” Eustace asked. You did not like being referred to in such a manner, and you fought Aemond's grip a bit harsher. He merely settled you against him and kept walking, this time going up a stairwell. You squirmed.

“The Prince's wife. He prayed for a companion. That must be it.” The expensive priest, Septons they were called, now that you remembered, seemed to have become an expert on all things you. Wisely, you kept your mouth shut.

“Is that why her attire is so immodest?” The oranges guy spoke, reaching for you. He clearly noticed his Prince was struggling and hoped to relieve him of the burden. You clung to Aemond more tightly. You were honest enough with yourself to know you had many impure thoughts about him, and were not going to lose your chance.

Aemond grunted. Encouraging him to keep carrying you beyond his capabilities might not have been your best move.

“You can put me down. I can walk.” You spoke softly, trying to sound your most angelic.

“We are nearly there.” His voice sounded agitated from the physical exertion, but his tone screamed danger. It would wound his pride putting you down now, you realized. He wanted to look strong. “There is no need.”

“The Gods see all, and angels are pure beings. They do not know of such earthly concerns, for they have not been exposed to the sins of the flesh.”

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, sure that you were dreaming. This was turning crazier by the second.

“That is a crass word here, my lady.” Aemond whispered to you. “You shall not repeat it.”

Safe to say, you were learning your lesson. When an occult museum artifact has a sign that says, “Do not touch” you DO NOT TOUCH.

Marrying an angel was not a part of Aemond's plans. Begrudgingly, he admitted he may have to reconsider his more violent revenge plots. Aemond had to prove himself worthy of you, and for once, worthiness did not mean prowess with a sword or riding a dragon. It meant piety.

Piety. Kindness. All the virtues that the Faith enforced and that you were made of. All the virtues Aemond felt he lacked, sometimes.

Taking his nephew's eye would not be kind. You had explained so, as if you could read his mind. You also said that Aemond should not attempt to force him to pay his debt. It had been an alarming show of clairvoyance.

That you were privy to his most secret inner thoughts should not have surprised him so. It was only further proof of your angelic nature.

Your arrival had the Kingdoms in an uproar. The Citadel had wanted to record the circumstances around your appearance, the Faith had made you pose for a portrait. Some even dared utter that perhaps Aemond was better suited to be King, since the Gods clearly favored him.

The King was displeased, but your miraculous arrival had been witnessed by too many to deny it. Aemond had been authorized to marry you, only out of sheer pressure from the High Septon. You were a hero to the man. Families who had been worshiping the Old Gods for generations now rushed to convert. Only House Targaryen remained stagnant.

Even after your marriage, Aemond struggled to catch a minute alone with you. Anywhere you went, people were currying for your attention. If it wasn't his other asking you to join her in prayer, it was some Septon asking you questions, or near mobs awaiting outside the Red Keep for you to appear on a balcony. People thought your touch was magical, that you could heal the sick and bless the innocents. Aemond had to fight to keep their hands off you.

As the wife to a Prince favored by the Seven, all thoughts of going back were stomped on. You had mentioned it once or twice, before he had married you. Going back home, you had said. Aemond understood that the earthly world was much different than where you had been from, and the homesickness that came with it, but he hoped you forgot such silly ideas. There was no way for you to go home, and if there was, he would not allow it.

In hopes of distracting you, his mother had suggested expediting the wedding. Aemond had agreed, but he had soon realized that it was not enough. While sweet and kind to him, and clearly loving, your mind still drifted to thoughts of your life before. Something stronger was needed. And there was only one stronger bond than marriage. He had to put a babe in you.

Such thing, unfortunately, was much harder than expected. To produce a child, a couple needed to lay together in ways Aemond and you had not. You were loving, pressing kisses to his lips and cheeks every chance you had, but it was a pure kind of affection. You had been told that you were his wife, and what that entailed, innocent being that you were. It didn't mean anything. You were only trying to do what you thought was needed.

Aemond didn't dare touch you. It was his right to do so, but he was unsure if it was the moral thing to do. You probably weren’t too sure of the connotations of the act and all that it entailed. Besides, was it really his right? You were no ordinary woman. You were an otherworldly being, an angel, a perfect woman carved out by the Maiden herself and sent to him to love and cherish. You were not meant to be hurt or tainted in any way.

Intercourse was dirty. It hurt maidens, and it was a sin when practiced outside the marriage bed. Despite always pleasurable to him, and sometimes to his companions, Aemond was not too sure he should submit you to it.

You were heavenly. Asking you to have intercourse with him would be asking you to roll around in the mud while wearing a white dress. It would make you earthly, change you. And you were perfect just the way you were.

Yet Aemond could not contain these… Urges. When you kissed the corner of his lips, all he could think about was grabbing you and deepening the kiss until he got to know every inch of your mouth. When you hugged him close, letting him curl around you at night and hide his face on your neck, Aemond thought of kissing and bitting and sucking the supple skin until you were writhing in pleasure. When your hand innocently grazed against his thigh, he thought of his hands squeezing your own thighs, pulling them apart to reveal your core.

It was a sinful way of thinking. He knew it was wrong of him, but he could not stop. He could not control it. If only his waking thoughts were sinful, things would be different. Waking thoughts could be controlled. Dreams could not.

Every night, without fail, Aemond woke up drenched in sweat, breeches uncomfortably tight. He saw you in his dreams, in all sorts of lurid positions. Your pretty lips parted, your thighs fluttering open and closed like the wings of a butterfly. You on your knees, back, your bosom spilling from your bodice, your pretty breasts, nipples puffy. His mouth, his hands, his cock, on you, in you.

The dreams were pleasurable while they lasted, but as soon as Aemond woke up and saw you sleeping peacefully next to him, the guilt returned. You let out the tiniest puffs of air when you breathed, and always chased his warmth on cold nights. Adorable being that you were, you curled into him, unaware of the turmoil you caused.

Aemond could no longer take it. At first, he tried looking for answers to his dilemma inside of books. He soon found out his studies of philosophy and history had not prepared him for the monster that was theology.

So he asked for advice. To the only person who had to be an expert on the topic. The High Septon.

By the end of the day, a panel with four Maesters and ten Septons had been formed to discuss the issue.

“She is a pure being. The Queen and a Septa have confirmed that she has female anatomy, but having it does not mean she should be defiled.” One of the Maesters spoke, frowning. Aemond nodded along. It had been like he thought.

“It's hardly defiling if the Maiden gifted her to the Prince. She blessed the union.” The High Septon argued, sitting straighter in his chair. He clearly was uncomfortable at the thought of Maesters, of all people, interfering in these matters. What Aemond could not figure out was why the man had invited them if they clearly ruffled his feathers.

“The Maiden is a maiden. That's the whole point.” Another Maester rolled his eyes. It was a sound logic. Aemond felt even guiltier after hearing that. Thinking about you in such a manner was impure. You were a representative of the Maiden herself, here on Westeros. Even thinking of such dirty things near you was disrespectful. It was as if he were thinking them about the Maiden herself.

“Well, yes, but if you ask for a wife, is it not implied?” Septon Eustace chimed in. Aemond had never particularly enjoyed the royal Septon, but he was proving to be very useful. “I do not presume to know how the Prince words his prayers, nor do I think I can know his intentions, but…”

A companion. Someone kind. The prayer had started innocent enough, a child asking for a friend. Aemond had kept it worded exactly as it had been back then, when he was eight years old and dragonless. But he had grown, and so had his intentions. When he spoke of a companion, did he still think of a friend? Or rather, a wife?

The word companion indicated someone that assisted, that served to cater to a necessity. Not quite a friend, but someone to ward off loneliness. A somewhat inferior being, even. It was a term used to refer to pets, after all.

Women were precious beings. Images of the mother, to be treasured and protected, but never equals. Wives were, after all, lower than husbands. It was why they must be obedient to them, why they should mind the children and the home. They were not made to stand on their own. Women were made to stand next to a man.

Besides, wasn't it interesting? The Gods could have sent him a man. A boy. A dog. But instead, they had sent him a woman near his age, with pretty eyes and a tempting mouth.

“Hardly.” A Septon interfered. “There has been precedent of marriages that…”

“Marriages declared null.” The High Septon snapped. His mood was a reflection of the room. The conversation was starting to turn more and more heated, murmurs breaking out among the gathered. It brought uncomfortable memories of the day Aemond had met you and had to fight a frenzied mob. He had the feeling this was going to turn into that quickly.

Perhaps sensing the same, another Maester spoke.

“Why don't we ask her? She must know the Seven's will in the matter.”

Neither of the fourteen other men in the room had thought of that.

When Aemond asked you, timidly, if you wished to consummate the marriage, you could have danced from joy.

You had decided early on that if going back was not an option, you were going to make the most of your stay here. You missed your family and friends, but your life here was so pampered that you didn't feel so bad. Any quirks of behavior that you had were excused as part of your angelic nature, and you had the biggest crush on the man who had married you.

If only Aemond didn't refuse to even touch you. So far, you have tried everything. You have kissed him. Stroked him. Cuddled far too close to him, so you are nearly on top of him. Groped his thigh, almost his cock. Your behavior has bordered on indecent even by modern standards, yet Aemond dismisses it all as innocent. He is either the most oblivious man on the planet or he doesn't want you.

That suspicion had given you pause. If Aemond did not want you, you weren't about to force him to do so. You had stopped with your insistent touching, and went back to light kisses on the cheek. Instead, you had made the mistake of looking around.

You are so horny it's driving you mad. Being married in Westeros is not what you thought it would be. You expected much more sex. Besides, everyone here was insanely good-looking, especially the man sleeping next to you and waking up every morning with a raging erection. Anyone with a sliver of a libido would be frothing at the mouth and clawing at walls from horniness.

In your other life, you had watched HOTD and understood the message clearly. Despite being a common occurrence, cheating was not a good idea. There were no reliable contraception methods and no way of preventing STDS.

Even if you were not aware of all the possibles consequences of cheating from your knowledge about the show, you now knew Aemond. He was terrifying, devout, and hated his bastard nephews. You did not want to see what he would do if he caught you cheating.

So here you were. Into forced chastity and perpetually horny, with your husband asking you if you thought it was a good idea to consummate the marriage.

You could have jumped from the bed in your haste to show him exactly what you thought. But you had to maintain your air of an otherworldly being. Which you technically were, since this was not your world.

“Whichever you think best, my Prince.” You answered, voice soft and patient. Just as you had always spoken in his presence. It had done wonders to make Aemond seek your company. He found you soothing, or so he said.

Aemond reached forward. His hand cupped your cheek, very gently. You looked up at him with your most innocent eyes.

He lowered his hand, shoulders slumping in defeat. You tried not to let it show how much it hurt you to have all you wanted dangled in front of you and then taken away.

“I cannot touch you. Nor should I lust after you. You are…” Aemond’s eyebrows pinched together. His face showed an inner conflict that made your own heart soften. Perhaps he had grown to care for you, in the ways you wished he did. He just didn't think it appropriate.

You stepped closer. This time, it was your hands that cupped his face. Aemond's eye closed, briefly. He seemed to be enjoying the touch, committing it to memory.

“Kiss me.” You whispered, pulling him close. Aemond went into the hug, nuzzling your hair. Despite the sweetness with which he responded, his frame was tense. “Please. I beg it of you.”

“I can't. I can't defile you.” He sounded truly strained. You rubbed his back, gently. “ A perfect being, such as yourself, does not deserve this.”

“It won't hurt. I know how to do it.” You explained, softly. Perhaps he worried about hurting you, you thought. You were no blushing virgin, but Aemond did not know that.

“Of course. You are an enlightened being. But it does not mean you have to put that into practice. You must know of the mysteries of death, yet you have not hurt anybody.”

“Because killing is wrong.” And truly, it was a ridiculous comparison. Sex had not killed anyone, at least that you knew of. It was not meant to hurt.

“Sex is, too. It's only for making heirs, and I am a second son. I don't need heirs.”

And by the look of his face, Aemond really believed what he was saying. The thought of him suffering, of being so deeply repressed, hurt you. You understood well how damaging thinking about sex in that way could be.

It hurts you more to think it might have been exacerbated by you. The thought of you being this perfect soul, someone so pure and easily hurt, and then the thought of tainting you. It said a lot about his mental health.

You vowed then you would aid you in any way you could.

“It's not wrong.” You whispered, and moved slightly back from his embrace. “Let me show you.” And you were kissing him, and Aemond was kissing back. His lips were soft, and he held you as if you were the most delicate glass vase he had ever held. You understood him now. And one day, Aemond would understand this too.

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dollopi · 5 months

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FAST AS YOU CAN + BONTEN.

# implications of abuse / manipulation / general yandere themes. ▂▂⌇

manjiro ‘mikey’ sano: overprotective + possessive. (w. clingy traits.)

most likely to have you abducted.

- what comes to define manjiro in his later years is guilt. experiencing so much loss at such an impressionable age has scarred him to such a degree, where mikey's afraid to have anyone closer than at an arms length.

- you're unlucky in this way. where mikey will be sure to have you locked up and kept under a watchful eye, he'll also refuse to strenghten any lasting bond.

- but this relationship won't come to last. at some point mikey will open all of his heart to you, although it's a painstaking process to have him trust that you won't dissappear at any given moment.

- you'll be damned to think that mikey will loosen your restraints, at this point. when he's let his heart go glip, you can kiss any dream of freedom goodbye.

haruchiyo ‘sanzu’ akashi: possessive + obsessive (w. clingy traits.)

- sanzu wants to eat you alive.

- he's loyal as a dog, which is quick to turn suffocating. incredibly eager to serve, sanzu will stop at nothing to have you satisfied.

- unfortunately, this does not mean he puts your actual wants into consideration.

- instead, haruchiyo uses this so-called 'intuition' to bring out vicious massacres in your honor, vowing to have you shielded from this cruel, cruel world.

kakucho: overprotective.

- kakucho adores you.

- out of any bonten excecutive, you are the most likely to actually build a bond with kakucho, one that won't stem from fear. in spite of this, your free will is scarce.

- kakucho has lost the only person whom he would've actually considered his friend, and this means that you will forever stand as a the only worthy placeholder for izana, someone who kakucho was to protect at all times.

- you differ from izana, however, where kakucho knows that you are weak in comparison to him. you are unfit for the life kakucho has sucked you into, exerting no strength that his late king carried.

takeomi akashi: possessive + self-indulgent.

least likely to have you abducted.

- because of takeomi’s hedonistic tendencies, he cares very little for how you go around your daily life, as long as you return to him when he wishes.

- of course that doesn’t mean takeomi’s entirely uncaring, as he’ll have his most trusted subordinates keeping track of your every move.

- takeomi expects your outmost loyalty, and you’d be stupid to think that this means you’re allowed to run around with anyone other than him.

kanji ‘mocchi’ mochizuki: overprotective.

- mocchi likes to believe he is honorable.

- similar to kakucho, he does actually desire an actual bond with you, one where you'll be happy to stay by his side, without the unnecessary force.

- he'll come to find this difficult, however. where kakucho is able to be effortlessly kind and giving with you, you'll most likely be intimated by mocchi's imposing physique, and rough personality.

- although mocchi might find himself dissappointed when you're hiding from him, he'll do his damndest to have you comfortable; all while fighting off the urge to have you forcibly submit to him.

ran haitani: possessive + self-indulgent. (w. clingy traits.)

- where ran stands different from takeomi, is that he’s possessive to a much more personal level.

- takeomi perceives you as something akin to a pet, but ran can somewhat appreciate you as a human being.

- this does not mean that he’ll take your feelings in consideration, however. what this belief extends to are your opinions of him, and ran will make sure that he will occupy your mind, as much as you do his.

- ran is smothering. wherever he goes, you go. unfortunately for you, ran doesn’t go anywhere, most of the time.

rindou haitani: possessive + controlling.

- rindou believes he owns you.

- being so used to having to share the spotlight with his older brother, rindou quickly comes to find that the world splits in two; what is his and what is ran’s.

- and you best believe that when it comes to you, you’re his.

- because of this skewed belief, rindou views you as an extension of himself, believing he would only be right to exert total control of your every action.

- rindou is quick to turn controlling, meticulous in your understanding that you are his.

hajime kokonoi: over-protective + manipulative.

- similar to mikey, kokonoi's biggest fear comes from loss.

- he'll spend years chasing after someone who's long gone, looking for the gust in the wind that is akane, or in the very least a convincing enough lookalike.

- it's likely he'll find you in this search, but where you will differ, is as much more than a simple solace.

- unlike with mikey, you are given the illusion of choice with kokonoi. koko is manipulative as he is overprotective, willing to have you believe you are able to leave at any point, when you have already been spun into his web.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tr #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tr x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #yandere tokyo rev #yandere tr #yandere bonten #yandere mikey #yandere sanzu #yandere kakucho #yandere takeomi #yandere mocchi #yandere ran haitani #yandere rindou haitani #yandere kokonoi

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dulcewrites · 1 year

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Fool Me Once (part 5)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (Aegon ii x reader 👀) (wc: 6k)

Summary: As the further truths are uncovered, the battle for the Iron Throne begins

A/N: soooo, I said part 5 would be the last part, but in typical annoying writer fashion I’m not so sure now 😭. Either way, I truly cannot express how grateful I am for all the followers, and support I have received since starting it. I consider fmo my brain child but our baby with how interactive people have been. I’d love to get feedback or request on what hotd stuff you guys want to see from me. My inbox is always open so please let me know how you liked fmo (any thoughts or headcanons) and what you want to see 🫶🏽

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“We should run away to Yi-Ti.”

You look up from Aemond’s desk at Aegon with an exasperated expression. It was not the first time Aegon had thrown out the idea of leaving King’s Landing for good. There always an idealistic nature about Aegon that is as sweet as it is delusional. You know the guilt he would feel about leaving, and he knows you would too.

I have a dragon we can who can drop us anywhere. I can shave my head and we can change our identities

“You are supposed to help me be looking for this map,” Not bothering to give the same speech you tell him every time he brings it up.

Gently placing everything where you found it, you squat down to check the cabinets of the desk. Aemond kept his study annoyingly tidy, and you are sure we would notice if anything were out of place. The last thing you need is another argument.

There are multiple books, all of them relating to Westerosi histories, and a plethora of written works of poetry. Nothing stands out till you find a pile of letters. Your throat tightens. It shouldn’t hurt anymore, but now the situation has moved past just Aemond wanting to be with someone else. It affects your kids, your relationship with everyone in the family.

You are just tired, and you just want it end. Or at least to have some sort of closure through an explanation or an apology. You are not holding your breath for the later.

With a sigh, you sit, slumped against the wall. Across from the desk. Noticing you are out of his view, Aegon walks around the desk and sits next to you. The two of you sit in silence before Aegon speaks.

“We can skip dinner,” he suggests softly. “I am sure our absence will not be noticed.”

It is a lie. You both know that if you do not show up, you will be in for an earful from Alicent. Especially now that Viserys has finally worked up the strength to leave his chambers. Aegon reaches over to grab your hand. You look at the large ring on his pinkie finger. The golden scales an ode to Sunfyre. Even with all the problems Aegon has with family, he has always fully embraced his dragon. A bond you have never seen before between rider and dragon. You run your hand over the cool metal.

“You know, despite my hesitance towards dragons, sometimes I am envious of you guys for having them.” you laugh flatly. “It is not even the beasts themselves, but everything they represent. This strange strength that means you are better than everyone else. A free pass for destruction.”

The past year and a half had been a sobering one. You feel so disconnected from yourself. Depleted by actions outside of your control.

“But then I think maybe it is good I do not have a dragon; or more so I do not have the power that comes along with it. I have spent my whole life doing exactly what I was supposed to, just to still get dealt a hand of misfortune,” you murmur emotionless. “I fear that there was tiny seed of hate put in me when I first found out about Aemond’s actions, and that everything that has happened since has only made me more bitter and revengeful. I was told that fighting wrong doings with more destruction was never the answer. I do not know how much I believe that now.”

You look over at Aegon with an illegible look in your eyes. “I would go mad with the things I would do with that kind of power.”

Aegon swallows thickly. Honestly, his first instinct is to make a joke. You, the girl who got teary eyed when she learned about the field of sheep kept in the Red Keep for the dragons, speaking with such gravity. But his eyes travel to the faded scar on your arm and back up to you. The harm done to yourself, grief-stricken eyes, and tired frown. He’s only seen that type of look on his mother. The most persistent person he has ever known, and probably will ever know. She wakes up every day to tend to a man that has never done right by her and run a kingdom she did not want in the first place. There is a simmering type hate in your eyes that he is sure only comes from being around his family for too long.

He wonders if this is how his mother felt when she had him. Young, exhausted, and utterly pissed.

“You are not the only one who feels that way,” he softly. “But - you cannot let it get the best of you. Once you get in that place, it is hard to get out.”

You know he speaks from experience. Resentment leaves a bad taste in the mouth of those who feel like life has let them down.

You want to say that another worry is what will happen if you ever find equal footing with the men in your life. Would the spell wear off you were a flight risk? Would you be seen as a volatile powder keg if not a maiden to come to the defense of? Would you be seen as the prize in his eyes if you were not in the position you ate in? In that moment, you think you should tell him about what you let his grandsire do. If anyone would understand, it would be Aegon. Instead, you lean your head against his shoulder.

You do not have the words for that just yet.

————

The search for the map in Aemond’s study goes unsuccessful. You decide to change tactics. There is a slight uneasiness you get digging through his things in the chambers. Soft whiff of lavender and citrus hit you nose as you look through folded clothes of his. You heart rate spikes when you see a scroll of thin parchment. Looking back to check the door, you then unroll the paper.

There is various lines and arrows, but the words are all in high Valyrian. You have picked up and word here and there since being in the Red Keep, but not well enough translate every word. Instead, you follow the arrows. Walking around the room in a way you are sure would look silly to someone if they walked in.

You find yourself in front of the small outline wall next to your clothing wardrobe. Blinking blankly at the wall, you frown. You run your fingers gently across the fabric on the wall. The deep red and gold stitching smooth under your hands. You push harder than intended and gasp when the wall swings open.

In front of you are stairs that lead down a pathway. A tunnel. You do not venture too far, but you see where the path is leading to. Daemon had given Aemond a direct line to outside the Red Keep. And a direct line for anyone to come in.

But why?

As you walk down the tunnel, something shiny catches your eye on ground. You pick up a single earring. A gold plaited coin earring. It is oddly familiar, but you cannot seem to put your finger on who it belongs to.

All you do know is that someone has been using the tunnel recently.

A part of you wanted to storm through the castle and find Aemond. Have him explain what the Seven Hells has been going on. Or if he even used the tunnels. But you surprise yourself when you knock on the Hand’s study door. Perhaps he is not the best person to go to in this state. You know it is not comfort you will find. But for all his faults, Otto Hightower will tell you want you need to hear or at least you will have his ear.

You are now not naive to how much Lord Hightower seems to want to keep you around.

After it was decided Aemond and you were to get married, you were not clueless enough not see the clear advantages not only for you house, but also for his. Your only naive thought being the mutual benefit would keep you safe or protected.

When you walk into the study, you find Otto sitting at his desk, staring out of the window. You know Viserys’ surprise appearance at the petition hearings rattled him as much as it pleased Rhaenyra and her family. You do not know where to begin or what you are even expecting of this conversation.

“Did you know about the tunnels,” you blurt suddenly. “The ones that run under the castle.”

In typical Otto fashion, his face does not give anything away. But he does shake his head, and gestures for you to continue.

“I…. I think Prince Daemon may have had something to do with my… problem.”

That makes Otto lean forward in his seat, the mention of Daemon clearly stirring something in him. You aren’t ready to put anything on Princess Rhaenyra yet. Partly because you are still wonder where her limits are opposed to seeing exactly how Daemon operates. And because just saw what happens when you question Rhaenyra, even if you have proof or a valid criticism.

“And if they had something to do with her, I cannot help but wonder if they had something to do with what happened to Alaric’s blanket,” you still shudder thinking about it.

You already had a deep sense of guilt since giving Otto the go ahead to find Alys. Taking a life is not something you want on your hand and conscious, and it only doubles knowing how this all could have been a perfectly plotted scheme. Your anger at your husband reaches a new level. Whether Alys was the shiny poisoned apple or a woman in love that has gone rouge, this still involves your kids.

“It seems your family’s influence is something many have noticed,” Otto finally speaks, voice gravely and tone even.

Your brows furrow. “They think threatening my son is going to make me tell my parents or uncle to back Rhaenyra’s claim?”

Your grandsire was an old man by the time Rhaenyra was named heir; your uncle took over for your house shortly after that time. And your uncle was just as thrilled as your parents when you married Aemond, clearly excited to have familiar ties to the Targaryen family. Now that you thought about it, you had never asked him where he stood when it comes to Rhaenyra being heir. But based on knowing how your family acquired their wealth and how they operate, they have never been ones to stray from tradition. Despite your grandsire bending the knee to Rhaenyra, you get the feeling everything is up the air especially with you being the good sister to the other possible claim.

“No, dear girl,” Otto sighs, eyes growing tired. “But I am sure they think you feeling unsafe here and having no love for your husband’s actions will.”

Your mind goes back to Rhaenyra’s offer. You are always welcomed at Dragonstone.

They hoped you would seek refuge in them, and in turn feel compelled to drop any allegiance you have to this side of the family. Did they know about how close you had grown to Aegon or to Helaena? Or that even through this turbulent time, you still find yourself having a soft spot for Alicent. You are sure they would reassure your safety if you ever switched side, but you know your safety was not a priority to them. Only the men or ships that would come with it.

“I am not shocked Daemon would go to such lengths, if true,” Otto says. “I would say I am shocked Rhaenyra would go along with it, but the Princess has always found a way to involve herself in things while feign innocence.”

His words make you raise a brow. You never knew if the Hand’s anger towards the Princess came from how she treated Alicent or his grandchildren, or if it came from the pressure he felt to get Aegon on the throne. Perhaps it is Alicent, even all this time and animosity, still craving a relationship with Rhaenyra that eats him up the most.

“You do not need to worry about that. Everything will be put to rest once the rightful heir is put on the throne, and any possible threats have been ridden,” his tone turns stern. You scoff sardonically in response. This is never going to end till there is a clear winner, and win to means there was a fight. War. That would only start if…

“The Queen would never let you do that. Usurp the throne or kill Rhaenyra,” you say immediately. Otto eyes narrow; the tell. It will always be Rhaenyra for his daughter, and it burns him inside. But that can be used in your favor. “Not unless she had more reason to. Rhaenyra could be a good queen for all we know, but her brazenness will always be her pitfall. Now she has Daemon at her side. Spilled blood is clearly not something he is worried about.”

You sit back in your chair and think for a second. Entitlement is like a dangerous herbal, and many members of this family get off on it.

“If you want Aegon on the throne, it may be best to take your time with this. Give Rhaenyra the chance to do what you think she does best… mess it up.”

By the time the power struggle between Rhaenyra and Daemon finally comes to fruition, maybe Aegon think differently. Your mind goes to Aemond, stewing silently about how his brother manages to get everything handed to him. You bite back a smile. Is a miserable existence to always be in the cards for him? If being with you is so terrible to him, maybe that is exactly what he deserves.

“I think I know how to start this off.”

———

You leave Otto’s study, but not before he leaves you with a long, meaningful glance and tells you he needs to discuss somethings with others. You assume it is the council, but you have a feeling his daughter is not privy to that.

The next time you see everyone is at dinner. Your eyes strained on the empty plate in front of you. A sick feeling coming over you every time you look down the table at Daemon and Rhaenyra. A large gap for the king between Rhaenyra and Alicent.

There is something unsettling about how everyone seems to think what happened in the Grand Hall was nothing. You all saw a man beheaded, and now are to sit down to a "family meal" at the behest of the King. The only mention of Vaemond comes in a prayer from Alicent; you catch the eyeroll given by Daemon. The lives of others are expendable if it prolongs or prompts up whatever claim is being fought for.

False promises do nothing to move you while that is all that makes up the Targaryen family. False promises to make up for future deceit. The gull of Viserys to plea for peace when many the broken relationships in the family can be tied to him. Tied to his indecisive, feeble reign as a king. The King That Never Should Have Been perhaps.

A sick sense of irony rushes over you watching his rioting body and empty eye socket while sitting next to Aemond. You have learned that the Gods can be deliciously cruel.

The crown not stand strong is the House of the Dragon remains divided

It’s all flowery words that seem to go in one ear and out the other for your peers. You can tell by the way Aegon’s eyes gloss over, Helaena brows burrow as she fiddles with whatever butterfly Aegon gave her, and how Aemond’s back stiffens that this final push for family unity comes too late. But it seems that all the older adults in the room are moved by the Viserys' speech, or at least Alicent and Rhaenyra are.

You and Otto, sitting across from each other, share a look when Alicent says that Rhaenyra would make a fine queen. The Queen and Princess exchange shy smiles and peripheral glances; for a moment, they look like young girls, untarnished by the world around them.

Your eyes catch Jacaerys’, and he gives you a warm smile. You try to replicate it to the best of your ability. None of Rhaenyra or Daemon’s children have done anything to make you suspicious of them, especially Baela and Rhaena. But you do notice how Lucerys never seems to look you in the eyes. You are still trying to figure out if that is a byproduct of you being Aemond’s wife or if he is privy to information.

When you were receiving offers for your hand, Jacaerys’ name had come up by members of your house but was instantly shut down by your parents. Though the idea of you being future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was tempting, but they did want to risk the embarrassment of the worst kept secret being spoken. Marrying a bastard was not the vision they had for you, Queen or not.

But when the music behinds, you do get an idea.

“I going to dance,” you whisper to Aemond.

“You know I do not like dancing,” Aemond sighs, and Aegon gives you a look at the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes at him. You remember the lecture his mother had to give him before the wedding festivities about being a good sport, and dancing with you.

“I never said I wanted to dance with you,” you hiss at him, and get up. You feel Aemond and Aegon watching you as you walk to Jace.

“I was wondering if we could dance,” you hold your hand out. Eyes going from Jace to Baela. “If your betrothed is fine with it of course.”

Baela gives you a good-natured shrug and smile. Jace looks surprised by your offer, but nonetheless grabs your hand and leads you to the free area near the table. You turn back briefly to see Aegon and Aemond look at you with mirrored looks of disbelief and disgust. You have duck your head to keep from laughing.

“I have to warn you I am not much of dancer,” Jace smiles as you begin to dance. “But I am sure I cannot be any worse than my uncle.”

You raise a brow at the comment but say nothing. While you are dancing, you see Viserys get carried out. The fact that he has lived to this point is a marvel… and a confusion. He refuses to go away.

“I do hope after that all of this, our families can see each other more often,” he lowers his voice slightly. The sentence seemed sincere enough, but he has also grown up having pretend half of him does not exist. If it is something Alicent and Rhaenyra’s children have in common, it is knowing when to put on a front. They learned it beautifully from their mothers. “I am sure Daella would appreciate seeing Dragonstone. And the girls would love you around.”

There is that mention of Dragonstone again. Before you can even reply, a commotion disturbs you. You turn to see Aemond standing with a drink in his hand.

“I want to make some final tributes,” a small smirk comes onto his face, and his eye flicks over to you. “First, to my dear wife. A gracious mother, and always keeps me on my toes.”

Your face gets hot when everyone’s eyes turn to you. Alicent looks at her son with a nervous look in her big eyes, confused by his sudden need to speak after a dinner of silence.

“And to health of my nephews - Jace, Luke, and Joffrey,” a sinking feeling comes into your stomach. There’s a glint in Aemond’s eye that you recognize all too well, and know not to trust. You see Jace’s shoulders tense at the mention of him and his brothers. “Each of them handsome, wise…. Strong.”

Your throat tightens. Even putting aside, the absolute irony of that coming from him now, you all just saw what happened to someone who questions the parentage of them. And now he is doing here in front of everyone.

“Aemond,” you begin, not even caring to use formalities with him. He cuts you off and continues.

“Come, let us drain our cups to the three Strong boys.”

And of course, to make matters worse, Aegon confidently raises his goblet in the air. They’re imbeciles. Everything seems to happen in slow motion - Jace punching Aemond, Aemond pushing Jace with ease, to out of the corner of your eye, Aegon slamming Luke’s face into the table. You wince at the scene before you as Helaena gets up to move you out of the way of the guards restraining Jace and Luke.

Alicent and Rhaenyra both get up from the table, yelling at their boys to stop. You take notice of the roasted pig on the table; you had heard about the pink dread prank from Helaena. It was never something you pushed with Aemond or Aegon, knowing it led to a large rift in their relationship. You know they love each other; you can tell by the way they backed each other up that they do. They just do not have the words to express their love, or their pain.

A dinner that was meant to bring everyone together ruined. There will probably always be too much bad blood, and not enough honest or apologies for reconciliation. Before Daemon leaves the room after staring Aemond down, he gives you a smile filled with mirth. A chill runs up your spine.

You watch as Alicent all but walks up to Rhaenyra, eyes soft and pleading. She gently rubs her arm as they smile at each other.

With the dinner going wrong, Aemond stalking out of the room, and learning about the map - everything seems to be put into perspective. As you watch your good mother, you wonder if that is how you will be with Aemond. Always waiting and ready for reconciliation, even despite mistreatment. Foolishly dismissive to how you can be hurt again if it means just moments of reprieve. Or maybe a better comparison would be Rhaenyra and Daemon. Knowing exactly what situation you got into, but still finding yourself wanting more because you thought you would be the exception. Both scenarios mean being in a constant loop of love and hate, praying for the day you reach apathy.

Rhaenyra seems to share Alicent’s warm disposition. Everything is warm and lovely when Rhaenyra smile. She is the Realm’s Delight for a reason. Even with the little time you have spent around Rhaenyra, you see how she operates. It is the way all Targaryens are treat her like the world revolves around her, and she’s yours. Entitlement and confidence used to mask a hallow shell, a trait she shares with her husband.

The possible reconnection of old companions would be a sweet affair. Instead, you finally get the complaining Aegon does about his half-sister. To hear the praises of those who have little regard for you.

Daemon giving Aemond the map, Alys introduction into your life, Rhaenyra telling you Dragonstone will always be a place you can go, and your families ties to this family are all connected. The same way your marriage to Aemond was always leading to something.

It was always a question you pondered since coming to the Red Keep. Does the Iron Throne corrupt those who vie for it or do those who vie for it corrupt the Crown itself?

Now not only have you been caught in the crossfire, but you children as well. And who knows what will come of the rest of your family once King Viserys dies. One thing you do know is that you will not leave any stone unturned by the time Rhaenyra tries to sit the throne. If your involvement is what they want, your involvement is what they will get. If your happiness and well-being is worth the price of the throne, what would happen if it was taken away right when she had it? Like your stability or sanity, ripped away without any caution or care.

This power that Rhaenyra is sure is hers to claim. The one that those want so badly for Aegon. The seat Aemond watches enviously as Aegon scoffs at the idea of it.

“Princess Rhaenyra,” you call out after her before she leaves the dining hall. You reach out to grab her hand in a similar manner to Alicent. “I want to talk with you about Dragonstone.”

If they are willing to rip each other apart for the Iron Throne, so be it.

Aegon and Aemond stare at you like you have three heads when you tell them about wanting to stay at Dragonstone. Aegon goes as far as to giggle at your proposal. His eyes wild and glossy from the abundance of wine.

A part of you thought maybe you should just leave, but you know them. There is nowhere you can go that they cannot find you on dragon back. Plus, you still had to explain everything to your parents. You let them in on you leaving while holding some cards to your chest. Their faces go through a mirage of expressions. Aegon's brows shooting up when you mention the tunnels and Daemon while Aemond's going painfully stoic. You know he does not want you or Aegon to get a read on what he is thinking.

"So, you think Daemon and by extension Rhaenyra knew about the Strong whore, and wanted you to be upset enough to leave," Aegon begins sardonically, and Aemond's eye flickers to him when he says whore. "And in response.... you are leaving. Wow dearest, you are really sticking it to them."

You glare at him. You know he is hurt that you are leaving, even if it is for a short time. He is upset that this all leads back to the throne. For every part of Aegon that is loyal and loves deeply, there are parts that are equally selfish. It hits you that Aegon has never had to try with relationships; the only ones he knows are with women that are his family or with ones where he can buy their affection. Those women have no choice but to be around. But you are leaving, and without him… that would be a blow he would not recover from.

"I am not going for long, and I will be taking Quinton with me," you say, and Aegon rolls his eyes in response. "They involved my son, so I will get to the bottom of it."

"I'm sure Jace will be thrilled to hear it," he scoffs.

"You have no right to be jealous; you are not my husband."

It was cruel to say, and you can tell by the way his resolve turns from anger to bitterness. "I am needlessly reminded of that, thank you."

Your brows furrow at that. Who is reminds him of that? You sigh, running your hands over your face.

“This is punishment. This is because of me.”

Aemond finally speaks up, interrupting your argument with Aegon. He looks away from the fire and at you with a look you have not seen in moons. Sadness. You are sure this news is a lot for him to take in. It would be a lie to say that you are not at least a little happy that he feels uneasy about you possibly leaving. Or a little happy that the love story he had built in his head was not exactly what it seems.

It would serve him right. He felt comfortable enough to do what he has done because there was always the expectation you would be around. Sitting in the Red Keep, taking care of your children and waiting to him to finally come around.

“Give us the room,” you whisper to Aegon. He leaves in a huff, not happy with you. You walk over and sit on the seat opposite to Aemond's.

The only noise that permeates throughout the room is the crackling of the fire in front of you two.

“It is foolish for you to think they would not harm you, especially now,” he starts to fiddle with his fingers, a tick he has picked up from his mother. “You would in place surrounded by her people… by dragons.”

“She would not hurt me. Not now, she wants my family’s support,” you rebut.

He does not answer right away.

“You would be giving her exactly what she wants. Us apart.”

Us. You two have not been an ‘us’ for quite some time, and Aemond referring to you as that makes you chuckle coldly.

“That’s the point, dear husband,” your eyes drift from him to the burning flames. “You know how your sister is. She wants everything entirely too much, and now she has a guard dog, planning and watching her every move. This just one step in her 'preparing' for the throne, and what may happen if she takes it."

“She is not fit for the throne. Neither of them is,” he says bitterly. “It would cut her up inside and out just like it did my….”

He trails off softly. Viserys was never made to be King, but then again who is. By the time everything falls into place, things will be different.

“So, we let it.”

Your conversation is stopped by Quinton opening the door for Jayne.

"Sorry, my lady but your parents were asking for you," she says softly. You notice how her eyes seem to survey the room. Taking inspection of anything and everything in it. Your parents watched Daella and Alaric for you during dinner. You nod in acknowledgment, but as you get up you notice the necklace she wears.

A gold plaited coin dangling on a dainty gold chain, perfectly matching the earring you found in the tunnel. Your blood runs cold.

"Thank you, Jayne," you stand up slowly as your eyes go to Aemond. You hope he can read something, anything from the look in your eyes. Your eyes travel to the wall where the secret door is. His eye looks at you, then to Jayne, and you watch him swallow and sink back into the chair.

"Ser Quinton, if you do not mind staying," Aemond says softly, going back to staring at the fire. "I have something I need you to tend to."

Quinton gives you a skeptical look, knowing the tense history between him and Aemond but you give him a reassuring smile.

Maybe it is time Quinton proves his unwavering loyalty to you.

“I just need…. to get away,” it was not a complete lie. On top of having things to figure out, you were looking forward to getting away from the Red Keep. Even if it was to Dragonstone of all places.

Your father had giving you a skeptical look when you mentioned going to Dragonstone. You tell him this the perfect time for him to stay in King’s Landing in your stead. You whisper to him to stay close to the Hand and to Prince Aegon. When his resolve still did not chance, you told him about this being an opportunity for Daella to get connected to her ancestral home, and he understood. He always has a soft heart when it comes to his grandchildren.

It was your mother who gave you the most grief about the proposition. She stays in the room after your father has left.

“I do not think it is appropriate you leave your husband,” she sighs. “Especially at a time like this.”

It has always been her concern. Your allegiance to Aemond and in turn to the who she thinks should sit the throne. A part of you wants to tell her the plan. Maybe rub in her face that Aegon wants you.

But you know you would not be met with an impressed gaze or her questioning how your life has come to this place. Instead, she would ask why you haven’t debased yourself for him yet? Why haven’t you jumped at the chance to be in his bed, in his mind, under his skin the way real lovers do. Sometimes you look at Aegon and ask yourself the same questions. The most frustrating part is you know he would take you up on it. Aegon would indulge the most depraved parts of you because those of the ones he likes the most.

Your mother always manages to seep her way into things that should be good for you. It happened moons ago when you first became friends with Helaena. It is how you are in this mess now. Telling her about Aegon before the right time would be fatal. A blow to your plan, and the last remaining pieces of your heart.

“Perhaps he can come with you?”

“The point is to have some time away from each other. He thinks it would do us some good too.” Your spine feels tight as you are painfully aware of your posture in front of her, “The Princess offered, and it would be rude not take her up on it. She is till the heir till otherwise.”

Your mother stares at you for a moment. She scrutinizes every part of your face, the face she gave you wholly. Her only daughter. The person she has invested so much in.

“You always do this,” she starts coldly. “Shrivel up when things do not go your way. You have so much put in front of you, and you do so little with it. Leaving your husband when things are tough? I thought I raised you better than that.”

A lump grows in your throat. You are taken back to your wedding day. Your mother talking you through a panic attack, telling you to think of your future. That not going through with the marriage means throwing away years of work. In the end, you walked down the aisle. You followed through, and now the debt comes due. You are her biggest star, and her gravest disappointment.

Everything she could have had, and nothing she ever was at your age. You know your mother is happy with her position now, later in life. Reaping the benefits of your father’s house, but it was not always like that. There was never an opportunity to be draped in silk or have the ear of the royal family when she was your age.

“When this does not work, I hope you will not go running to your father.”

And with that she gets up and leaves you in the kids’ room.

You flinch when the door slams. As you sit in silence, you wonder if you would have gotten a different response if you told her about Alys. Maybe she would have pulled you into her arms like she did when you were younger. Deep down, you know she would have asked you what you did wrong; what did you do to make Aemond want to find comfort in another woman. Regardless of the pretenses, he still jumped at the first chance he got at something he saw as real. She would see it as a sign of failure on her part. She did not instill the right values in you to keep your husband happy. She has a funny way of flipping everything on its head, and yet you still crave any validation from her.

Your mother is as cruel as she is dutiful. As cold as she is charming. And as calculating as she is hurt and wounded by the world, she grew up in. The more your plan falls into place the more you find solace.

You are your mother’s daughter.

Taglist: @hydrationqueensworld @xkennobi @dc-marvel-girl96 @lyannesworld @msmarvel-19 @tremendouswolfsaladranch @widemiffyhappy @thenovelcarnival @hanihoney88 @kore-of-the-underworld @xoprincessmel @strawbrryquinn @targaryenmoony @blazzlynch @curlszx88 @crazymusicgirl104 @fanfics4ever @anndraco0523 @weepingwitchofthewest @alinagonewlid @signyventia

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #hotd imagine #aemond fic #aegon ii x reader #aegon x reader

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my1oves · 1 month

Note

!!!Contains spoiler !!!

How about Mithrun getting saved by a tall-man(fem/gn from Laios'ss party) when he was about to get killed by the goat demon and one of his only desires becomes meeting ,thanking ,getting to know that person?

(if timeline bothers you, you can say this tall man aged slower or that they used some type of time magic to go back to save him at least a little ?)

savior

꒰ includes ꒱ ⸻ (dungeon meshi) mithrun.

꒰ warnings ꒱ ⸻ gn! reader, angst & some gore in the middle (a good ending though), ignores the canon timeline & also has some wishy washy time-portal-dungeon-magic stuff (let's imagine all dungeons are connected through time and space for this story)

꒰ blossom's note ꒱ ⸻ goodness this was so much fun to write (albeit sad and gory). i want to hold his hand and tell him everything will be okay and look after him and help him find new desires aUGH MITHRUN HAS MY HEART PLS- ahem, anyways... thank you for the request! i hope you enjoy it!

“It’s you.” Mithrun rasps, staggering forward towards you, almost tripping over himself. “How are you still… I didn’t think I’d get the chance to-” His hand weakly reaches out for you, but you take a hesitant step back. You were scared. You didn’t know who he was, and he could tell. Did he get the wrong person? No. There was no way he’d get it wrong. You looked exactly the same as you did then. His heart was stirring in his chest, a long since unfamiliar feeling for him.

“Do I know you?” Your guard was up. Did you forget about him? But how could you possibly… That moment wasn’t just something from another weekday- was it? It was the worst moment of his life, and you saved him from it. So why…

“You saved me. I- I found you.”

“I think you’ve got the wrong person.” You offer, but he doesn’t seem to accept that. No. He was sure of it, whoever it was he was looking for, he was set on it being you. You couldn’t help but feel compassion for the elf. He looks like he’s been through hell and back. You wish you had been the person who saved him, the person he was looking for.

“No. It was you. I know it was, please, remember.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could, but…” You take another step back, guilt gnawing at you at his panicked and hurt gaze. “I wish I was the one you were looking for but I’m-”

Another step back, it was your last, as you feel your footing slip. You hear shouts of your name coming from somewhere, Laios yelling for you to grab on but there's nothing for you to grab. The last thing you see is Marcille and Izutsumi peering over the edge of a cliff before you black out.

And when you wake, you find yourself in a dark room.

Wincing, you sit up and look around. This dungeon… You could feel it immediately, this dungeon was not the same one you were just in. The air was completely different. Weakly standing up, you steady yourself before calling out. “Laios? Marcille? … Senshi?” But no response. It was just you.

Picking your sword off the ground, your ears pick up a commotion, and then blood curdling screams. Despite the ache in your bones, you rush after the scream, opening the door and turning down one hallway to the next, you finally stand outside the room. Despite the eerie silence that now hangs heavy in the air, the stifling atmosphere coming from this room is deadly. Your hand touches the knob, icy cold, before turning it and pushing it open.

With horror, you watch as a goat-man-monster-thing digs its thumb further into the eye of the victim- one you recognized. It was that elf from earlier, despite looking different, it was without a doubt him. With no time to speculate what was going on, you finally move. The squelching makes you queasy, and despite the fear coursing through you, and the trembling of your hand, you draw your sword. A shaky exhale, you close your eyes and charge with a piercing shout.

“G- Get away from him!” You cry, swinging your sword wildly. This monster was definitely not one Laios had ever mentioned; You had no idea what this monster's weak point was. You only prayed you could at least scare it off so you could rescue the elf.

Peaking an eye open, the demon stares at you with contempt. You had done nothing to truly scare the beast- in fact it didn’t even seem impressed with your bravery. It was annoyed. It removes itself from devouring the man before you, licking its lips as if it just enjoyed the finest meal. “Don’t… Don’t make me hurt you,” You say, pointing the sword at the monster as you drag the elf away. It lets out a sigh.

“You will come to regret this.” It speaks, before flicking its wrist at you and the man. Gasping, you cling on to the elf tightly, holding him close to you as you two seem to get thrown through the ever-shifting labyrinth of the dungeon, before getting flown through a mirror.

Wheezing, you clutch at your ribs, surely to have bruised them pretty badly. “Are you okay?” All you get in response is a groan, and a lazy roll of the head. The man stares at you. Blood dripping down the side of his face, he rasps, reaching out for you weakly.

“Tha–”

The door to the room gets thrown open, an army of elves standing right there. “A tall-man?”

“It’s Mithrun!” One shouts, and before you could speak, that familiar sinking sensation tingles at your knees. You glance down from your knelt position and find the purple portal.

“W- Wait! Find me!” You shout, “Find me in the future! I’ll be waiting!” And then you’re falling, You’re falling, and falling, and falling until your back hits the ground with a splash. Landing in some water, you tilt your head back to see a familiar waterfall. Your eyes close, unable to hold on to consciousness any longer.

And when you awake, you’re surrounded by your party. Chilchuck is immediately scolding you for being clumsy, and Marcille is latching on to you with tears. Laios watches you from afar, shaking his with a ‘you gave us a scare’ whilst Senshi nods in agreement. Izutsumi just watches you carefully. You blink a few times, sitting up only to groan in pain. Yep, definitely some bruised ribs.

“Where is he?”

“Where is who?”

“The elf! Mithrun!” You cry. Shit. Despite the pain shooting throughout your body, the throbbing in your head, the burning in your back, you push yourself to sit upwards. “I need to find him, I have to make sure he’s okay.” They all try to coax you into laying back down but you refuse, until the door opens and there he stands.

“You’re awake.” He says. “I know you do not remember me-”

You lunge at him, worried gasping sounds coming from your party members. You clutch on to his shoulders, his support being the only thing keeping you upright. (Perhaps you’ve broken a leg too…)

“I remember.” You say, squeezing his shoulders gently. “You’re okay… I’m so glad you’re okay.” You laugh weakly, relieved, your head falling forward with a shaky sigh. “Ah, I’m so glad you found me…” His eyebrows raise.

“You do remember.” Lifting your head up again to meet his eyes, you nod. “I… I’ve wanted to thank you for so long.” Mithrun’s voice trembles, perhaps the most emotion he’s shown since quite some time. “I finally get to meet you.”

“A- As sweet and… uhm, confusing as this is, they really need their rest to heal.” Marcille breaks in awkwardly, not wanting to interrupt such a heartwarming reunion, but knowing you’re injured pretty badly.

“Oh, right.” Mithrun seems almost disappointed to hear this. “Could we talk later, then?” He asks, and you nod, with that gentle and reassuring smile that had him craving to know more. That desire that he thought he’d never get to fulfill blooming in his chest. “Then, get some rest. We will have plenty of time to talk later.”

꒰ ❀ ꒱ thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!

#dungeon meshi x reader #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi headcanons #delicious in dungeon x reader #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon headcanons #mithrun x reader #x reader #fluff #imagines

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celtic-crossbow · 5 months

Text

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Chapter 11

Warnings: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SA. Please venture forth with caution. Typical TWD violence and gore; blood; injury.

A/N: I don’t know why but I feel like Daryl is extremely OOC in this chapter. Maybe I’m just being a bully to myself. I’ll try to rein him back in with future chapters. I’m sorry.

Daryl’s feet carried him at a slow pace, seemingly knowing where he was headed. He ended up outside of the cell Hershel would use for medical purposes. Reluctantly, he tapped his knuckles against the bars and waited for the veterinarian to invite him inside.

The curtain was moved aside and Daryl noticed the absence of you and Carol immediately. “She okay?” He asked gruffly, not willing to show any fondness toward you. You likely knew exactly how he felt, at least in a physical sense. He didn’t need everyone else donning those knowing smiles like they had any clue of the turmoil he was battling inside.

Hershel stood with the help of his crutches and hobbled his way to the archer. “She’s just fine. A little shaken up but that’s to be expected for someone with her background. She said she was going back to the fences.”

Daryl nodded. “Okay then.” He turned to leave— to find you —pausing when a gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“She trusts you, you know.” Hershel said with his gentle smile. The hunter enforced his unreadable mask. “She has a lot of fear and rightfully so. But she trusts you.”

“She shouldn’.” Daryl replied, blue eyes dropping toward the floor before he presented another nod and left the cell. It wasn’t that he didn’t want your trust. He didn’t deserve it. The archer knew what had been done to you, yet when he lay awake at night, it was you that he envisioned while stroking himself to the precipice of pleasure.

It was wrong.

It was immoral to fantasize about how it would have felt to have you that night beside the fire. You were willing but it wasn’t real. You wanted him because of obligation, not because you felt anything toward him. Not even because you just needed to be fucked. But because you had been brainwashed to think that was what you were supposed to do.

Guilt sat like a stone in his gut and he didn’t know how to process it; how to move past it. Maybe training you— building you up to take care of yourself —would absolve him. He could give you that, asking for nothing. You could move forward with knowing that someone could show you kindness with no strings attached.

Daryl heaved an intensive sigh and stepped outside. You would be waiting for him with those wide, pretty eyes. When he was closer to his destination, however, he found that you weren’t there. He continued regardless and collected your knife, slipping it behind his belt. You had probably wandered off with Carol when he didn’t show. It was probably for the best.

He was about halfway back to the prison door when he saw Carol exiting. Alone. Something didn’t sit right. “Hey!” He called out, waiting for her to find him when she began looking around.

“Hey, yourself!” She shouted back.

“Y/N with ya?”

“I thought she was with you.”

Fuck. Carol’s expression mirrored his own, communicating without speaking as they often did. “I’ll check the cells.”

“I’ll check the towers.”

Daryl hated running. It was all he had done since the world ended. He ran for his life or someone else’s. The latter only amounted to anything half the time. “Y/N!” He yelled the minute he stepped foot inside the prison walls.

Beth stepped up to the cellblock door with baby Judith in tow. “What’s the matter?”

“Y/N been in there?” He asked breathlessly.

“I haven’t seen her. She doesn’t spend a lot of— Daryl! What’s going on?” The young blonde yelled at his retreating form.

He didn’t answer, didn’t even stop when he snatched up his crossbow and sprinted back outside. If you had gone beyond the fence, you were as good as dead if he couldn’t get to you in time. Carol had forbidden you to enter the tombs. Surely you wouldn’t have. Would you?

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the door. Either scenario would mean death if he didn’t act quickly. The thought alone left a hollow ache in his chest that he was too panicked to give any attention.

You stood less of a chance in the tombs. He would start there and pray to some deity that he made the right call. His fingers had hardly brushed the door when his keen hearing picked up a sound. A shout. Daryl froze, tilting his head to listen. There was no other noise but his gut told him he needed to go investigate.

He kept his steps light but quick, crossbow loaded and ready to aim. The closer he got to the opening in the outer wall, he could hear voices. Two males.

“Don’t fuck it up too much, man.”

“Looks like someone already did that.”

Daryl’s back was pressed to the wall, about to lean around the corner for a look. The voices belonged to two men that had been allowed in that very day. Lonny and Marvin. He hadn’t felt right about them but Rick vouched for them along with the rest of the group. They could be engaged in innocent conversation, but something about the whole thing was making the archer’s teeth itch. As discreetly as possible, he peered around.

In a span of mere seconds, Daryl went through an onslaught of three intense emotions. Firstly, he was in shock. You were facedown on the concrete, blood pooled around a portion of your head while your nails scratched at the concrete. Then came the guilt. There was the smallest whimper accompanied by an utterance of ‘ow’ that made his eyes sting. Lastly, came the anger. No, it was fury. The men had ripped off the clothing from your lower half. Marvin had a hand pressed hard into the middle of your back while his other hand moved aggressively between your legs. Lonny stood just behind him, stroking his cock with the most vile expression Daryl had ever witnessed.

He didn’t hesitate to step around, crossbow level with his eyes. The weapon trembled in his grip. His blood was boiling just underneath his skin. “Ya got less than one goddamn second ta move away from her ‘fore I put a bolt in yer brain.” The low growl of his tone added intent to an already very clear threat.

Lonny moved first, releasing his dick to put his hands in the air and step back a few paces. Marvin hadn’t moved, actually smirking at Daryl. The archer gritted his teeth, really really restraining himself.

“Daryl.”

It was the tiniest whisper of a breath and the anger disappeared in an instant, his expression shifting, softening. “M’here.”

“This here your pussy, man?” Marvin’s arm moved, bringing three blood-coated fingers to his lips. “I mean, maybe we could work something out and sha—”

The bolt pierced through the side of his middle finger, into his mouth, and out through his cheek. The screams were bound to bring reinforcements, not that Daryl needed them. His blue eyes shifted to Lonny. The man hadn’t moved and continued standing stock still while another bolt was loaded.

“Ya got any propositions fer me, asshole, cause yer givin’ me a helluva target.”

Lonny shook his head vigorously.

Daryl glanced down, wanting nothing more than to run to your side but he couldn’t let his guard down. Not yet.

“Both’a ya, back the fuck up.” The archer stepped forward and Lonny stepped back while Marvin continued to scream.

“Oo choht ee ehn uh ouhth!” He attempted to complain while using the hand that wasn’t bolted to his jaw to clamber to his feet. Daryl took another step forward.

“I said BACK!” He roared. His patience was wearing thin. Marvin finally reacted and stumbled away.

“Daryl!” Carol called from just around the corner.

With help so close, Daryl abandoned the crossbow and dropped down beside you, stripping off his vest to at least provide a little coverage for you.

“Hey, ya with me?” He placed his hand on your back as gently as possible, bending forward so you could see him without the need to move. Carol, Rick, and others had arrived and were handling the men but the archer was paying them no mind. The moment your eyes blinked open, you were his sole focus.

“I… I…” You attempted before your face contorted in pain.

“Need ta getcha inside. Getcha ta Hershel.” He was trembling again, anger threatening to resurface amidst all raised voices. Keeping his hand on your back, his wild gaze searched out Rick in the flood of people. “Get ‘em the fuck outta here!”

“Hey, hey. Calm down.” Carol kneeled on your other side, sweeping your hair away from your face. It took Daryl a moment to realize she was talking to him. He nodded, gaze back on you. You hadn’t moved but your eyes remained open. “I’m gonna get a blanket.”

The archer nodded again, leaning back down after she had gone. “Yer gon’ be fine. Yer safe.” A broken sob escaped from your lips, the sound ensnaring his heart and squeezing. You moved as if you were going to push yourself up, sending Daryl into a panic. “No, don’. Stay still. M’a getcha there. Jus’ another minute.” You didn’t respond but the quiver of your lip told him you were still conscious.

The hunter heard the pounding of Carol’s boots well before she appeared with an off white sheet. His vest was tossed aside, giving him the briefest look at the blood smeared on your inner thighs. He knew then that he would murder someone that day. But you came first.

“Roll her this way.” Carol instructed, helping him move you into a position from which he could easily lift you. “Easy, easy.”

You gasped and whimpered and tried to curl in on yourself. It was all Daryl could do to keep you still. Once you were on your side, Carol brushed your hair back again. You flinched at her touch.

“You…you promised.”

His friend looked as if you’d punched her in the gut, a hand flying to her mouth; her eyes heavy with gathering tears. “Get her to Hershel.” She commanded softly.

Daryl slipped an arm under the curve of your neck and slid down to your shoulders while his other maneuvered under and around your thighs. When he lifted you, a broken cry worked its way from your throat. He was left cradling you awkwardly but you were shielded by the blanket and he could make the position work in order to get you inside. His feet were moving before his brain even registered he’d given the order.

“Daryl.” You whimpered. Your fingers, with their broken and bleeding nails, curled into the front of his shirt. “Hur…hurts.”

“I know.” He didn’t know how to reassure you; how to make this better. Carol had promised you a better life there. He had brought you there under the same assumption. If he was honest with himself, he took you out of the frying pan and tossed you right into the fire. His pace continued to increase only to slow when you’d start to cry harder. “Jus’ a lil’ further.” Was that for you or himself? He didn’t know.

When Carol caught up, she didn’t touch you. Daryl knew it wasn’t out of anger or cruelty. She felt as if she had failed you. He knew that because he knew her better than anyone.

He knew that because he had failed you too.

Daryl sat on his mattress, legs outstretched and arms lying limply in his lap. It had been hours since he’d found you. He’d taken you to Hershel and was quickly ushered out due to the location of your injuries. Carol had remained, although unsure if you even wanted her there.

The archer, with nowhere to release his guilt and anger, had headed straight for the cell where he knew Lonny and Marvin would be kept. Rick had temporarily taken his keys after the former sheriff and Glenn had finally managed to drag Daryl off of both men.

At least he had retrieved his bolt from Marvin’s face. It was now lying on the floor below his feet.

He was told to stay back when Carol had come from the medical cell and a decision was made on the fate of the two bastards. They counted his vote which was just shy of flaying them open and tossing vital organs over the fence. He had wanted to ask about you but there was no time. Everyone wanted the issue dealt with and the perpetrators out of the prison, one way or another.

In the end, they were stripped of their clothing and put outside the fence. Carol wanted them to suffer as you had suffered. Rick had disagreed but was outvoted.

Lonny and Marvin would now be two more walkers snarling at the fence.

It wasn’t enough, in Daryl’s opinion. He would have tortured them, willingly chipped away at his humanity to hear them scream; to watch them writhe and see them bleed. Regardless, the anger had given way to all encompassing guilt. He wanted to blame Rick for bringing the assholes in based on the answers to three questions that anyone could respond to with a lie. But he couldn’t.

He was the sole reason you were even there at the prison. He had gone against Rick and traded valuable assets to free you. He’d never know what would have been the better option for you. Still…

He selfishly wanted you to stay.

It would never be worth the risk of your wellbeing to explore the urges he had been feeling. He’d never put you in that position; subject you to that confusion. He just wanted you to stay for reasons he couldn’t even grasp himself. What was wrong with him? He didn’t do emotions. It was always easier to remain closed off.

Footsteps echoed from the bottom of the stairs. Carol. Daryl pulled himself from his defeatism, only to see your blood dried on his arms; his busted up knuckles.

“Hey.” He didn’t look up. “Brought your vest and crossbow.”

He still didn’t acknowledge her. He wasn’t angry with her in the slightest. He just didn’t know how to verbalize all he was feeling. He didn’t want to. So, when the mattress dipped beside him, he sighed.

“Hershel says she’ll be okay. There were…lacerations that will take some time to heal. And she has a nasty concussion.” Carol fiddled with the hem of her shirt for distraction, allowing silence to permeate the room. “She won’t talk.”

Daryl scoffed. “She thinks ya broke a promise.”

“No.” She countered. “She won’t talk to anyone. Just lays there and stares at the wall.”

He hated how that image settled in his chest, causing an unfamiliar ache. How could Hershel say she’d be alright when she had been subjected to behaviors straight out of the hell from which he’d taken her. He couldn’t do more than hum in reply.

“You like her, don’t you?”

“Nah.” He lied. “Jus’ wanted her ta be safe.” That much was true, at least.

“I’d like to think I know you better than anyone.” Carol whispered sadly. “And everything in me says that you like that girl.”

“Wha’s it matter?” He would usually snap at her, but he didn’t have the energy; lacked the bite. The memory of you lying there, broken, had stripped all that away.

“It matters.” She squeezed his shoulder and stood, dragging her feet toward the stairs where she paused. “You should go see her.”

“I ain’t what she needs righ’ now.” Or ever.

It was her turn to hum. “Maybe you’re exactly what she needs.”

He listened to her steps fade the further she walked. Carol did know him better than anyone, but that didn’t make what she knew right. He needed to stay away, for your sake and his own.

So why did he find himself taking a shower to scrub away the blood you didn’t need to see? Why did he walk to the medical cell? And why was he standing in the doorway, staring at your back?

Now that he was there, he had no idea what he was supposed to say. ‘Hey, sorry ‘bout those two dickheads that took advantage of ya’? Eventually, he chose just to seat himself in the chair behind you and remain silent. He couldn’t be certain if you even knew he was there.

You looked so small on that table, the thin blanket pulled up to your shoulders. The sheet he had wrapped you in was wadded up in the corner, the crimson splotches scattered like a grizzly design. Daryl’s hands curled into fists. He wished he could have watched the walkers tear into those two depraved assholes.

He remained that way— a coiled spring of anger and self-loathing —until you stirred. It was the slightest shift accompanied by a nearly inaudible mewl. The archer straightened his spine but otherwise remained still. He still couldn’t understand why he was there; couldn’t even attempt to sort through the sentiments stirring inside. They were slowly consuming him, confounding and confusing in their ambush. All he knew was that you were there, breathing and heart beating, and the sight of you provoked the overwhelming emotions. They threatened to swallow him whole. He’d gladly allow them if it meant he’d gain understanding.

You shifted again, turning your head slowly to peer at him with tired eyes from over your shoulder. Daryl felt his lungs attempt to freeze while his pulse fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings. Carol had said you refused to speak. He wasn’t refusing. He simply couldn’t. He settled with offering a slow nod.

His breath stuttered when you responded— not verbally —but with a small smile. It didn’t meet your eyes, but it was new and not unwelcome. His fingers dug into the arms of the chair, knuckles white. He wanted to run. This wasn’t him. For Rick, for Carol, he’d do this. He’d stay. They had become friends. No. They had become family. You? You were different. You weren’t an enemy. You weren’t really a friend. You were a stranger, a newcomer. Yet somehow, you had managed to slither your way right under his skin.

That was terrifying. He’d rather be thrown into a pit of walkers with only a toothpick to protect himself than deal with matters of the heart. He was out of his depth, alone in unfamiliar territory. And at that point, it was sink or swim.

Daryl cleared his throat. “How, uh, how ya doin’?” He managed to relax enough to free the chair from the death grip. The corners of your mouth turned down, your eyes beginning to shine with moisture as you looked away. The archer didn’t know how to interpret that. “I should go.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, finding himself hesitant to leave you alone. But it was for the best. He shouldn’t have come in the first place. He wasn’t sure what else to say. The silence made him feel even more awkward.

Hands on the wooden chair arms, he pushed himself up to stand. Grunting was apparently Daryl-speak for ‘goodnight’ or ‘feel better’ but that’s what he went with. It never failed him before. Quick to turn his back, he made it two whole steps.

“Daryl?”

The archer’s eyes closed, a curse sitting on the tip of his tongue. Of course he’d be the one you chose to talk to. Dixon luck at its finest. He turned his head toward his left shoulder, purposefully keeping his eyes on the floor.

“Stay?” Your request came softly, but powerful enough to shatter any resolve he had managed to muster within his inner battlefield. Daryl found himself easily turning back to you, taking back those two steps, and lowering into the chair.

“Okay.”

Taglist:

@royaltysuite @thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @deansapplepie @feral4daryl @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @1ivinqdeadqir1main @loganlostitall @callmeyn @lilyevanstan1325 @the-lonely-abyss @gutsby @eljaynosine_triphosphate @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @bananafire11 @hutchersonsgurl @the-milk-is-rotten @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @richardsamboramylove55 @annhells @abi67sblog @nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @daryldixmedown @willowaftxn83-87 @atyourmomshouse01 @bultamer @mia051 @memphiscity69 @flowerspetalsthorns @riya12044 @ariacraigggg @morgan556 @carley12041 @timeladyrikaofgallifrey @twdislifee @bae-live-0 @elbellmam @aleemendoza2425-blog @randomhoe @ren9sstuff @pandarooooo-blog @let-love-bleeds-red

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

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Butterfly II

a/n some of you wanted a part two of this so here we go. This can be read as a standalone. I am just a tiny bit obsessed with this. Thank you for so much love, I really wasn't expecting it. 🤍

summary: When Joel thinks that his life is over his little butterfly sends him a new reason to stay alive. The only problem is that he doesn't know how to love but when you are the meaning of love itself how can he not fall.

Part III is on my blog!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It almost felt like you were floating. The warmth and soft sheets surrounded your body, and the mattress beneath you was an absolute dream in comparison to a makeshift box bed or the sleeping bag on the ground. Maybe this was a dream after all? Considering that you could almost make out the birds chirping outside. The bright morning sun hit your face through the crack in the messily closed blinds. The ray of light leaves warm kisses on your skin. When was the last time you felt so at peace? Without the primal urge to survive rushing through your body.

You tried to tilt your head to the side, hoping to escape the beaming light but found no luck there. Lazily opening one eye, you took in the room in front of you. A frown washed over your face. You did not remember getting up to the bedroom last night. Had you been that tired? Your leg nudged something on the other side of the bed, and you instantly shot up as the fight or flight mode went off. Heart racing.

"Easy, easy… You're okay, everything's okay", Joel's groggy morning voice filled your ears, and your shoulders slumped in the instant. As you took a breath in, your hand came to rest on your chest. Joel's fingers slipped to run up and down your exposed thigh as he tried to soothe the rush of anxiety that he felt seeping through you. His eyes were still closed; the sun was dancing on his exposed chest now. Yeah, maybe you were dreaming.

"Bad dream?", he mumbled again, pulling you out of your little daydream. You shook your head even if you knew he couldn't see it, "No, I just didn't expect you…here", "You act like we haven't shared a bed". You let out a huff, pushing his rough palm off your leg. The corner of Joel's lips turned upward. "It's not about that, it's just a… I usually know that we will be in bed together here, so I figured you might… never mind," you muttered quickly.

Back in QZ, where you shared an apartment with one bed, sleeping in it together was a no-brainer. Well, Joel had given up his bed to you first, moving to sleep on the sofa instead. However, he did not spend a single night there. The guilt of him getting a bad back because of you made you drag him to bed in the middle of the night. It was a blanket line at first that split the bed, but even that didn't stick around for long as you found yourself waking up with your fingers reaching out for Joel or clenching his shirt in your sleep. Maybe simply seeking comfort, maybe out of sheer fear of waking up alone.

"Lay down and stop thinking so loudly," Joel's hands pulled you closer to him, and you let him as you rested your head on his chest. Fingers instantly reached up to run over the lines of scars that covered his body. In the beginning, he would catch your wrist with his hand, pushing it away from his skin, but now… Now he said and did nothing to stop you, allowing you to do your thing.

"Did you bring me here last night?", you questioned quietly, feeling bad for disturbing his slumber. Joel only hummed, "You fell asleep on the sofa." You remembered watching Ellie flip through the books you had found in the attic. Cup of tea by her side that you made her in hopes of making her nighttime anxiety ease up. You watched her with a fond smile on your face. Truly, there was nothing more beautiful than seeing a child experience something new, and Ellie, just like all the other kids, was robbed of a normal childhood. So you were more than happy to bring at least a drop of normality to her. Your head was resting on Joel's shoulder as he, too, sipped the tea you had made.

"This shit is nasty, why would you write a book about dating?", Ellie turned a romantic novel in her hands, making you let out a tired chuckle. "Eh, that was one of my favorites. Wait till you get to my age. Fictional men are like no other", you snorted, just managing to hear Joel do the same as he brought the cup closer to his lips again. Looking up, you already find him glancing down at you.

"No way, Bill had comic books?!", the girl shrieked, making you jump slightly at the loud noise as she pushed the box over, making everything spill all over the carpet. Joel squeezed your shoulder slightly, "Lay down." He patted the pillow that was on his lap, but you shook your head, "Not tired. Don't worry". But the man wasn't having any of it and gently moved you to lie down. You tried to protest at first, but Joel only silenced you as he started running his hand through your hair. That was when you realized just how insanely tired you were. Your hand squeezed his thigh, a silent thank you as you felt your eyes getting heavy.

Joel's eyes stayed on you. Watching as sleep took over your body. How you lost the fight to slumber, and your body slowly eased up You twitched a couple of times. A usual practice for you that Joel had grown familiar with. You, just like him, had nightmares clouding your brain. And your body hated the sensation of sleeping, trying to fight off the state of unconsciousness for as long as possible. No one could protect you in your dreams. Not even Joel - even if he wanted to.

"You like her," Ellie said, causing Joel to raise his head. He had somehow forgotten that she was here too, lulled by your somewhat peaceful features. He wouldn't have let his guard down so low otherwise. This side of him was only for his own eyes and no one else's. His face instantly shifted to a tight smile, replacing the calm features. "Don't shove your nose into other people's business," he said bitterly, hoping that Ellie would feel ashamed and drop her gaze, but she didn't. "But you do. I can see it", "What do you know about it, kid", Joel bite back harshly, but you had shifted on his thigh as if even in your sleep sending him a warning to watch his tone. The girl shrugged her shoulders, "Not much, but you always watch her, and it's kind of creepy, but also she does the same, so", Ellie trailed off, returning to making piles of the books instead. Joel wanted to snarl something out, but it was true. He was always watching over you. And he loved nothing more than catching your gaze, taking you off guard at times.

"Go to bed, it's late", Joel said, carefully shifting to scoop you up in his arms, "I'm not tired", Ellie voiced, and Joel only inhaled sharply, "That's what Y/N said as well, look at her now". Ellie watched as you clung to Joel, even in your sleep. She watched as he walked towards the stairs, once again shushing you as you muttered something in your sleep. She followed you up to her room, which was a door away from the one Joel carried you to. You had asked her if she wanted to have a room all to herself for a couple of days that you were here. Since she had never had the pleasure of it, she of course agreed to it. But now that Ellie looked at the dark space in front of her, she realized how much more she preferred being able to press herself closer to you as you slept in the sleeping bag.

Joel had walked out not even ten minutes later after he was sure that you were sleeping and comfortable. Ellie was standing in front of her bedroom door, staring into the distance. "Why aren't you in bed yet?", Joel called out, making her jump. "It's dark," she muttered under her breath. The distress in her body language was visible. "Well, it's nighttime, so of course, it's dark," Joel said, waiting for her to come at him, but she just tightened her hands into fists. He often thought that this was unfair. That Ellie had to go through so much at such a young age. He understood why you grew so protective of her and why Ellie clung to you at any moment that her ability, to pretend that she feared nothing at all, failed her. Joel let out a sigh as he walked into the dark room, quickly finding a light switch before moving towards the bedside table. Ellie watched him from the hallway still. She watched how Joel pulled the table to the furthest corner of the room, before putting a lamp into it. It was far enough away to not disturb sleep, but bright enough to illuminate every corner of the room.

"Jump into bed, Ellie," Joel said calmly, and Ellie almost thought that she was imagining the soft sound. Well, she heard it when Joel talked to you. His tone was barely bitter then, but… She nodded her head as she rushed to get under the covers. She expected to watch Joel leave, but instead, he walked toward the bed before sitting down at the end of it. "Go to sleep," Joel repeated, "But why… what are you doing?", the girl croaked out, trying not to let the stinging in her eyes show. Just like Joel, she hid her emotions behind the wall. Only slip-ups happened when she was with you. "You have nothing to fear. I'll be here till you fall asleep, and then Y/N and I are a door away," Joel said, watching as Ellie looked around the room. A glimpse of Sarah filled his mind. She nodded her head, but the tension didn't leave her body as she clenched the blanket in her hands. Joel wasn't sure who or what made him do it, but he moved closer to Ellie. The memories of him introducing Sarah to her new room and how she hated it the first night swirled around.

"Want to… want to hold my hand?", it felt weird saying it, and Joel even got embarrassed, but then he sensed Ellie shifting as she clung to him. Joel's gaze softened when he saw a tear glistening in the dim light on her cheek. "You're safe here. We will always keep you safe, kiddo." And he stayed there till she fell asleep, and then some more. Watching her or just zoning out as he thought about Sarah. The same way he shushed you as you spoke in your sleep, Joel shushed Ellie. Guiding her out of her bad dreams and into a peaceful slumber.

When he finally slipped out of Ellie's room and went to check on you, Joel knew that he wasn't going to find sleep anytime soon. After pulling the blanket further up your shoulder, Joel moved towards the window, quickly checking if it was tightly shut. Then the same thing happened in Ellie's room. He walked all around the second floor, checking the doors and windows, before moving downstairs and doing the same. That's why a man like you and I are here. Joel could still hear Ellie's voice as she read out Bill's letter. We have a job to do, and God help any motherfucker who stands in our way.

The feeling of your fingers scratching Joel's scalp brought him back to the sunny room, and he finally opened his eyes. "Was she okay sleeping without us?", you moved up, pushing yourself against Joel's chest, and he shook his head, already hating the worried look that washed over you. "I stayed with her till she fell asleep and checked on her through the night," he said so casually as if it were a self-explanatory thing, but his words made your heart clench. You knew how difficult such interactions were for him, how many demons from his past he had to choke out for that to become a reality.

You leaned in, brushing your nose against his before wrapping your hands around his neck. Joel's arms sneaked around your waist, fingertips moving just slightly under the big shirt you were wearing. "You know that she will never forget that, right?", you muttered into the crook of his neck. "Thank you for doing that", "I wasn't going to leave her all alone," Joel said firmly, and you pulled away slightly. Of course, he wasn't. Because he cared. Cared more than he wanted to admit it, and even more than he knew himself. You two were inches apart. You could feel his breath on your skin. Warm and inviting. This felt intimate, not like most of the sexual interactions you two shared, which were mostly there to get rid of the primal needs.

You moved to slip off Joel's chest, but his grip on your hips only tightened. "Joel..", you breathed out. Fuck, did he love hearing his name roll off your tongue. There was always this beam of light with love in it. It didn't sound as harsh or scary as it did when others said it. No, when you said Joel's name, he knew there was nothing but happiness there. And you proved just that when a soft chuckle slipped past your lips, and you leaned back toward him. "I just want to make your coffee," you said as you twirled your figures through his hair, hoping to reason with him to let you go. "We can go if you want a cup," but you shook your head, pointing a finger to his chest, "You will stay in bed, sir, and let me bring it up for you."

The only person who had done this before—brought him coffee, even if it was with a scrunched-up nose—had been Sarah. The gleam in your eyes made it hard for him to say no. So he did what he had been doing for years. Joel let go of you, watching as you quickly shimmied out of bed. He hated that this felt natural. This felt right. He fucking wanted to start his days like this. Even more so, he knew that this was temporary. A day or two and you would be out in the wilderness, where at any moment a runner or a clicker could get either of you infected. Joel wished you could just stay here. Forget about all the other promises and just stay here in this surreal reality.

Seeing you with a cup of coffee in your hand and messy hair falling everywhere, even if you tried to control them with a quick braid and that smile, made Joel's head spin. That smile had dampened him and left him defenseless. "Careful, it's really hot", you handed Joel a cup as he sat down, resting his back against the headboard. "Did you sleep at all?", you spoke up again, crisscrossing your legs as you looked up at Joel, all of a sudden noticing his tired eyes. He slowly nodded his head, yet you could tell that he was elsewhere.

You were about to nudge him about staying in bed all day and finally getting proper rest when you heard a silent knock on the door before it cracked open, and you saw Ellie standing there. Still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, you smiled at her, patting the side of the bed. Her eyes drifted to Joel, but since he paid her no attention, she stepped inside. Curling up on your lap like a cat in front of the sun on the windowsill. "Morning, sleepyhead, did you rest well?", you pushed some of the messy strands of hair away from her face as she flashed you a smile, yet her eyes were still closed.

You pulled your blanket over her body, slowly tracing your hand up and down her back, and almost immediately you heard light snoring. Raising your eyebrows, you looked toward Joel, "She fell asleep again." You giggled, carefully swaying from side to side with her in your embrace. Joel's eyes fell on you, but they were nothing like they were moments ago. You reached your hand out to touch him, but he quickly got out of bed. "Get to the garage when she's up; we need to talk about the next step." You frowned slightly, unsure of what this was about, but still nodded your head.

Joel sat by the table, his chin resting on his knuckles as he stared ahead. His brain was racing. This was all too good. Too much. He was losing his clear mind. Tiredness—it was all because of tiredness, he told himself as he waited for you two. That's why a man like you and I are here. Joel needed to remind himself of his main job here. To remind himself of what had happened before. What had happened to Sarah. Joel heard you two before you opened the door. Ellie was talking so quickly that you were probably laughing at her, yet it died down the moment you stepped into the garage.

Joel met your confused eyes but dropped the gaze in an instant. "I think it's best if we leave tomorrow morning," he spoke up coldly. No reason's why. Or what had changed. Just a plain, cold statement. "What?", you choked out, walking closer to him. "It's best if we keep moving," Joel insisted again.

This was not what you imagined hearing this morning. Even more so when the morning started so sweet. "Where is this coming from? I thought we were going to stay here for a couple of days," you questioned again, feeling Ellie's hand slip into yours. "We're getting too comfortable; the word behind the fence is nothing like this," Joel grumbled angrily, not meeting your eyes for even a second. That in itself was starting to annoy you.

"Joel… we talked about this. We stay for a couple of days, regain our strength, all of us, and then…", but a harsh slam on the metal table made you stop mid-sentence. "Then what?", Joel spat, "What, Y/N? You're getting too attached. This is not our reality. We're wasting time to deliver cargo." Joel's words left you defenseless as you stared at him, not quite. believing your ears. You knew that he could be an ass at times, but this.

"Shit," Ellie cursed under her breath, and you instantly pushed her behind you. "Right, because she is nothing to you. Because you're this cold and fucked up male", you spat back, as nodded your head, "It blows my mind the way you dispose of people…". Laughing under your breath, you tried to find words to say. Still in disbelief that he was changing the plan for selfish reasons. Just because he didn't do happy.

"Fuck you, Miller. I've been trying so hard, but you know what? Fuck it. Get us there and fuck off!", the sound of your voice made Joel clench his jaw. He would have much more enjoyed you screaming than hearing the disappointment that poured from you. Joel looked up at you, but now you seemed miles away. Had he finally done it? Finally made you give up on him. "Yn," he called out quietly, but you only shook your head, "Don't you Y/N me. Come Ellie bug, let's get our stuff", you turned to Ellie, who was standing behind a woodworking table. All way pressed up against the corner like a lost puppy.

"Don't," Joel caught your hand as it reached for the girl, but you yanked it away from his grasp in an instant. Your eyes filled up with tears, but you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to pull yourself together. You'll cry later. In the shower, maybe. Behind the house. Anywhere but in front of him. You reached Ellie, bringing her into your embrace, as you guided her toward the door. You were about to step out when you stopped and turned to Joel one last time, mumbling, "There's no us, by the way. You're alone in this Miller", with that you pushed the door closed harshly, making your way towards the house as you dabbed your cheeks dry so Ellie wouldn't worry even more. Butterflies weren't meant to live a long time. Maybe it's better to live from sunrise to sunset and die before the world beats you down without any mercy.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader

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thegreengnome · 8 months

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Can you please write a fic where a lord tries to win over Aemond’s betrothed because he thinks nobody would want someone like Aemond but she immediately rejects him and tells him that she owes Aemond which he overhears.

Fandom – House of the Dragon

Word Count - 626

Pairing – Aemond Targaryen X Reader

Warnings – Very oc Aemond Targaryen

NOTE- I hope this is okay! I'm sorry if Aemond is very occ but i do think given the chance of 'love' he would act very different then we have previous seen from him.

Aemond is a Targaryen prince, a member of the royal family, and a dragon rider. He knew he was better than most in this room yet he could not help but twitch in agitation at the sight Infront of him.

Y/N L/N glided beautifully around the grand hall. Her hair floated after her in an almost halo effect. She truly looked ethereal. The man Infront of her on the other hand looked like he could be Vhagar's next meal.

Aemond's betrothed had only been at court for two moons but Aemond already knew she was his, and his alone.

During their first meeting his lady did not flinch nor gasp at the sight of his face as most ladies of the court had done. No, she had curtsied and smiled prettily up at him. Earnest in her chance to get to know her future husband.

He often found her waiting for him in the great library. The maester acting as a chaperone to the unmarried pair. Y/N would bring her recommendations to him expressing her interest in her latest find while he quietly observed her.

The way her fingers would follow along with the words, gently touching the pages so not to damage them. Her mouth quirking ever so slightly at an amusing or befuddling line, turning the page towards him to share in her merriment.

He had truly never felt so content before. His entire life had been built around duty and honour and this marriage was just another part of his duty. At least at first. He had known what it felt to be feared, loathed, and even hated but never loved. Perhaps he should feel love from his family – his mother at least but he knew all she felt for him was guilt. Guilt at the loss of his eye, at the lack of a loving father. He was the result of duty, much like he assumed his own children would be.

But with Y/N he felt seen. Nothing scandalous had happened between the two. Every interaction perfectly innocent.

“I’m surprised brother” the strong scent of ale and wine hit him as his older brother Aegon leaned his head down “if my women danced with another then that person that dared touch her would no longer have hands”

Aegon rarely said anything of interest to Aemond. He preferred to pretend his brother was not around, it was easier than dealing with him. But for once in his life Aegon made a point.

Ignoring the satisfied smirk on his brother’s face Aemond excused himself from the table. Approaching the dancing pair, the conversation between them became clear.

“I could give you everything he cannot” The man was lucky they were in polite company, or Infront of his mother.

Y/N abruptly stopped her movement. Her partner stumbling awkwardly to keep up. Muttering apologises to the remaining couples.

Removing herself from the embrace, Y/N moves back a polite smile on her lips. “I very much doubt that my lord” curtsying slightly Y/N leaves the startled man behind as he splutters in indignation.

Aemond had never felt like this before. This pure unadulterated joy. He started the man down as he passes. Making his way to his betrothed who had found a nearby servant no doubt to notify the royal family of her departure.

“My lady” said lady spun quickly, a hand clutched to her chest.

“My prince. You startled me” Giving the lady an apologetic smile he takes her hand in his own. Bringing it up to his lips, he gives it a quick kiss amusing himself with the blush spreading across her face.

“Would you like to dance?”

The smile he was given in response would remain in his head for some time “Of course my prince”

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond one eye #aemond fanfic

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vegaseatsass · 1 month

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So the way I assume at least some number of people felt about Pit Babe ("not sure this is hanging together narratively, but OMG THIS SHIT IS CRAZY! I HAVE TO GO TELL TUMBLR!") is the way I feel about Blank the Series. Well, I was right that the younger Nueng (who I will call Anueng) is named after the older Nueng (who I will call Nueng), because Anueng's mother was in love with Nueng. HOWEVER! Fah named her daughter after Nueng as an act of SPITE. Nueng didn't reciprocate her affections, so Fah ended up fucking Nueng's fiance - maybe as a way to feel close to her unrequited love ?? - and getting pregnant at age 16. Nueng encouraged her to abort the child for the sake of her future. So 20 years later, Fah tells Nueng YES I named my daughter after you: because you RUINED MY LIFE! By 1) breaking my heart when we were kids 2) almost causing me to miscarry my daughter, whom you are now in love with!!!! So both of Anueng's parents were and probably are in unrequited love with Nueng. They produced a baby who has decided her only mission in life is to get with this older woman... who both her parents are/were in love with. Now if that is not enough melodrama for you, Nueng left her fiance at the altar but he is still like, into her and likes hanging out with her. As soon as she told him he's Anueng's father he wanted to become a part of his daughter's life. So Nueng becomes like the gatekeeper of time with Anueng. Fah is like "help me bond with my estranged daughter (who wants to fuck you just like I do)". Chet, the father, is like "will you allow me to see my daughter (who wants to fuck you just like I do)?" as if it's Nueng's call... So in response to the epic guilt Nueng's feeling about Anueng's almost-miscarriage (it wasn't actually her fault btw, Fah is lying to chain Nueng to her out of guilt), Nueng arranges an amusement park date between her two exes, their daughter, and a guy who likes their daughter, even though the daughter in question only wants to be there with Nueng. There's one hilarious scene where Nueng tries to set both mother and daughter up on an age appropriate heterosexual date through a haunted house while she fades into the background, and they both rush through while the men jump and gasp in fear, because the women only want to get back to Nueng waiting outside. I just don't think I can express how weird this is. Nueng sets up a birthday party for the girl who has been professing her love for her since they met, where all the attendees are intended to help Anueng move on from her, but there is NO distinction between "people who can parent you instead of me" and "person who wants to fuck you instead of me". Nueng makes a sincere comment about how easy it is to fall in love with Anueng, TO HER FATHER. Anueng's MOTHER is jealous that her daughter likes Nueng better than her. It's just all sooooooooooo fucking weird and psychosexual. 20yo Anueng's babyishness remains incredibly offputting to me, but my friend has pointed out she only does that when she's around Nueng, so it's very obviously a performance. When she's around literally anyone else she kind of just looks like she's dissociating 24/7. Plus her abusive grandmother has kept her so sheltered and isolated and abused that it's not surprising she doesn't really know how to socialize authentically. So even if it's not my bag I'm like, narratively compelled by whatever the actual fuck is going on in this GL. And did I mention: Mon and Sam are there, too!!!! There's a whole plotline where Anueng is jealous of Sam because she thinks Nueng and Sam are girlfriends. When she finds out they're actually sisters (and she double-checks onscreen: ACTUAL, biological sisters? This isn't a pseudocest situation?), she's like oh! So you like beautiful rich women! All I have to do is replace your sister by becoming a beautiful rich woman myself!!!

#i don't actually expect anybody to read this but i had to expel it from my brain #i am truly stunned by what's happening in this television series #YES I NAMED MY DAUGHTER AFTER YOU... BECAUSE YOU RUINED MY LIFE!!!!#anywayyyyy will you help me bond with my daughter since she likes you more than me now?#what is even happening #blank the series #dear diary

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zentraex · 6 months

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Remember: German is a lot different than English. I apologize for any mistakes.

Yandere: Izuku, Katsuki, Shoto

Trigger Warnings: mention of Torture, guilt tripping, kidnapping, yandere

The Escape-Experience!

It's been years since you were kidnapped by him.

You thought he was a good person, a hero, an angel himself.

You had this impression of him all your school lifelong.

Then you woke up, chained.

Of course

There are no people who are entirely good. Fate showed it to you again in the most painful way.

Deku was a bad person, a villain, a monster himself.

For years, he has given you a false image of him.

But I can do that too

Usually, you defeat your opponent with their own weapon. That's exactly what you did with him.

For years, you've given him a false image of yourself.

You did everything he wanted. After all, it doesn't take much to be a perfect housewife.

Reality hits him hard when he comes home after a long mission and finds an empty house in front of him.

Someone kidnapped you!

It doesn't even occur to him that you might have left him. You love him as much as he loves you! Why would you even think of that? So, why would he?

It's been years since he felt such a thirst for blood, while being without you.

He wouldn’t simply kill your kidnapper… He would torture him to death!

Non-stop, without sleep, he searches for you.

It was a coincidence that he found you under a bridge.

"Reader!"

He doesn't see the horror on your face, doesn't take the time to think about why your kidnapper isn't with you. He's just happy to have you in his arms again, to bring you home and go on living your life in peace. He won’t punish you, chains you up or anything else. Why should he? It’s not your fault you were kidnapped.

However, you won't be able to escape a second time.

After all, we don't want anyone to kidnap you again, do we?

You should have been called stupid for even thinking of fleeing.

We're talking about Katsuki Bakugou: King Explosion Murderer.

The probability that you will manage to escape at all is almost zero percent. He didn't chain you anywhere, but the security system is higher than in any other house in Japan.

So, imagine how surprised he was when he entered the home and you were no longer there.

He knew you didn't really love him. He knew that his love was sick. He knew that what he was doing was not right.

It was clear from the beginning that at some point you would try to escape. That's why he took such precautions. So...

How did you do it?

Bakugou may seem strong and cold all the time, but deep down he is very vulnerable. That's why he's standing there, hurt, but also a little panicked.

Where did you go?

How far are you ahead?

Will he ever find you again?

What if he can't find you anymore?

Life without you is impossible!

However, it doesn't take too long for him to find you.

He knows you, has studied your thoughts, and stalked your behavior.

Before you know where you want to go next, he's already there.

You have lost the freedom to move around the house. At least for now.

After all, life without you is impossible. So why would he risk it again?

Shoto is not a bad person. All he wants is a little love, which he never really got to experience as a child. It would never have come to his mind that he would lock you up in his house, he doesn't want to do anything that could upset you, after all.

But the first time your life was in danger and Shoto sat powerless next to your hospital bed, he acted out of fear.

He can't lose you! The love you give him is making him feel complete!

What would he be without it?

Nothing.

So, he kidnapped you as soon as you were released from the hospital. No security system, no cameras, nothing.

He could never dream of doing something like that to you.

That's why it was so easy for you to escape.

But fate is cruel, so, you ran right into him.

When he got home, tears streamed through his face.

"I'm sorry, Reader. I just can't lose you!"

"I'm just so scared!"

"Please don't be mad! I love you so much!"

Seeing Shoto crying like that would break everyone's heart. So, you pull him into your embrace. It's so warm...

That it makes it even more difficult for him to force tears...

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animeficsworld · 7 months

Text

Loveable

Levi Ackerman x Reader

----

Levi is a grumpy man. A grumpy old man.

There is no denying it.

He was never a fan of people and people tend to avoid him.

That is, until he met you.

Never before in his life did he consider having a partner. Never in his life he expected himself to end up in love.

It seemed foolish.

In this world, where Titans roamed, he knew it was only a matter of time for reality to catch up with him.

He feared he would leave you and die or worse, he would lose you.

Every time he left, he left a piece of himself outside the walls. It broke your heart to see.

So, it came as no surprise that he was grumpy. You wondered if he ever had any shine behind his eyes.

Anyone who saw as many people die as he did needed to cope with the pain. And this was his way of doing so. He didn't let people in, so he wouldn't care if he lost them.

Which wasn't true.

No matter how many times you cuddled, hugged or kissed him, he was always grumpy.

Every time he left, you prepared for the worst.

You were prepared for him to return with missing limbs or injuries. But you were also prepared for him not returning at all.

It was a part of loving him.

Even if he was an excellent soldier, you knew how it was, things could happen.

And one day, you were right.

After Eren finished with his plan. After the Rumbling took out everything and everyone beyond the walls, you were more terrified than ever.

And on top, Levi came back to you injured.

At least he came back.

At least you still had him.

You remembered how carefully you hugged him with shaking arms as you cried.

"You won." you kept repeating.

Won? No, not really.

He lost many, too many. And now, it felt like he lost himself.

It took a lot of time for you to help him.

His missing fingers often gave him phantom pain, and the scars on his face made him look like a monster.

Or rather he was convinced he looked like one.

You often found yourself wondering how to ease his pain, how to show him that it was okay.

He fought a war after all, you always doubted he would end up unphased by all of it.

The Queen was kind enough and gifted you a home and land with a beautiful view of the sunset.

You were always worried that he would be bored sitting on a porch for most of the day and not doing anything.

But he wasn't.

The tea collection in the kitchen kept him busy.

Then came the garden.

He had a specific plan on what to put where. You couldn't argue.

You were so happy. Having a normal and quiet life, you often visited the others.

However, the nightmares never left him. He often woke up in the middle of the night, or he didn't even sleep.

It broke your heart.

Every time you thought he was finally okay, another wave of insomnia would hit and your heart broke.

"At least I have you." he said one day when you asked him about it. "It is a lot easier having you here. The guilt, the insomnia... my fingers and face. It helps that you support me. I wonder, are you doing it out of pity?"

"Of course not!" your answer was immediate, you felt offended but you know he didn't mean it like that.

"I think, I like you very much." he said and you smiled.

"I love you too." you said as you moved closer to him on the bench outside on the porch, you watched the sunset as you leaned against him, his arm moved around you as you placed your head on his shoulder.

"It is really nice to be alive." he said and you let the silence fill in the space.

There was no need for words, you both understood.

Sometimes, he wasn't grumpy at all, he could be very sweet and loveable when he wanted to.

But only with you.

#levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi aot #levi ackerman #captain levi #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman imagines

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bluegalaxygirl · 1 month

Text

Obsession's Grip (Zosan X Reader) P4

Plot: After saving some of the straw hat crew from a prison, the crew help takes a young man away so he can have a fresh start in life. He's shy but seems to grow attached to Reader in an unhealthy way.

Warning: Snakes, Bad language, Violence, Panic attack and Hurt.

Reader is Female (Sorry), Zoro X Sanji X Reader, Poly relationship, established relationship. Reader has the ability to control the snake tattoos on her arms that come alive when she commands, they can change size and are connected to her emotions.

P1 - P2 - P3 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P9 - P10 - P11 - P12 - P13 - P14

Sitting on your knees on a small cushion you pull the gardening gloves over your hands before grabbing a gardening fork and mashing up the dirt packed around Nami's tangerine trees, loosing up the dirt you get rid of any unwanted insects that you throw into a bucket along with any dead leaves, moss and dead roots before grabbing some compost sprinkling it around. Lost in your own world you don't notice someone standing behind you watching you work until they spoke "Where's your tattoo?" Jumping while letting out a yelp of surprise you quickly turn to see Percy looking quite confused, sighing to get the rest of your panic out you wipe your brow with the back of your hand "You scared me, please don't sneak up on me" You sigh again going back to your job now that you know its only the young man, moving around to your side Percy leans against the pole watching you continue to work "Sorry, i didn't mean too. Where did your tattoo go?" He asks again pointing to your empty arm, a small smile forms on your face at the thought of your moss head "My snakes come from my tattoo's, it's currently training with Zoro in the crows nest, I'd stay away though, you might get hurt" Percy hums at your words while looking up at the crows nest not too far away "I've been meaning to ask, what's your relationship with Zoro and Sanji? I've never seen one like it" Turning you look over the young man who's still looking up at the crows nest, there seemed to be no ill intent behind his words just curiosity and a want to understand so going back to your work you deiced to explain the best you can "Use three are in a relationship together, we love each other, spend time together and go out just the three of us."

Percy turns to look back at you slightly tilting his head but stays quiet letting you continue "We all feel the same way about each other, I love the two with my hole heart, and they love me and each other the same way. Its called a polyamorous relationship" You try your best to explain, the young man hums trying to process it all before smiling and taking a step towards you "Oh! so its like an open relationship?" He asks causing you to cough on your own spit in shock, pulling away from the dirt you cover your mouth with the back of your hand trying to control the coughing, taking a breath you manage to control your breathing again "No, Nothing like that" you yell back at him before turning to face him, guilt hits you hard at the look of fear on his face and his tensed up body "I'm sorry i didn't mean to yell, i'm not angry you just caught me off guard" speaking in a calm voice seems to make Percy relax and nod before leaning against the mast again "It's not an open relationship, we don't see other people, were exclusive to each other and only each other" There's silence between the two of you so you go back to your work wanting to give the young man time to calm down and process what just happened, you really didn't mean to snap but the way he was so happy about it made you feel slightly uneasy, now though you just feel bad for scaring him. Percy trusts you, he's lost a lot and doesn't have anyone else so when he comes to you there's this feeling of obligation. "What if you fall in love with someone else?" Percy suddenly asks catching you off guard again but at least this time you catch yourself before coughing.

Putting more compost down you shake your head at his question but decide to answer it anyway "We'll I'd talk to Zoro and Sanji about it before anything else but i don't see that happening, i love them so much and can't imagine being with anyone else" a smile spreads across your face as you let out a small laugh hoping after that he'll stop asking but unfortunately the questions keep coming "But what if you like that person, and they don't?" Percy asks pushing off what he was leaning on and stepping closer to you, trying to continue your work you try and ignore his eyes on you "We'll than i wouldn't date that person, but like i said i don't see myself falling for anyone else" Your voice becomes less kind as you speak just wanting him to stop asking questions but you don't want to yell at him and make him feel scared again. "What if they fall in love with someone else?" the young man takes another step closer starting to get you mad but you bite your tongue "They would tell me, and we would talk about it" it doesn't matter how quick or slow you are to answer, the questions keep coming getting quicker and quicker each time until he asks one question your heart stops at "Do you ever fear they would cheat on you?" Anxiety wells upside of you unsure of what is going on and why Percy is suddenly acting like this "N-no, they wou-" You stutter trying to get the words out only for the young man to hit you with another question. "What if they fall for someone else and you said no?" Starting to shake your mind is struggling to process, you want to run and get away from the situation but your body can only shake and your eyes can only focus on the ground.

The young man tilts his head while bending down waiting for your answer "W-Why are you asking all this?" You stutter again your gloves hands struggling to hold the garden fork in your hands "I'm just curious plus Sanji flirts with Nami and Robin all the time, doesn't that bother you?" He asks pushing a strand of loose hair behind your ear to get a better look at your face "That's different" Your mind runs as it thinks of all the times the cook has fawned over the girls, it never bothered you before so why does it bother you now? Why does saying those words hurt? "How? he runs after them, gives them anything the want when they want, has hearts in his eyes when ever he see's them. I mean the other day he praised Robins work asked if she wanted anything and fussed over her while you only got a kiss on the forehead, he didn't look at you with hearts in his eyes, he didn't ask if you needed anything else or thank you for helping Robin" Your heart pounds in your chest making you feel like your ribs might crack, you try shaking your head trying to tell yourself that it wasn't true, that he loves you but your heart breaks thinking of how he swayed over to Robin. "That Zoro guy isn't any better either, he's more of the opposite quite, mysterious, only focused on fighting, i mean your down here doing gardening which is tiring in of itself while your snake is up their getting beat by your boyfriend which is also zapping your energy. If i were him i would have made you at least sit down, brought you a snack or something" Tears form in your eyes as he speaks so casually about it all, like its common knowledge, it makes you think, do the other see this too? if so why haven't they said anything?

Standing back up straight Percy sighs while holding his hands behind his back "Honestly i feel like both of them could hide going off with someone else, Sanji most likely wouldn't go off with Nami and Robin since their your crew mates but when on land he most likely can flirt his way into another woman's bed and then leave before you even meet her while Zoro seems to hide things quite easily. If he doesn't want to be touched or is in a mood, most of you put it down to him being grumpy and not having a good fight or training session that day instead of something else. The others also told me he gets lost a lot and some times it takes days for him to come back. What if thats fake, and he's going off to find someone else?" he rambles as you slowly look up at him with hurt teary eyes and shaky breaths, everything he says starts to break your heart more and more pieces falling apart and sinking down to your stomach leaving an empty hole where you heart once was. Unable to form words you sit there starting up at his face, you can't read how he's feeling but your not sure if its just him or your own broken heart, "Miss Y/n?" Percy asks bending down to be right in your face but you quickly stand up taking off your gloves and throwing them aside before turning away form him "I'm fine, i-i remembered something i have to do" Quickly you run past him and through the door into the library hot salty tears streaming down your face as your mind and body go numb but you push forward wanting to wash your face in hopes it'll calm you down.

Nami looks up from her map making with a smile happy to greet you only for it drop when seeing tears running down your red face while scrambling up the ladder as fast as you can "Y/n? You ok?" The navigator calls out after you but gets no response, your mind races as tears uncontrollably fall down your cheeks, rushing into the changing room you don't even make it to the girl's bathroom before falling to your knees and crying into your hands. Your body reacts on its own your mind unable to control its actions, cry's that sound more like wailing leave your mouth with every long outtake of breath, your chest hurts more than you can bear, a knife would feel less painful than this. "Y/n" Nami calls out running into the changing room with wide eyes, she doesn't know what's going on but walks over to you being careful not to spook you or make things worse, lowering herself to sit on her knees the navigator places her hand on your hunched back starting to slowly rub up and down "It's ok, i'm here, I've got you" Nami whispers unsure if you can even hear her over the sound of your own wailing and sharp intake of breaths, the navigator wraps her arms around you pulling your body into hers and letting your tear stained face press into her lap. Curling up you crave the warmth and comfort that Nami is giving you as your mind runs with everything Percy has said, it feels like you've been cheated on, lied too and yet Sanji and Zoro haven't done that, have they? It seems clear that if they did you wouldn't know and if you asked they would deny it. Did they cheat? if so how many times? are you not good enough? Do you need to do more? Nami strokes your hair while whispering reassuring words to you waiting for you to calm down before she can ask what's wrong.

Up in the crows nest Zoro is training with your snake, everything was going normal, the large snake would attack but refuse to use its fangs on the swordsman while Zoro made sure to only hit the snake with the back of his swords. Like always the swordsman would tease the snake from time to time but this time your snake didn't shake it off, in fact its attacks got more heavy, its body growing tense until it stopped attacking all together. Panting the swordsman smirks up at the large snake thats hovering over him "What's up? Tired already?" He teases with a smirk, when you snake doesn't respond just keeps staring down at him, the swordsman stands up straight putting one of his swords away "Something wrong bud?" Again their no response causing worry to build up, walking over to the window Zoro looks down seeing you working on the garden but suddenly you look up at someone, he couldn't see who it is since the post is in the way. Gripping his sword hard Zoro turns deciding to go out and see if your ok while kicking someones ass for making you upset only for your Snake to appear in front of him, its eyes are clouded over white due to its second eyelid being closed while its body expanding with each big intake of breath and when breathing out, a deep rattly growl leaves its open mouth. "Hay bud it's ok, I'll go check on her" Zoro sighs moving around the snake only for its heavy tail to land right in front of him stopping the swordsman from going anywhere "Hay what the hell? Training over, we're done for the day" Unsure of what is going on the green haired man takes a step away while placing his hand on his swords.

The large snake starts to shake before moving towards the hatch, for a second the swordsman thinks it's going to block the exit but instead the snake lifts the hatch up with its tail all while staring at the swordsman. Your snake lets out one short high-pitched hiss as a warning before quickly shrinking down and leaving the crows nest, sighing the swordsman relaxes since he honestly thought your snake was going to attack him for real. As much as he wanted to follow and see if your ok he knows the snakes will get angry with him if he does, theirs nothing worse than a pissed off snake who is now protective over the person he wants to see, so he heads back over to the window. The garden is empty but your stuff is left out and the dirt around the tree's hasn't been put back, you left in a rush, his hope is if something happened you went to Sanji, but he can't tell from here. After a few minutes and no one showing up or coming into the garden the swordsman heads down the ladder and into the kitchen. Sanji looks up from cleaning the counter to smirk at his lover who just walked in "Tired already? Does someone need a nap?" The cook teases making his way around the counter, Zoro raises an eyebrow while looking around, your not here, your snakes not here and Sanji is way too chipper so you didn't come in here "Have you seen Y/n or her snake?" Zoro asks his eyes still scanning the room ignoring the confused look on the cooks face, Sanji sighs crossing his arms over his chest giving his lover a glare "Well her snake did come in here and up the ladder, it… growled at me, what did you do?"

The swordsman quickly turns to face the cook a look of anger and surprise on his face "I didn't do anything, it just started acting weird. I sore Y/n talking to someone but i thought her snake was gonna-" Zoro sighs rubbing his forehead, the cook sighs pulling out a cigarette and lighting up to calm himself down. "I really thought that it was gonna kill me" The swordsman whispers his eyes fixed on the ladder leading to the garden, he knows your not there but where did you go and what happened, the blonde blows out some smoke managing to relax his shoulder and not snap at the swordsman "We should go check on her, I'll ask Nami where she went" The cook sighs heading towards the ladder soon followed by the swordsman, the garden's a mess tool's scattered around, dirt and compost covering the floor, you weren't the type to leave it in this state. "What the hell did you do?" The two jump as Nami burst though the door glaring at them with fire in her eyes "Its clear one of you did or said something so what was it?" The navigator yells stepping closer and grabbing Sanji's tie, the two freeze in place unsure of what to do and what to say, this isn't normal Angry Nami, this is enraged Nami "W-what? Nami-swan" Sanji stutters as he's shoves back by the navigator who then turns to Zoro clenching her fists "I don't know what happened, Is Y/n ok?" The swordsman asks knowing this is about you, Nami starts to shake with anger her eyes burning holes into the green haired man "Ok? No she's not ok, in fact she's staying we me tonight and the two of you are going to leave her alone. I don't want either of you even looking at her" The navigator jabs her finger into Zoro's chest before turning to Sanji who's eyes turn sad and worried.

Placing a hand over his heart the cook steps forward knowing your beyond hurt if your refusing to sleep next to them. "Can you please tell us what is going on? i swear we didn't say or do anything" Nami crosses her arms over her chest while looking the two over trying to decide if their telling the truth or not, soon she sighs relaxing her shoulders "I don't know, she went running to the bathroom crying, she asked to stay with me tonight but thats it… She just needs time to think and its best if you give her space" Now much calmer the Navigator turns heading back to you, things were a lot more confusing now but hopefully later she can get something out of you. Sanji takes a big drag of his cigarette trying to clam his nerves while Zoro stares at the now closed door, neither of them have any idea what is going on but its clear someone said something to you about them. "What do you think?" The swordsman asks turning to the cook who blows out the smoke he was holding before turning to all your gardening stuff "I think Nami's right, we should give her space, hopefully we can talk tomorrow" the blonde bends down putting on some gardening gloves to start cleaning up, nodding Zoro walks over picking up your tools and putting them away. Silence falls over the two as they work putting everything back to how it should be, once done Sanji takes off the gloves and puts them away before turning to the swordsman "How was she talking to?" The cook asks, Zoro sighs standing up while knocking his knuckles on the beam of wood "I couldn't see, this was in the way." Sighing Sanji runs his hand through his hair, it looks like their just gonna have to wait to find out what happened.

You couldn't face going to dinner and seeing Sanji and Zoro, you didn't want to talk to them right now or even have them looking at you. Red puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks and tissues littering Nami's bed that your laying on, trying to calm down so you can hopefully getting your mind and heart in the same place but it's proving difficult since your brain is telling they would never cheat on you while your heart is shattered feeling like its already happened. Laying under the covers you look up at the ceiling, your tears have long since dried but the headache persists. The door to the girls room opens but you pay it no mind too tired and emotionally drained to even turn your head in their direction, "Hay we brought left overs" Nami smiles sitting on the bed and placing a plate of food on the side table while Robin heads over to her bed taking a seat on the edge. "Do you want to talk about it?" The black haired woman asks reaching out and taking your hand in comfort, sighing you shake your head, you want to talk about it but with your body deciding to shut down you can't even from words, patting your hand Robin stands up and pulls the covers over you more "We can talk tomorrow, for now just get some sleep" Nami nods in agreement while standing up and starting to turn out the lights only leaving the one next to Robin's bed on "If you need anything just ask" The navigator smiles sitting on Robin bed and pulling out a book not ready to sleep yet. Nodding you close your eyes letting your body and mind fall into a deep sleep, the two girls keep quiet doing some reading.

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spiderlandry · 9 months

Note

congrats!!!! i was wondering if you could do a childhood friends to lovers drabble with ethan landry?

thank u anon!! i Love childhood friends to lovers (i already have one for ethan in my wips, so i ended up making this one a little different, but my wip sounds like something you’d be into so stick around for when i release that soon!)

used a jack gif because i am running out of cute ethan ones 😧 this turned out way longer than expected sorry omfg

100 follower event

warnings/tags: mostly just fluff w ethan 😮‍💨 ghostface not mentioned, one use of y/n, mentions of dieting (by ethan b/c he’s going to the gym), insecurities

off the table — ethan landry

“Ethan, look at the camera!”

He stares at his phone, watching through the ‘movies’ you used to film at his house when you were younger. Your voice sounds squeaky, matching his at the time. The video is blurry, but he can see his own goofy pose through the pixels as you turn the camera to him, and then here comes his favourite part, when you turn the camcorder and set it on the coffee table and he can see you and him sitting on the floor of his family living room.

“Introduce yourself, come on!”

“Ethan?” A knock on his bedroom door forces him to shut off his device and hug it to his chest, leaning back against his headboard.

“Yeah?” He responds to the all-too familiar voice, you, on the other side of the wood, opening the door.

“Um—“ You squint your eyes at him, as if you’d heard the sounds coming from his phone. Shit, did you hear? “You have any plans tonight?” You don’t mention the way he’s visibly relieved when you ask.

“No, why?” He’s back at ease with you again, pushing back the thoughts of a future with you to the back of his mind.

“Dinner?”

“I want wings,” He confesses.

You chuckle at his admission, knowing he’d been dieting because he began regularly going to the gym with Chad. (Which, honestly, was a treat to your eyes—but he’d never know.)

“I’ll get wings.” You pull out your phone to order, then adding, “I won’t tell Chad.” Before you leave and close the door.

He runs his hands down his face. Why did he think becoming roommates with you was a good idea? Oh, right, because you promised each other when you were kids.

It’s not the fact that you’re roommates. It’s that you’re just roommates, at least at this moment. But you’re also each other’s best friend since childhood—a connection that neither of you plan to change.

He watches through the video folder he has, titled, ‘y/n and ethan’ consisting of the videos you two filmed with a shitty camcorder at his dad’s house.

It was a time capsule of sorts—the videos progressed and the two of you grew up—but as time passed, the entries became less frequent. The last time was before you both separated for the first two years of college, when you went to study abroad. But you came back, reminded him of the promises you both made; telling him ‘the offer is still on the table.’ and he ended up moving in with you as per the plans you made as children.

This year of living together has been like if nothing ever changed, like you never went anywhere else, never spent two years apart from him. Though, there are flashes of uncertainty. Cracks in your demeanor that leaves him wondering if he truly knows you still.

Each moment where you mention someone in your life he doesn't know, he feels a sting. And on top of that, he feels guilt. How can he stay in your life keeping this secret from you? It eats at him.

He's in love with you. There's no denying that. The problem lies in how long he can hold it in, out of fear of ruining what he has with you. But knowing you, you would probably reject him so nicely that he wouldn't notice. There is no chance you'd feel the same, he thinks.

You both eat wings on the couch, watching your favorite movie. Neither of you care about the close distance, shoulders touching and hands brushing against each other when the movie ends and you begin to cleanup.

In the kitchen disposing of trash, you lean against a counter while he gets busy tidying up the kitchen. He can feel your stare on him, burning.

"Are you just gonna stand there?" He laughs, but there's a waiver in his voice that is hard to miss.

"Were you watching the videos of us? You know. Earlier."

His heart pounds in his ears. "Yeah. Why?" He doesn't see a point in lying anymore.

You sigh, "I miss you too, you know."

His head snaps up to meet yours, a longing gaze in your eyes.

That's when he realizes that you've stepped closer, your warmth practically radiating off your figure. His mind blanks.

"I feel like I've been..." You pause to think, "I don't know. Distant?"

Between the two of you, you were always the more honest one. A trait he admires, a reason to look up to you. You never shy away from a conversation when it's needed.

Ethan's mind jumps to a worst case scenario. Multiple, actually. Why are you telling him this? You're about to break bad news to him, aren't you?

Reading the uncertainty in his eyes, you continue.

"Something's changed." You shrug, looking to him for an answer.

"No, why--why would you say that?"

"I'm sorry, E."

His brows furrow. Now he's even more confused.

"I feel like I don't know how to fucking act around you anymore."

Woah. Now where did that come from?

His shoulders slump at the mere though of you not wanting to be around him. Did he do something wrong? Are you uncomfortable?

You mumble something inaudible.

"What?" He whispers, almost breathless.

"IthinkI'minlovewithyou."

He's certain his heart stopped beating. He needs to get his ears checked, surely.

"Can--can you say that again?"

You stare at him through your lashes, a frown forming on your lips. He wants nothing more than to wipe it off you, but first he needs to make sure he heard you correctly.

"I'm in love with you." You stop looking at his eyes, unable to face him. "And I'm sorr--"

He engulfs you in a hug before you can finish.

"Don't ever be sorry," He tightens his hold, and you reciprocate. "I thought--I didn't think you'd ever feel the same."

He can physically feel you relaxing.

"You're an ass."

That gets a laugh out of him. "Why?"

"You made me say it again."

"You know what? I'll make you a deal."

"Yeah? Is it a good deal? Don't try to scam me."

He smiles, though you can't see it because your eyes are closed, too focused on the feeling of his arms around you. "I'll tell you how much I love you for as long as you want."

"Give me a timeframe."

"For the rest of our lives, hm? Deal?"

"Deal."

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream 6 x reader #ethan landry fluff #scream vi #scream x reader #scream

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 2 months

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what was jk’s initial reaction to the revelation? Like after oc went outside to cool off and he was left with Jared and Jina. Did he tell them off? I really wanted to see what he would tell Jared since he was apperantly giving him the stink eye for a while now

"Jina" I call after her as I watch her stalking towards Jared as he walks back into the house after chasing y/n. "What?" she spits out, whipping her head back around to face me.

"Wanna try that again?" I ask, cocking a brow at her and she stiffens after realizing what she had done. "I'm sorry dad I just...well Jared he-" "What were you thinking Jina? Sneaking around with your best friend's boyfriend? Oh I'm sorry her fiancé" I say, throwing it back at her again to instill further guilt. "I raised you better than this and you know that" I growl out, trying to keep my anger at bay.

"How could you do this? Y/n was your first and from what I can see only true friend you've had since we moved here. Why would you do something that cruel?" I ask, clearly not understanding how my own daughter could cause someone that we both care about such heartbreak.

"I don't know dad it just happened okay. There's nothing I can do about it now so can we just drop it already?" she says, her head on a swivel, no doubt looking for where Jared had disappeared to. "No we can't just drop it. I expect to see you and Jared in my study. Now!" I bark out and her whole body stiffens in fear before running off to find him.

~~~~

I hear a faint knock at the door and grant them entry without even glancing up.

"You wanted to see us?" Jared asks with that all to familiar arrogant tone. "Sit" I bark out and they both take a seat at the two chairs I have placed in front of my desk. I stand up and glare down at Jared thinking about how easy it would be to snap his neck right now.

He's been a thorn in my side ever since Jina brought him and y/n over to the house for the first time and I've been waiting for the day I could put him in place. Although I wish it was under different circumstances.

His gaze always full of lust towards both of them when they weren't looking but oh how I saw it. I saw it every damn time and I kept my mouth shut mistakenly thinking that my daughter would stay as far away from him in terms of anything more than a platonic friendship and even that had me grinding my teeth at the thought.

"You're lucky you're not six feet under for what you did to y/n and Jina" I growl at him, holding myself back from hurting him. "Are you serious? She came onto me" he claims but I know without even looking at Jina that it's a lie.

"Oh yeah and so I guess you really don't have much of a brain if you couldn't tell her no or get her off of you. Or did you even try?" I add, cocking my head, cracking my neck in the process to gain some form of relief from the stiffness that come over me after I heard those devastating words leave y/n's mouth.

"Right" I say, filling up the silence Jared had left, all of us knowing he would be lying if he said otherwise. I take a deep breath before turning my back to them to compose myself before saying another word.

"I'm keeping the baby dad" she says, making the choice I was sure she would've made anyway, at least this way one less person has to suffer. Life might've been seen as being 'better' if she had taken the easy way out but we all know that we would've felt their absence everyday if she had.

"Did he force himself on you?" I ask her, not daring to look him in the eye otherwise I might snap. "Are you seriously asking if I raped her?" Jared says, getting up out of his chair and after that I'm at my limit and loom over him and look him dead in the eye, this time asking him the question since he so eagerly jumped in before she could answer.

"Yeah Jared I am. Did you rape my daughter" I growl out, praying to anyone who might hear me that the answer is no. "No I didn't fucking rape her" he grits his teeth and flares his nostrils, clearly trying and failing to intimidate me.

"He got me drunk dad but I said yes" Jina admits to me and before Jared gets whatever insult that had been bubbling in his throat out my fist collides with his face, leaving him falling to the floor and coughing back the pain from the blow.

"Fuck" he groans out as he staggers up to his feet.

"If I catch you anywhere near this house. If I see you touching either one of them I will gut you from the inside out you hear me?" I bark out at him and he flinches back at the volume, now knowing that violence is not beneath me when it comes to my girls.

"Yes sir" he says, hissing at the sting of his busted lip. "Get the hell out of my sight" I say and turn my back to him again and hear him stalk out of my office and out the front door.

"Dad why-" "Why did I what? Punch the guy who got my daughter vulnerable enough to be able to convince her to have sex with him and is now pregnant with his baby? Are you really asking me why I did that?" I scoff and she tries to speak again but I cut her off before she can say anything else.

"How long?" I question, waiting for the answer and dreading the number. "Wha-" "How long have you been sleeping with him Jina for fucks sake just answer the question" I shout and watch her cower back into her chair.

"Why are you talking to me like this? You've never yelled at me before" she asks, making my heart break as I see glimpses of the broken little girl I know she hides inside of her but not letting up because I know she needs discipline and not sympathy right now.

"How, long?" I say again, emphasizing each word. "Six months" she whispers out, cringing at revealing the shameful amount of time they had spent together. "How far along are you?" I question, this time a bit gentler. "Two months" she says even quieter than the last.

"Do you have a doctor?" I question, wanting to make sure that she and the baby are being looked after properly. "Not yet" she says hanging her head, finally letting her shame consume her entire being. "Get one and tell me the name so I can cover the costs" I say, my back turned to her, trying to withhold that part of me that wants to hold her and tell her everything is going to be okay. But she fucked up, and she deserves to feel the guilt and the shame of her actions for a while now that it's out in the open.

"Dad I can-" "This isn't open for discussion Jina. Find a doctor and send me their information or I will find one for you myself. Now leave, I don't want you coming back here until I say so" I say, keeping my voice as level as I can.

"But dad I-" "No Jina, go. We'll discuss this later" I say, leaving the room before I have a chance to lose my resolve and go to the nearest bedroom to calm down before seeing the rest of our lingering guests out.

~~~~~

Hope this answered your question hehe

Thanks for the ask love 🥰

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