#good lord why does she look so good covered in blood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

icedmatchatae · 1 year

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Good for Me | KTH

Pairing: Bad Boy Taehyung x Wholesome Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, PWP (porn with plot LMAO),

Summary: You went home for the weekend, leaving a pissed-off and bruised-up Taehyung dry and devastated. So what does he do?—follow you home. Insane? Probs, but you’re always good for him so why not?

Warning: OC’s parents are those strict nosy parents who still tell you what to do even if you’re 50 years+, mentions of Christianity hfrowhouw SUE ME, i have no idea what oc and tae are but you know there’s something, mentions of violence, blood, fighting, sneaky sneaky, dom tae x subby reader but tae is needy and whipped for her, he’s just a little shit, tae has a favorite curse word—it’s fuck, TAEHYUNG IS HUGE AND HUNG, aggressive handling (but oc consented), degradation/praise combo, pet names (because I’m a simp), oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, spanking, tae enjoys seeing oc cry, licking, i think i have an obsession with orgasm control/denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t be like them), cream pie, cum play, the ending though MWAHAHAHAH

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: I’m adding on for the taewhores and also wrote one lol BLAME THE FUCKING ELLE COVERS BECAUSE THIS SHOT OUT OF MY BLEEDING VAGINA DJDBDBSB I’M REPENTING AFTER THIS also cross-posted on AO3. Posting this at 2AM because that's when the feral wolf comes out :D

“You know ___, you shouldn’t be going out and partying. What if you do drugs and we don’t know? You know you should focus on yo—”

“Dad, for the last time, I’ve been focusing on my studies.” You rolled your eyes, not wanting a whole ‘nother lecture when you’re here, and you got here today! “I rarely go out too, plus if I do, I know I have to finish my work! You’ve seen my grades!”

“Yes, I know but still. Those worldly activities won’t get you anywhere in life but trouble.” Your dad expressed his continuous concern for you. He can’t help that you were his youngest. “Especially with boys! I mean your sisters have boyfriends but we don’t want that for y—”

“Dad, please. Nothing’s going on with me.” You semi-lied. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you stared exhaustingly at him. “It’s also not fair, but I don’t want to get into that.” You muttered under your breath as your father rested his hands on his hips.

“I’m just worried about you, sweet pea, especially since you’re farther away from us than your sisters were.” He reasoned worryingly. “We rarely hear from you too.”

“Because I’m just tired and I’m usually studying.” You shrugged. “I’m safe, okay? If I’m not, I know to call you or mom.”

“Fine…” He still didn’t look convinced, but it was enough to end it…for today only. “I always pray for your safety regardless. You should get some sleep since we’re waking up early tomorrow for the church fellowship.”

“I still don’t know why you wanted me to come for the weekend.” It was random and unexpected. But your father called you a couple of days back telling you to come back home for the weekend, so as a good and obedient daughter, you did.

“Of course, you needed to come.” He said like it was obvious. “As the pastor of the church and the one who’s hosting it, I’d like all my children to come.”

“But why aren’t the other two here?” You questioned. You haven’t seen your two older sisters yet.

“I mean they live around the area, unlike you since you’re hours away. We figured that they’ll meet us over there.” He responded.

Great, you were the only one and had to deal with both of your parents for the entire weekend alone. At least your mom was already sleeping, but once she wakes up, it’ll only be twice as worse.

“Alright, well, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” You announced before hugging him. “Good night, love you.”

“Love you too, sweet pea, and remember, dear, the Lord is watching.” Your father pointed upwards, indicating the invisible yet existent one. You gulped before nodding obediently and going under your sheets. Before he left your room, he held the doorknob and said, “No boys, and don’t forget to pray!”

“Okay.” You didn’t even bother to look at him as you were situating yourself comfortably in bed. The bedroom lights were clicked off, yet the only light source was your bedside lamp. You heard your door closed shut and the sounds of his heavy footsteps disappeared away from your room before letting out a relieving sigh.

You don’t even know how long you could keep like this. There were many reasons why you wanted to be away for college, and this was one of them. You cheered yourself on right now, knowing that it’s just this weekend and you’ll be back in your freedom in no time.

This was where prayer came in handy, asking for the amount of strength and patience you’ll need with your parents. But it was all interrupted by the blue light and vibrations coming from your phone resting on your nightstand. This sigh you let out was more exasperated than before. You turned your head in that direction. You couldn’t really what was on it at this angle, but you definitely knew who it was.

You snatched your phone to find the 43 messages, 12 missed calls, and 2 voicemails from the one and only Kim Taehyung.

You honestly don’t know how you got into this mess, or how you weren’t able to get him away (probably because you still wanted him to be within reach). But the cycle continued.

It was probably because you were new to that town, having no background about your new hometown, and usually, those who lived there continued to stay there. You were fresh meat. But don’t get it wrong, people were nice and brought you in like you were always part of the community. You found new friends, even living with a girl who treated you so sweetly and caringly. It almost felt like they wanted to protect you from something…or rather someone.

That happened to be Taehyung.

You see here, folks. Kim Taehyung had a…infamous reputation. His name always got a reaction since the day he came into the world. What that meant was people were afraid of him. He grew up as a delinquent, had some family issues, got into loads of trouble, got suspended from school, was shipped to boarding school but got expelled and came back, and even got into countless fights. You recalled someone mentioning he once beaten his teacher up because he got a low grade that he shouldn’t have deserved.

He tended to get what he wanted. It didn’t help the fact that he came from a pretty well-off family, so whatever he did, it didn’t reach the police. Right? Fucking rich people.

Nevertheless, Taehyung’s behavior with or without his familial status was rogue. There have been rumors about him getting into gangs, drugs, you know the typical dark side of society. You couldn’t confirm nor deny it because despite his willingness to tell you, you never wanted to hear anything about it. Ignorance was bliss under this circumstance.

With that being said, when you first came here, you were instantly warned to stay away from him or else…You reasoned with, “or else what?” But then they proceeded to say the same things to you—he was dangerous, he harms others, he doesn’t care about anyone else but himself, if you’re in his way, he’ll wipe your entire existence away, and your life would get fucked up.

You did in fact listen and stayed away. You rarely knew of him or even saw him around, but it was better safe than sorry. Of course, fate begged to differ.

Oh, that’s right. That’s how you got into this mess. You were partners with him in a general requirement course, and then after briefly talking to him, you realized he wasn’t all that bad.

First off, the dude was immaculate looking, like, who wouldn’t want to stare at his chiseled features? Yeah, he stared intensely almost like he wanted to kill you, but it affected you in other ways. His voice was cavernous and velvet like you wanted him to read the Bible to you.

He looked annoyed, yet he was a chill dude. There you thought—give him a chance and a break.

Oh boy, you thought wrong. So so wrong.

But did you love it? Absolutely.

This was why you needed to repent.

You didn’t even bother reading his texts. You decided to call him and annoyingly sat up from your comfortable position. The call didn’t even ring twice because, after the first one, he answered immediately.

“Petal, where the fuck are you?” He shouted through the phone. You squinted to yourself but weren’t as affected by his tone since you were used to it by now.

“I went home for the weekend.” You simply replied.

“And didn’t fucking bother to tell me?”

“It was a last-minute thing, and it slipped my mind.” You shrugged, then you pulled your blankets off of you to get up and habitually pace around the room while you talked. “Plus, you don’t have any authority to know where I am.”

“I absolutely do have the authority whether you like it or not.”

“Ew, red flag, why?”

“I need to know if you’re safe.” His voice subsided this time, knowing he was probably pouting yet you couldn’t see it. Okay, this was rather valid since you were associated with the bad boy of the town.

“Well, I am safe. I’m away from school and all of that.” You blushed, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. “I’m with my parents too. My holy parents, might I add.”

“Right, holy parents and your holy sisters who got married to other holy men.” You could hear the sarcasm leaving his mouth. “Yet there’s nothing holy about their slutty little girl and the man that’s been fucking her to hell.”

“Shhhhh, don’t say stuff like that, Taehyung!” You whisperingly yelled as you stopped your pacing to clench your legs together. You always hated how much of a potty mouth he was. Though you internally loved it. “You know I don’t like that.”

“Come on, Petal. I’m just lightening up my mood, especially since you left me.”

“I won’t be gone for that long. It’s only the weekend, and I’ll be back in no time.” You resumed your pace before standing in front of your window with your back facing it.

“That’s too long for me to not have you.”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do!”

“You can come back, Petal.”

“No, I can’t!” You shook your head. “My parents will get mad if I leave, for a boy too.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to let you take.”

“Taetae, no!” You were trying to stand your ground. You already had four lectures with your parents, you can’t argue with him right now. “I need to sleep, it’s getting late too!”

Though his heart fluttered at the use of the nickname, he was getting pissed off that you weren’t being a good girl for him. “Babydoll, be careful with your words. I’m warning you.” His voice went an octave down, shocking your body especially your cunt. Even hundreds of kilometers away, he had such a powerful effect on you.

“I am being careful! With everything. Now please, I have to get up early tomorrow. Good night, okay Taetae? I’m sorry.” You rushed your words in fear that you were getting too loud that your parents might hear.

“This isn’t ov—” You didn’t let him finish because you decided that this conversation was over. You didn’t want to get into trouble on both ends, but your parents scared you more than him. They’ll probably want to purify you if they found out you were stained by the lustful demon-like Taehyung.

Despite ending the call, here came Taehyung calling you over and over again. You could not be bothered with it, so you settled it back onto your nightstand. You were exhausted, frustrated, and horny, but sleep was above all right now. You had to bite your tongue and go to bed.

You were about to get back into your sheets when suddenly your window from the second level of the house opened, and a gust of wind pushed its way inside. Your head snapped back at the speed of light, then a large palm covered your entire mouth before you could scream your heart out.

Though in low light, your wild widened eyes saw his face. But what sparked you was his concerning appearance. While disheveled ebony hair was pushed back with little strands falling off his forehead, yet there was a deep cut with dried-up blood around its corners. Hues of purple and yellow covered his rich eyes that gleamed in the night whilst glaring deeply into your soul. The perfect bridge of his curved nose had another pained gash. His ever-so-plumped lips were peeled and split open and the corner of his mouth held bruising. Despite all, he looked so perfect in your dazed eyes.

“Good night, okay Taetae?” At a lower volume, he mimicked your voice at a higher pitch than how you actually sounded. He dropped his hand off of you and started waving both hands around. “Oh, look, I’m ___. I need my rest to go to church with my pastor dad and repent all the nasty shit I do with my Taetae.”

You didn’t even bother to point out how he was inaccurately impersonating you because you were shushing him to shut up. “Taehyung, be quiet. My parents could hear you.” You shook your head, eyes shifting from the closed door to him. Then you realized it wasn’t locked, so you rushed there to lock it immediately. You checked the knob and once it didn’t budge, you peered back at the frustrated man standing tall and intimidating. “How did you even find me?”

“I always find you.” He snorted as his eyes roamed around your childhood bedroom. Very pink with an unhealthy amount of plushies scattered around and you had so many pictures of your family. Not to mention the Bible at your desk. “We also share each other’s location.”

“I don’t even look at yours.”

“That’s your fault.” He retorted back.

“Taetae, you’re all bruised up!” You gasped as you finally saw patches of blood stains on his denim and army fabric jacket. A sleeve was torn and ripped. His knuckles held more bruising cuts and discoloration. You couldn’t even process that he had no shirt underneath because battered markings painted his torso. It wasn’t unusual to see him like this because these things occurred regularly but never made you less at ease. You reached for his hands and inspected for any other cuts and bleeding. “Noo, do you feel like you have a concussion? Is your head also okay? Will you need stitches agai—“

Out of nowhere, his long fingers grasped under your jaw, pulling you closer to his face. His grip tightened, causing you to wince in pain. Dang, he was so furious. Not bothering to answer you, he interrupted your worries. “Now the fuck you were doing, talking back at me and hanging up? You’re not being a good girl right now.”

Though you were in a light panic for him, you didn’t like when he scolded you like that. You frowned profoundly, “I-I’m a good girl, Taetae.” Your cheeks were puffed and squishy, he even struggled to put a hard exterior.

You were always so soft even before him. You didn’t like getting scolded despite hearing numerous lectures from your parents. You always wanted to be obedient to those you loved.

However, Taehyung’s scoldings hit a little differently.

“Oh yeah, does a good girl leave their man without permission?” Taehyung patronized you, he knew how to get you to fear him. You merely shook your head and apologized, but he wasn’t having it. “Words, Petal. Speak up.”

“No, they don’t. I-I’m sorry, Taehyung.”

He lets out a dark chuckle before he pressed his injured lips to your forehead. They felt soft and warm on your skin. “I don’t think you’re sorry, babydoll. Seems like the bad girl needs to be punished.”

You shook your head, lips pushing out into a pout. “No, please.” You breathed. “My paren—”

Taehyung tutted and rolled his eyes before using the hand that held your face to coerce your head down so you can drop down to your knees. “Kneel before me, slut.”

You whimpered weakly as your knees landed on the ground with a loud thud. Your palmed rested in front of his dirtied boots. Your heart palpitated fast in fear of getting caught, but your mind was preoccupied with the unexpected slap from the man before you.

You bit your lips deeply, trying not to make any more sounds. The tears in your eyes threatened to be released but you also held back by squeezing your eyes shut. More so to not give Taehyung satisfaction. But when you peeled them back open and looked up, it was over for you.

He leered down at you, his stone demeanor expanded by the second. You noticed his naked chest raising harshly from the breaths he took. You immediately felt smaller and smaller the longer you stared at each other in this position.

“Be a good girl and take my cock out”. He commanded as he threaded his fingers through your hair and yanked you closer. “Now.”

You didn’t hesitate any longer. Your trembling hands tugged his belt off. You tried your best to quicken up the pace, but it seemed to hold you back as you struggled with the button pants and zipper. Taehyung noticed too so he fastened his grip on you to tell you to hurry up, making you weep.

“S-sorry.” You apologized quietly but it wasn’t enough for him. Once you pulled his pants down, you were met with a familiar bulge in his underwear. When you freed him, his monstrous dick slapped his toned stomach and bounced before you.

Taehyung never failed to amaze you with how colossal he was. The first time you saw it you wanted to run away, but he caught you and you got hooked. His darkened mushroom head was huge while the base was thick and his curved length was long and veiny. It was the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen and seemed that God blessed him very well.

Nothing happened between the two of you yet but the slit of his tip pearled fluids. You gawked agape with your mouth parted and tongue swiping your lips. His dick twitched, waiting for you to do something but you were too mesmerized.

Impatiently, using his unoccupied hand, he seized your jaw again, keeping your mouth open. “You’re fucking taking too long.” It didn’t take him long to bring your lips to his cock and push all of him in one motion.

You let out a muffled cry with watery eyes. If the tears fell before, they sure did now. Your throat muscles throbbed around him from the unexpected slamming. You gagged painfully, especially since his blunt head hit the back of your throat. Your mouth produced trickling drool all over him and down your chin. You were by no means prepared, but Taehyung didn’t seem bothered as he began his harsh pace.

You held onto his muscular thighs. You were crying so much but your sobs were smothered by the cruel thrusts of his rabid cock. Despite the sting, the actions sent a flood to your thin underwear. The familiar warmth covered your stomach, clenching your thighs together for some pressure on your poor leaking cunt.

“Fuck, Petal. Shit.” He cursed lowly. His cavernous moans echoed through the air. “Look at me.” His order sounded like a threat. He stopped his movements; his cock halfway in your mouth. When you opened your heavy lids, he looked so hot and bothered even in your blurry vision. “My pretty girl.” His thumb wiped off the trail of tears.

You were always pretty in his eyes, smiling, and laughing, even when you get angry at his annoying ass. But he especially thought you were pretty when he made you cry like this.

Then he went back to bobbing your head brutally on him. Your nails scratched his thighs, leaving indents on them. You retched again, spit drenching all over him. “Fucking amazing for a slut like you. Is this what you wanted, since you’re a fucking bad girl?”

You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t so you shook your head and whimpered. You weren’t a bad girl. You were good!

You were getting lightheaded, feeling so stuffed to even breathe. Taehyung observed your face getting a little pale. You always forgot to learn how to breathe when giving him a blow job.

He pressed into you once more and a bit longer than usual, so he can imprint the feeling of your mouth again into his spank bank. He ultimately pulled out, leaving a long string of drool from his tip to your crimson lips. His dick covered in your sweet saliva.

You heaved profoundly and wept here and there. You wanted to tell him off, but you were too scared to say anything. You pushed the tears away with the back of your hand and gulped your words but it pained you to do that.

“God, you’re messy,” He laughed cynically at you. “Aww, you’re upset, babydoll?” He asked condescendingly.

“N-no,” You sniffed, trying your best to be strong. “I’m not.”

“Good, you better not.” He said, letting go of your hair. “Stand up.”

This time you were swift on your feet. Though with painful reddened knees, you stood up wobbly and held Taehyung’s biceps for some support. He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you to be chest to chest with him.

Being like this, you saw how he towered over you. The height difference wasn’t compared to a gremlin and the Incredible Hulk but he was still way taller than you. He absorbed your appearance, finally taking in how you wore a cute brown bear pajama shirt and matching shorts. The fresh aroma of roses from your body wash and your natural scent swirling into his nostrils sent his pheromones into a frenzy. He wanted you so badly.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you while your parents are sleeping?” His hot breath splashed your face, fluttering you into submission. You unconsciously nodded excitingly but it caused him to tut at you. “I’m not gonna tell you again. Exact words, babydoll.”

“Yes!” You shouted too quickly that only after you caught yourself, covering your mouth with your palms. He smirked at your reaction—so needy for him. Just the way he loved it. Your hands slowly traveled to his shoulders as you batted your beautiful irises at him. You didn’t like swearing, but it came often when you were with him alone. “Uhh, p-please f-fuck me. I’m your good girl, Taetae.”

The perfect answer.

He bent down to peck the tip of your nose then went further down to lick the trunk of your neck. He picked a spot before suckling around to mark his territory. You mewled at the sensation, slithering your arms around his nape. He began moving towards your bed while you stepped back, following his lead until you fell back onto the sheets of your mattress. Your back rested while your legs hung at the edge of the bed.

Your unapologetic eyes wandered his frame.

He kicked his pants and boots off his ankles, leaving him in only his jacket. But even that, he took off. The faded and lighter scars sprawled his torso, showing evidence of fights and brawls through the years. The fresher wounds battered his rough skin and once you saw gauges wrapped around his right hip with blood patches seeping through, you sat up straight with pupils dilated.

“Taehyung, your—”

“I didn’t tell you to speak,” He growled, and stalked to the bed before pushing your shoulder roughly to lay back down. Your body bounced, trying to process what was happening but he tugged your shorts and panties down and off your skin.

He kneeled in front of you, callous palms spreading your thighs apart to reveal your leaking puffy pussy. He didn’t even touch you and you were this soaked. He inhaled deeply, taking in your sweet essence.

Jesus Christ, you were always embarrassed when he did that. It was like his human nature devolved into animalistic instincts. His mouth had a mind of its own, nibbling your inner thighs and placing even more marks on you like he wanted to claim you. You gasped quietly, jerking a little. So sensitive as always. His thumbs stretched your nether lips apart, revealing more of you to him. The petals of your sex opened for him. Your little hole throbbing around nothing but secreted so much wetness, even spotted your tiny clit inflamed, begging to be touched.

But to your luck, Taehyung wasn’t the type to get on with it right away…well he can, but most of the time, he chose not to. No, sir, he took his time with you, to the point you had to drop your pride and beg. His fingers lightly caressed your sex, enough for you to feel it but do no pleasure.

“Tae,” You whined, hands reaching for him but he swatted them away.

“Don’t touch me, put them on your sides.” He seethed through his teeth.

“But—”

Smack! The slap stung your cunt, making you welp loudly. He does another and your head turned to the side. You cried, pressing your face into your blankets. Taehyung continued hitting your pussy until it was red and sensitive.

“Naughty girl!” He slapped your lips once more, jolting your feeble body. “What’s wrong with you tonight? You think just because you’re with your family that you forgot all the rules we had, hm??”

“N-n-no.” You sobbed, shaking your head cowardly. “I promise I reme—”

A knock came on your bedroom door.

Both of your heads shot toward the direction with wide eyes. Another knock happened again before the person on the other end said, “___?” Another knock. “Sweet pea, I heard noises. Are you good?” Then the fucking knob jiggled, but fortunately, you locked it. “Why’d you lock the door? What are you doing?”

Shoot, it was your dad. Your pastor dad. Now your heart was heavy and dropped down to your uneasy stomach. You needed to say something quickly, but no words came out. You shifted to see Taehyung who shrugged and smirked devilishly, leaving you to fend for yourself.

It was only until your dad said, “Do I need to use the spare keys to open the door?” That you spoke up.

“No! I’m good, I just…I accidentally dropped my phone on my face.” You lied, praying he’d buy it.

“You and your dang phone.” He complained through the door. Taehyung’s mouth went wide with silent laughter hearing you get scolded. You pursed your lips, shaking your head. He was no help at all because there was a gleam of mischief and it wasn’t a good sign at all. “You need to get off of that thing, sweet pea. You won’t have enough sleep. Remember you’re joining the praise team in the morning.”

“Yes, dad! I know. I’m sorry to—unghhh.” Your sentence was interrupted by the sudden breach from Taehyung’s two long fingers sliding in so smoothly into your cunt.

“___? ___, are you okay?” Your dad questioned as he continuously knocked on your door.

It didn’t take long for Taehyung to find your g-spot, curling his fingers to muscle memory. His digits pumped into you, and at times, he thumbed your clit. He had your eyes rolling back and biting your lips to stop your struggling whimpers. “I-I’m f-fine right now. D-d-ahh worry!”

“Are you sure you’re fine? You sound like you’re in pain.”

Taehyung dived into your pussy, taking a long lick before wrapping his lips around your sensitive nub. The tips of his fingers did their magic hitting your insides, playing with the squish of immense ecstasy.

You shrieked involuntarily, fisting the blankets under you as you threw your head back. “Yes, I’m fine!” You groaned distressingly. “I-I’m so…touched by my prayer before sleeping.” You swore faintly when Taehyung suckled and flattened his tongue on your clit.

“Prayer to the Lord is always so emotional, sweet pea.” Your father pointed out, but you really didn’t give a shit. “Alright, don’t want to disturb your time. Hope you get some sleep soon though. Good night.”

His footsteps faded away and you mentally cheered that you didn’t get caught, but you had sudden guilt that you basically spoke to your father with a guy eating you out.

Taehyung released his mouth off you to see how you appeared, crumbling at his touch. Your face wrinkled together with your mouth parted, and you saying his name with your pretty voice had his aching cock twitching. He reached over to the hem of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your soft bare breasts and hardened nipples. “Such a pretty girl. Touched by the prayer? No, no, I’m the one you should be praying to.”

“D-don’t say that.” You moaned he knew you were very much in tune with your spirituality but he also liked to mess around with you.

“Why, Petal? You don’t like what I say, hmm?” He pouted mockingly, pushing his fingers deeper into you. You gasped, digging your head into the mattress. “I’ll give you everything that you want.” These blankets did no justice, you needed to hold onto him. You put your hand out, silently asking to hold him. Taehyung was mean but he wasn’t that mean…at least not today, so he accepted your request and intertwined his vacant hand with yours.

He felt your cunt getting tighter, understanding what was about to happen. Well, remember how Taehyung wasn’t that mean? That statement was taken back because he said, “Don’t come until I say so.”

You whined, giving your best doe-eyes and pinkest pout. “Please, Taetae. Wanna cum.”

Without removing any touch of you, he stood from his feet before covering your entire body with his large one. His face leaned down until your noses touched. “No.” He simply replied, yet his pace wasn’t slowing down. “Hold it.”

Your eyes twitched, wrestling to keep your orgasm under control. He always loved to play with you like this. You attempted to stabilize your breathing, deep and slow breaths. In…and out. In…and out. Yeah, this wasn’t working when Taehyung’s four-inch fingers were jamming into you. The pressure in your stomach tightened, clenching your abdominals to get your reach. It wasn’t a good girl thing to do, but he was mean!

“Can’t! Please!” You begged once more, knowing it couldn’t be stopped.

“No, be a good girl.”

Sorry, Taehyung but it was too late. Your eyes were already going to the back of your head, and you were prepared for the high of it all. But once you started arching your back, he pulled his fingers and hand away from you. You still had your orgasm but it felt so weak going through it without him helping you come down. Your pussy burned unpleasantly.

He glared at you, watching your lousy orgasm go to waste. All because you didn’t listen to him. But whose fault was that? Taehyung will never take the blame.

Pathetically unsatisfied, you came down and exhaled. It physically and emotionally pained you how shitty that orgasm was. And with a pissed-off Taehyung looming over you, it’ll be torture.

“Bad, bad girl.” Taehyung was disappointed at you, something you grimaced over. “I told you not to but you didn’t it anyway.”

“I couldn’t stop it…” You whispered.

“Couldn’t stop yourself? You really are a fucking slutty bad girl.” Getting slightly self-conscious from his jeering eyes, you closed your legs and covered your chest. Your face flushed with post-orgasm and shame.

Taehyung saw your actions, softening his tough demeanor. He lifted you to the middle of the bed before climbing over your concealed body. At this angle, the moonlight struck his body. Every muscle and indent defined, every wound and bruise visible, every part of him shined so beautifully and perfectly.

His knees spread your legs open to go in between while carefully pulling your arms off your chest. His face goes down to yours, planting little kisses all over your face in hopes he doesn’t make you feel too bad. “Tell me if I go too far, Petal. Don’t hide from me.”

You shook your head, “You’re not. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’ll be good, I promise.”

You were soooo good to him. He smiled tenderly, pecking another on the tip of your nose before the demon smirk came back. “Then you’re still gonna get it. Get on your knees.”

You nodded and were about to twist your body when Taehyung grasped your waist and flipped you over. He pushed down your back, arching your ass up before landing a loud slap to it. You cried into the pillow, hugging it as if it was like your protection. He slapped the other cheek, receiving another reaction from you.

“Since you’re weak at controlling yourself,” He grabbed his thick length. His head played with you, gliding across the slit and collecting your saturation until he aligned it with your hole. He puts a little bit of pressure, enough to make you moan for more but then stopped. “Maybe I should punish you by giving more than what you can handle.”

That was…even worse. But you had to accept it, so you could be the good girl for him.

Knowing he could maim you, he steadily filled you up. You felt every inch of him getting deeper and deeper inside, the stretch of your pussy left a dull ache. He held your hips as he guided himself in. Once he bottomed out, the both of you let out a sigh of relief. Every time you do this, it always felt like the first time because of how big he was.

“So fucking tight, Petal.” He hissed. The sensation of you pulsating had his head thrown back.

After a while, the two of you knew it was time for him to move. Taehyung pulled himself back, leaving his head and then piercing back in. You jolted forward, but he kept you firmly to continue his aggressive yet even pace. Each penetration to your spot left you wailing into the pillow, gripping its covers. The slapping of your skin resonated in your childhood bedroom, the only sound that could be heard other than Taehyung’s heavy breathing and your keens.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Taehyung asked lowly before speeding up his movements, making you louder in the cushion. When he didn’t get the answer that he wanted, he looped your hair around his hand and hauled your upper body until your back pressed to his sweaty chest. You winced in pain but you hooked an arm around his neck.

“I want—unggh, y-yes.” Tears fell on your cheeks. Your neck extended to the side, giving him full access to licking and sucking your skin. “A-am I being a—your good g-girl?”

“You’re such a fucking good girl, Petal. Fucking good girl.” He praised you, muffling into your neck. His other hand kneaded your boob, massaging your nipple between his appendages. You groaned at the added touch. The twist in your stomach rose, sensing another high coming soon. Taehyung noticed you tightening around his ramming shaft, so he slid his hand down to your clit and made circular motions. “Cream around my cock again. Come on, pray to me. Bless my name with your sweet sounds.”

“Taehyung, please, please, ahh.” You breathed heavily, bringing your head back to rest on his shoulder. His length ravaged your insides and his fingers pinched your sensitivity until the knot released. You splashed with blistering ecstasy, almost about to scream at the top of your lungs but his palm covered your pitched sounds. You stifled chants of his name with your rolling eyes, even lapping your tongue over his callous. His thrusts slowed down this time, easing you down. He showered you with compliments, kissing your jaw and cheek.

Once you came back, he took himself out of you to lay you down. He needed to see your face clearly at least once. He grabbed himself and plunged in again. You keened in volume, but Taehyung shushed you. “Babydoll, be quiet. Don’t want your dad to exorcise the both of us.”

You nodded pliantly and slapped hands over your lips. He moved at his previous pace, yet your sensitivity increased after your two orgasms. You were overstimulated but pushed through to help him meet his climax. He handled your hips where it would leave bruises days after. He hunched over to your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling it with his tongue.

His touch was a mixture of all—needy, urgent, warm, cool, rough, and supple. You loved it all, you wanted more of him. You quivered into your palms, muting the uncontrollable noises escaping you.

He popped off your nub. His thrusts jerked faster and sloppier, recognizing how close he was. His resonant whimpers rung through your ears. It was like his thumb was magnetic to your clit because it was on you again and flicking rapidly. You shuttered, shaking your head at the intensity. It was too much. “One more for me, Petal. I wanna feel you, please.”

Darn, he said please. There was no way to deny him. After four more pumps, he buried himself still. He painted your insides white with his cum, whining your name. Meanwhile, you tirelessly came again. Blinding white spots came into your vision, ringing happened in your eardrums. The feeling of scorching euphoria spread all over your body as you curved your spine. Your hands were replaced with Taehyung’s mouth, sluggishly kissing you and keeping you as quiet as possible but let’s be real.

He kissed your lips once more before scooting in between your neck and shoulder to leave more smooches on your perspiring skin. His cum inside electrified you, feeling it flood around. It wasn’t until his softening dick pulled out of you, that the dam of cum seeped out your weeping pussy.

What an immaculate sight that he couldn’t resist.

Your energy-drained body thought it was over. But Taehyung had other plans because once you felt his tongue on your enlarged overloaded clit, you gasped in shock. “Taehyung, can’t anymore!” Your fingers attempted to push him off of you but you were too helpless and fatigued to overpower his strength.

He tasted the concoction of both of your cum, playing with the juice all over you and his mouth. He was addicted to the taste, vibrating another low moan to your clit.

You begged for him to stop, but he wasn’t going to finish until you came one more time. He lets go hastily and said, “Last one. Come on, Petal.”

Then there was your last orgasm. It was weaker than the previous, better than the first, but the most agonizing one. It burned but was so divine. You shoved your face into your cushion, crying away from every sensation and emotion you felt.

Taehyung was finally off of you and went up your body to kiss you again. But you were so lethargic, you couldn’t keep up and lay there like a Twinkie. You didn’t even comprehend how he walked out of your bedroom to look for the bathroom, knowing damn well your parents could see him.

But he made it back alive and unseen with a damp cloth to clean you up. He wiped you clean as you stared at him with so much endearment and swell to your heart even after pounding you like an animal.

After he was done cleaning, he threw the dirtied rag to the ground before climbing back in bed and putting the covers over your naked bodies. “You did so good, ___. My good girl, my favorite girl.” He pressed a kiss on your temple before you fell into slumber.

“___, wake up! We’re gonna be late!” Harsh knocks through your door disrupted your dreams. You groaned loudly, wanting to go back to sleep. “Sweet pea, get dressed!” It was your mom calling for you. You rubbed your eyes sluggishly in your raggedy state and rolled over. With squinting lids, you searched for your phone to check the time.

You overslept, and you panicked a bit. You kept your cool, it was fine. This was a small bump, but you’ll get over it.

Suddenly, something or someone shifted beside you. You turned your head before you were fully awake by your heart dropping down and coming out of your ass. A peaceful hibernating and naked Taehyung was by your side, cuddling your body. No wonder you woke up with furnace-like heat against you.

Immediately, you shot out of your bed to stand up but you completely forgot that after a night with Taehyung, you become temporarily paralyzed from the waist down. So you stood up and your feeble numb legs made you drop to the floor.

“___, are you awake? I heard a noise.” Your mom questioned again.

“Yeah,” you grimaced at how raspy your voice was. “I-I just woke up, I’m sorry.” You crawled towards the other side of the bed where Taehyung was.

“You have 30 minutes! I told you not to stay up late at night! You know…”

You tuned out her lecture because you were trying to wake Taehyung up in fear that you might get caught. “Taetae, wake up.” You were usually so gentle because it took him a while to fully get up but you slapped the shit out of him.

His eyes stammered open in surprise. He bolted awake and in pain. He was about to yell but you covered his mouth as you stared with alarming pupils. “It’s morning, my parents are awake. I need to get ready and you need to leave.”

“___! Are you listening to me? Do I need to open your door to get you ready?” Your mother complained, trying to open your door but it was still locked. “I’m getting the key—”

“No, mommy!” You protested. Both of your heads directed to the door with widened eyes. “I swear I’ll get ready. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Okay…I’m almost done with breakfast.” She announced.

You breathed out in relief, knowing you were clear for now. But once you looked over to the naked man still in your bed, you had another morning task to do. “You need to leave. If I don’t come out in five minutes to go get my teeth brushed, my parents will come to get me out.”

Usually, Taehyung would play around, but he knew this time meant business. He nodded obediently. You rolled away to give him some space to get out and gather his scattered clothes. As he was getting dressed, you watched him.

The bruises, the cuts, and that deep wound were all still there. It made you upset, frowning at the mere thoughts of what Taehyung dealt with before coming to see you. You never liked what business or situation he was in, you didn’t know fully but again, just by looking at it, it was not good.

Taehyung detected your staring, but he was surprised at your sad state. “What’s wrong, Petal?”

“I know I said I don’t wanna know what you do, but it won’t change the fact that I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” You explained. “I’m seeing all of this and I’m worried sick, Taetae.”

He sighed, putting his jacket back on then walking over to pick you up on your feet. You used him as leverage. You acted like a baby dear standing on its legs for the first time, making him chuckle at your struggling state but it was too adorable. “I’m sorry for worrying you. You probably wanted to know what happened and I’ll tell you more about it later, but let’s just say I’m trying to get out of the things.”

Your eyes sparkled with joy, “You are? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

He smiled and shook his head, “I’m not just saying that. I’m serious. I’ve been…in it for a long time but I’ve been also wanting to stop.” You nodded understandingly. “Wanna do this for myself, but for you. I don’t want any of them or other affiliations to find you and use you against our will. It’s not easy, hence why I arrived like this, but it’ll come to an end.”

“Okay,” You grinned sweetly before puckering your lips and waiting for him to come.

He leaned down and accepted you, He circled his arms around your body as he kissed you tenderly. He parted away, foreheads touching. “I’m gonna miss you, Petal.”

“As I said, it’ll only be this weekend. I’ll be back tomorrow night.” You reassured but it wasn’t enough to prevent the pout on his lips. “Come on.”

The two of you walked over to the window. He opened the pane as he prepared his descent. His legs were out hanging, his arms and torso still inside your room. You went over to give him one last kiss for his travels back.

“I’ll miss you too, Taehyung.” You giggled, captivating his entire heart.

Feeling overwhelmed with the thoughts and emotions of you, he blurted out, “I love you so much, ___.” It was the first time either of you said it, and he just realized what he said when his eyes grew the size of saucers and stared at him like he was insane. You were a fish, opening and closing your mouth with no words coming out. You didn’t know how to react, but you definitely felt your heart palpitating briskly.

Before you could finally say anything, he abruptly goes, “Okay, well, yeah bye. See you in psychology class.” He descended as fast as he could, trying to get away as possible. You didn’t even watch him out the window, which was a good thing for him as reached the ground. While walking away, he was mentally screaming at himself and fisting the air at what he did.

You were finally dressed and appropriate for church. You fixed the clip in your hair before walking out of your room and down the stairs. Yet your thoughts were elsewhere and about the boy who was in your room not too long ago.

He said I love you. The fucking bad boy of the town confessed his love for you. What the fuck? First of all, you weren’t even together. You didn’t know what you were, whatever. The only thing you knew was that Taehyung would beat the shit out of any guy that came your way. Second, it was an odd choice to say a confession after a sneaky night at your lover’s childhood house with their parents sleeping at the end of the hallway.

Thirdly, you knew what your feelings were but the little shit didn’t give you a chance to comprehend and tell your side. Ugh, now you have to deal with him opening up once you were back in town.

You reached the kitchen, greeting your parents. Your mom told you to take a seat as she prepared a plate for you. She glanced at you, then took another look intently yet you didn’t seem to notice.

Once seated, your father scrolled his phone for news and reread his notes for his sermon. He gazed up at you, then did a double take before raising an eyebrow yet you didn’t see his stare as your mom walked towards the table with your breakfast.

You were too busy looking down at the settled breakfast before to spot the questionable looks your parents made. Once you were about to devour your eggs and kimchi, your dad stopped you. “What were you doing last night?”

You blinked, “I was on my phone late at night, and did my emotional prayer, remember?” Your father hummed, nodding eerily calmly.

Then your mother spoke up as blunt and knowledgeable as she was. “Then why do you have hickeys all over your neck?”

A/N: There will NOT be a part two :D

#matcha masterlist #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x reader

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ystrike1 · 7 months

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The Tyrant’s Leash Is Held by a Maid - By 박오 (8.5/10)

Is it love, or an unbreakable curse sent down by destiny? Don't worry about it! It can't be reversed. A maid and a prince become Manish and Aradna, which are ancient titles given to the bearers of a great curse. Manish will be unstoppable for his entire life, as long as he has his Aradna. Without her he is doomed to insanity, bloodlust and violence.

Liana is a maid. An actual maid. One without any special privileges. One who has not been treated nicely. She has a young niece to support. She is very smart, but she is only allowed to use her intellect to support a master. She gets the chance to become the personal maid that belongs to Natasha Baldwin. Natasha is beautiful. Her family is noble and wealthy, but her mother is a commoner, so she is not the most lofty master to serve. That doesn't matter to Liana, because Natasha is miles above her, despite her dirty pedigree.

Natasha is currently dating(?) the second prince, Illyd. He is an infamous womanizer. The women who date him never last more than a few months. He is the classic lazy prince with no real responsibilities, because he has an older brother who is the obvious choice for the throne.

Liana is worried. If Illyd abandons Natasha, after dating her so publicly, her reputation will go down. The maids will have to deal with her rage.

Also, Illyd keeps looking at her.

It's weird.

Natasha has a pureborn older sister. One who constantly calls Natasha dirty. Liana gets a raise when she starts serving Natasha exclusively, but she also gets bullied relentlessly. She defends Natasha. Why? Natasha is her master and only loyalty can prove a maid's usefulness. Natasha watches the abuse from a distance. She comes forward to defend Liana only after Liana proves to be very loyal.

They don't become besties.

Natasha notices she's smart and useful.

That's all.

This is the nice guy.

He's not going to win, because Illyd is a cursed yandere. I assume he will be more important later on. The beginning of the story mostly focuses on Natasha, Illyd, and Liana's maid duties.

Foreign prince Arcan, despite all of his kindness and patience, does not stand a chance.

Liana doesn't know a thing.

Illyd and Natasha aren't actually dating. Natasha is trying to destroy the Baldwin family. They're very corrupt, and they have never loved her. She's gunning for revenge. Lord Baldwin intended to sell her off as a bride, because of her beauty, from the start. Natasha doesn't see him as family. She teamed up with Illyd because he's soulless on the inside. He doesn't actually date any women. He just squeezes information out of them. Natasha isn't even his friend. She's more like a business partner. Their sensual relationship is just an act.

Liana gets caught in the crossfire, when Natasha tells her to deliver a love note.

It's not a love note.

Illyd saves her. He hasn't been cursed yet. He's just impressed by her. Drawn to her a little bit. Liana is loyal to Natasha, even when he flirts with her. She doesn't know it, but her sharp wit is a great weapon. Natasha uses it liberally. Liana assists her when it comes to planning and sneaking pretty much by accident.

Natasha gives her another raise later.

After Liana is untied there's a moment. A moment that implies the blood covered prince is genuinely attracted to the maid.

She runs.

The first prince is also present. He's a very good first prince, but he's paranoid. He's scarier than your average evil villain. He doesn't seem stupid, but he's very violent, just like Illyd.

Illyd eventually becomes Manish.

The legend of Manish and Aradna is actually quite simple. It's a well known story. A well known fact. It's not regarded as scary voodoo or anything. Even maid like Liana knows the whole tale.

A wife is created for him. Aradna. She silences the noise, and he can use his powers once more. He vows to prioritize Aradna over all else. He becomes fallible, imperfect, and powerful at the same time. The legend ends happily.

Basically, an all powerful man gets punished with feeling too much. Too much sensation, all the time. He feels his own heartbeat. His breath. His blood too, until he goes crazy. He begs for help. He forgets his hubris. He was the strongest, smartest man before he was punished with endless noise. His punishment reduces him to a wailing mess.

Liana becomes Aradna.

She's terrified. Illyd will go insane without her constant presence, and he's as powerful as a monster. She's afraid of the nobles. She just wanted to make enough money to support her niece. She is attracted to Illyd, but she mostly feels fear.

Especially when his attention lands on her, and it stays there, and he gets frustrated enough to murder when she's out of reach.

#The Tyrant’s Leash Is Held by a Maid #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #otome #otome isekai

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aanoia · 4 months

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I Don't Know Who You're Talking About

Remus Lupin x reader words; 2817 warnings; angst, blood, sad, murder, the usual part two this is so cutesy (NOT!) I wrote this on my phone in the car so if there's any mistakes thats my excuse. Also Y/m/n stands for your/marauders/nickname because ofc you're a Marauder and of course you're an animagus. like duh.

“Remus, it's a full moon tonight, you can't go. We can't risk that.” I persisted, staring holes into the back of the boy's head.

He turned around angrily, “Why does it even matter, Y/n?” He yelled, and a drop of spit flew from his lips. “After everything that's happened, you're gonna stop me from going to that traitors trial?”

“If you're gonna act like this, yes! I am going to stop you.” I yelled back, taking a step towards him as my voice softened. “And we don't know if Sirius was framed or not, he's our best friend. Do you really think he'd do something like this?”

Remus shook his head, his shoulders dropping, “I think it doesn't matter, because James and Lily are dead. And Peter! Someone needs to be punished for it, and all the signs point to him.”

I frowned, “I don't think he did it.”

“Well, you think wrong.” Remus said, turning back around and walking out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

“Remus, I swear to Merlin, if you apparate to the Ministry-” I was cut off by the loud cracking noise of apparition. He didn't even grab his coat.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I said coolly as I sat next to Remus. He shook his head, anger radiating from his skin.

“You're ridiculous.” He muttered and I scoffed.

“There's no way you're taking your frustration out on me, right now.” I flashed a smile at a woman I recognized from Hogwarts, she smiled back sadly. I focused in on the middle of the room, where an empty cage was being rolled out.

“I can't even talk to you. You’re so annoying.” Remus stood up but was stopped as a new cage was rolled in. I gently pulled him back down as we stared at Sirius. He was caged and muzzled like a dog.

Remus squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back. Sirius’ clothes were torn, his usual fancy jacket he stole from his mother covered in dirt and blood. He looked around the room frantically, eyes wide and tears streaming down his cheeks. He made eye contact with me and placed his hands on the bars, silently begging me to believe that he didn't do this, he could never.

I gave him a look of worry as the Minister cleared his throat, “Sirius Black, son of Orion and Walburga Black, you are here today under the accusation of working with He Who Must Not Be Named and the murder of twelve muggles, one witch, Lily Potter, and two wizards, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. How do you plead?”

The moment the muzzle was off his mouth he answered hastily. “Not guilty!” Sirius screamed, his voice shaky and broken. He shook in his cage, “I didn't do it, please! I would never hurt my frie-”

“Silence!” Crouch demanded, holding his hand up, his ring glinted in the candlelight. “We need not hear more.” He scribbled on a piece of parchment and handed it to the boy standing next to him. The boy studied the paper.

He nodded, “Of course, sir.” He left the room quickly.

There were quiet whispers floating around the room, speculating what the young boy could possibly be searching for.

“Now, because there seems to be a lack of witnesses, which I am sure is just how you wanted it to be, unfortunately we cannot blindly believe that you are innocent.” The boy came back into the room, holding a small vial of clear liquid.

“Veritaserum.” Remus mumbled and I nodded.

“It's a good idea.” I whispered.

The vial was brought up to Sirius’ lips, who drank it willingly, thankful to finally have a good alibi.

“I will ask you plain and simply, did you reveal the hidden location of James and Lily Potter to the Dark Lord, resulting in them being murdered and their son orphaned?”

Sirius shook his head, “I did not.” My shoulders relaxed as it felt as if a weight had been lifted. Remus still looked at him coldly, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Did you murder that group of muggles, and your own friend, Peter Pettigrew, leaving behind only his finger?”

“No, I did not.”

The room was silent as Crouch thought. They glanced between the man behind bars and the one upon a podium, his stare belittling. He glanced at the empty bottle on his desk, and back to Sirius before whispering to a man beside him.

I glanced at Sirius who was already looking at us. He gave me a small smile and I returned it.

“It is probable.” The man said quietly, but still in earshot.

Crouch nodded and banged his hammer, “It has been decided. The Veritaserum that was given to was a flake. So, under Mr. Barty Crouch, Minister of Magic, you plead guilty, and are sentenced to life in Azkaban.”

Some people cheered, others let out yells of protest. Remus slipped away, walking out of the room angrily.

“No, that's rubbish.” I yelled as he began to be rolled away. He screamed in fear, going crazy inside of the cage.

I stood up and pushed past people, carefully jumping down to the floor and below the Minister. The room silenced again and the cage stopped dragging across the floor. Everyone had their eyes on me.

“Let me talk to him.”

Crouch looked amused, “Miss-”

“It is only a custom. Tradition, even. You must allow me a word with Sirius Black before you send him off. It's in the books.”

Crouch glanced at the book as the boy flipped to the pages. He sighed as he read the words, telling him that it was indeed allowed for loved ones to speak with the person before they are sent off.

“I'm afraid he cannot be out of his cage, it is not up for discu-”

“I can talk through the bars, can I not?”

“Fine. Follow them.”

I followed them out quietly, ignoring the angry stares I got from people, even the spit that they shot at me, landing right in front of my feet. Once we were in the hall, the men stood to the side and I walked up the cage hastily, putting my hands on the bars.

“Sirius, I'm going to ask you this once, and only once, and I need you to tell me the truth. Whatever you say, I will believe you. Did you or did you not kill James and Lily?”

Sirius looked me straight in the eyes, desperate, “Y/n, please, I would never.”

“It's a yes or no question.”

“No. I didn't.”

I paused, before grabbing his hand through the bars, “I believe you. It's okay, I'll figure this out.”

His eyes filled with tears again and being this close I could see the heavy bags below his eyes. His hair was a ratty mess and his skin was blemished and dirty.

“Did you know she was pregnant?” Sirius asked and my eyes widened.

“She was?”

“Yeah. They were going to tell us all on Christmas, but James let it slip to me.”

I took a deep breath, “Oh my.”

There was a moment of silence between us, neither daring to break the quiet atmosphere.

“Does Remus hate me?” He whispered and my heart broke.

“I don't know.” I answered honestly and he nodded, his eyes averting to the bottom of the cage.

“I didn't kill them. I'd never. He was my best friend, my brother.” Sirius began sobbing. “I've already lost him, and Lily. I've lost my godson. And now Remus. I can’t lose you, Y/n/n, I can’t.” he cut himself off with a gasp.

“It's time to go.” One of the men said, beginning to drag him away.

“I can’t lose you!” Sirius yelled as he was dragged away.

“You won’t.” I whispered before I looked up at the man as he was dragged away, “Sirius! I love you!”

He smiled sadly, “I love you too, Y/m/n!”

I rubbed my hands together quickly as I walked up to the front door. I placed my hand on the freezing knob and opened it, silently cursing myself for not locking it before I left.

It was half an hour until sundown, so I immediately apparated home to help prepare Remus - and myself - for the night. It was probably going to be one of the hardest he's ever experienced, and I felt terrible for him.

“Remus?” I called out, only to get no response. I furrowed my brows taking my jacket off slowly, “Baby, I know you're mad but I still want to help you tonight.” Still, nothing.

I set down my bag and slipped off my shoes before quietly walking to the bedroom.

“Rem?” I asked softly, pushing open the door and expecting to see him sitting on the bed, head between his hands as he cried softly.

But he wasn't. In fact the room seemed to be the same as it was before I left. The bathroom was dark and empty. No sign of Remus anywhere.

I walked to the kitchen, hoping to find him sipping from a mug of tea while staring out the window, like he usually is. But there was nothing.

I slipped on my coat and threw on my shoes, ignoring my bag as I quickly left the house. I pulled out the flip phone Remus had insisted on us getting.

“For easier communication.” He’d say.

I struggled to work the muggle device, but managed to send a quick ‘where r u?!’ text. At this point, the sun was beginning its descent and the full moon shone brightly.

I paused for a moment, thinking of any possible place he could be.

“The Shrieking Shack.” I said quietly to myself, immediately apparating to the raggedy house.

However, just like our own, it was also completely empty, save for one man.

“Professor Dumbledore?” I asked quietly. The older man turned around and smiled gently. I didn't fail to notice the tears he wiped from his cheeks.

“Ah, Miss L/n, or is it Lupin, yet?” Dumdledore asked.

I shook my head, “Not yet, no. But speaking of the man, has he been here?”

Dumbledore looked around, “No, I'm afraid not.” He glanced out of the window, at the light in the darkening sky. “It is a full moon tonight, isn't it?”

I stood beside him with a sigh, “That it is.”

“And the night of Sirius’ trial as well, what unfortunate timing.”

“I'd have to agree.”

“You cannot find him?”

I turned around and leaned against the window sill, “No. We were fighting, before the trial. It's been rough for everyone and we took it out on each other.”

Dumbledore nodded, “Ah, it happens. I suppose, however, you should spend less time with this old man, and more time finding who I would assume to be a werewolf by now.”

I opened my mouth to answer but was cut off by a loud howl. The sun had completely dipped below the horizon, and the werewolves were born.

“Well, it seems you'd be correct.”

“Was that him?” Dumbledore asked.

I shook my head, “No, his howl is deeper. I assume that was a female.”

“Ah.”

I shifted my feet, feeling awkward. “Uhm, I'm gonna go look for him.”

“Take a blanket.” Dumdledore said, handing me a brown bundle of cloth.

“Thank you.”

“Go.”

I nodded and pushed open the door. I sighed at the heavy snowfall, looking into the distant trees. It was going to be a long night.

The tears started as the sun made an appearance again. The weight of everything finally hitting and pressure built behind my eyes.

“Remus, please, where are you?” I called out, my voice hoarse and salty tears slipped into my mouth. I wiped the running snot from my upper lip, my shoulders shaking.

I passed a tree and the bright color of red caught my eye. A blood trail. I followed it eagerly, a small sob leaving my lips and I clutched tightly onto the blanket. It led behind a rock, where my heart broke.

Remus lay there, naked and in a fetal position. He had long cuts all along his body and the snow around him was trained red. He shivered in the snow and his lips were blue.

He glanced at me weakly, sadness filling his eyes. “Y/n.” He whispered, his voice almost non existent.

I snapped out my daze and grabbed onto him, quickly pulling him to his feet and wrapping the blanket around him. He clutched onto me and cried, I cried with him.

I apparated to the house silently and he fell to his knees, I followed him, holding him in the kneeling position.

“It’s okay.” I whispered, biting back my own tears as he sobbed. “It’s okay.”

He cried, “It’s not!”

“Remus, let me clean you.” I said softly, wiping my tears after a few long moments.

“Okay.” He whispered, staring ahead blankly.

It was quiet, again, as I cleaned and bandaged. A few times he'd cry again, and I'd let him, figuring it was better to continue what I'm doing. I led him to bed and closed the curtains so the sun didn't shine through.

“Do you feel better?” I asked quietly once I got into bed.

“I'm not sure I feel much of anything, right now.” Remus said, facing his back towards me.

I looked at him sadly and turned over, closing my eyes and finally letting sleep overtake me.

When I woke up the bed was empty. I sighed, assuming he was in the kitchen or living room. I used the bathroom and walked out of the bedroom. I walked out into the living room.

“Remus?” I asked. He wasn't there. I looked into the kitchen and he wasn't to be seen. The deja vu of the night before was prominent. “Are you serious?”

A note sat neatly on the fridge. I glanced at the magnet, it was a picture of Remus and I smiling wide, faces pressed against each other. We got it from a muggle - or no-maj - vendor when we visited america. I noticed the second one we had was gone. I shook my head and took the note from beneath the magnet.

I immediately recognized the handwriting as Remus’. I stared at the letter, the one assigned to me. The last letter of my name was splotchy, stained with a tear.

I gently tore open the letter.

Dear Y/n,

I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I'm doing what I'm doing. I'm so sorry for what I'm doing.

I am so scared. With James, Lily, and Peter dead, and Sirius in Azkaban, I just don't know what to do.

You mean the world to me. You're perfect, beautiful, intelligent, witty, talented, you're everything good and nothing bad. At this point you are the world for me.

Which is why I have to do this. I can't drag you down to darkness with me, I'd never forgive myself. I know this will hurt you, it's hurting me too, but I also know you can get through this.

I want you to be happy, and I think that's impossible if I’m in your life. So I'm taking the liberty to leave it. My stuff will be magically transported once I find a place to stay, keep the house, you deserve it more than I do.

I love you more than life itself.

with the deepest of regrets,

Remus

P.S. you are worth EVERYTHING! don't ever settle for the bare minimum.

I dropped the letter and stared out of the window. The snow fell gently, piling up on the ground. It felt rather similar to the quiet tears dripping down my face. In the span of four weeks, I had lost everyone important to me. I didn't realize I had any tears left to cry.

I suppose I'll have to get a dog to keep me company now.

“Welcome, Professor L/n.” Dumbledore greeted.

I smiled at the group of teachers that came to welcome me. “Thank you, I appreciate all of you. Especially you, Minnie.” I said with a wink and Professor McGonagall laughed wetly, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

“Okay okay, let's not suffocate her on her first day. Dinner is in an hour, I trust you to find your room.” Dumbledore said and I nodded as the teachers dispersed.

“Severus.” I called out and the man stopped in his tracks. I walked over as he turned around and pulled him into a tight hug. He looked at me weirdly once I pulled away. “I know you loved her too.”

He knew exactly who I was talking about, “I have no idea who you're talking about.”

“I know you don't.” I smiled and began walking towards my room.

“I’m sorry about Lupin.” He said and I paused.

“I have no idea who you're talking about.”

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starzioo · 2 months

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓.

So I’m going to preface this by giving you literally the biggest angst warning that you could ever possibly have. I’ve been having a bad writers block and angst is literally the only thing I can write rn idk why. Even though I lowkey teared up while reading over this I hope you like it as much as I do lol.

5.1K WORDS

WARNINGS: HEAVY ANGST, CHARACTER DEATH, BLOOD.

Play this when you see the ♫ symbol.

You've never given much thought to how you would die. But dying in the place of someone else sounded pretty good.

You're sprinting down the corridors of Hogwarts, making any turn you could take that would maybe lead you to help. Your lungs felt tight, your air ways were burning. With spells being casted at you barely missing you by a hair each time. You fired back, but missed. The black haired woman running after you letting out vicious cackles with each spell. Your legs were becoming sore from the dodging and running, you wanted to just let your legs give out and let her take you life. This was torture. Running from your own mother. You had betrayed the Dark Lord, and now you had to pay the consequences.

Over the precious summer you had received your dark mark. You had been avoiding it. Your mother, Bellatrix Lestranged was locked up in Azkaban, or so you thought. Until the day you and Draco had returned to Malfoy manor from Hogwarts hoping to have a good summer. The second you and Draco had gotten out of the car Narcissa had you and him in a hug. A distraught look on her face. "The dark lord is here..." She said looking at the ground. You and Draco's once content faces now covered in confusion and worry, you share glances. "He would like to see you both." She took you and Draco by your hands, gently guiding you to the front doors of the manor. You all walk in frigid silence to the entrance of the study. Your breath had become shallow. You still hadn't seen him but you could feel his presence in the home. Narcissa gave your hands a light squeeze before the doors to the study opened. The Dark Lords disciple ushering you two in, leaving Narcissa in the hallway.

You and Draco stand in the middle of the study, hand in hand. Neither of you dared to say a word. You were looking at the ground, hoping for all of this to be a nightmare. Wanting this to just all go away with a blink of the eye. "My my, Y/n...my blood certainly does live within you." Bellatrix says stepping up to you dragging her wand down your jawline, practically forcing you to look at you. Your breath halts at the touch of her wand. Your eyes meet hers. You didn't dare to utter a word. Draco squeezes your hand. "As so does mine..." The Dark Lord says finally turning around in his chair. Your eyes immediately go back to the ground. "That is why you are both here today. As of today you will be my disciples. My spy's." His breathy dried voice says as he fiddles with his wand. Suddenly Bellatrix roughly grabs your arm and drags you infront of the Dark Lord. Your breath is still. You knew what was about to happen. There was no way you could've possibly prepared for this. There was no way you could've ever denied it. You turn your head to look at Draco who stands still, his eyes were glazed with tears looking back at you. Bellatrix grabs the hem of your sleeve and pulls it up to your elbow. Ripping your attention off Draco back to the lizard like man(?) sitting infront of you.

Without saying a word his wand presses deep into your arm. Within an instant you feel a burning sensation all down your arm. It was enough to make you drop to your knees. Tears started to flow down your face. Your face scrunched at the pain that was being inflicted on you. You tried to pull away out of the grasp of your mother. Only for her to pull harder and squeeze your wrist to the point of bruising. "Please! Let me go!" You cried. "Shut it!" Bellatrix yells cruelly. The sensation that ran through your arm felt like wildfire, as if your blood was poison, disintegrating your veins as it flowed. You let out a scream as the infliction was now at its peak. "Please! Make it stop!" You screamed trying to escape the woman's grasp, only to receive a forceful yank. Your screams filled the room until the pain finally subsided. Leaving your arm feeling as if you had been electrocuted.

Your eyes finally open, with tears streaming you look down at your arm. A sight you never wanted to see, the dark mark laid deep within your skin like a tattoo. Your breath was heavy, you turn to look at Draco, his eyes icy eyes now filled with fear. Bellatrix forces you to stand up so she can examine your arm. "Never refuse the Dark Lord like that again!" She yells into your face. "I'm sorry my lord." You say shakily, not daring to look him in his eyes. "You may go now." He says waving his hand. A strong man grabs you by your arm and takes out of the room shoving you into the hallway. A worried ridden Narcissa practically runs to you and embraces you. Her warm motherly hug induced the tears to flow out of your eyes again. Although Narcissa wasn't your biological mother she was more of a mother Bellatrix could've ever been. She cared for you like her own. You lean into her arms holding your now tattooed arm close to your chest. 'Shhhshhh.' She lightly lets out as you cry softly into her chest. Not a moment later you both hear Draco's cries from the study. You both freeze at the sound. You just tuck your head into Narcissa.

After you had both gotten your dark marks more and more death eaters seemed to fill the house. The fun filled summer that you had dreamed of was now a nightmare. A dark aroma had filled the house. You stayed in your room unless told to come out. The house elves bringing you dinner and always bringing you your mail. The death eaters that filled your home had made you uncomfortable and uneasy. The place you once felt most content and safe was now degraded to the house you merely slept in. Over the summer you and Draco had spent a lot of time together inside your rooms. Bonding over the trauma. You thought of Draco as a brother, and he thought of you as his sister. You two were close, growing up you were the only ones there for each other. And it had been that way until a charming Theodore Nott had gotten close with Draco. Draco had always had his group of friends at Hogwarts but he was different. As he and Draco grew closer he became more friendly to you. He was quite charming and flirty towards you but that's just the way he was. You thought he was like that with everyone till one night when you and Draco were in the common room reading he pointed out that Theo only acted like that towards you. That was in fourth year. After that you had started noticing all the little things he did for you. Walking you to class, carrying your books, plating food for you at dinner. All the little things you never noticed were now seen very clear. You and Theo had grown close as friends seeming to always be together. Over that summer you had wrote each other and at one point he had even asked you to travel to Rome with him. Of course you agreed. On that trip you had shared your first kiss, and since then you had been dating. 'Puppy love' Lucius called it, but you knew it was real.

The feelings that you and Theo shared with each other went way deeper and beyond than what anyone could see. What you two had was something only seen in movies. The unconditional and genuine connection between you two was something many people can only wish for. Time seemed to fly by with him, what felt like minutes would be hours. Just having him by your side was enough for you. Whether it was as a friend or boyfriend. You knew it was nothing short of real. You and Theo both yearned for nothing more than to spend every waking moment together. Never getting tired of each other.

You were now going into your sixth year at Hogwarts although surrounded by people that loved you, you've never felt more alone. Ever since being ridden with the dark mark you and Draco had secluded yourselves from the group. Even Theo. He knew about your new allegiance to the Dark Lord but what he didn't know was that you and Draco had received tasks to complete. While Draco had to fix a vanishing cabinet, you had to place Madam Rosmerta under the Imperius curse. You would then instruct her to place a girl, Katie Bell, under the Imperius curse aswell. Madam Rosmerta would then instruct Katie to take the Opal Necklace to Dumbledore. You knew Katie, she was a sweet Gryffindor she was quite smart and quite on her feet. She played quidditch, and she was in multiple of your classes all throughout your years at Hogwarts. Knowing that you would have to curse her made your heart ache. You never were actually friends with Katie but the gut wrenching thought of cursing her had made you nauseous.You've never used an unforgivable before. Never once. Nor had you ever thought about it. Seeing that Draco was having troubles with the vanishing cabinet you decided to postpone your task for as long as possible.

Your task was all that had been on your mind. The mere thought of doing such a cruel thing had been toying with your mind. If anyone found out how could anyone forgive you? Madam Rosmerta was a mother, she was a figure of welcome to Hogsmeade. Katie was someone's daughter, someone's sister. You can't imagine someone doing such a thing to Narcissa or Draco, so how could you? Those thoughts crowded your mind until the day came that Draco told you he had fixed the cabinet. Those words came crashing down on you like bricks. You knew it was time.

You had snuck into The Three Broomsticks through the back door. You waited until the absolute perfect time when Madam Rosmerta was in the back room grabbing something. You were tucked behind the door with your wand shaking in your hand. "Imperio" you uttered. Madam Rosmerta seemed to pause. Her body was still for a moment, she seemed robotic in a way. She turned around to see you. "Act as you would normally. Pretend you never saw me. Place this is the girls restroom for Katie Bell to find. Place Katie Bell underneath the Imperius curse and instruct her to take the box to Dumbledore. She will act as normal." You whisper looking into the woman's eyes. You hand her a box that was wrapped in a cover. "You will not open the box at any given moment." All she does is nod with her usual warm smile. You had been rehearsing those words for weeks. You swiftly made your way out of the back door. It was done. Your task had been completed. You back up into the cobblestone wall behind you. That same nauseating feeling came back. You couldn't believe what you had just done. Your task was supposed to be the very task that would lead to Dumbledores demise. You felt as if someone had knocked the breath out of you. No amount of words could describe the guilt that you felt at that moment.

You ran back to the castle to inform Draco that your task was done. Once you had got there you practically bursted into Draco's dorm. Your eyes were swelled with tears. He immediately stood from his chair with worry. "I-Draco. I did it." Your voice was small and shaky. He engulfed you in a hug. Draco was rarely ever seen hugging other people or showing any form of affection but with you it was different. He cared for you as if you were his little sister. You sunk into his comfort. "It had to be done Y/n..." he says as he tries to calm you. Your hands your covering your face you tucked into Draco. "What had to be done?" A familiar deep voice said from the doorway. You immediately turn around to see Theo standing with a worried expression. Your eyes were filled with tears and your face was blotched pink. Draco rests a reassuring hand on your arm, "It's nothing Nott." He says shortly. "No, It's not just nothing Draco. Y/n, what's wrong?" He says as he finally comes into the dorm room to talk to you. "Theo it doesn't concern you..." Draco says once again speaking for you.

Your eyes were trained on the ground, you couldn't bare to look Theo in the eyes after what you had done. "It concerns me if Y/n is standing here crying and not speaking! She's obviously shaken up." He says lightly raising his voice at Draco. "Y/n, talk to me, what's wrong?" Theo says gently grabbing your hands. His eyes glancing all around your face trying to read the situation. You knew you couldn't tell him. Even though Theo's father was a death eater the Dark Lord made it very clear that no one could know about you and Draco's tasks. You didn't even know how Theo would react to the fact that you had not only Imperiused one but two people. Your breath was trembling and so were your hands. Your eyes were looking everywhere else but at Theo, his eyes were doing the very opposite. "I-" You were about to speak but the words were caught on your tongue. No matter how badly you wanted to tell Theo you knew you couldn't. Telling him would only put him in danger. "I can't tell you...I'm sorry.." You say taking your hands out of Theo's grasp and quickly walking out of Draco's dorm.

You practically ran back down the halls to get to your dorm. Theo followed quickly behind. You had barely gotten into your dorm with Theo just seconds late. You closed the door quickly. You couldn't face him. The guilt you bared was too much. He banged on the door. "Y/n! Please just talk to me baby, I'm worried." He yelled from the other side. Your back faced the door and you slid down it. "Theo just go away." You said trying to fight off the burning sensation in your throat. "Y/n I'm not leaving till you talk to me. We've barely spoken in weeks. Please baby I'll fix whatever I did." He said pleadingly. "Theo it's not you. I just. It's just something I can't talk to you about, okay? It's for your own good that you stay as far away from this as possible." You cried. A sudden silence comes from Theo's side. "Is this about him?" His voice now serious. You immediately knew who Theo meant by 'him'. You stayed silent, you buried your face into your hands. "Y/n...Whatever this is. I need to know. Please just talk to me." He says trying the doorknob one more time. You take a deep breath and stand up.

You slowly open the door, Theo comes in and wraps his arms around your waist placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Now tell me what's wrong." He said walking to your bed and sitting down. You close the door and sit next to him. "Theo I can't tell you...I swore..." You voice breaks. His hand lays on your knee. "Y/n I already told you that I'm not leaving with you telling me." He says bluntly. "Theo I can't...you don't understand. I wish I could! I-" You instantly get cut off when Pansy enters your room.

"Y/n, you'll never guess what just happened to Katie Bell!" Pansy says frantically as she walks in. You froze. Your face completely drops hearing her name. What happened? What could've went wrong? Did she touch the necklace? Did it ever get to Dumbledore? Your mind is flooded as you just stare into nothing. Tears streaming down your face. "I-I-" Pansy just stands at the door utterly confused on the sight infront of her. "Pansy...You should go..." Theo says walking up to the door and slightly guides her out. "Y/n. Does this have to do with Katie?" Your eyes shot from where they were up to him. Hearing her name made you feel disgusted with yourself. Your mouth just fell agape trying to form words. "What happened to Katie?" "I...I don't know." Nothing should've happened to Katie. She should've just delivered the necklace to Dumbledore and that should've been it. If something happened to Katie then that meant your task wasn't fulfilled. "My task." You whisper, thinking aloud. "What task, Y/n? What did he tell you to do?!" He finally sits back down next to you. "He...I..I had to Imperio Madam Rosmerta and Katie..." You whisper. He fell silent. "What..." "Nothing was supposed to happen to Katie! I swear! I don't know what happened! I- She was supposed to give the necklace to Dumbledore!" Your head falls into your hands. "Y/n...are you talking about the opal necklace?" You just leaned into him hugging him, he reciprocated. "Y/n I need you to calm down so you can tell me what exactly happened." He says softly.

After about 10 minutes you had finally calmed down. Over those ten minutes you still hadn't fully built up the confidence to tell Theo exactly what you did. It didn't matter regardless because he was patient with you. Ofcourse he ended up comforting you, telling you there was no other choice. It was either you or her. You still hadn't figured out that Katie had been taken to St. Mungos. So the overwhelming guilt still hung over your head taunting you. Theo stayed with you for the rest of the day. You were filled with worry. Your task wasn't complete. But that wasn't the reason you were in the predicament you were in.

"Luna!" You shouted as you saw her fighting off two Death Eaters. Many people didn't like Luna because they thought she was weird and quite out of it. But you saw past that. She had such a kind soul. She was that one person that you knew would never judge you for anything. You two were friends you couldn't just stand back and let her die. "Expelliarmus!" You knocked one of the Death Eaters wands out of their hand. He immediately turned around. "Levioso!" You had picks up the man and slammed him into the wall. He was knocked out. You immediately run to Luna who was still fighting the Death Eater. He was firing unforgivable curses at her like it was nothing. "Bombarda!" The man was bombarded into the stone wall. "Luna are you okay?" You rushed to her. "Yes, I'm quite fine actually. Thank you." She said with her usual contentment but slightly out of breath. "Cmon we gotta go before they wake up." Although the men were knocked out it wouldn't be long before someone found them and woke them up. You and Luna run down the corridors trying to find someone to group with. That's when you saw it. Bellatrix was practically terrorizing a group of younger students who were hiding. She was yelling at them firing spells trying to get them to tell her where Harry Potter was. Why would they know? She knew they didn't know. She just wanted to traumatize as many students as she could. You weren't thinking. These were just kids? "Expelliarmus!" You casted at Bellatrix. She spun around like a mad woman. When she saw you with Luna behind you her face told you everything you needed to know. She was going to kill you.

You fired a couple offensive spells at her before taking off running. You were trying to lead her as far away from the 1st and 2nd years as possible. You left Luna with the kids, you knew they were in good hands.

All while you were running for your life Theo was running to find you. You had left him to go find Draco but obviously that never happened. He had got to Draco but now he needed to find you. You were his only concern. "Y/n!" He shouted as he looked for you.

"Y/n! You little slimy brat! You're a disgrace to the bloodline!" She yelled. "CRUCIO!" That's when it hit you. Your now limp body fell to the ground. Within a second every single nerve in your body was being tortured. Knives were being pierced into every inch of your skin. A blood curdling scream being let out from your throat. You felt fire in your veins. The woman cackled at the sight. You've never felt such pain in your life. "Please! Stop!" Your voice cracking. Your face contorted with the pain. The torturous stabbing didn't stop. You were loosing your breath. The white hot knives consumed every cell in your body. Your screams echoed and bounced off the walls of the corridor. She kneeled down next to your face. "It's what you deserve." She spat and stood. "Sectumsempra!" The woman yelled as she slashed her wand at you. The piercing stopped but was replaced with what felt like millions of tiny knives cutting into your skin. This time you actually bled.

Your screams continued as the woman looked down at you grimacing. You wanted to grab your wand and kill the woman. Your wand laid multiple feet from you, no matter how much you wanted to grab it you couldn't. Your body was limp as if someone tranquilized you. The woman smiled at you and began to walk away. "You were never a mother to me. You're gonna die today and after that you're going to rot." You managed to let out. She turned on her heels. "Oh no dear...only one of us is going to die today, and it's not gonna be me." She laughed. The echoes of someone calling your name had caught your attention. You saw him come around the corner, but only for a second before you blacked out.

♫

"Y/n, Y/n, baby, please, please, please. Wake up." A small shaky voice above you said. You felt tears dropping onto your face. Your eyes waveringly opened. Your vision was blurry, unable to focus. Your entirely limp body was in the hands of Theo. One of his arms around your back, his other hand was on your face. Draco stood behind him. His face covered in grief. You could've sworn this was a hallucination. Your hand lifted off the ground to touch his face. The connection made it real. You couldn't feel your body. Theo's eyes were glazing and an indescribable look rested deep within. "Y/n..." His shaky voice was laced with relief. Your eyes wondered down to your own body.

The once unstained white cotton shirt that fitted your body was washed red. A pool of wine colored liquid flooded the cold stone ground beneath you. You were choking on the air that filled your lungs. "Th..Theo" Your eyes let down a stream. "Please make it stop." Your voice croaked. An overwhelming amount of fear washed over your body. You've never thought about how you would die. You always thought after Hogwarts you would go on to bigger things with Theo. You always imagined getting married being a classic bride. A big white lacy dress with flowers and a veil. Walking down the aisle watching Theo shed a few tears with Lucius walking you down the aisle. After that you would've moved into Nott Manor. A few years later you would bare children. Every night you would tuck them in and read them stories. You would watch your kids grow up and one day send them off to Hogwarts to carry on the legacy. Watching them grow and prosper as young witches and wizards. After they run off and get married you and Theo would've moved to Italy together. To a home that overlooked the ocean side. Having a candlelit dinner together every night. You two would've grown old together in peace. Every dream of yours was now ripped away out of your grasp by no other than your own mother.

You had just been staring up at Theo. Your ears finally stopped ringing and you got pulled back into reality. He was now fully crying over you. You looked past Theo to see Draco who was sitting on the ground leaning his head against the wall. His once pale skin was now covered in blotches of red. His white button down was covered in your blood. "Draco..." Your small breathy voice whispered. All of his attention immediately went to you. Within a second he was beside Theo looking down at you. Cold tears that covered their eyes dripping down on to you. "Y/n don't go, please. You're the only sister i've ever had. Please" His voice sounded shattered. He held your hand tightly as if you were hanging on a cliff, his grasp being the only thing keeping you from falling. "I...I love you both, more than anything. Please don't ever forget that." You were slowly losing your breath. Your body held onto whatever air you could let it.

You were beginning to feel that cold sensation that everyone always talked about feeling before dying. Cloudiness filled your head you couldn't even form a coherent thought. Your eyes fluttered up at the both of them. "I love you both more than you would ever know." You felt your body getting weaker by the second. The pool beneath you only growing. You felt a liquid creep up your throat. You tasted the metallic. You wanted to speak. You wanted to tell them how much you loved them, and how you never wanted for this to happen. You wanted to take all your wrongs back. At first it came thick the metal tasting liquid swirled your tongue. Your breath was completely lost. No matter how hard your lungs fought for air the liquid just continued to fill them. The blood trickled down your lips. You took your last jagged breath. Draco’s grip on your hand tightened at the sight. Theo tucked his lips between his teeth. Your vision went completely blurry before going black. The hand that was being held by Draco going lifeless. Your life had slipped away from their grasp. “Y/n….” Theo’s voice croaked. His hand brushed through your hair. He knew it was coming and that it was inevitable. By the time they got to you there was no way to reverse it.

Your eyes that once held a sparkling looking now faded and blank. He sobbed as he watched the light fade away from your eyes. Your fragile cold body laid in his arms. He rested his head down onto your blood ridden chest. His mind was flooded with the soft memories of you. He couldn’t stand the thought of having to live the rest of his life without you. His mind recalled every second he spent with you. All the regrets he had filled his body. All the times he got mad at you or shunned you after a fight. All he wanted to do was to take those things back. He wanted to apologize and plead for your forgiveness. He wanted to tell you he loved you more than the world. He had told you that he would protect you with his life. He had failed. His body yearned for your warm touch, your smile, your soft voice that always told him how loved he was. After all the grief of losing his mother you were his cure. You were his escape from all the pain. The countless nights he cried into your chest, just as he did now. Except this time you weren’t hugging him. Or telling him that it’s okay. This time you couldn’t usher him with your soft words. He sobbed uncontrollably into your cold chest. No matter how much he wanted to stop he couldn’t.

Draco stared down at your cold eyes with an unseeing gaze. His hand still held your unresponsive one. You were his sister unbiological or not. All the anguish you experienced together is was held you two together. You were what helped him keep going all throughout his trauma. The loss of you played with his heart. His soul felt an immense lonely feeling. He lost himself along with you. You were his light in the darkness. You weren’t blood but your unwavering love and loyalty to him is what made you family. He closed his eyes as hard as he could hoping to wake up. Hoping to wake up in his bed to forget this. Wishing it was all just a cruel nightmare. So he could go walk to your dorm and give you a hug. He wanted nothing more than to speak to you one last time. To joke around and laugh together again. To sit in the common room and read together. To listen to you talk and ramble on about your date with Theo and how it went. The loss of you to him was losing a piece of his own life.

You had slipped away and took a piece of their souls with you.

==============

Hope you liked this piece. <3

145 notes · View notes

jennay · 9 months

Text

Misunderstood

Request:

I wanna request rory culkin in lords of chaos being in his record shop and seeing a not so normal customer for such a shop, he sees a pretty girl wearing her pretty mini sundress having her cute makeup and hair done, she looks all dolled-up ykyk. she basically goes there to buy something for her brother but she's so not into it, she so shy and "scared" to go there but she eventually does it and like euro kinda finds it adorable even tho everyone there is teasing her (AH IDK IF THAT MAKES SENSE LMAO, I just need fluff and cuteness and yk maybe a little spicy teasing IDK HEHEHE! hope u have a great day!!!)

Master List

An: I Hope this is what you wanted!

Words: 1700

Warnings: None. Maybe shit talking?

Shivers ran down your spine as you walked down the dark, dirty street. Why your brother thought it was a good idea to send you to this part of town was beyond you. You understood his foot was broken and needed someone to run errands for him, but you didn't belong with the people he associated with. You weren't into death metal, didn't wear all black, and you definitely didn't rage against the machine. You were quite the opposite. You enjoyed your colorful wardrobe and bubbly music and were more of a rule follower. You NEVER got in trouble or put yourself in a bad situation.

You had heard rumors about the record store and its owner. Some said he was a cult leader who performed rituals in the basement. Others said he was a serial killer who lured unsuspecting customers into his trap. Others said he was a vampire who fed on the blood of young girls like you. He wasn't twenty-five, but innocent people's blood kept him youthful.

Of course, you didn't believe those stories, but you still felt uneasy as you approached the store. It looked like a rundown shack, with faded posters and graffiti covering the windows. The neon sign flickered and buzzed, spelling out "Rock 'n' Roll Heaven." You wondered if that was meant to be ironic or ominous.

You pushed open the door and stepped inside. The smell of dust and mold hit you like a wave. You saw rows of shelves filled with records, tapes, and magazines. You also saw posters of rock stars and bands, some of who you recognized and others you didn't. The place was dimly lit by a few lamps and a jukebox that played an old song you couldn't name. Where the hell did you step into?

You walked along the aisles, scanning the labels and covers. You could feel a few different sets of eyes on you, and you tried to keep your head down but glanced up a few times with an awkward smile, hoping they didn't come toward you.

One man stood at the counter pretending to read a magazine, but his eyes would flick to you. He'd nudge his buddy and whisper something you couldn't hear, making you anxious.

"Sweetheart. I think you stepped into the wrong place." One of them says, staring at you. "You need to go to the record store on Broadwater. They have all that bubble gum pop shit you're probably looking for." You notice his piercing blue eyes carving into your soul, and you try to look away, but it's a trance. His long black hair hangs in his face, and deep down inside, you want to remark how he should stop wearing women's clothing and grow up, but the rumor of him eating people comes back to your mind, and you keep your mouth shut.

You find the name of the band your brother had mentioned, and there are several different pieces of vinyl, each from a different year. Why didn't he tell you the name?

"Do you not talk?" Another one calls from the counter.

You look up at him again, blushing, "I do. I'm just looking for something, and I'll be out of here." Your eyes return to the records, and you grab the newest one. Your brother was a collector, and it was more than likely he wanted the more recent item.

You hear his footsteps walking around the counter, and just to your luck, the bigger one is coming toward you. The one who looks like he might attack you.

He walks up to you with a smirk on his face, holding a cigarette in his hand. He blows smoke in your direction, making you cough. He looks at the record you're holding and snorts. "You're kidding me. You're buying this crap?" He grabs the record from your hand and examines it. "This is their latest album. It's garbage. They sold out to the mainstream. They lost their edge. They used to be good back in the day." He points to another record on the shelf. "This is their first album. This is where it all started. This is real music." He hands it to you and takes back the one you had chosen. "Trust me, kid. You'll thank me later." He winks at you and returns to the counter, leaving you speechless and confused.

Kid? You weren't a child.

You cautiously walk to the counter, noticing two of the three men sitting in the corner watching some gory horror movie, and you do your best not to make a face at it.

You try to play it cool like you weren't in your favorite red and white sundress that you'd just bought, you weren't wearing the cutest sandals you'd ever seen, or you didn't get dolled up for the day knowing where you were going.

You tried to ignore the stares and whispers of the other customers, who looked at you like you were an alien. But you knew you couldn't fool anyone.

"You're brave walking in here looking like that. You look like you got lost on your way to the Barbie convention." He sounds playful, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt your feelings.

You bite your lip, wishing he would just tell you how much you owe him, but he seems amused with you and taking his time. He grabs the record with a smirk and taps on the cash register.

He looks at you with a mock surprise and says, "That'll be a hundred bucks, please." He chuckles and adds, "Just kidding. It's only twenty. But I'll take a hundred if you want to tip me for my excellent service." He winks at you and holds his hand, waiting for your payment.

Your eyes deaden at his joke; you don't find him amusing. He hands you the record, still smiling as you walk away from him.

"Hey, I'm gonna take a smoke break." He tells the others and follows behind you. Was he following you?

Part of Euronymous felt guilty for the way he was acting. He didn't want to admit it, but that was his best attempt at flirting, and he failed miserably. "Hey, wait up." He says, catching you before you cross the street.

You stop, looking back for a second before you sigh and drop your shoulders, "Why so you can continue to be an asshole to me?"

He runs his fingers through his hair, holding his cigarette to his lips. "I wasn't. I didn't…Look, I think your style's cool. I, uh, I don't know how to talk to pretty girls." He admits.

Your brows scrunch together with confusion; you aren't sure what his game plan is. "I'm not really into Satanists or cult leaders, so you don't have to waste your time apologizing to me or trying to make me feel better about myself. I think you're tacky, just like your store."

He looks hurt by your words, but he doesn't give up. "Well, I'm neither of those things." He pulls his cigarette from his lips, "This is weird and I know this is weird, because I'm weird, but, let me at least walk you to your car. It's getting late and I'd feel like a shithead if something happened to you."

You hesitate, not sure if you should trust him or not. He doesn't look like a bad guy, just a misunderstood one. But you've heard stories about people like him, who pretend to be friendly and turn out to be monsters. You don't want to be another victim. "I'm walking to my brother's house, and I'd prefer you not to know where I stay." You tell him, but part of you wants to take his offer. It's creepy at night, and you have no way to protect yourself if something was to happen.

He remains quiet, watching you rethink what you just told him. Why did you tell him that? He could easily follow you and find out where you live. You curse yourself for being so stupid. "If I let you walk me home, promise not to stalk me?" You ask him, hoping he's not lying.

His laughter rings in your ears, "I won't stalk you. Between my band and owning the shop, I don't have time to stalk anyone plus, if you want to see me, you know where I work." He playfully winks. "Come on, let's go. I promise I'll behave." He smiles at you with a charming grin that makes your heart flutter. You wonder if he's as bad as you thought or just a lonely soul looking for company. You decide to give, hoping you won't regret it later.

You make small talk, asking him about his band. He tells you that his band is called Mayhem and plays black metal, an extreme and controversial music genre.

"I'm glad you came in today. I know it can be a bit over the top, and I'd be lying if I said we weren't being judgemental dicks." He laughs, his eyes dart to you nervously, waiting for your response, but you continue to watch the sidewalk. "I hope part of you doesn't believe I'm what everyone says."

You tilt your head up, looking at him with curiosity. You wonder why your opinion would matter. "I think you're misunderstood but you kind of like it that way."

He shrugs and takes a drag from his cigarette. "I do enjoy being a rebel and an outcast. I like making people uncomfortable it's entertaining to see how fearful people are." He exhales the smoke and looks at you with a smirk. "But maybe I also like surprising people and showing them that I'm not a monster. Maybe I like being normal and human."

"You know, nice doesn't look bad on you. You should try it more often." You're able to genuinely smile at him this time. "Well," You say, stopping in front of the apartment doors. "This is it." You don't know how to end this interaction. It's not like this was a date or a friendship.

He nods, "Alright, I'll see you around?"

You shrug with a playful smile as you open the door, "Maybe."

He throws his hands in the air as he walks away from you, "I'll take it!" He says, his voice full of excitement. He looks back at you and gives you a thumbs-up, making you laugh, and he disappears into the night, leaving you with a story to amuse your brother with and a memory that might make you return to the 'scariest' record store in town.

#rory culkin #euronymous #lords of chaos #euronymous x reader #fluff #euronymous x you

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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 years

Text

An Exercise in Mary Sue

(story under the cut)

This week’s short story is more of an exercise. I’ve seen a lot of discussion lately about “cringe-y” YA as more and more authors self-publish or get popular via social media.

When I was a teenager and just started writing, one of my biggest fears was creating a Mary Sue. Mary Sues were very Bad and could get you bulled online. They were too powerful, too beautiful, too not-like-other-girls. People would look down on writers who incorporated these elements into the MC and tell them to stop writing entirely.

Now, in my late 20s, I’ve been thinking about that time in my life more and more. Writing was my hobby, sure, but reading was my escape. And, as a teen, I wanted to escape. I wanted to read about characters who were all-powerful, who were confident, who were loved and respected. I wasn’t getting that fulfillment in my daily life, but I was getting that from books.

So why, when I loved reading them so much, was I so afraid of writing Mary Sues?

I don’t think there’s anything wrong in wanting to read or wanting to write an over-powered character. But I’ve come to the realization that it’s HOW you do it that matters. The biggest legitimate criticism against these types of characters is that they’re not believable. How does a teenager defeat a Dark Lord with fifty years of experience? Why does the orphan know how to wield a lightsaber better than those who’ve trained with it for a lifetime? Why is the prophesied hero wittier than the Generals who’ve been planning this battle all along?

“Mary Sue” stories are always missing an explanation. They “tell” rather than “show.” That style of writing never allows a reader to fully engage and forces them to remain in a critical position. There’s no information for the reader to work with! That’s a really frustrating experience and, as a connoisseur of the Mary Sue, it’s one I know well.

I rebel against the idea of “cringe” in writing. So this week I wrote the opening to a YA book with aaaall the hallmarks of a Mary Sue.

Our main character (Junipera, of course) is the most powerful vampire in her Family despite being one of the youngest. She has long silver hair and black eyes that turn red when she’s angry. She is gorgeous and seemingly all-knowing. She’s contemptuous of those around her and effortlessly outwits them no matter the situation. She is Edgy and Arrogant and everything I have tried not to write for most of my life.

BUT I sort of love how she turned out?

As I’ve worked on pulling together two books to release over the next few weeks, this has been extremely soothing for me. I’ve managed to keep finding the joy in writing because of this exercise and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Or, at the very least, I hope that those of you who may be skeptical are given a different angle to think about Mary Sues and their place in literature.

Thanks for reading!

She should have at least changed clothes before falling on top of the covers last night.

Junipera pinches the bridge of her nose without getting up. Her black button-down shirt sticks unpleasantly to her side and the scent of iron fills the air. She doesn’t need to move her legs to know that her jeans are similarly soaked alongside her black, leather boots. She’d been so tired last night that getting into bed with blood-stained clothing had seemed a good compromise to falling asleep in the shower.

Of course, she didn’t know she’d be having a visitor this morning. Or, rather, another one.

The knock comes right on time. Firm and loud in the quiet of the early morning. Junipera’s lip curls. Impetuous. If she was in her territory, no one would dare knock like that on her bedroom door after a late night. They wouldn’t dare to knock at all.

But she isn’t in her territory, is she?

“Come in.”

The door – pale pine with brass hinges, ornate as all things are here – glides open. The woman who slips into her room, softly closing the door behind her, is as familiar a face as any in this place. The “assistant” the Raven Family assigned to her when she first arrived is very good at looking harmless. Her wide, clear eyes are soft as they take in the dishevelment of Junipera’s room. If she has an opinion on the bloody footprints leading from the shattered window to the bed, she doesn’t show it. As an assassin, Madison is probably used to blood.

She should look surprised at least. Junipera sits up, wincing as her long, silver hair sticks to the pillow. A shower would have at least saved her hair from the matts of dried blood in it. If she liked Madison better, she’d tell her that before one of the Ravens noticed that she wasn’t very good at keeping her cover.

“Ma’am,” Madison says. Her voice is neutral and calm, but her lips are thin as she looks over Junipera’s boots. ��You aren’t to go out.”

Ten years ago, Junipera would have laughed out loud at that. Hell, in her territory she might have at least smiled. But Junipera has been playing this game a lot longer than Madison knows.

Junipera hunches in on herself. Her vampiric complexion won’t let her blush, but she ducks her head against Madison’s gaze and averts her eyes. “I was hungry.”

“That’s what the servants are for,” Madison says. A note of disapproval rings in the words. Madison is getting comfortable. “They would have brought you something if you called for them.”

“I rang,” Junipera says. She eyes the bell on her nightstand and makes sure to rub at her fingers where Madison can see. While the Ravens are blessed with immunity to silver, Junipera is not. The silver bell is a taunt, though she doesn’t know from who. The Lord and Lady of the Family? The inner court? The servants? “I rang as long as I could, but nobody came.”

Junipera peeks out from behind her curtain of silver hair. Is that a smirk tucked into the corner of Madison’s mouth? What a fool.

“You’re expected at breakfast,” Madison says. She walks over the broken glass to the window and snaps the curtains closed. While the Ravens are able to walk during the day, full sunlight hurts them. Junipera is the one with immunity to that. Madison spins on her heel. “You’ve made quite the mess, ma’am. The servants will have a hard time replacing the window before evening.”

Does Madison expect an apology? Junipera feels her black eyes flare red and keeps her head ducked to hide them from Madison. She breathes in deeply through her nose. “…I didn’t mean to break the window.”

She did mean to throw her would-be killer through it last night. It breaking was unexpected. Her Family always kept bulletproof glass in the main residence. Maybe the Raven Family didn’t have the coffers to do the same?

“They will manage it,” Madison says. There’s a twist of satisfaction in her aura. Did she hear an apology from Juniper where none existed? “Raven Manor has grown accustomed to vampires with very fine control. It will do them good to be reminded of what lay beyond our borders.”

Fine control. Junipera has to admit that the elders of the Raven Family have it. Even she has a hard time sensing them in the manor, gathering in the depths to conspire against her Family. She says, “Oh…I see.”

“Breakfast is in one hour,” Madison says. She crunches over the broken glass to loom at the side of Junipera’s bed. Too close for an assistant. “You can’t go looking like that.”

Ah. Now Madison isn’t doing too good of a job of hiding her disdain. It seeps into her aura like swamp water. Why do I have to take care of this spoiled brat? Uncouth. Dirty. Not suited for the Raven Family.

Even Junipera has her limits.

She lifts her head to look up at Madison, tilting her chin just so. Her hair slides like silk over her shoulders and drapes along the curve of her hip. The rest is an instinct. Press her shoulders back, lift her chest, blink her long lashes just a few too many times, eyes wide and dark. She doesn’t dare let her aura touch Madison’s, not when she’s doing her best to appear harmless, but the effect is enough judging by the way Madison’s breath hitches. “Looking like what?” Junipera asks.

“J-just get dressed,” Madison says. She pats at her black bun as if checking for fly aways. She takes great interest in the Raven Family portraits on the wall. “Bathe. Be presentable.”

“In that order?” Junipera bites her lower lip as if in genuine confusion. “C-can I bathe first?”

“Obviously,” Madison snaps. She stumbles back when Junipera swings her legs over the edge of the bed, but then firms her stance. “One hour, ma’am.”

“That’s pretty fast,” Junipera says. Her fingers tangle in the bedsheets on either side of her and she presses her lower lip out in a pout. “Maybe if I had help in the bath…”

Madison pretends not to hear her. “I must go now, ma’am. Don’t hesitate to ring the bell if you need assistance.”

“But the silver hurts—”

Madison flees.

Junipera crosses her legs and leans her chin on one hand as she considers the door Madison just slammed. She accepted this mission from her Family out of boredom. It was different than being deployed to battle or sent to recover this or that ancient relic from ruins. The political espionage involved in this one had intrigued her. She’d gone into this with high hopes. She’d never seen the inner workings of a Family as well-established as the Ravens. She thought she might learn something from the vampires who were so famous for their speed, their wit, their bloodthirst.

Junipera didn’t expect to be bored here too.

She sighs, rubbing a hand over her hair as she stands. Too late to regret now. Until she finds the information her Family sent her for, she’s stuck here.

She goes to shower without ringing the bell. Truthfully, the pain of the silver doesn’t bother her that much. She could ring it, but why bother with something so futile? None of the Raven’s servants will answer her summons. They treat foreign ambassadors badly for a Family known for their politics.

If she has her way, they’ll learn to regret that.

-----------------------

Seriously had so much fun writing this and even more fun re-reading this exercise. The inner child in me already wants the next chapter.

Thank you for letting me post something a little off-beat today!

Patreon(X)

Next week’s story is already posted! Berthe the Green Witch (3rd person)

Summary: Traditional witches and green witches don't always see eye to eye. With a life on the line, Berthe is very persuasive.

Thanks for reading!

#my writing #short story #mary sue #long post

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leoniestarlee · 3 months

Text

Illyrian Assassin (16)

Pairing: Azriel x OC

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: past trauma, slow burn

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15)

(let me know under this if you want to be on the tag list! I do post at random times and sometimes spam a few chapters within an hour, btw.)

Word still hadn’t come from the Summer Court the following morning, so Rhysand made good on his decision to bring us to the mortal realm.

Daisy and Willa would stay here with Mor and Amren, being cared for in the townhouse. It was agreed last night that I would join Rhys, Feyre, Cass, and Az to the mortal realm. During my absence, Amren decided she’ll try to figure out why Willa is having these weird dreams that are continuing to drain her. My poor sister was barely sleeping, and when she did, it never lasted long.

“What does one wear, exactly, in the human lands?” Mor said from where she sprawled across the foot of Feyre’s bed while I sat up against the headboard.

“Layers,” Feyre said, riffling through the clothes in her armoire for something the both of us could wear. I tried looking for something through my own clothes earlier, but she’d said she would just find me something instead. “They…cover everything up. The décolletage might be a little daring depending on the event, but…everything else gets hidden beneath skirts and petticoats and nonsense.”

“Sounds like the women are used to not having to run—or fight,” I said, picking at my nails. “I don’t remember it being that way five hundred years ago.”

“Even with the wall, the threat of faeries remained, so…surely practical clothes would have been necessary to run, to fight any that crept through. I wonder what changed,” Feyre countered, pulling out an ensemble of turquoise with accents of gold—rich, bright, regal for our approval.

Mor and I merely nodded, and she went on, “Nowadays, most women wed, bear children, and then plan their children’s marriages. Some of the poor might work in the fields, and a rare few are mercenaries or hired soldiers, but…the wealthier they are, the more restricted their freedoms and roles become. You’d think that money would buy you the ability to do whatever you pleased.”

“Some of the High Fae,” Mor said, pulling at an embroidered thread in the blanket, “are the same.”

Feyre slipped behind the dressing screen as I laid on my stomach beside Mor.

“In the Court of Nightmares,” Mor went on, that voice falling soft and a bit cold once more, “females are…prized. Our virginity is guarded, then sold off to the highest bidder—whatever male will be of the most advantage to our families. I was born stronger than anyone in my family. Even the males. And I couldn’t hide it, because they could smell it—the same way you can smell a High Lord’s Heir before he comes to power. The power leaves a mark, an…echo. When I was twelve, before I bled, I prayed it meant no male would take me as a wife, that I would escape what my elder cousins had endured: loveless, sometimes brutal, marriages.”

I looked at my best friend with pity and sadness as parts on that year flooded back into my mind.

“But then I began bleeding a few days after I turned seventeen. And the moment my first blood came, my power awoke in full force, and even that gods-damned mountain trembled around us. But instead of being horrified, every single ruling family in the Hewn City saw me as a prize mare. Saw that power and wanted it bred into their bloodline, over and over again.”

“What about your parents?” Feyre managed to ask.

“My family was beside themselves with glee. They could have their pick of an alliance with any of the other ruling families. My pleas for choice in the matter went unheard.”

“A bunch of pricks,” I mumbled.

“The rest of the story,” Mor said as Feyre emerged, holding out a pastel blue gown toward me, “is long, and awful, and I’ll tell you some other time. I came here to say I’m not going with you—to the mortal realm.”

“Because of how they treat women?” Feyre questioned as I thanked her for the dress and slipped behind the dressing screen.

“If that was the case, then I can assure you that Rhys wouldn’t let Rory anywhere near the realm,” Mor snorted as I laughed, changing out of my tunic and pants. “When the queens come, I will be there. I wish to see if I recognize any of my long-dead friends in their faces. But…I don’t think I would be able to…behave with any others.”

“Did Rhys tell you not to go?” Feyre said tightly as I slipped into the gown with more skirts than I’d ever worn.

How do they manage to walk in this?

“No,” Mor said, snorting. “He tried to convince me to come, actually. He said I was being ridiculous. But Cassian…he gets it. The two of us wore him down last night.”

Feyre’s brows rose as I snorted, walking back over to the bed with the gown on and restricting more movement than I’d like.

Mor shrugged at the unasked question in Feyre’s eyes. “Cassian and Rory helped Rhys get me out. Before he had the real rank to do so. For Rhys, getting caught would have been a mild punishment, perhaps a bit of social shunning. But Cassian and Rory…” She looked at me, taking my hand in hers. “They risked everything to make sure I stayed out of that court, especially Cass. And he laughs about it, but he believes he’s a low-born bastard, not worthy of his rank or life here. He has no idea that he’s worth more than any other male I met in that court—and outside of it. Him and Azriel, that is.”

Feyre opened her mouth, but the cloak chimed ten, meaning it was time to go.

I stood up as Mor let go of my hand.

“I’d like my sisters to meet you. Maybe not today. But if you ever feel like it…” Feyre said to Mor as I softly smiled between the two of them.

Mor’s mouth tightened and she blinked a few times.

Feyre went for the door but paused with her hand on the knob. “I’m sorry if I was not as welcoming to you as you were to me when I arrived at the Night Court. I was…I’m trying to learn how to adjust.”

But Mor hopped off the bed, opened the door for her, and said, “There are good days and hard days for me—even now. Don’t let the hard days win.”

“I think I prefer you better when you aren’t wearing mortal clothes,” Cassian mused at me as I leaned against the wall, looking up and down at his fighting leathers.

“I think you don’t know how to compliment a female,” I shot back with a sweet smile while adjusting the white coat around my shoulders.

Azriel snorted across from me, his shadows swirling up his arms. “Even after five hundred years, you both still act like legitimate siblings.”

“I swear they came from the same mother sometimes,” Rhys chimed in with a smirk on his lips.

I flipped them both off as we fell to a silence, waiting for Feyre to say something as she glanced around at us.

I took a step toward Azriel, knowing Rhys would winnow us two off the coast, right to the invisible line where the wall bisected our world. There was a tear in its magic about half a mile offshore—which we’d fly though.

He gave me a small smile that I retuned, but it quickly wiped off my face and I snapped my head to Feyre as she said, “I’ll fly with Azriel.”

Slowly, slightly baffled, I looked back to Az who held an apology in his eyes as he looked at me before merely bowing his head to Feyre, and said, “Of course.”

Cassian cringed, glancing between me and Az. The three males knew if I’d ever need to fly somewhere, it would be Azriel who took me. But now, he’s taking Feyre and I’ve got to be fine with that. I mean, I was fine with it, but I also didn’t like it.

“You drop me, and I swear I’ll cut your balls off,” I warned Cass, walking toward him.

“If I drop you, then it’s Willa and Daisy who’ll attack me,” he grumbled, scooping me into his arms as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

Rhys laughed, grabbing Cass and then we were surrounded by black wind and the townhouse was gone. Blinding sunlight, and roaring wind surrounded us as Cassian plunged down, down—Then we tilted, shooting straight.

“I missed this,” I said, looking at my bastard brother as he chuckled.

Below, ahead, behind, the vast, blue sea stretched. Above, fortresses of clouds plodded along. I felt the wall as we swept through. Felt it lunge for me and then we were out. Cassian banked, veering toward the coastline, where Rhys was now sweeping over the land.

I stood between Cassian and Azriel as we stood behind Feyre—glamoured. The glamour didn’t keep out the damn cold though. I desperately rubbed my arms, trying to warm myself as Cassian chuckled, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his body heat.

The door opened, and a merry-faced round housekeeper squinted at Feyre. “May I help…” The words trailed off as she looked closer at Feyre’s face.

“Oh, she knows for sure,” I whispered, pressing myself more into Cassian’s side.

“I’m here to see my family,” Feyre choked out.

“Your—your father is away on business, but your sisters…” She didn’t move. Her eyes darted around Feyre. No carriage, no horse. No footprints in the snow.

“We should have planned this better,” Rhys said to us, knowing the glamour keeps our voices hidden.

The older lady’s face blanched and I looked at Rhys, raising a brow. “You think?” I sarcastically retorted.

“Mrs. Laurent?”

I felt everyone stiffen at the sudden voice from the hall. Hell, even I stiffened.

Feyre backed away a step, making Rhys step forward. But I grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked him back between me and Azriel.

“Are you insane?” I whisper-shouted at him. “If you comfort her now, then you might as well waltz in there and announce your presence.”

“I could easily wipe away any memory of us,” he stated.

I slapped him on the back of the head, sending him a disapproving look.

A mortal female’s face appeared over Mrs. Laurent’s round shoulder. Soft and lovely, like a summer dawn. Her golden-brown hair was half up, her pale skin creamy and flushed with color.

The mortal lifted a slender hand to her mouth as her body shook with a sob.

“Elain,” Feyre said hoarsely.

Footsteps on the sweeping stairs behind them, then—“Mrs. Laurent, draw up some tea and bring it to the drawing room.”

The women merely gave Feyre a look that promised death if she harmed her sisters as she turned into the house, leaving Feyre before Elain, still quietly crying.

But Feyre took a step over the threshold and closed the door. None of us said a word until a minute passed and I exhaled.

“This should be fun,” I groaned. “I’m freezing my damn ass off out here though.”

“You’re an Illyrian,” Rhys deadpanned. “How are you cold?”

“When was the last time you stayed in those mountains?” I raised a brow at him, and he rolled his eyes as Az and Cass quietly chuckled at us.

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myfandomprompts · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟔

Summary: In the middle of the civil war, you and Aemond manage to spend some time together.

Warning: Definitely smut, and definitely fluff. Maybe in that order, maybe not. But most importantly, angst. Fire & Blood spoilers (still not canon partly)

Masterlist (Part 25 - Part 27)

Aemond was unseen and unheard of for three whole days, as was your father. You knew it to be a very little amount of time of war like these, but it felt like months for you and your daughter.

You had been miserable about the way you had parted, him reaching out to you and you being stubborn because you were scared for him. For what he was set to accomplish despite the risk on his own life.

So when you heard the familiar flap of wings that each time made your heart leap in excitement out of your window, you rushed for the gates in order to greet him, Naerys in your arms.

He was surprised as he advanced on the bridge, as was the court who was for the first time seeing you outside and in better health, but you had eyes only for Aemond as he closed in on you with a proud smile on his face.

You then chose to take his good mood as a good sign that nothing bad had happened in the Crownlands and not ask him about it, instead taking him for a long due tour of Deep Den, tour he had avoided because of the cold look the court were giving him whenever he was there.

He had politely agreed, following you as you showed him the grounds, the main hall, the stony towers and the gardens, delighted by the way you glowed with happiness each time you explained something to him with passion. It makes him wonder if you have ever looked this beautiful before, here with his daughter in your arms. You had both just exited the stateroom when you were met with your mother and her ladies-in-waiting, clearly on a stroll of her own.

“Prince Aemond. Back so soon!” she said as she approached. “How is my lord husband?”

Aemond, caught off guard by her agreeable behaviour towards him for the first time, chose to indulge her for your sake.

“He is doing very well. He has made himself indispensable to the council, and is living up to the Lydden name,” he replied, glancing briefly at you. “I would have brought him back to you, my Lady, but I’m afraid that he is not very fond of dragon rides.”

“Well, this was to be expected. Only Targaryens are bold enough to ride such beasts.”

You exchanged a knowing look with Aemond as Lady Melara’s gaze landed on the babe in your arms where silver hair was already covering its tiny head, leaving no room for doubt about her very dragon-related heritage. She glanced back at you.

“Daughter, I am glad to see that you have recovered almost completely. I presume you will be able to present yourself at my side for the delegation?”

You frowned, confused.

“What delegation?”

Your mother’s eyes darted to Aemond for just a second, annoyance found in her expression before answering you.

“Lord Tarbeck, of course. He will be arriving within the week along with his army. They are travelling to the Crownlands for…” she inhaled, glancing at Aemond again. “Bring support to the royal family. Thus House Lydden has been requested to host them in their crossing of the hills.”

You understood the resentment your mother, a secretly Black inclined, felt toward Aemond as she was forced to host the Lannister bannermen in her own home. But you had no time to assess it or the way Aemond straightened beside you.

“Does father know about it?”

“I presume he does, since we were given no choice.”

She smiled, but it was insincere, as she was now avoiding the Prince’s eye and waiting for your reaction. However, he was the one to talk next.

“They should not come, this is not a good idea.”

You both looked at him, surprised that him of all people would disagree.

“This is to enlarge your own army, is it not? Why would you be against it, your Grace?” your mother asked, an inquisitive brow arched high over her right eye.

Aemond took his time to reply, wishing to be both clear and remain civil at the same time.

“I was under the impression that Lord Lydden had taken precaution to keep word of your daughter’s presence here to a minimum. I fear that having a whole army stationed here defeats this purpose as well as endangering both my wife and my child. You should have refused.”

Lady Melara seemed to be momentarily taken aback to hear you referred to as Aemond's wife, but she quickly recovered.

“Ser Adrian Tarbeck’s and Lord Lannister’s missives were very clear. I cannot refuse such guests without staining my honour and my House’s.”

“I will write a clearer missive then. They can very well camp in the mountains. No need to come here. I will see it done,” Aemond concluded as you were amazed by his calm demeanour. He was definitely in a good mood.

Your mother remained speechless, not expecting such a gesture from the Prince that she did not always see eye to eye with and simply made a satisfied and dignified sound before glancing down at Naerys once more, trying to hide her embarrassed smile and changing the subject.

“May I take her?”

Understanding that the topic of the Tarbeck visit had oddly come to an end without even the need for you to intervene, you gladly indulged her, your mother not wasting an instant to pull her granddaughter into a warm embrace and speak to her softly, her face now full of adoration.

“She surely is freezing, out in the cold like that. I will take her to the nursery,” she announced, turning on her heels without even waiting for your approval. “Won’t we, darling?” you heard her say to Naerys in a motherly voice.

Aemond’s gaze was fixed on them as they departed, and you could only take his arm reassuringly, smiling at his never-failing protectiveness as his daughter was pulled away from him.

“Come. There is one room I haven’t shown you yet.”

He reluctantly detached his eye from the older woman disappearing in an adjacent corridor before following you to a room much more bright than any others in the mountain-carved castle and looked around.

“You wanted to show me the library?” he pointed out as two scholars that were previously sitting in silence raised from their chairs to leave, abandoning their reading to escape the presence of Aemond. Good, you had counted on that.

“I wanted to show you the finest reading material of the Westerlands,” you said in a sarcastic manner as you waved to the not so many humid books resting on the poor-looking shelves. “So you would finally understand why I spend that much time in the company of books in the Red Keep, as you often inquired why.”

“It sure is… more deprived,” he observed, taking in the many scrolls messily stacked on a nearby table and some gruesome covers further back in the room. Compared to this, the library in King’s Landing looked like paradise, and you have yet to set foot in Oldtown, where the Citadel had the most renowned amount of books.

“Not much to enjoy, wouldn’t you agree?” you kept on, taking advantage of the fact that you were alone to rummage through the scrolls without care and grab a book about mountain wilderness.

Aemond’s gaze was not on the books, however, only on you.

“And here I was thinking that you spend your time there solely to be in my company,” he teased, thinking back of his studies as a young boy, and you reading next to him, eyes focused on the page as your hair fell around your face, alone in your own world. How he had loved those moments of tranquillity.

“Nothing could distract me from a good book, not even you,” you said with confidence as you advanced further in the room, toward the study area, Aemond hot on your heels.

“Mhh... Is this a challenge, my Lady?”

You turned to give him a disapproving look but he was already right behind you, your face almost bumping into his chest, glancing at you with a grin.

“A challenge you would surely lose,” you said daringly, feeling his hands take hold of your waist and make home there.

“I do not like to lose,” he whispered huskily before kissing you, taking your breath away in the process. You flattened your hands on his chest by instinct as he leaned more into you, demanding entrance into your mouth with his tongue. You gladly obliged as you felt consumed by his warmth again, a feeling you would never grow used to.

“You sure are in a good mood, my prince,” you managed as you parted for air, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

“Mh.” He brushed his lips along your jaw, a soft caress making you shiver. “I could make you much happier than I am if you let me.”

His hands dangerously slid downwards as he took your mouth again, but your hands went for his, grabbing his wrists to prevent him from moving further down.

“An appealing idea, my prince, but I’m afraid that it would have to wait,” you breath out apologetically, making him frown.

“What do you mean, my love?”

You hesitated.

“My health might be better but bringing a new life into the world does not come without consequences. I only require a little more time.”

Your labour had been difficult, and you had studied with a maester wearing a silver chain enough to know that the woman's body needed time after such a strain. Although saying those words pained you, as you could feel the burning lust that spread in your belly at his touch.

“I see,” he acknowledged as he took hold of your head to kiss your forehead, but you could clearly sense how much he tried to steel himself from your previous heated exchange. “Then I shall be patient,” he told you in a reassuring tone.

But you could not, and you would not let that opportunity pass by.

“You don’t have to be,” you stated, hands sliding down to his shoulders gently.

He frowned again but you silenced him with a kiss, nipping gently at his lower lip as you backed him toward a chair near the wall.

“Please sit,” you demanded, making him give you a puzzled look before lowering him down with a pressure on his shoulder.

“Are you punishing me in some way, my Lady?” he asked looking up at you above him, still confused as you could only give him a sly smile in amusement.

When you lowered yourself onto your knees between his thighs, his face lighted up in understanding, what you were doing finally dawning on him as you slid your hand passed his groin and reached for the belt at his waist.

“Ah…” he exhaled, his eye darkening as you unfastened his buckle slowly to uncover the lower part of his abdomen, his pale skin glowing where his muscles were already tensing in anticipation.

“Is my Lady not afraid that someone will enter and find us in this compromising position?”

“You seemed unbothered enough by it a minute ago if I recall correctly my prince,” you retorted, grazing your nails from his lower belly to the growing bulge under his pants. He hissed, you licked your lips.

“You had just challenged me. You know how competitive I can be.”

“It does not matter,” you replied, your hands now pulling down the fabric that covered him. “No one will dare enter if they know Aemond Targaryen is in the room.”

His reply was prevented by the biting of his lips at the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his finally freed member, making his chest heaved in a sharp breath. You kept on.

“So tell me, what has you in such a good mood?”

He groaned, his gaze fixed on your agonisingly slow fingers on him.

“You really wish to discuss of this matter now?” he growled, mouth slightly parted, tone almost scolding.

“Why not? It is a good time as any, none of us has any other use for our tongues than for talking. For now at least.”

You had said that in a fake innocence manner, and the implication of your words for what would come made him take a sharp breath and you slowed your motion, waiting for him to yield to your demand. He growled again in frustration, lulling his head back before reporting his gaze on you with a sigh.

“You strike a hard bargain, but very well. The Blacks are conflicted, Daemon wants to put forward his first-born son Aegon as heir while... while the Sea Snake wants his…” he was having a hard time in keeping his breath even as you squeezed a bit more along his length, “...his bastard grandson on the Throne.”

“He wants to trumps Jacaerys heritage? This goes against Rhaenyra and the Velaryon’s will,” you thought out loud as you put more pressure on Aemond with your palm.

“Yes,” He hissed again, growing harder by the second. “Even Stark is lost at what to do about it.”

You were a little stunned by Daemon’s disregard for his late wife’s son, not even willing to rescue him from the Greens as he rotted in a cell. But the Rogue Prince has always been unpredictable.

“This certainly explains your high spirits,” you concluded as you reported your focus on your ministrations, your hot breath against his sensitive skin.

His grip on the armrests of the chair tightened by his want for more friction, making his knuckles turn white.

“Is my Lady satisfied with my answer?” he panted. “Because I would very much appreciate it if we could come back to the matter at hand.”

You smiled at the pun, satisfied on how his breath was becoming heavier by the minute as you slid your hand up and down.

“I’m sure you can grant me another subject on which to discuss, my prince, you have managed fine until now,” you teased again.

“Y/N…” he painfully exhaled, his dark eye fixed on your mouth, and you wondered how wild his imagination was growing at the moment. You repressed a laugh at his despair, your knees weak at the sight of him left so wanting, his lips parted and hands itching to touch you, but it was the sound of your name on his tongue and spoken so desperately that made you yield. You licked your lips before fulfilling his desire.

You were slow at the beginning, wanting to taste him, working your tongue over him, and the low growl he emitted had you believe that it was the sweetest sound you have ever heard.

“Ondoso se vīlībāzmi -!”

It wasn't the first time you heard him speak in High Valyrian but you could not ignore the way it made his praise far more enticing to you. You raised your eyes at him through your eyelashes, meeting his dilated pupils fixed on you as he bit his lips in frustration, desiring more friction.

The long groan that escaped him next as you took him in your mouth without warning had you satisfied, he arched his head back in pleasure, overwhelmed by the sudden heat.

“F-fuck. Why have I not thought of it earlier? I would have you on your knees in each room of this damn castle if I had.”

From there he was a groaning mess, praising your beauty, swaying your hair away from your face when he could, struggling not to thrust his hips upwards as he felt your cheeks clench around his length at times, making him swear some more.

You could feel him grow more desperate as you continue your task, his tip bumping into the back of your throat, doing your best not to disappoint, led by his whimpers and by the way his breath fastened in his chest.

“Yes, that is good. That is so good Y/N I-” he slightly bucked his hips upwards when your hands tightened around the base of his shaft, another low growl emanating from deep inside his throat. “Fuck-, you were made for this surely,” he huffs, but you are too busy going faster, encouraged by his praises.

His voice cracked, his breath got stuck in his throat, his body tense and the next moment, he came undone, moaning lowly, eye closed in pure pleasure, his hardness jolting at the continual friction.

His dazed mind forced him to take a moment in order to regain control of him again. Then he leans into you, wiping your mixed liquid at your mouth with his thumb lovingly before kissing you.

“Come on, get up.”

He sat you on his thigh, taking care in putting his now limp member away before massaging your knees with his fingers, and you wished he had not put them this close to the heat between your legs.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said pensively as he caressed your hair, hand brushing the side of your throat.

You give him a disagreeing look.

“Oh, hush up, you.”

And then you leaned into him, kissing the side of his face before resting your head against his shoulder.

You were awoken by a gentle tug on your shoulder, and you opened your eyes wide, trying to make out your surroundings in the dark.

“It’s alright, calm yourself.”

The soft voice of Aemond had that very effect and you felt the palm of his hands press against the side of your head to keep you still, your breath rattled.

“You were having a nightmare, I woke you up. It is fine now.”

By flashes, the recurrent dream you had since you learned that Aemond had been made prisoner all these months ago came back into your mind, like a bad memory. You realised that it was the first time you had this dream again since your reunion with Aemond.

“I’m sorry I woke you up…” you breathed out, voice breaking as you realised how late it was.

“Mhh,” came his low tone. “Naerys would have anyway.”

You could decipher the glowing of his sapphire by the moonlight that filtered through the windows, his other living eye invisible to you as he looked straight at you, and you were certain he could see the anguish in your eyes.

“What is it that plagues you so much Y/N?” he asked, flattening your hair on your head soothingly.

“I do not want to talk about it,” you weakly replied, averting your gaze from him and lowering your head, gathering up the sheets that had fallen off from you anxiously. He let a moment pass in which you could feel him tense a bit.

“It is about me, isn’t it?” he guessed, noticing the way you fled his gaze and your body shivered.

You shook your head to chase the ill images on your mind, eager to forget them.

“Tell me,” he demanded calmly.

“It’s… I don’t remember.”

“I know when you are lying to me Y/N. You were calling me in your sleep. Tell me.”

You looked up at him at that, realising that you had not only screamed in your head during your sleep.

“It is just… a bad dream I had since my time in Bitterbridge.”

You could not see it because of the dark but you sensed his jaw clench. You had never talked about your time with Ulf more than necessary, not wishing to bring back bad memories or angering Aemond if you ever told him of what had transpired. “I thought it would be gone by now, with you at my side again but…” you felt your throat burn, unable to continue.

“It is only a nightmare, you will soon get rid of it, you will see,” he assured you, his thumb now grazing your neck.

“I see you die Aemond," you finally admit, now wanting for him to understand that your turmoil does not come from anywhere. “I see you on your knees, Black Sister over you, ready to strike, and then I see your blood be spilled on the throne,” you had said the last piece as loud as a whisper. “It is always the same, and I don't think that I can bear it any more.”

You had reached for his arm at that, and in return you were hardly flushed against him while you refrained a sob from escaping your throat, his arms now wrapping around you.

“None of this will ever happen. I will never be on my knees and certainly not for the Rogue Prince. I will kill him for you. You’ll see.”

“I do not want that Aemond,” you said against his chest. “I do not want that for you, don’t you understand?”

He fell silent, not letting you go as he buried his nose into your hair and stroked your back, his breath the only indication that he was neither angry nor calm, but something mysteriously in between. You had no idea what he was thinking, his silence making you uneasy, but you would have given anything to never leave this position. For him to never leave you.

“Go back to sleep,” he said after a while, voice a little more firm than before. “I am right here.”

Your tired state made you compliant, and you fell into his chest as you laid on the bed, your body strongly secured against his. You had not been certain that you would be able to fall asleep again but you were later awoken by Naerys’ cries, confirming that sleep had not completely eluded you. The next morning you remembered foggily Aemond’s voice telling you to stay still as he left your side, and moments later your daughter’s cries had stopped and you had fallen asleep again.

High Valyrian: "By the Warrio-"

A/N: Short but efficient. Tell me if you liked it.

-0- Part 27

@let-love-bleeds-red @crazylokonugget@jeyramarie@ephemeralninon@mrswhitethornbelikov@dudfahsn@missusnora@queenofterrasen418@honeytrapsblogp-graham@heathclifftragedyy @discowizard88@ivartheblessed@xceafh@bubbletae7@omgkatherine01@tzipora-art@signyvenetia @ml0103 @nsainmoonchild @lonadane @skythighs@bietchz@samnblack@mariaelizabeth21-blog1@projectcampbell @ripdragonbeans @caribbeangal@polireader@zillahvathek@moni-cah @literishdegree99 @a-beaverhausen @thekinslayer @maniccrystalhippie @princessofdarkwinter @isaxbella749@claudie-080102@ebaylee422@hydrationqueensworld@crumblychunksofheaven@officiallyunofficialperson@grungegrrrl@stargaryenx @dark-night-sky-99

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

Text

Infiltration - Chapter 2

Keegan x F!reader - call sign is Nox

Enemies to lovers / established relationship (kinda)

Warnings - 18+, graphic descriptions of violence, torture, taunting, reader is not a good person

———-

‘Ajax. Long time no see.’

He remained still in the chair, not even acknowledging your presence. Instead choosing to look straight on, through you. ‘You know it’s rude to ignore your host. It’s not very becoming of you Ajax.’ You pursed your lips as you sat on the edge of a table in front of him. ‘It’s just as rude to sneak around places that don’t belong to you.’ You rubbed a small piece of lint off your leg.

Silence.

‘Don’t make me do all the talking now Ajax. Believe it or not I do get bored of my own voice, and I have some questions I’d like you to answer.’

Silence.

You rolled you eyes, Ghosts are conditioned, trained not to give anything away. To never break under pressure, to never talk, they’d happily die for their cause. A trait you were more than willing to exploit. Even if he didn’t give you what you wanted, killing a Ghost? Now that would be fun indeed. So fun in fact you were going to take your time.

‘Because I’m so nice, I’m not going to hurt you, yet. Now, I’ll give you a few chances to answer me. Can’t have everyone thinking I’m a heartless bitch now can I?’ You smiled, knowing full well you were going to hurt him, and you were going to enjoy it.

He remained still. Focus still dead ahead on the grime covered wall of the dingy room. ‘So, let’s start out easy. Who’s with you on this mission?’ Nothing. ‘I know Keegans here, he’d never pass up an opportunity to get to me. Seeing as he let me slip the last time.’ Ajax shot his gaze towards you, that got his attention. ‘Didn’t you know?’ You smiled, extending your hand out in front of your to check your nails.

‘The last time you had me in your sights, he let me go. He could have killed me. Ended it. But he didn’t. Keegan doesn’t miss. But he did that day.’ You stood and showed him your scar. His dropped his eyes momentarily, trying not to get sucked in by your story. ‘Now why would he do that? Why would Sargent Russ choose to miss me? Have a think.’ You tapped the side of your head.

‘Where are they?’ Your voice was firm but calm.

‘I ain’t tellin you shit’ he spat through gritted teeth. Feigning shock you placed your hand over your chest, ‘good lord, he speaks. Nice to see your tongue does work. Maybe I’ll cut it out later, I don’t like liars. Just ask Shae. Oh wait … you can’t.’ You narrowed your eyes, smirking softly. ‘What did you do?’ He asked, becoming tense in the chair.

‘I didn’t do anything. I just got rid of rotten goods, you know, when something rotten is placed by something fresh the rot spreads. Like a virus. I can’t be having that.’ You tutted as you shook your head. ‘Just tell me what I want to know and maybe I’ll let you go.’ A lie. Some would call you a hypocrite, not that you gave a shit. ‘Where is she?’ He asked, his eyes now focusing on yours.

‘Honeslty?’ You shrugged ‘I don’t know, could be in one piece, two pieces, a hundred. And I don’t really care.’ You were getting bored, very quickly. Pulling the radio off his chest you pressed the button. ‘Keeeeegan’ you mocked, ‘I believe you’re missing someone. Have you done a head count recently?’ Looking at Ajax you rolled your eyes, ‘talkative bunch you are, aren’t you?’

‘Keegan, I know you’re listening. So listen very carefully. I have Ajax.’ The radio remained silent. ‘Wow some friends you have there’ you laughed. ‘Ok Keegan. If you don’t want to talk then listen …’ pulling out your knife you drove it straight into Ajax’s thigh, through to the metal the other side. Ajax screamed, a gut wrenching scream as his muscles were severed. Blood began to pour from the wound, dripping down his leg.

Pulling the knife back out you ran your eyes up and down the blade, watching as the blood collected at the tip before falling to the floor. Your thumb still on the button you taunted him again, ‘Keegan look at what you made me do. He’s getting blood all over my floor. He’s such a messy boy, aren’t you Ajax?’ He was hissing through his teeth, trying to regulate his breathing, trying to remain calm.

Releasing the button you waited for a reply, to no avail. Either they didn’t give a shit, their radio was turned off or they were listening praying for Ajax not to break. Either way, you were having fun. ‘Just rude if you ask me’ you said bluntly, shaking your head at Ajax. Without warning you drove your knife into his other thigh, the ding of metal rang out as the knife hit the chair yet again. The noise that came from Ajax could only be described as heroin to you.

Having incapacitated Ajax you pulled the table closer to him, this time you sat on the edge and rested your feet either side of his bleeding thighs. ‘Where are they Ajax? It’s a simple question.’ He shrugged. Chewing the inside of your cheek you shrugged back, challenging his answer. ‘You’re no fun’ you pouted.

In one smooth motion you kicked Ajax in the chest, sending him falling backwards, gasping for breath. You radioed again ‘Keegan, seriously.’ You held the radio close to Ajax’s throat, his raspy breaths echoing into the microphone. ‘I mean I’m just warming up over here. You’re being quite selfish I think Russ.’

You sank yourself down on Ajax’s abdomen, trapping his arms underneath your weight. ‘You always were handsome Ajax, I’ll give you that. I thought you were smarter too, but obviously not. Where are they?’ He flinched beneath you, trying to move his arms. You gripped his cheeks, ‘calm yourself, you’ll only bleed out quicker if you fight.’ You could feel the warm blood from his thighs seep into your top as his legs rested on your back.

‘Claude!’ You yelled, stroking Ajax’s face ‘hold this for me? They don’t want to answer so they can listen to their beloved Ghost die instead.’ Claude took the radio and held his finger on the button. Panic started to seep into Ajax’s eyes as he searched your face for mercy. He didn’t find any. Mercy wasn’t a feeling you knew, you always got what you wanted, no matter the method.

‘I’m going to enjoy breaking you Ajax.’

You started with your fists, knuckle met bone with repetitive blows to his face. The slap of skin on skin reverberated around the room, as you collided with his face time after time. He remained strong, honestly? It was impressive. ‘You look sad. I think I know how to fix that.’ You took your blade at sliced at the corners of his mouth, carving a permanent smile on his face. Sighing you took in your handiwork ‘much better.’

His screams and guttural moans of pain filled the room, filled your lungs as you inhaled them. This carried on for quite a while but eventually you finally got bored. Grabbing the radio back from Claude you reached out to Keegan once again. ‘I’m done Keegan. Im bored. You can have him back. Don’t spend too long in the abandoned mill behind the compound now will you?’

With what little energy he had left Ajax lifted his head in disbelief. You knew? This whole time? Shrugging you turned to face him ‘what? Did you honestly think I didn’t know? I knew you were here the minute Shae turned on me, had her trailed and viola. There you were.’

‘You’re a fuckin bitch Nox’ he spat, barely able to speak.

‘Oh thank you’ you mocked, feigning a happy tear. Bending down you placed a kiss on his temple ‘good bye Ajax.’ Pulling the trigger you made sure they heard it on the other end of the radio. Looking at Claude you motioned to Ajax, ‘dump him where you found him. I’ll at least let him be buried like a Ghost, even if he didn’t die like one.’

The radio crackled to life ‘Nox?’ Keegans voice finally hummed through the speaker. Your eyes twinkled at the sound of his gruff voice. He worried you, but you were ready for him, ready to address your history together.

‘Keegan.’

‘I’m coming for you .’

————

Part 3

A/N - I had to pull back from the torture scene so much lmfao I could have gone into more detail there but wasn’t sure it if was appropriate 😂 I love me unhinged fictional women

Taglist - @sashadiurnal @bubble-dream-inc @polishcodfan @shyerue @ave661 @taurus-ted (our boy is gonna go afffff)

#call of duty #keegan p russ #keegan cod #call of duty keegan #keegan x reader #keegan russ #keegan russ x reader #call of duty ghosts #call of duty: ghosts

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writeshite · 1 year

Note

Robb thinking his husband is cheating

Lady Margaery and Olenna of House Tyrell arrive in Kings Landing on a beautiful summer afternoon, and every ounce of assurance of your marriage Robb had shriveled when he noted how familiar you and Lady Margaery were. Viserys finds him glaring daggers from a balcony overlooking the courtyard; the bastard laughs when he notes how tightly Robb grips the railing as you and Margaery exchange pleasantries over tea.

“My, my, this look of jealousy is quite attractive on you,” Viserys comments, Robb sneers at the man. “Calm yourself; I’m not foolish enough to attempt and take you a few feet from my brother.” He ran his hand around the base of his neck, “He’d have my head for that.”

“Good, then you should stop bothering me.”

Viserys mock pouted, “I only came to see how you felt knowing your husband’s ex-lover was in town.”

“Ex-lover?”

The bastard gasps mockingly, “Don’t you know, before you, hundreds if not thousands lined the streets,” he remarks, gazing up dreamily as if remembering, “Cersei Lannister and Margarey were high contenders, constantly vying for my brother’s hand.” Viserys glanced down, you looped your arm in hers, and you both laughed as you waltzed away, “But I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Robb spends hours after spiraling, watching your interactions with Lady Tyrell; his mind plays scenario after scenario incessantly, as Viserys’ mockery does the same. His panic draws your attention, but he ignores you when you speak and shrugs off your affection. He wanders the halls, hands shaking as he fiddles with his wedding band at every waking moment.

Viserys enjoys his turmoil. “If you’re that upset, then why not find your own comfort in another?” Robb cusses him out, storming off before he does anything irrational, wandering the halls aimlessly until he stumbles across Lady Olenna enjoying her wine. He turns to leave but is beckoned by her.

“Come on; I don’t have all day.” A handmaiden pours him his own cup, and he downs half of it without hesitation, “Do you know of Old Valyrian customs, Lord Stark?”

“What?”

“In Old Valyria, love was a bloody conquest; dedication was shown by impaling your lover’s enemies for all to see,” she replies, nursing her drink. “It was said that their bloodlust made them dangerous and volatile creatures to love.”

Robb blinks slowly, mind swimming to understand what he’s been told; she stands, “Walk with me.” The terrace edge overlooks Traitor’s Walk on one side, “Do you recognize any of the people there?”

At first, he doesn’t, but then he does - the head at the center is covered in blood, bruising around its face, and a jagged haphazard cut from ear to ear - he recognizes it as Lord Stuar, who’d taken to tormenting Robb alongside Viserys months back. Lord Stuar, who’d been declared missing soon after, “How….”

“Your husband,” Lady Olenna supplies, “He’s been filling Margaery in on his bloody conquests; she enjoys the details, as do I, I suppose.”

“What are you trying to say, Lady Olenna?” He asks.

“Don’t you understand?” she turns to him now, “Your husband, like all Valyrians, is a dangerous and volatile creature, willing to spill blood for you without so much as a thought. Believe me when I say, he wasn’t quite this,” she searches for the word, pursing her lip, “murderous for my granddaughter.” She parts from him with words of wisdom, “Use it to your advantage.”

His mind is buzzing from both the wine and the knowledge now bestowed upon him; your chambers are empty, and he’s thankful, needing the space and time to sort through his thoughts. He dozes off and wakes to the sound of light murmuring, your at the door, back to him; the conversation ends, and then the door is closed again. Robb doesn’t face you when he stands, unsure of how to broach anything; he instead focuses on shedding his heavier clothing, unbuckling his belt when your arms draw around him.

“I’ve been told you doubt my loyalty,” you whisper by his ear, hands settling on his, “Why is that?” He mumbles a half-hearted response, and you hmm, “Silly wolf,” you kiss his temple, turning him to face you, “I’d rather burn in dragon’s fire than break our vows.”

#robb stark x male reader #robb stark x reader #ma said it's my turn to make shit up about old valyria because i can #arranged marriage au #shitedrabbles

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star-girl69 · 1 year

Text

I Loved You Like the Sun

a/n: this is interesting for sure. it was so hard to rationalize her husband’s behavior so i just want everyone to know that this man is CRAZY and has no conscience so that is why he does all that he does just bc he’s a horrible person anyways also this sucks but and i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: swearing, overprotectiveness, possessiveness, violence, death, incest, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Ten- Freedom

—-

It’s three days after the attack when you leave Rhaenyra’s and Daemon’s apartments.

You say good morning to the children, and they all smile back, innocent and unaware.

You look in the mirror by the door. Pick an eyelash from your cheek. Wish to be free like them.

Daemon grabs you by the arm. Asks where you’re going. When you tell him, with a hiss, he says nothing but gestures for you to go, palm on Dark Sister as he follows you through the winding steps of the castle.

The halls are empty, and the sun has barely risen. You feel like ash, like one gust of wind will blow you over.

When you come to your old chambers, where your husband should reside, it is empty. You gather a few of your favorite dresses, jewelry and books, place it into a trunk that Daemon calls a servant to take.

He follows you back to their apartments, because you have no where else to go.

You settle back into their rooms, the blood on the floor of yours still stained.

You organize and reorganize your trunk, and Daemon watches. Rhaenyra comes, tired after an early morning of council meetings. She walks forward as if to greet you with a kiss, then hesitates and sits on the bed.

They watch you, the room silent. You can hear the children playing in the next room. You wish you could be innocent and unaware like them. Playing house and tag and other stupid games.

Joffrey comes, only two, toddling into the room on his small little legs with a nanny behind him. He walks over to you, curious about your trunk of belongings. And your ire is with his parents, not him, so you pull him into your lap. He seems content to just sit there, watching as you fold and refold your dresses, unpack and repack them, trying to make one thing in your life perfect.

A servant knocks, bringing a dress. She addresses you, but Rhaenyra tells her to leave it on the bed. Joffrey is asleep, sitting up in your lap, and the nanny is called back into the room to collect him.

Rhaenyra murmurs that they’ll let you change, and that they’re sorry, again. You don’t answer. You stand, turn towards the bed.

A black dress rests on the red sheets.

—-

The funeral of your husband is a sordid affair, no one really liking him, only a younger brother of his coming forward to shed any real tears. You feign sadness to avoid giving a speech, hiding behind a handkerchief and a black veil. You have only met his brother a few times before, and he is a nice enough man. Not smart enough to realize what his brother was doing you, but you like to think he would have helped you if he had known.

Besides, he was a general, biding his time in a keep with his men, waiting for House Tully to call upon their bannermen. He never spent much time at House Chamber’s ancestral seat.

You are not surprised when he walks over to you now.

“My Lady, my condolences. My brother was a good man, you a good woman. My heart aches for you.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon stand not to far, champagne flutes in their hands, whispering under the cover of Rhaenyra’s black paper fan. Close enough to hear you and him, but you are too tired to care.

“Thank you, Ser Bryan. My lord husband would be most happy to know you thought so fondly of him.” He smiles, awkwardly.

“Y/N, I, is it okay if I call you that?” You nod, confused at his nervous posture and wavering voice. “My advisors, who I have been leaning on in this transition, have suggested something to me. A proposal.”

“Yes. You’re unmarried, right?”

He nods. “They have suggested- a pairing that I would be happy with.” You smile, genuinely. He deserves it. “They propose I marry, well, you.”

You faintly hear the sound of scuffling, Rhaenyra most likely having to hold Daemon back.

“I…” He runs a hand through his hair, takes a step back. “Y/N… I would be perfectly happy with this arrangement. But I won’t marry you, or even speak of this again, if you say so. It is your choice. Think about it.” He presses a brotherly kiss to your cheek, and you are frozen in place.

—-

The Morning After the Attack, 2 Days Ago

“You cannot kill him!”

Daemon rounds on you with a fierce look in his eyes, some possessive need prompting him to avenge you.

“You do not command me, little girl.” His voice holds no venom, only facts. You are young, a year younger than Rhaenyra, and you have always tried to keep a lighthearted outlook on life. But the cards you were dealt caused that outlook to become severe. But your morals did not falter.

“Don’t patronize me.”

Rhaenyra places a hand on your shoulder a kiss to your cheek, standing up from where she sat on the chaise.

“We are all in fragile states-”

“I am in no such thing-” Daemon starts, but Rhaenyra continues with a scathing glare.

“And we all need to think- think- before we do anything. I talked to the guards, to my father and Harrold Westerling. They have agreed to keep this from the public for now. We do not know who made an attempt on your life, Y/N. Not in the eyes of the law.”

“Of course we know!”

You take a heavy seat on the chaise, soothing yourself in Rhaenyra’s leftover warmth.

“We know who tried to kill her. We know. Let me punish him for it, for God’s sakes!”

“Daemon. You are not helping.”

You look up at them, fingers making red moons in your palms.

“Are you so bloodthirsty that you can’t just let him die naturally?” You truly did not understand it. Your husband was to die soon. Everyone knew it. You had heard gossip from the servants- he grew sicker and sicker by the day. His heart was failing, and you could not understand why Daemon and Rhaenyra couldn’t just let him die.

“Why are you defending him?” Daemon asked, incredulous. Rhaenyra gasped and hit him on the arm, muttering an apology to you.

“I’m not.” You hissed, and you tried your best to stand strong, but tears pooled in your eyes.

His face softened. His eyes lost that murderous glint, his jaw unclenched. “I’m sorry, Y/N, my love-”

“Is it so wrong to not want blood on my hands?”

“No, it’s not. But there would be no blood on your hands. Nor Rhaenyra’s. Only mine.” He sighed, stepped forward and his knees cracked as he fell to the floor before you. He grabbed your hands, detangling them and resting them on your knees. “Let me make him pay for all that he’s done to you.”

Rhaenyra sat next to you, winding an arm around your head and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Daemon is no better than a dragon. He’s a bloodthirsty beast of a man. Your husband will die anyway. Let Daemon feel he avenged you.” She turned your head towards her, giving you a smile that made your heart stop even like this.

Daemon pressed a hand to your chest, the bandaged part in the center of your chest that covered the wound from the assassin.

“Think about it,” he urged, and you nodded.

“Okay. I’ll think about it.” Daemon smiled, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You could not help the smile on your own face.

And you could not help it falling.

The door opened, and Rhaenyra stood to speak in buses tones with the servant.

Daemon took Rhaenyra’s places, kissing your hand and the marks on your palm, muttering sweet apologies and words in Valyrian you did not understand.

“Listen to me.” You looked up when Rhaenyra approached, placing a hand on yours and Daemon’s faces. “Don’t let your temper get to you.” Her eyes fixed on Daemon, then turned back to you. “Don’t forget that we will protect you.”

“Rhaenyra-” Daemon started, but was interrupted by a servant clearing his throat.

“Lord Kyle of House Chambers, Your Graces.”

Oh, and when he walked in, hobbling with the help of a servant and a cane, it was a hard sight to see. His skin was pale and his face was hallowed, and his expression was one that looked as if he had seen The Stranger himself.

Daemon growled.

And to be quite honest, you felt laughter rise in your chest even in this horrible moment. It was ridiculous truly, and he was a wild beast just as Rhaenyra said.

But when your husbands eye settled on you, any semblance of joy appeared from your body.

His eyes trailed the three of you with a scrutinizing, judging gaze.

“Still whoring yourself out, huh?” When Daemon stood, Rhaenyra had to physically place herself in front of him to even try and stop him. Anger rolled off him, but he would not hurt his wife. Your husband coughed loudly into a handkerchief “Just a jest, My Prince.”

“I will kill him, I will take his head, I will rip him to shreds-”

Rhaenyra finally managed to push him back onto the couch, and he wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders.

“He’s a fucking cunt,” Daemon whispered, just for you. “He’s a fucking liar, too.”

“Calm, My Prince?” Your husband was a dying man, and had nothing to lose. He took a heavy seat on the opposing arm chairs, body sagging at the relief of his own weight.

“What do you want, Lord Chambers?” Rhaenyra, ever the perfect princess, seemed the most adept at handing this. You folding your hands in front of you, keeping your eyes to the floor.

Perhaps if you did not look, did not talk, he would simply forget about you.

He let out a dry laugh that turned into a cough.

“I could ask for a lot. I could ask for my wife back, but, well, she’s a whore. Why would I want that? I could ask for compensation for all you have done to my wife. But I’m already a dead man.Tell me, I truly want to know- was she a good fuck? I could try and…” He trailed off.

His speech had been punctuated with laughs and coughs all the way throughout, and Daemon and Rhaenyra had only grown more tense with each word of his. You wanted to get angry, but you had been so used to this for years it was so easy to just sink into the cushions and try and pretend it was different.

“I’ll have your tongue for that.” Rhaenyra whispers, and you hear your husband stand.

“Really?” He hums, making for the door.

“Yes! Yes I will, you selfish, vain, disgusting excuse for a man!” You look up as she stands.

“Rhaenyra-” But she evades your grip, screaming more profanities and insults at your husband.

You watch as your husband wobbles, putting more support on his cane. He groans in pain, but Rhaenyra is too wrapped up in her rage to notice.

Gods, you think, she is killing him with her words.

He stumbles, catching her attention, and she trails off. She mutters something under her breath, but you don’t quite catch it.

“Fucking whore. Both of you women are fucking whores. Don’t you know women are supposed to be seen and not heard? Cunts,” he hisses, and somehow, instinctively, you know those words will be his last.

Daemon is unable to contain his rage, and he stands up.

His muscles ripple under his tight cotton shirt, and he looks like a God as he looms over Kyle Chambers.

He does nothing but clench his jaw and slap him across the face.

When your husband falls, it is a heavy thing.

You think you scream, and you think Rhaenyra gasps. Daemon falters and you run forward, because if Daemon and Rhaenyra have just thrown their lives away for you you’re not sure if you can forgive them.

He is on his side when you reach him, falling to your knees. His cane thrown to the ground next to him.

When you lean over his head, your ear near his mouth, you hear nothing.

And in a way, you are finally free. Your husband no longer ties you down. No longer can torture you. You had dreamed about this for years, imagined the sweet scent of freedom so much it was ingrained into your brain.

You just wish somebody had told you that freedom is quite a lonely thing.

—-

Present Day

Your good-brother leaves you with a sheepish smile, and you are still in shock.

You are boiling over with emotions; anger, sadness, disappointment, confusion. You do not know what to do.

Daemon and Rhaenyra come over quick, Daemon grabbing your biceps in a tight grip.

“You won’t marry him,” he hisses. “You’ll come back to Dragonstone with us.”

“How can I do that, Daemon? How can I do that when you murdered someone right in front of me.”

“It was an accident, Y/N. It was a slap, you saw.”

“No! No, if you hadn’t been so bloodthirsty, so wrapped up in your rage- Rhaenyra, you would have noticed how you screaming at him weakened him.” She stands beside you and Daemon, and looks away ashamedly.

“Y/N- I’m so sorry-”

“And Daemon, you shouldn’t have fucking slapped him. You were selfish. What if they hadn’t believed us? What if they hadn’t believed his heart had stopped, and the red on his cheek was from hitting the floor? You endangered everything you claim to love.” Your tears fall, and it is the first they have fallen since his death.

Rhaenyra takes a breath and places a hand on your face. “Come back to Dragonstone with us. The children love you, the fresh air will be good, we will talk we will make it better, Y/N, please-”

“Why would I do that? You clearly do not care about me.”

Her eyes darken and she hisses, hand gripping your chin.

“You will come with us because you are ours, and we were always meant to burn together. You will come with us because I am not content to spend the rest of my time on this hellscape without you. You are the only thing that makes life worth living, Y/N, do you not realize? You will come because we care about you. Because we love you.”

Her grip softens toward the end, and for a second, it is a sweet moment in the arms of your lovers. And as much as they talk about you being the reason life is worth living, it is the same for you. They are your saviors. Rhaenyra kept you alive all those years in the Riverlands, Daemon saved you from the assassin. And the only reason they hurt and killed your husband was for you.

This moment is like before. And you do not want it to become the last.

“I do not forgive you.”

Daemon trails your jawline with your nose and you would be lying if you said your knees did not tremble. You are suddenly thankful you are in a hidden corner of the garden.

“That will come,” he whispers, biting through the thin lace veil to softly graze your skin.

“You’ll come with us?” Rhaenyra asks, and her eyes are so full of hope.

“Yes.”

What does freedom feel like, you wonder? You thought freedom was the death of your husband. But freedom might be something else. Something entirely different.

What is freedom?

Is it the feel of no chains on your wrists, or the opportunity to make your own choices? Is it the absence of fear?

Is it truly as lonely as you felt all those days ago?

What is freedom?

—-

taglist:

@wondergal2001 @akiraquote @a-lil-bit-nuts @anginoguera @thatkinkylesgirl1 @stitchattacks @honeypillowsblog @kaloafd @blackhoodlea @softtina @wallace02sblog @tetgod @hotd-fanfic

#daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader

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damn-stark · 11 months

Text

Chapter 17 When you believe

Chapter 17 of Sandstorm

A/N- Practice did them good, that’s all I’m saying ;)

Warning- Swearing, FLUFF, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*15 YEARS LATER*

“Your Grace,” he bows his head and then slowly drifts his gaze to your left side and parts his lips but doesn’t say anything, as if debating whether to acknowledge who stands by your throne. “…Princess,” he finally adds and straightens up.

You draw out an exhausted breath and press the man. “State your business, Lord Umber.”

The old man slides the hat off his head and clutches it in front of him as he holds your gaze. “I am sorry for the disturbance, My Queen, but I don’t know what else to do. It’s the Wildlings, they’ve—”

“Freefolk,” the young girl at your left side cuts him off to correct him. “If you’ve come here to complain then please address them correctly.”

You can’t help the proud smirk that tugs on your face as you look at your left side to share the gesture with your eldest daughter, and heir, Rhaenyra.

She notices from the corner of her eyes and passes a soft smirk before you’re both forced to listen to the man complain about the Freefolk, as a lot of Northerners often do. You’d think after a decade of the Freefolk being apart of the Kingdoms, the people would stop being so judgemental, but no, they continue to whine.

“The Freefolk,” the man corrects himself. “Summer snow has struck the North, and I know it’s nothing to worry about here, but it is over there. They do nothing but steal like wild ravagers. I want them out of my lands. It’s time the Crown does something about them.”

It’s always the same thing over and over again. It’s fucking annoying.

“Freefolk business is to be dealt with Princess Sansa Stark,” you remind the man of a law that’s been set for 15 years.

The Lord nods and shuffles forward, making sure to be cautious of the swords that align the steps that lead to the Throne. “I have gone to the Princess of the North, but I always end up with the same response that nothing can be done. That’s why I have come here personally.”

You nod and sigh, wanting this to be over, but you just shift in the seat and continue to address his problem. “My Lord, have the Freefolk robbed you personally? Because if they have then it is to be brought with Princess Sansa Stark, there are laws that need to be followed, including them. So if they have robbed you, beaten you, or done any destruction to your lands then please say so.”

The Lord twists his hat and glances at the Lord Hand below the steps, and then at the Grand Maester at the other side and finally meets your gaze again and nods, letting you know all you needed to know, it’s all bullshit.

“They’ve gotten to steal from our flocks,” the man shares. “Every other night, one goes missing or one wakes up all dead and covered in blood. How am I meant to keep my people fed? I want justice.”

Gods.

You sigh and nod softly. “All right, well I’ll write to Princess Sansa Stark, I will tell her to send two Knights to your land and stand guard for a week. If you are right then the Freefolk at fault will face trial, if not then you may rest easy and know it was not them.”

The Lord nods and then bows his head. “Thank you, Your Grace. I know that I will be right.”

You hum and offer the man a tiny smile that lasts until he’s out of the sunlit throne room. “All right,” you sigh and stand up from that hard ass throne. “Well my Lord Hand that is all for today. Thank you.”

The Lord hand bows and takes his leave, letting you turn to Grand Maester Samwell Tarly. “Grand Maester, may you send Princess Sansa a raven and let her know what we’ve discussed here today please.”

The man bows his head. “Of course, right away your Grace.” He then scurries off, letting you walk down the steps and then head to the courtyard with Rhaenyra beside you, and four Queensguard behind you.

“I bet it’s just a pack of wolves getting into his flock,” Rhaenyra interjects when you leave the throne room. “It’s rare now to hear of the Freefolk doing any harm.”

You scoff. “Yes, that’s exactly my thoughts, but you know,” you sigh. “People are still prejudice about the unknown. They’re scared. But the key thing to do in these cases is…” you trail off and let her finish.

“Have patience,” Rhaenyra fills in.

You smile and meet her pretty dark eyes that match Jon’s. “Exactly, even when they cry wolf.”

Rhaenyra tries not to, but she can’t help but giggle.

You grin and look ahead. “Pun very much intended.”

Rhaenyra scoffs; and you know she rolls her eyes.

“Still he came all this way,” Rhaenyra adds. “I wonder how much of his flock is left now. With luck all so he can learn his lesson about whining.”

“With luck,” you retort. “None are dead or else he will come back and give us headaches.”

“I suppose you are right,” Rhaenyra agrees.

“Aren't I always?” You tease.

Rhaenyra stays quiet, causing you to look at her with a playful narrowed glare. She meets your gaze and simply shrugs.

“Father says it’s okay to be wrong,” she counters smugly. “There’s no mistake or shame in it.”

You wrap your arm around her shoulders and shake your head. “But I am your mother and the Queen, I am never wrong. My word is law. Literally.”

Rhaenyra scoffs softly. “Father says even rulers can be wrong.”

You beam at her and press your forehead against hers. “Very good. Your father has taught you well.”

She’s come a long way from being sharp tongued and short tempered. Well some of it still resides within her, but now that she’s been at your side more in your royal duties, she’s started to mature. It both saddens and fills you with joy because you don’t wish her to get any older than she already is, but you also can’t help but feel proud.

“As have you, mother,” she assures you.

You hum softly and then press a kiss on the side of her head before you let go and walk out to the runway that overlooks the training courtyard below. And the moment you walk out you’re welcomed with the sound of metal singing as it clashes against one another, you hear playful training yard squabble, and instructions that come from Jon.

When you approach the railing you stop when you’re above a pair of boys training with swords. You rest your hands against the railing and watch as your son, Ryuu, shove his older brother off his feet with a swift lunge before he spins around him and trips him. He’s only 13, and Jon and Ser Brienne say he’s showing great potential; he’s beaten Jon a couple already in training.

“You’ve frozen up again, young Prince,” Ser Brienne scolds your older son on the ground. “Stop tensing up and watching. Watch and act.”

You lean closer and watch as Ryuu jumps up and down in celebration to his success, making the black curls on his head bounce.

“No celebrating,” Ser Brienne scolds the boy. “Focus.”

Ryuu stops and clears his throat. “Right sorry.” He walks around his brother and offers him his hand. “You did well, Daeron.” He compliments the 15 year old. “Nice switch.”

Daeron sighs and meets his brother's dark eyes that also match Jon’s eye color, and then takes his hand to let his brother help him to his feet.

“Thanks,” Daeron responds with disappointment as he begins to walk back to his spot across from Ryuu.

“You almost got me,” Ryuu counters and twists around to face Daeron. “Almost,” he jokes, with a smirk you know plays on his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” Daeron chuckles. “Just pay attention little boy. You won’t get me now.”

You smile at his good sportsmanship and watch as he fixes his grip around his sword's handle. And as if he can sense your gaze, he looks up and his green eyes meet your gaze. He offers you a soft smile that you quickly mirror.

“Good job,” you mouth to him.

Daeron’s smile widens, causing Ryuu to follow his line of gaze and notice you now too.

“Mother, have you come to see me beat Daeron?” He quips with a playful grin.

You shrug. “Maybe I’ve come to challenge you,” you remark.

Ryuu flashes you a grin. “I’d like that.”

You shoot him a wink and push yourself back to continue on, hearing him Ryuu taunt his brother. ��I thought you were flirting with a girl for a second, but how can that be when you’re such a mommas boy.”

“Ryuu,” you warn him without looking over at him.

“Mother,” you hear him call back.

Before you can climb down the stairs to join the training yard below you turn to face Rhaenyra. “The business is all done for today, my girl, you may go change and join your siblings if that pleases you.”

Rhaenyra glances down below and watches everyone training for a few seconds before she meets your gaze and interjects. “Actually, may I go out and be with my dragon today?”

You nod without hesitation. “Of course. Go on, soar the skies. Just remember, strap up, and be careful okay?”

Rhaenyra flashes you a smile before she spins around and rushes off to do as she said, letting you turn to hobble down the stairs.

And just as you turn into the training yard you catch your youngest son and child, Aemon, miss the target a few feet ahead of him and hit some weapon rack instead. Because of it his two older sisters watching him begin to laugh.

“Which one of you was a marksman at 8?” You cut them off, catching all of their attention.

“I was,” Edria, your 11 year old daughter, counters smugly.

You scoff softly, and Oraena, the youngest daughter rebuttals her sister that’s only a year older than her. “You still wet your bed at 8.”

Edria gasps and turns her head slowly to face her sister with annoyance, before she leans over and shoves her playfully, making Oraena chuckle before she pushes Edria back. That makes Edria want to hit her arm, but Oraena runs off before she can be touched, making her sister chase after her around the training yard.

“There they go,” you comment under your breath and watch them for a moment before you look at Aemon. “You, my boy are okay,” you assure the sweet boy. “Now hair out of your face, maybe that’s why you’re missing.”

Aemon rolls his eyes, and then holds the bow between his legs to tie his wavy white-silver hair back to a bun that matched Jon’s. After he’s done he faces you and begins to sign with his hands what he wants to say since he can't speak. “Now, can father and I continue?”

You nod. “Go on. Shoot.” You tell him and point the target with your head.

Aemon grabs his bow again and takes an arrow to try again, and while he does you then look at Jon close to Aemon and walk to him with a smile.

The moment you close the gap between one another he grabs you by the back of your neck and gives you a kiss, making you cup his cheeks to deepen the steamy gesture.

“I missed you,” you say between kisses even if you had seen him not so long ago.

Jon smirks. “I missed you too.” He says back and you only move more in sync as if you have never ever kissed one another before.

Honestly as you gotten older you have only grown more passionate about each other…maybe that’s why you have six biological children. And why Aemon was such a surprise when you found out you were with child.

Perhaps if you had gotten together sooner than you’d have more. But then again you’re also glad you don’t have more, raising seven kids is a hassle and a frequent headache.

Regardless, when you pull apart Jon and wipes your lips with his thumb and interrogates you. “How was it?”

You sigh. “You know it was eventful…as always. Lord Umber came.”

Jon blinks in surprise and narrow his gaze. “Lord Umber?” He repeats. “Whatever for?”

“You’ll like this,” you say sarcastically. “He came to complain about the Freefolk.”

Jon rolls his eyes and sighs out of annoyance. “I swear one single Freefolk can pass by minding their business and people complain. When will it end? I can’t imagine how much Sansa has to hear about it.”

You chuckle and nod. “But that’s why she has Mors, he helps her keep level headed.”

Jon smiles softly and nods. “You are right.”

You shoot him a smirk. “I always am. I was right about them.”

Jon scoffs, but before he can say anything back, the sound of a stomping foot steals your attention to Aemon.

“Can you two stop,” he signs with annoyance expressing in his dark eyes. “You can kiss later when I’m not here. It’s gross.”

Jon and you chuckle. “Fine,” you give in. “I’ll go, leave you two men here. Just remember, dragon training later.”

Aemon nods in comprehension before he turns back to focus on his target practice with Jon.

“Just don’t think too much about it,” Jon advises the boy. “And relax your bow arm. Okay?”

You smile in awe as Jon walks to Aemon to help him with his stance, and stand there to watch. A few seconds pass and this time when Aemon shoots he hits the edge of the target.

“Good,” Jon tells the smiling boy. “That’s better.”

You smile wider and linger there watching as Aemon high-fives his father.

Some would say that your relationship with your children shouldn’t be as strong as it, some say only the father should truly bond with their sons, but fuck all that. Jon wants to be close to all his kids, every single one of them, you do too. Others also say that you should send them away, only keep the heir here and have the others be wards or do something else, they especially encourage you to send Daeron away, but your heart can’t bare sending him away, you can’t send any of your kids anyway, besides what can other people teach them that you and Jon can’t?

Besides, you don’t trust anyone else to raise your children. Sure dealing with royal duties and children is difficult, but Jon is a big help, your court helps as well with royal duties, that’s why you have them. You can juggle both things, you enjoy it. And why have a big family if half of them are gone?

That’s why they’re all still here, that’s why you’re close to all of them. Or as close as you can be.

If Rhaenar were still here…the family would have been even bigger, he’d be a grown man with kids of his own….

Tears fill your eyes but you don’t cry, instead you turn away and walk to Daeron and Ryuu, noticing Ryuu lose this time because he was distracted by Samwell Tarly's youngest boy, Jon, passing by.

Daeron also notices that and then looks at you to share a teasing look you mirror. Ryuu only focuses back when you approach Daeron to help him.

“Hand less tense,” you advise him. “And make sure your feet are not so spread apart.” You use your own foot to push his legs closer together. “And…” you trail off and pull his arm closer to him. “There better.”

Daeron takes note of his stance and then looks at you and gives you a thankful nod. “Thank you mother,” he whispers.

You shoot him a smile and stand back. “Go on, show me.” You encourage, but as you watch them match again, you notice the judgmental stares the passerbyers give Daeron. Albeit when they catch you glaring at them they look away and go back to what they were doing.

Sure it’s obvious that Daeron isn’t your kid, nor may he look like a Baratheon like Daenerys wanted everyone to believe. Sure his eyes are green unlike your children’s who all inherited Jon's dark eyes. Daeron may be tall and slim because he resembles his real father, Daario. Sure Daeron doesn’t have that common Targaryen silver hair, but neither does Robb, Ryuu, Edria or Oraena. Yes his nose is aquiline like that of some of your Targaryen ancestors, he has that Targaryen beauty. But that doesn’t make Daeron any less of your child or their prince. Anyone who wants to argue against that can come speak to you and Eraxis. Simple.

“Have either of you seen Robb?” You ask the two boys once they finish their match. “I’m surprised he isn’t here.”

Daeron and Ryuu share a secret look before Daeron shares what he knows. “He’s off brooding somewhere.”

“Yes,” Ryuu bounces off his brother's comment. “He woke up in a very foul mood today. He’s at the cove.”

You hum and nod in comprehension before you part away to go there right away.

After a long walk to the cove behind the castle you find your eldest son, Robb sitting on the sand throwing shells in the water.

“Robb,” you make your presence known, even though you knew he heard you climbing down the stone steps.

Albeit even if you spoke he still doesn’t look back, he drops the shells from his hands and just watches the waves crashing on the shore in front of his boots.

“I didn’t see you with your father and your siblings at the training yard,” you continue as you slowly approach him. “Is everything okay? You like training.”

Robb lets out a deep sigh and drops his head, letting his black hair fall over his eyes. “It’s okay, you wouldn't understand.”

Oh, so we’re at that stage now.

You sigh and stop just behind him to take your shoes off before you sit beside him on the sand. “I can maybe try and understand then,” you press him softly. “Please.”

Robb blinks and keeps his head down, he stays quiet for a few more seconds before he swallows thickly and then interjects quietly. “I…I’m not like you. I’ve tried and I’ve tried to be like everyone else, but no matter how much I try I still fail. I’m…a disappointment. To you and father.”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and feel as if your heart sinks at the sound of his words. “In what way?” You probe and cup the back of his head. “Because all I see is someone who’s trying, someone who’s growing up. You’re still young Robb. You will fail and that’s okay. That’s how we all learn.”

Robb slowly lifts his head and meets your gaze with tears clouding his eyes. “But I don’t have a dragon, mother. Everyone else does, even father. Mine failed to be born to me. How does that look? The Targaryen prince who can’t have the one thing that makes us special?” He shakes his head and pushes your hand off his bead. “While you and father and all my other siblings fly I sit there watching, while you train with your dragons, I continue to sit there!”

You sigh deeply and feel your eyes fill with tears as you remember having a similar conversation with Rhaenar once. “You know,” you mutter and glance out at the crashing blue waves. “One time, before you were born. I had a very similar conversation with your older brother Rhaenar….he was afraid that his dragon egg wouldn’t be born to him because he was only half Targaryen….” You pause and glance down at your hands. “Do you want to know what I told him?”

Robb drifts his gaze to you and hums to press you for more.

You muster a small smile and then meet Robb’s dark eyes. “That it wouldn’t matter if it was born to him or not because he is still a Targaryen, because he still is great. That’s all that matters, so I tell you this now, my boy. It doesn’t matter if you bond with a dragon or not. It doesn’t,” you shake your head. “I won’t love you any less. Your father and your siblings won’t.”

Robb scoffs. “Father doesn’t love me as much.”

You lean towards him and counter. “Nonsense, your father loves you, but you are the one to blame for the distance with your father. He’s trying to reach out to you and at every attempt you push him away.”

Robb stays quiet knowing you’re right, letting you once again cup the back of his head.

“You don’t need a dragon to be great. That comes from here,” you say and point at his chest. “There are some brave men who turned out to be not so great even with dragons. And there are others who didn’t have a dragon ever and are legends; like your name-sake, your uncle Robb. He was a hero, a legend and a King and he had no dragon.” You smile and begin to caress the back of his head with your thumb. “Your uncle Tormund is a great warrior and a hero, and he also has no dragon. Ser Jaime was a great swordsman and had no dragon. I can go on and on and name personal hero’s I know that had no dragons and are still legends.”

Robb shakes his head softly. “But you do, and you’ve stopped three rebellions already during your reign as Queen because of Eraxis.”

You nod softly, knowing you can’t deny those claims. “That’s true. But are you me?”

Robb scoffs softly in amusement and shakes his head. “No.”

“Nor I do want you to be me, or your father,” you continue to assure him. “You don’t need a dragon. Daeron doesn’t have a dragon either.”

Robb huffs and averts his gaze before spatting, “Daeron is not my brother.”

Your eyes widen and you quickly argue back against him. “Don’t say that. Daeron is your brother. I may not have birthed him, but he is your relative, he is just as much of a Targaryen as you and your siblings. He is your brother, I wish you would stop arguing against that.”

Robb drops his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

You swallow thickly and don’t dwell on that topic any longer, instead you return to your previous conversation. “All I’m trying to say is that, you are not and will be any less of a Tagaryen if you don’t have a dragon. Now being great, that’s all up to you.”

Robb glances out at the water before he looks up at the sky as the sapphire-blue dragon is spotted miles above the water, lost in the clouds.

“I suppose you’re right,” Robb agrees quietly and a bit unsurely.

“I tend to be so,” you joke, making Robb side-eye you before he snickers.

“Yes,” he agrees. “You are.”

You beam. “At least someone sees it.”

The corner of Robb’s lips tug to a soft smile, but it doesn’t last long because it then begins to fall and go serious again. “Uncle Bran…” Robb mentions. “Said that he’s seen my late brother's dragon, Helios, at Dragonstone…can I go and try to claim him? Drogon also tends to be there uncle Bran says, so can I please try once?”

You’ve heard what happens if people don’t bond with dragons when they attempt to do it, it doesn’t end well. But who would you be if you deny him?

“All right,” you give in, “but…we will all go with you. You know what happens if a dragon doesn’t want to bond with a rider. So just in case something goes wrong we will be there to protect you….I couldn’t bear it you didn’t come back.”

Robb flashes you a faint grin. “All right…thank you mummy.”

You mirror his gesture but you then lean in and press a kiss on the side of his head.

Robb groans and gently pushes you away and grumbles, “mother, please.” His cheeks turn a tint of pink and he looks back to see if your Knights standing guard at the entrance of the cove saw.

You giggle. “I’m sorry. Now,” you sigh and stand up. “Come on. Let’s head inside. You can train with your sisters today.”

Robb pushes himself to his feet and rolls his eyes as he groans in protests. “Ugh, they’re terrible. They never focus.”

——

*LATER*

No matter how busy a day can be, no matter if there’s guests staying at the castle, Jon and you eat dinner with all of your kids. As chaotic as they can be all together, even if they have poor table manners when it’s just you, it’s the one thing you looked forward to the most.

It’s also Jon’s favorite part of the day now that you don’t have to deal with them as little children you have to help feed.

Albeit the one thing that does annoy you is sitting down to eat, you’d think that they’d have a favorite chair, but they fight about the seats. Always.

Like now for example, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes down the hall, whilst Jon insists on helping you to your seat because he says that you put enough weight on your leg that never fully healed after that battle where Gendry broke it.

“It doesn’t hurt as much today,” you assure him with a smile. “I sat for most of the day.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jon counters. “Now stop complaining.”

You shoot him a grin while the doors get pushed opened and in comes running footsteps.

“No,” you recognize Edria grumble. “Aemon I sit there! Get…”

“Ahaha!” Oraena laughs evilly, and when you peer back you see she had snuck around them and taken the seat next to Jon. You also can’t miss her pink and purple hatchling perched on her shoulder.

“Bitch.”

“Edria,” you warn her as you let Jon go and sit on the head chair.

“Sorry mother.” Edria mutters and bows her head before taking the seat next to her sister, making poor baby Aemon walk around the table.

“Here,” you pat the empty seat at your right side since the left one was where Jon sits. “You can sit next to me.”

Aemon’s chest falls and he sits down as if he was forced to do so.

“What?” You remark playfully. “You don’t want to sit next to your mother? Does the Queen intimidate you?” You giggle as you see him slowly begin to grin.

As the food begins to get placed down on the tables surface the four eldest walk in—or only Rhaenyra and Ryuu walk in gracefully because Robb and Daeron come running in shoving each other to see who can reach the seat all the way across from you, because it makes them feel…special?

Who knows really. They just always fight over it.

But in all reality they shouldn’t because it’s meant to be Jon’s seat, but you didn’t like how far he was from you so he took a different seat. And then after that it was meant to be for Rhaenyra considering she’s the eldest, but the boys got to fighting so she takes whatever seat is open. Which in this case is next to Aemon and across from Oraena.

“Oraena,” you call out as you ignore the two eldest boys still fighting over the seat to glance at your youngest daughter, and the one that’s turning out to look just like your mother, Elia. Which is a blessing, but it is also a curse at the same time because it does hurt your heart a bit because you still miss your mother so much.

“What did we say about hatchlings at the dinner table?” You tell Oraena.

The girl makes sure that both Jon and you are paying attention to her before she parts her lips to argue. “He can’t be without me. Daddy you know that, I’ve told you.”

You sigh and shake your head. “He needs to start learning, O, he can’t be perched on your shoulder forever.”

“He won’t,” she rebuttals sassily. “That would be impossible.”

You draw in a deep breath and drift your eyes to your left to ask Jon for help since he’s always the solution when it comes to dealing with Oraena.

“Your mothers right, O, he can’t be here. He needs to start learning to be more independent. But it’s a long way back to your quarters, so have this be the last time.”

Oraena beams at him. “Thanks daddy.”

Well that’s as good as that’s going to get.

Now hoping the other dilemma is dealt with, you look ahead. And thankfully the boys are seated already with Robb being the one who won the seat across from you, and Daeron sitting next to Ryuu. So now you can finally begin with dinner.

“Now that we’re all seated,” Jon interjects while the last meal is placed across from him. “Let us join in prayer.”

You all grab each other's hands around the table and duck your heads to do as Jon requested.

And you weren’t one much for prayer or religion, but Jon was, and ever since winning the grande war for the throne, he’s made sure to pray as a family before eating. At first it was to give thanks to his gods that you made it out alive. But as the family grew his prayer changed. Now every single evening he thanks his gods for this life he was blessed with, all his kids, and you. Every single day it's the same prayer.

One time Edria asked why it was the same thing every single night, and he put it simply, that once when he was a young man in the Night's Watch, even when he was a boy, he never thought that having a family of his own would ever be a possibility. So now that he has it he thanks the gods that he was blessed, that it's real and it’s not all a dream he has to wake up from.

He made you cry that day he said that.

Alas, now after prayer the eating begins. It’s usually filled with chatter, or depending on the day it’s quiet and calm. Today a few minutes in Edria interjects.

“I have a very important question, for you both mother…” she trails off and glances at Jon taking a bite of his chicken. “Father.”

You put your silverware down and probe with a curious look. “Okay, share it then.”

Edria puts her cup down and shifts in her seat to face both Jon and you better, in doing so showing the scar on her face that she got from secretly sparring with some man twice her age in a competition. She was 10. It was red for weeks, and she was ashamed of it because she said it ruined her beauty because it was long and cut from the bridge of her nose down to the corner of her jaw. But now she’s grown to love the scar.

“How does a woman have a child?” Edria asks seriously, causing Jon to choke on his food, and for the four eldest kids to snicker at both Jon and their curious sister.

“Yes, please tell us,” Ryuu cuts in mischievously.

You let out a shaky breath, and ignore Ryuu. “Uh, why do you ask?” You ask Edria nervously since this is so out of the blue.

“The milkmaid is with child,” Edria explains with her eyes wide as she grows bewildered. “And she’s only 15! 15! and she has no husband.” She falls back in her seat and continues to look at Jon and you.

“Well,” you help her since Jon is taken back that his 11 year old girl is asking such questions. “One doesn’t need to be married to have a child.”

Oraena gasps and leans in to slam her hands agasint the table. “What? So does that mean that I can be with child? I kissed the stable man’s son!”

The four oldest laugh harder, while Jon gasps and snaps his head to the side to shoot her a shocked and angry look.

“Oraena,” he says sharply.

You giggle at the innocence of her worry and shake your head as you grab Jon’s hand to give it an assuring squeeze. “No, silly girl. You don’t get to be with a child by kissing. But how about Edria, you and me talk after dinner about that stuff okay?”

“I can draw you a picture about how it’s done, sweet little sister,” Robb jokes as he leans over towards Edria.

Jon’s gaze snaps to Robb’s and he snaps back. “You won’t do no such thing.”

Robb sits back and snickers as he fist bumps Daeron who also finds amusement in it.

“You can draw it for me,” you hear Ryuu whisper to his brother over the table.

A tap then hits the table at your right, and Aemon begins to sign when you look at him. “Can I know too?”

You part your lips to answer, but Jon does so before you. “I can tell you when you’re older, buddy. Okay?”

Aemon let’s out a deep exhale and nods along slowly, making Jon offer him a soft smile, and for you to end this conversation.

“Now let’s put those matters to bed and focus on another thing, Robb,” you pull him in the conversation. “Why don’t you share with us what we planned earlier, hm?” You grab your silverware again to continue eating.

Robb sets his things down to begin rubbing his knees nervously. “Well since I don’t have a dragon…I want to go to Dragonstone to try and bond with Helios. Uncle Bran says he lives there, so I want to go.”

You hum in agreement and after you swallow your food you add on for him. “Since bonding with dragons isn’t the safest thing, I thought we could all go. Watch out for him, and take advantage of the moment and have a small family trip.” You smile and glance at everyone around the table.

“That sounds like a good idea, mother,” Rhaenyra interjects. “Also gives me a chance to race against father again.” She snickers and sips her wine.

Aemon taps the table and when you look to him he quickly signs. “Can Catelyn, Nymeria and Eira go too?”

You let out a disappointed sigh and shake your head. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I’m afraid they wont make it. It’s just a small trip. But,” you try to assure him as you lean towards him. “Aunt Sansa and uncle Mors, and the girls will come in a couple weeks for a visit. That sound good?”

Aemon nods and grins.

“Really? They’re coming? Great!” Oraena asks with excitement since Sansa’s eldest daughter is 10 just like her, and they get along very well. It’s also why Aemon wants them to come because Sansa’s middle child, Catelyn, is 8 just like him.

“Anyway, Daeron, once we get to Dragonstone, maybe you can bond with a dragon too,” you direct at him so he doesn’t feel left out. “I’ve seen two wild dragons at the Dragonmount. That skinny brown one, and the teal one that looks like Ryuu’s. ”

Daeron meets your gaze and offers you a gentle smile and a light nod. “Yes, I would like that.”

You mirror his smile, and then share your happy smile with Jon.

Now all there’s left to do is hope that either of them bond with a dragon. If they don’t it’s okay, having a dragon doesn’t define them, but they really want to, so you’ll carry hope for them.

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

“Boys,” Jon murmurs as he continues to try and progress what he heard Oraena say. “She’s kissing boys.”

You smile at the mirror you’re using as you catch his baffled expression while he lays down.

“How old were you when you kissed a boy?” Jon asks and looks at you through the mirror.

You turn around to face him whilst you continue to spread cream over your arms. “15. But don’t worry, when I asked Oraena she said she was just curious.” You pick the cloth from the vanity to clean your hands. “It's okay to be curious. If we try to forbid them from something they’ll only act out…I know that from experience.”

Jon chuckles softly. “I know that…” he trails off and sighs. “It’s just she’s so young…in my eyes at least. She’s my little girl.”

You begin to smile in awe as you walk to your side of your shared bed.

“What? Soon she’ll stop following me around as well?” He asks, making you giggle.

“Aye, she will.” You tell him the truth as you climb on the bed and crawl to his side. “She’ll grow up, get an attitude, she’ll want to leave and then Aemon will follow and we’ll be alone.”

Once you’re laying beside Jon, he wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses you agasint him as you both admire the ceiling above. “I suppose it’s what every parent wants right? For them to live their lives,” he whispers. “I was so caught up taking care of them that I forgot that.”

You press a kiss on his chest and then begin to caress his shoulder with your finger. “Yeah,” you agree softly. “They’re all so unique and chaotic…the day is never not eventful,” you laugh. “I never expected that.”

Jon hums softly. “Nor I. I always thought my life was going to be dull and boring in the Night's Watch….now…” he trails off as he can’t find what to say.

You albeit lift your head and meet his gaze. “What would you younger self say if he knew this was going to be your life?” You ask out of curiosity. “I mean you're a prince and have seven kids. Seven.”

Jon begins to smile in admiration and shakes his head softly. “I wouldn’t believe you. I wouldn’t believe it. I was a bastard who was just a burden to my family, a shame they had to hide. At the Night's watch I started from nothing and then rose higher, but I never knew if I would live to see another day…after I left that remained the same. Now—”

“You’re a Prince Consort,” you interject. “A hero of the Seven Kingdoms, my husband, and a father. A great one at that.” You grin at him and then raise your hand to cup his cheek. “Who thought you’d get this far huh?”

“Well I’m a great father only because I have you,” he compliments you and begins to caress your chin. “Without you I don’t know how I would do it.”

You hum softly and press a kiss on his lips. “Sometimes I think war is easier,” you admit.

Jon chuckles and nods. “Oh so much easier. I mean I don’t miss fighting battles, but it was easier. Now here with the kids I have to be careful how I step…one wrong move and someone’s angry at me…like Robb. Albeit with him I don't know where I went wrong. And if I try to retrace my steps I end up more lost.”

You exhale deeply and lay your head back down on his chest. “He’s just feeling left out without a dragon.”

“Is that what he said?” Jon asks.

You nod. “Basically yes. He feels like he doesn’t belong. Like you hate him because of it.”

Jon shakes his head quickly. “Never. I never could.”

“I know, but he’s just feeling insecure. It’s part of growing up, but the best thing you can do is keep trying, okay? Maybe try and talk to him. Take him out. Go hunting, or do something he likes.” You suggest.

Jon’s chest rises as he draws in a deep breath, and then pulls your head down as it falls when he breathes out. “I hope he wants to.” He says.

“Oh, he will,” you assure him. “My only hope now is that if he doesn’t get that dragon he doesn’t spiral. He’s so dependent on getting one. Like if his life depends on it. Is it bad to expect that from him?” You ask quietly as if Robb could hear. “Does that make me horrible?”

“No,” Jon answers without hesitance. “You’re just worried, we know how he is. You’re just preparing so it doesn’t sneak up on you….but I don’t know either…I think we just have to be there for him. Support him.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod in agreement.

You’ll still hope he does get his dragon though.

——

*SOMETIME LATER. DRAGONSTONE*

“I live simply with hope for a better today for tomorrow is not promised.”

You lower your gaze and meet the dark gaze of Rhaenyra as she closes the book in her hand.

“That’s my favorite book,” you tell her. “I especially like it when you read it to me.” You caress her chin and she flashes you a smile.

Due to her being heir, now that she’s older and understands more matters, you like to have her by your side at small council meetings, hearings, really anything to do with Queen duties to get her prepared. It’s why your relationship is stronger now than it was before, because you’re with each other most of the day.

“I know. It’s one of my favorites too,” she says as she flips around to lay on her stomach on the blanket you have over the sand. “What did you draw?” She asks you.

You smirk and hand her your sketch journal to show her the drawing you drew of her as she was reading with her head on your lap.

“I shall have it hanged,” she says. “Maybe in the art gallery at home. I love it. I wish I could draw as good as you.”

“You do have an amazing talent for music,” you comfort her. “You brought your father to tears when you played the harp for the first time, remember?”

Rhaenyra snickers as she drops her head. “Father cries for my smallest achievements. When I become Queen will he sob?” He pokes fun at him.

“I bet you he will,” you play along. “10 golden dragons that he does.”

Rhaenyra glances over at Jon playing some game with Ryuu and smirks. “I’ll take that bet.” She flips back around to lay her head on your lap and takes time to admire the blue sky overhead. “Can I tell you something?”

You hum in agreement whilst you look at Aemon a few feet down the beach flying his kite.

“Robb snuck girls into his chambers last week,” Rhaenyra sells out her twin brother, causing you to snap your eyes to her and shoot her a narrowed gaze.

“What?” You scoff in disbelief.

Rhaenyra nods. “He and Maester Sam’s Jon were getting drunk and probably laying with those woman.”

Oh not Sam’s Jon, you do notice Ryuu’s crush on the older boy. This will break his heart.

“Who else knows?” You ask her and catch Ryuu laughing with Jon.

“Just me and Daeron, just don’t tell him I told you,” she lets you know.

You sigh and look around for Robb and Daeron but they continue not to show up on the beach. “I’ll talk to your father and then talk to Robb. Because if he gets one of those girls pregnant he will have to take care of it.”

Rhaenyra snorts. “Yeah, sure he will. He can’t even wipe his own ass right.”

You lower your eyes to look at her and try not to laugh, but you can’t help but let out a soft giggle.

“Ahh help me!” A shout cuts through the breezes. “Let me go! Daddy!”

You snap your eyes to where it comes from and see Edria wrestling with Oraena in the shore. And just as Jon breaks away from where he is you get up to and rush over to the pair of girls to try and break up the fight.

“Edria, let go of your sister!” Jon yells as he tries to pull her off, but Edria shifts away and shoves Oraena’s face in the water, causing Ryuu to laugh and Aemon to grasp onto you with worry.

“Edria!” You yell out, but it’s like going to deaf ears. The Queensguard try to step in, but you assure them that it’s okay. And luckily Jon manages to break them apart, letting you rush over to Oraena to pull her out of the water.

“Tell me what happened?” You demand from both of them as you grab Oraena’s chin as you notice scratch marks on her face. “Now.”

“Oraena splashed water in my eye after I told her not to and it stung!” Edria shouts and pulls away from Jon. “She—”

“Edria bit me!” Oraena counters and throws her arm up to show the bite mark on her wrist. “And she shoved me in the water!” Oraena looks up at you with her eyes clouding with tears and then glances at Jon. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she whines.

You let go of her and then look over at Jon and meet his gaze. You don’t say anything, but you share a speechless conversation through your gazes.

“You’re both grounded, we’ll come up with your punishments tomorrow Oraena,” Jon breaks it to them. “Edria, since you swung first you won’t attend training for a week, nor can you go dragon riding for that same amount of time.”

Edria gasps and twists around to face you with that same disbelief. “Mother, you cannot allow this!”

You nod. “I can and I will, you're sisters, not enemies at war. Now go to separate parts of the beach.”

Edria huffs out before she yells and kicks sand as she stomps away, whilst Aemon steps towards Oraena and signs at her very seriously. “Careful, O, you might want to get that checked out, Edria has rabies.”

Ryuu chuckles loudly and makes sure to let his sister know what was said. “Edria does have rabies! Nice one Aemon!”

Edria spins around quickly and parts her lips to speak, but you shoot her a warning look and she just glares at her bothers before she turns again and continues to storm away.

“Daddy please it was not my fault,” Oraena begs Jon as she begins to follow him towards where Rhaenyra stayed. “You can’t punish me.”

Jon tries not to look at her since he knows he’ll probably give in if he does. “Sorry, O, but your mother is right. You’re sisters, you shouldn’t be fighting.” He tells her.

“Ryuu,” you call out without having to look over at him. “Leave Edria alone. You’ll get her even angrier.”

“Will not!”

You roll your eyes and get ready to add onto the converstion Jon is having, but you’re quickly cut off by a different voice approaching the beach.

“Your Grace, my prince.”

You look up and see Ser May dragging Robb along with her, and you notice he’s sporting a bloody nose. After her follows Ser Podrick with Daeron following at his side, and he has a cut lip.

Great another fight.

“What happened?” You ask as you slowly approach the group meeting you half way

“We found them fighting just in the valley above,” Ser May shares and pushes Robb towards you.

You swallow thickly and glance at both boys, seeing that Daeron lowers his head out of shame, and Robb just glares past you, making sure not to look at either Jon or you.

“Were there any weapons?” You ask the Knights.

Ser Podrick shakes his head. “No, Your Grace. They seemed to be just fist fighting.”

You exhale deeply and nod. “Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you. Leave us.” You then look over at Rhaenyra and point your eyes to the castle.

And without fault the two knights do as they were ordered, whilst Rhaenyra takes her siblings along with her, even if they want to stay and gossip.

It’s only once the kids are out of ear shot that Jon interrogates both boys. “I will ask nicely now, what happened? I want the truth.”

Robb meets Jon’s gaze and then yours, but he then drops his eyes and doesn’t answer, letting you press Daeron with a glare.

But he stays quiet too.

“You both are grown men,” Jon raises his voice. “Act like one and tell us what happened now!”

Both boys continue to stay quiet for a moment longer, so Jon steps forward and grabs Robb by the collar of his shirt and presses him with anger. “You are the oldest, Robb, tell me now.”

Robb scoffs and pushes Jon away so he’d let go of him.

“Robb,” you say softer. “Daeron, one of you has to speak. Your mother demands it.”

Just as you think you’d have to repeat yourself Robb grumbles. “Daeron claimed Helios. My dragon! My brother's dragon!” He sneers out at Daeron.

Damn it.

“I told you already I did not do it on purpose,” Daeron argues back softer. “It was not to spite you.”

You and Jon share a concerned look. And rather than trying to solve this, Jon lets you do it since you know more about dragons.

“Robb, it does not work like that and you know it. Yes I am sorry that it happened, but…it was just not fate for you to bond with Helios.” You try to grab his shoulder but he steps back from your touch. “Robb, you can bond with another. This is not the end and nothing to get angry over. Fate did not want it that way, it’s that simple.”

Robb sniffles and then glares at you. “You told me. You promised!”

You shake your head. “I did not do such a thing—”

“We were here for me!” Robb cuts you off abruptly. “But as always Daeron makes it about him!” Robb points at his brother and begins to stomp towards him, but Jon pulls him back. “Helios was my dragon!”

“Helios was no one’s dragon,” Jon rebuttals. “And it’s no reason to be fighting your brother for it.”

“He is not my brother,” Robb hisses and pulls his arm away from Jon’s touch. “He’s the son of a—”

“Robb,” you bellow. “That’s enough. Go to your quarters now. Calm down. We’ll go talk to you again.”

Robb throws his arms up and parts his lips to argue back, but he just glances at all of you before he lets out a feigned laugh and turns to storm away.

“Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t mean it,” Jon tries to assure Daeron. “He’s just angry.”

Daeron glances back at Robb and nods softly. “Yes, I know. You have to know I didn’t do it to be malicious. I found Helios when I was walking down to the beach and I just…” he pauses and his eyes soften as his lips tug to a smile. “I just had this feeling.”

You mirror his soft smile and nod. “Yes, we know that feeling exactly. And I know your intentions are pure. Robb is just…” you sigh. “Angry. Don’t let that ruin your moment. Okay? Celebrate if you must.” You grab his chin and caress it. “Congratulations my sweet sunspot.”

Daeron offers you a sweet smile and nods in comprhension.

You then exhale deeply and look to Jon. “I’ll go talk to the others, explain what happened.” You tell both men.

Jon nods and then presses a kiss on your cheek. “Go I want to talk to Daeron.”

You let your gaze linger on both Jon and Daeron once more before you break away and head for the castle alone with your thoughts.

Like why is it that Robb and Daeron can’t get along. And it’s not like no one can get along with Daeron, it’s just Robb who finds his indifferences with him. But why? You nursed the both of them, they got long as toddlers, you don’t favor one over the other, so why?

Sometimes it feels like you’re failing her…Daenerys. You try so hard, but no matter what, Robb can’t find it in his heart to welcome him, to think of him as one of his siblings. It can’t be just because they’re men, there has to be a reason, but what?

“I’m sorry Daenerys,” you whisper to the blue sky.

A/N- One more chapter left! 😓 also did you catch the parallels?

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

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docholligay · 6 months

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Doc how do you feel about a Harry Potter-inspired YA book that really...wait! Where are you going?

I think the real bullshit tragedy of Harry Potter is: I truly and actually can really, really love magic shit. Magic, and the limits of it, and learning how to master it, these are all things that I can genuinely love. Part of the reason that I am so angry about my own personal True Blood, Shadow and Bone*, is that I LOVE the magic system as she is set up, I love the IDEA behind it, I love that the underpinnings of how they have set it against the Not!Europe at the edge of Not!WW1 is DRIPPING WITH POSSIBILITY.

But so much of this magical school/magic user/fantasy world shit is caught up in God's Specialist Boy Chosen One narratives, which are not interesting to me, an old woman who sees the world won and lost on the back of groups and teamwork. I am no longer fantasizing about being the Chosen One, I am fantasizing about a group of talented people who can communicate and compromise JUST well enough to keep the world going, because that is a fucking adult fantasy world, let me tell you.

It's that and it's Thing One and Thing Two falling in love and that's the central piece and there is no amount of QUILTBAG or racial or cultural identities you could put on Thing One and Thing Two that would make that compelling for me. Have you noticed in my writing there's very few meet-cute, how they got together stuff? It's not just that interesting to me. I like love! Romantic and platonic both! But what matters to me are what those relationships mean to us, and what they make us do, and how they move us in tension with our other ideals. I would much rather open with Fareeha Amari, married, somehow, though she has a clear stick up her sculpted ass, and over time, we see what it is Angela sees in her, what she saw in her when they DID meet, what there IS under all of it, but all of that is SO much more fun when I already know that she has brought the same level of intensity and devotion that she does for everything from military maneuvers to a trip to the grocery store.

But I LOVE magic, especially in less-magic contexts. So for example, I really, for a time, loved the Dresden Files before it really sharply fell off even as pulp. I would ADORE a grown up magical girl story that was really an urban fantasy type. I want Minako to be 23 and trying to make rent. Part of why Shadow and Bone (GOD I AM SO FUCKING MAD ABOUT THIS I BLAME YOU JEWLET) got to me is I loved that the magic users aren't an accepted part of life, that what they do is odd and awed. I have inserted my blorbos into it, of course I have. But yes, i love when the magic is grounded in the BOREDOM of a 'real' world instead of Lorde Filip DuKazmeri of the Throne of Blood and Tears riding in from Happenstance-upon-Milquetoast on his dragon with a Slintergast** at his hip.

ANYWAY, all this to say that when Harry fucking goddamn potter came around, so much magic that is based in 'reality' became patterned after that, and I'm just, so tired of reading it, and I'm so tired of the geegaws and easy morality because fantasy wants rto either be straight Up YA or teehee adult fiction that's mostly a cover for being YA gaymance, and so fantasy and I essentially broke up in like....2009? I want to say? Maybe 2010? Sometime around there, and I rarely drive past its house to see what's going on anymore, the well is fully poisoned now.

*the really bad Netflix television show that is also not good and I recommend to no one. I will not read the books, i have suffered enough.

**sword but like, real cool looking.

#goddamnit this is the only ask i got done #y'all I am not gonna lie this new schedule is brutal for me #I am struggling.

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briebysabs · 2 years

Text

I want to talk about vnc chapter 12/episode 7

Why? Because I need to finally rant so just bare with me *inhales* WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS I DON’T THINK WE LOSE OUR MINDS ENOUGH

I almost want to go panel by panel bc I still can’t believe this chapter exists. When I’m seriously interpreting/analyzing something in a series I try to look from an objective POV. Basically I push aside my shipper heart to see what the author is trying to do canonically. But every time I go back to this specific chapter, the only thing I get out of it is that Noé is going to fall in love with Vanitas. And for the first time, I feel like this is a possibility that could actually happen and that’s crazy. So okay let me go slowly bc what?!!!

First of all, the chapter frames Noé, Vanitas, and Jeanne in certain perspectives quite oddly. The anime does too so that’s why some believe Noé likes Jeanne instead. Which kinda doesn’t make sense for a number of reasons. Now there can definitely be some vampiric connection between the two.

But in terms of romantic interest, it doesn’t add up. Hell we’re 40 + chapters ahead of this one and I can count on my fingers how many lines they’ve said to each other. So if Noé liked Jeanne, it definitely would’ve come back into play by now. After Vani and Jeanne run off, Noé goes after them immediately. And given we’ve seen how fast he is, it’s most likely he heard and also saw their encounter. Meaning Noé knows 1) the uncertainty of Jeanne being a curse-bearer or not 2) her deal with sucking only Vanitas’ blood.

Now mind you, this was 44 chapters ago and Noé still has not told anyone this. Going back to him being good at keeping secrets but that’s it’s own topic. Then he gets this sad look on his face. Now what he ends up telling Domi is the truth. And I want to be more clear on this. I do not think at this point in the story Noé loves Vanitas. It’s more so how this chapter ends is what leaves me stunned but we’ll get there. Plus the fact that Domi, till now, thinks Noé likes Jeanne IS VERY PROOF THAT’S NOT THE CASE.

So when you do the process of elimination, Vanitas is the only logical answer!!! And this freaking line. This is a strong statement for someone whose only upset about a missed opportunity to taste some blood.

His heart was in pain. WHAT THE FUCK

But that’s the thing. Noé doesn’t lie. But he omits A LOT. It also can be that he just doesn’t fully understand so his mind jumps to the obvious conclusion. But if he does think there’s more to it, Noé didn’t tell Domi. Now we get the real meat of it all. Oh my lord so Noé poses the question: Why don’t Vanitas dance with Jeanne? And Vanitas gives the excuse that he’ll accidentally step on her. We later find out he can dance just fine, so perhaps a part of him is already giving distance. Not willing to be close to Jeanne beyond teasing.

Now...MOCHIJUN DID NOT HAVE TO DRAW IT LIKE THIS. She could’ve had Noé smiling and pull Vanitas in to dance without any close-ups. She could’ve made it a silly moment but no, we are meant to take this scene seriously

I’ve noticed Noé has a number of scenes that there’s a small panel to the side where his eyes are covered. And I think a lot of the time it was a moment involving Vani. It gives off the impression that Noé is feeling something the author doesn’t want to make obvious.

And then we get the fucking line. Let’s say I’m reading this all wrong. The fact that mochijun has her two male protagonists dancing together as one asks ‘what is love?’ Is proof that she is at the very least, not unwilling to go there. LIKE DO WE KNOW HOW WILD THIS REALLY IS? I truly believe the fandom accepted this moment way too casually.

Noé asking almost contemplative what Vanitas sees in Jeanne. Remember he knows Vanitas wants Jeanne to suck only his blood. He is confused why Vanitas suddenly gravitates to Jeanne. Vanitas lists his reasons, one that includes that she’ll never love him back. Noé is rightfully confused by this but Vanitas states that she doesn’t have to love him back. If mochijun wants to go the romantic route for Noe’s ‘love’ IT WILL BE EXACTLY THIS. Because if she goes the romantic direction. First and foremost, I will have the highest respect for this woman bc I know she must’ve entered a battlefield for that to happen. But more so, if my interpretation of all this is right. Noé may never tell Vanitas. Think about it.

Noé believes Vanitas loves Jeanne. So out of kindness for Vani’s happiness, he wouldn’t say anything. That’s just the type of person Noé is. But also, the amount of effort, time, and vulnerability it took for Noé to get as close as he is with Vani. You think he’s going to risk jeopardizing ALL of that? And that’s the tragedy and beauty of it all. Vanitas doesn’t have to know that Noé loves him. No one has to know. But if again, this possibility is canon, we the audience know it’s going to be a inevitable regret down the line.

Finally the chapter concludes with future Noé narrating how this feeling will be a mystery for quite some time. I’d like to point out how Vanitas didn’t dance with Jeanne in fear of stepping on her toes but Noé does exactly that to him. Honestly my second favorite chapter. It felt like seeds were being planted for them to sprout into fruition later on. So many little details felt purposeful and it was the moment I really believed in vnc’s writing.

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specialagentlokitty · 10 months

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Thomas Barrow x Teen!reader - the bond that keeps us going

Part four:

Thomas was ordered to carry you to your bed, and your father moved him aside to sit next to you, holding your head up and tilted to the side a little as you coughed blood into a pan.

“Where’s doctor clarkson?!” He yelled.

“Here my lord! He’s just arrived!” Mr Carson said.

The doctor rushed in and pushed everyone away from you, and Thomas was dragged away and back down the stairs to the hall where the once happy occasion was now dark and grim.

“I need to be up there!” Thomas yelled.

“You need to sit down and calm yourself!” Mr Carson snapped.

Thomas threw himself into a chair, and he ran a hand down his face as he took a small breath.

Anna walked over, placing a hand in his shoulder, Mrs Hughes and Daisy walking over to stand by them.

“How does it look Mr Carson?” O’Brian asked.

“We won’t know until lady (Y/N) has been looked at, then we will know more.”

They all stayed quiet, and Thomas couldn’t sit there anymore so he got up and began to walk away.

“Thomas!” Daisy called.

“Leave him, I’ll go..” Anna whispered.

She followed Thomas down to the servants hall, and he leant against the wall, hand covering his mouth.

“I don’t know why I’m crying really…” he whispered.

“Because you care about her Thomas, we all do, but you know her better than all of us.” Anna spoke gently.

“So do you…”

“Not better than you.”

Anna placed a hand on his arm, resting her head on his arm as well, and Thomas took a shaky breath.

“She was doing so well…” he whispered.

“She’s sick, we all know that.”

Thomas glanced down at the housemaid.

“She’s… she’s to young to die..”

His voice cracked and Anna looked up at him.

“Sit down. Come on.”

She guided him to one of the chairs and sat him down, and she stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder.

“Lady (Y/N) is not going to die Thomas, okay?”

“You don’t know that…”

“Maybe not, but thinking she will is not going to make it any better. We have to have hope.”

Thomas nodded his head and he tried to gather his composure again.

He knew Anna was right, him believing that you were going to die wasn’t going to help the situation, and it was going to upset him even more.

But he was just glad to be away from everybody else, so he didn’t have to see they were looking at him in pity.

He didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to be looked at in pity, or treated like a little child who had lost a parent or a sibling, he didn’t want any of that.

He wanted to be treated just like normal, so at least he could try and ease his worries, so he wouldn’t have to be constantly reminded of your condition.

Upstairs in your room, you had finally stopped coughing, but you were still finding it hard to breath, but you had fallen asleep.

“How is she?” Lady Mary asked.

“If I’m to be honest my lady, not good.”

“Will she make it?” Your mother asked.

The doctor sighed heavily.

“If she survives the night, then she has a better chance of living, but she would need to be taken to the hospital in London.”

“You don’t sound so convinced.” Lord Grantham said.

“I’m not my Lord, with lady (Y/N) illness unknown to us all we have no idea how to treat or manage it. All we can do is pray and hope for the best.”

“What are you saying Doctor Clarkson?” Your mother asked.

He glanced at you, then over to them.

“I would suggest you say your goodbyes tonight. If she survives, I can have her taken to London tomorrow first thing, but she could be there for a while, and she may not make it there either.”

“Thank you, can we have a room set up for you, just in case?” Lord Grantham asked.

“If you wish me to stay of course my lord.”

They set up the doctor a room, and finally Lord Grantham made his way down the stairs to speak to the servants.

“How is she my Lord?” Mrs Hughes asked.

“It’s not looking good I’m afraid, thank you all for waiting and I am sorry about your evening. Leave this mess for the morning, go get some rest, lord knows we will all be needed it.”

They nodded, and Lord Grantham called for Mr Carson who hung behind.

“Should you wish to say your goodbyes to (Y/N) please do so now, and Thomas if you find him.”

“I believe he went downstairs with Anna my Lord.”

Lord Grantham nodded.

“I will find them papa, go.” Lady Edith said.

“Thank you.”

Mr Carson and your father went upstairs again, and Lady Edith went downstairs to the servants hall and Thomas and Anna both quickly stood up.

“How is she my lady?” Anna asked.

“Not well, will you come with me Thomas? Anna you are more than welcome to come as well.”

“Of course my lady..” Thomas whispered.

Anna went with the pair, up to your room and they all walked over to your bed where Mr Carson was sat holding your hand.

He looked up at Thomas.

“Come make your peace.” He said.

“No…” Thomas whispered.

“Thomas if you do not make your peace now you may come to regret it.” Anna whispered.

Thomas looked at her, then walked over, taking the seat next to your bed.

He held your hand, looking at your pale and sickly looking form.

Though you were asleep and spent a lot of time recently sleeping, you looked exhausted, as if you hadn’t slept for years.

Thomas cleared his throat, and took a small breath.

“Can she hear us?” He asked softly.

“I like to believe she can.” Your mother softly replied.

They all stepped to the other side of the room to give him some privacy.

“You cannot go just yet… you have many things you want to do…” he whispered.

He hoped for a reply, but he knew he wasn’t going to get one.

“If you want to go, that’s okay. I know you have been fighting this for a long time, much longer than I have been here…”

He cleared his throat again.

“I hope that you can find your peace… feel the world move beneath your feet and that the sun warms you. I hope you can find it in yourself to finally ease your pain.”

Everyone looked over at him.

“You told me once when you passed you would be dancing and singing with all your might in heaven, and I believe you will be.”

Thomas looked down at the floor.

“I believe you will have the best place in heaven, where all the nicest people go, that is where you belong….”

Thomas looked back up at you.

“Thank you for everything you have done for me… and I’m sorry I could not save you from this… but I promise I’ll come visit you every day…”

“That was wonderful Thomas.” Your mother smiled.

“Thank you my lady.”

“Get some sleep, all of you. We’ll let you know if anything changes.” Lord Grantham spoke.

After bidding everyone goodnight they left, and Thomas was walked back to his room by Mr Carson who sat him on his bed.

“I do not agree with you on many things you do Thomas, but I do agree that lady (Y/N) will go to the best place in heaven.”

Thomas nodded his head and Mr Carson left.

Sitting on his bed, Thomas held the pocket watch your gave him for Christmas and he found himself unable to sleep, scared that if he did he would miss something important.

So he stayed awake, pacing his room, sitting on his bed, staring at the wall.

There was a small knock on his door and he rushed up to answer it.

“My lord?”

“Hello Thomas, I’m sorry if I woke you up, but she’s awake and she’s been asking for you to read to her.”

“Of course my Lord, May I change?”

Lord Grantham nodded his head, and closed the door and Thomas rushed to change into his liveries and followed Lord Grantham up to your room.

Doctor Clarkson was in there along with your family, and you were sat up in bed, breathing heavily.

“You need to go back to sleep.” Doctor Clarkson said.

You weakly shook your head and held the book tightly in your arms.

“May I read to you my lady?” Thomas asked gently.

You gave a weak nod and he smiled, walking over he sat next to your bed and took the book from your hands and opened it to the page he had marked the last time.

Thomas began to quietly read to you, and everyone sat or stood around to listen.

Your eyes just stared at the wall opposite you, your hand holding your mothers as she sat next to you, and you listened to Thomas quietly read.

Your chest hurt, it felt like it was bruised or broken, it hurt so much, and each breath came out as agony for you.

Thomas read until the next chapter and you heard him put the book down.

“Thank you Thomas, you may go now.” Doctor Clarkson said.

“No…” you whispered.

“My lady with all due respect I wish only for your family to be here.”

Thomas placed his hand over yours.

“I will see you in the morning..” he whispered.

You gripped his hand tightly, stopping him.

“That… is.. why.. he.. stays…” you breathed out.

The doctor looked at your father who looked at you.

“If she wants him to stay, he stays.” Your mother said.

“Cora…”

“No. If our daughter wants her favourite footman by her side in what could be her last hours here then he stays by her side.”

Your father sighed and nodded his head, and Thomas sat back down, turning his attention back to you while the doctor spoke to everyone quietly.

“You’ll be alright…” he whispered.

“Thomas…?”

He squeezed your hand a little.

“Will… I be… your favourite Angel..?”

Thomas gave a weak smile.

“Of course your will be lady (Y/N), you’ll be my favourite lady and my favourite Angel.” He said gently.

You smiled a little.

You rested your head back.

“Lady (Y/N)?”

You turned in his direction.

“You’re going to be okay. No matter what happens, I know you are going to be okay, and you needn’t be afraid of anything.”

“I’m.. not.. afraid…”

“Oh? And why is that?”

You smiled weakly, and you sat up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed as you reached out, placing your hands on his face.

You could feel he had been crying, and you wiped some of his tears away.

“Because… you’re here…”

Thomas smiled, holding your hands in his as he looked up at you.

“Hold on to this life lady (Y/N)…”

“I… will.. try…”

You took a breath, and you wheezed a little, and he furrowed his brows a little bit.

“You will be safe and sound, I promise you, no matter what happens. But you must rest, you need it.”

“They… will.. send.. you away…”

“And I will come back.”

“No…”

You sniffled a little, tears welling in your eyes as you looked in his direction, and you moved your hands to grip his sleeves tightly.

Tears ran down your face and you shook your head.

“Don’t.. go..” you cried quietly.

“He must go.” You father said quietly.

You stood up on weak legs and hugged Thomas tightly, and he carefully lowered you to the floor, hand on your back as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

“No…”

“(Y/N), I know you care for Thomas, but you need to sleep to get better…” Doctor Clarkson whispered.

You shook your head, sniffling a little, coughing a bit.

“Calm down…” Thomas whispered.

He ran his hand up and down your back.

“If you get worked up you could make it worse again…”

You weakly nodded your head and held him tightly, trying to control your emotions.

“He.. stays…”

You sniffled, and closed your eyes, making sure to ball your hands into the fabric of his liveries tightly so they couldn’t pry you away.

Everyone shared a look.

“I’m.. scared…”

“You said you were not afraid…” Thomas whispered.

“I.. lied..”

Thomas sighed softly, placing his hand on the back of your head.

“You needn’t be scared, in no time you’ll be running around again and going for walks.”

You nodded and sniffled again.

“Don’t.. take him.. away… please..”

“Robert we can’t take him away from her, look at her.” Your mother whispered.

“I agree papa, she’s so scared. Let Thomas stay by her side.” Lady Mary said.

“And when she goes to London? She needs to get used to not having him around.”

“Well that is an issue for the morning, papa look at them. Are you really going to break that apart just because you don’t want a footman in the room?” Lady Edith whispered.

Lord Grantham looked at you, clutching tightly to the servant as if your life absolutely depended on having him with you.

“Alright, fine. Thomas can stay, but he cannot go to London with her.”

“That’s fine, we can sort that out.” Your mother smiled.

She walked over, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Thomas will stay, can you let him go now?” She asked.

“No…” you grumbled.

She laughed softly, looking at you.

She smiled a little to herself, you used to do the same thing to Mr Carson when you were a little girl, anywhere he went you wanted to go with him. He was your best friend.

And now Thomas was your best friend.

“Well you cannot sit on the floor all night.” Lord Grantham said.

You nodded your head, insisting that you could.

“How can you be so stubborn when you are so sick?” Lady Mary laughed.

“Because…” you mumbled.

Thomas smiled a little, standing up and lifting you up with him, and you still refused to let go, you put your head on his chest instead.

“Go to bed.” He said.

“No…”

“Lady (Y/N) I will be sat right by your side, okay? I promise.”

You sat down on your bed, holding his hand and he sat down.

“I will stay right here and I will not move.”

“Okay..”

You laid back down, and you held out your other hand.

“Papa…”

He walked around and sat on the bed next to you, taking your hand.

“I’m here too. I will stay as well, we all will.”

You smiled weakly and nodded, closing your eyes to go back to sleep again and the room fell silent for the fear of waking you up once more.

If you did make it through the rest of the night, you would go to London tomorrow, and if you were so insistent on having your friend by your side now, they only wondered what you would be like when it came to leave the house

#downton abbey x reader #downtown abbey #downton abbey #downton abbey x you #Thomas Barrow #thomas barrow x you #thomas Barrow imagine #thomas Barrow x reader

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