#heirs of new garden

[six-magnitude-girl]

The Heirs

Chapter: 1/7 Day 1 - @eremikaauweeks

Tags: Meteor Garden AU, High school AU, arranged marriage, enemies to friends to lovers, rich people problems

A/N: I got the title from this korean drama called The Heirs.

Note: This is more of a preview as I haven't finished writing it yet.

Eren is suddenly blocked by men in black suits. He recognized one of them as his mother's security detail.

"What do you guys want?" he crossed his arms hating how everywhere he looked, all he saw was himself reflected on the shades the men around him were wearing. 

"The madam wants to see you." Eren clicked his tongue and tried to make a run for it. 

The security detail must have been expecting him to put up a fight because they immediately put a sack on his head before everything went black. 

When he woke up, he was already wearing a suit that his older brother typically wears. Across the table is his mother who motioned for the waiter to give him water. 

Normally, he'd already be screaming and demanding to know where they are but the boy ignored his mother because he was finding her behavior becoming harder to swallow as time went by. She's taking her usual antics to the next level these days. 

Eren remained silent and didn't touch the water either even with the fact that he was parched. 

The door of the private function room opened and Eren couldn't stop himself from reacting strongly upon seeing Marisu being escorted inside by her mother's aide. 

“WHAT IS THIS?!" he slammed the table. "Mom, why do you have to involve her?”

Eren’s on his feet alternating between glaring and looking at Marisu who’s grimly standing by the door. He's about to go to her and get them out of there but the bodyguards quickly restrict his movements. 

There was nothing he could do but struggle and growl to get their hands off of him to no avail. 

Everyone stopped in their tracks when the door opened again. 

A black-haired girl their age entered the room. Unlike Marisu, she received a warm welcome from Dina. 

The newcomer looked unsure but returned Dina's goodwill. "Thank you for inviting me to dinner, madam." 

Dina didn't waste any more time and informed the dazed and confused teens why they were there, "This is your future wife, Mikasa Ho." 

Mikasa and Eren's widened eyes instinctively fell on each other. 

"Madam-" 

"I AM NOT MARRYING ANYONE!" Before Eren could say anything further, two more people entered the room. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Ho!" Upon seeing her parents enter the room, Mikasa gave up trying to get a word in and just observed everyone.  

The teens watched dumbfounded as their elders exchanged pleasantries. 

"I didn't think you'd make it so I had someone pick my future daughter-in-law." 

Mr. Ho held his wife's hand, "Just because we finally found our missing daughter doesn't mean we'll neglect Mikasa." 

"I understand your dedication to giving equal attention to your daughters. If I could, I would split myself in half to be with my sons." Dina might be a legitimate royal princess and the wife of the CEO of the largest hospital chain in the world but she is a mother first and foremost. 

"Our Mikasa is a little on the shy side. For years, we have had to drag her to meet people so we ask for your patience." The couple smiled and turned to Eren as well who was in between fight or flight with how on the edge he is. 

"What are you talking about? Your daughter is perfect in every way, I've heard nothing but good things about her." 

The couple beamed at Dina's praise. 

"After all, it's better to be demure than to be a shameless one."

Marisu shifted her feet and looked uncomfortable with the way everyone in the room who was dressed to the nines turned to her after Dina's obvious jab at her. 

"Who is this girl?" Mrs. Ho eyed Marisu's well-worn Gucci dress as if it personally offended her.  

"This girl is Marisu Reeder." Without missing a beat Dina turned to Marisu, "I trust that you finally understand your place?" 

Marisu tearfully glanced at Mikasa standing beside her who only looked straight ahead as if nothing happening at the moment concerned her. 

That was enough for Dina and didn't demand an audible answer from her.

"What are we even doing standing around like this? Let's all sit." 

"I WON'T MARRY ANYONE SO LEAVE US BE!" Eren took advantage of the bodyguards stepping back and rushed towards the door to grab Marisu and get them out of there. 

Everyone wasn't sure what to do when shortly after Eren's defiant speech, he dragged Mikasa and left with her. 

***

The adrenaline that Eren feels didn't subside even after confirming that nobody chased after them. 

"Ignore my mother. She'll go away soon I-" Despite the resistance that Eren feels, he continued pulling on his companion's arm. He's looking everywhere to make sure nobody is tailing them. 

Fed up with the resistance, he was forced to let go of his companion's arm and was surprised to see the girl his mother wanted him to marry. 

"Who the fuck are you?!" Eren looked horrified when he realized that he mistakenly left Marisu to fend for herself. 

Mikasa rubbed her arm after getting him to let go of her and looked around the area as well thinking about how to get home. 

She blankly stared at the mess in front of her while the said mess started cursing her as if she was the idiot who grabbed the wrong girl.

It's already late at night and Eren is starting to realize that he has no money or cards with him. He started to walk away, leaving Mikasa behind. 

Mikasa stopped him from walking by standing in his way. 

"What?!" 

"Do you have money with you right now?" Eren is getting more irate by the minute.

"Are you fucking stupid? If I do, I would have taken a taxi right now to get home so don't think of borrowing money from me!" He gave her a dirty look and started walking away.

A taxi slowed down at Eren's side. He looked over his shoulder instinctively and was surprised to see Mikasa with her hand raised, waving at the taxi. 

Mikasa opened the car door and went inside the taxi but not before giving Eren a victorious look. 

It took everything for Eren not to start chasing after the taxi and curse at Mikasa for mocking him. 

***

It was early in the morning and the F4 uncharacteristically arrived early in school. 

The members of F4 belong to the four most affluent families in the New Eldian Empire and they have been friends since they were in diapers. 

It's moments like this that they are reminded why they stick around despite knowing that being Eren's friend is a full-time job. 

They couldn't stop laughing as he relayed the story of what happened yesterday. Even Armin who was either missing or sleeping is laughing with them. 

"Stop laughing!" Connie dodged Eren's blow and giggled. 

Jean didn't guffaw like Connie, as according to his mother, it could cause premature wrinkles but he has this wide smile on his face. He couldn't stop himself from laughing so motioned his lackeys away as he had finally settled on what ascot to wear for the day. "If you didn't want us to laugh then you shouldn't have told us the story."

Eren gave Jean a middle finger which Jean returned with enthusiasm. 

"Ascot bitch." Eren muttered under his breath. 

"I am guessing that making us laugh wasn't the only reason we're hearing about this," Armin decided that he had laughed enough and went to the root of the matter. 

Eren ran a hand on his nape in frustration. "Marisu's got to know that it was all a mistake right?" he asked quietly. 

The three only looked at him blankly before dissolving into laughter. 

Armin would rather not get tangled up with Marisu considering what happened the last time so he just leaned on the tree, hoping to catch some sleep except he couldn't. His expression turned pensive. "Let's go inside, there might be a storm coming." 

Jean sprayed some floral essence mist around his face, "Good idea, Armin!" 

It was a bright and sunny day without a cloud in sight. 

Even though students gawk at the F4, they know to give them a wide berth as they walk the halls of The Eldian Imperial Academy. 

Everyone is used to the F4 doing whatever they wish in school. The board of directors at the Academy made it a point to assign the F4 in separate classrooms. Each homeroom teacher assigned to the F4 has an allotted budget for any psychological, physical, or property damage they cause within school grounds. 

So Eren not paying attention to class is already considered a blessing. He's sitting alone in the last row of the lecture classroom staring out the window. 

His attention shifts to the front when he hears his classmates making a fuss. 

"YOU AGAIN!" 

Everyone looked back at Eren who stood up to point at Mikasa who was being introduced by the homeroom teacher. 

"What are you doing here?!" 

The homeroom teacher is sweating buckets and decided to follow Mikasa's example to ignore Eren and continue to introduce the new student. 

Eyes follow Mikasa as she finds a seat. Everyone, especially the girls in the class, is whispering among themselves. They are curious about Mikasa's involvement with Eren but were too scared to openly ask about it for fear that they would be subjected to Eren's ire. 

Eren was like a dog ready to pounce when he sees Mikasa approaching the last row. 

"You cannot sit here!" 

Mikasa ignored Eren and situated herself at the other end of the last row near the back door. 

Everyone would usually be clamoring to get rid of that something or someone that irritates Eren in hopes of gaining his favor but they are unsure of what to do because Eren and Mikasa clearly know each other. 

There's this tension in the classroom the whole time and everyone waits in bated breaths for Eren to make a move. 

Despite being in the same row, their respective seats are at the other ends of the lecture room but Eren keeps giving Mikasa looks of disgust as if she’s his new stalker. 

By the time he made up his mind to confront Mikasa, lunch break came and she was already long gone. 

Eren gritted his teeth and met up with his friends to tell them the latest development. 

“Where’s Armin?”

“He’s probably sleeping somewhere.” Jean shrugged. 

“So what happened next?” 

Before Eren could tell them the next part of the story, Marisu roughly opened the cafe door, getting everyone’s attention. She bypassed the in-house butler who tried to stop her as the cafe is for exclusive members only and marched right in front of Eren. 

“Congratulations on your engagement and thank you for humiliating me!” Marisu was loud, inviting everyone to hear their conversation but she didn't care.  

“It’s not what you think. You saw what happened yesterday. Everything was orchestrated by my mother.” Eren was on the edge but was trying to remain calm under Marisu's scrutiny. 

“Oh, really?” Marisu's laugh is sarcastic, “Then why did the two of you run out of there hand in hand?”

Being reminded of his mistake and humiliation made Eren lose his temper, “Can you just listen to me? I mistakenly grabbed her instead of you.”

“And do you expect me to believe that? We don't look alike, we’re not wearing the same clothes, our hair colors are different, and we’re not even the same height, Are you blind?!”

Eren’s already standing at this point, “You are being unreasonable! I kept on texting and calling you to explain but you didn't even answer!”

“Can you hear yourself right now?!” Marisu came to get things off her chest but instead of releasing all the negative feelings, she was getting angrier. 

“You are still making excuses when in truth you are just a fuckboy like Jean and Connie!” Both Jean and Connie opened their mouths to protest but they can’t even get a word in. 

“I won’t let you treat me like a toy that you’re going to throw away when you get married so stay away from me!”

Eren and Marisu's fights have always been ugly but this time is different as both are using words instead of their usual thing of passive aggressiveness mixed with physical altercations. Jean and Connie, who were dragged into it, honestly don't know which one is better.  

“Is that what you think of me or are you giving yourself another excuse to get with Armin again?” Something inside Eren just snapped and he meant every word that he said. 

Their audience winced at the crisp of Marisu's slapping of Eren. 

Marisu doesn't need to explain herself, she was the victim, she told herself and proudly walked away. 

Eren facepalmed and sat back down with no intention of chasing after Marisu this time. 

It was deathly quiet and nobody dared to look in Eren’s direction despite everyone being curious regarding his alleged upcoming nuptials. 

“Are we not going to talk about that?” Jean sighed and motioned for the butler for something. 

Connie handed Eren an iced towel, “Don’t let it get to you too much. A woman’s slap is a battle wound you should be proud of.”

Eren didn’t say anything and silently accepted the towel. 

***

Mikasa sighs and gives up trying to get to the cafeteria as she feels like she’s walking in circles. 

She decided to just think positively and be productive instead. She thought of all the things she could do right now. She can read a book or maybe take a leisurely walk. 

Mikasa took in her surroundings and decided to just enjoy the view of the lake. Everything is a mess right now and considering Eren’s attitude towards her, Mikasa knows that her first day in Eldian Imperial Academy is just a preview of what’s to come. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm breeze. 

“Does he think I’m stupid or something?”

“It’s good that this happened! It’s good that he’ll stay away from me now!”

As if that was life’s cue to prove her right, her moment of peace was shattered when she heard someone stomping and muttering things to herself. 

Mikasa opened her eyes to turn to the source of the noise only to see Marisu staring at her.  

“Hi…” Marisu smiled awkwardly when she got caught staring at Mikasa. 

Mikasa’s expression didn’t change and was as cool as a cucumber when she returned Marisu's greeting. 

“Eren is in the cafeteria if you’re looking for him.” Marisu pointed in the direction that she came from. 

The peace is already broken so Mikasa might as well get going. Mikasa nodded at Marisu and started walking in the opposite direction the girl just pointed at her. 

Eren Yeager is the last thing Mikasa needs right now. 

***

There's only one light switched on in the music hall and it's directly pointed at the black grand piano on the stage. 

Mikasa descended into a trance, drowning in her memories. 

This hall is where she first had her piano competition when she was just six years old. 

Mikasa turns around when she hears a violin playing Mozart's Marriage of Figaro overture. 

Armin must have heard about her engagement with Eren that's why he's playing such a piece. 

After playing the excerpt, he proudly did his signature bow.  

Mikasa gives his friend an exasperated laugh but claps nonetheless. She shakes her head inwardly because of what a troll Armin is. 

They wordlessly smiled at each other. 

It's time for Mikasa to return the favor. She pressed a piano key and was pleased that it was perfectly tuned. She sat on the piano bench. 

To commemorate the warm welcome she received from an old friend, Mikasa played Ravel's Mirrors. 

Everything sounds different to her… even the air she breathes feels different. 

Mikasa was feeling the music but stopped when a ringtone played and broke the magic. 

Armin and Mikasa turned their heads on the door and saw Marisu fumbling for a hot minute before presumably turning off her phone.

"I thought you lost your way so I chased after you-" Mikasa didn't say anything and gently closed the fallboard. Marisu was mostly looking at Armin anyway so she checked her phone while they talked. 

The newcomer apologized for interrupting and Armin waved it off. 

Mikasa scrolled through the messages on her phone and ignored them. Her finger hovered on this one message, tempted to delete it and pretend she didn't see it but she sighed instead. She needed to go.

Armin left with Mikasa, leaving Marisu who looked at their retreating backs. 

***

Mikasa was curious if there was any energy supplement Eren was taking with the endless energy and vitality that he has.

Every time she sees him, someone's dragging him kicking and screaming. She wonders if he has the concept of restraint. With the way he's struggling, you would think that he's being led to his death and not to tea.  

Even Mikasa who hasn't struggled when she was on her way to cram school, didn't have any chance to freshen up or change out of her school uniform. 

Mikasa took note of the bodyguards' techniques for restraining a wild person.

Once they were able to throw Eren inside the private tea room, they immediately closed the door on him. 

A normal sane person would have given up by then but not Eren. As soon as he was able to get on his feet after being thrown on the floor, he bangs on the door and shouts to be let out. 

Mikasa crossed her legs and sipped her tea. 

"Aren't you tired of getting worked up over every single thing?" It was pure curiosity on Mikasa's end. "In case you don't know, they won't and can't keep us here forever." 

Eren was a sweaty mess and looked at her as if she were a predator. 

Mikasa has to stop herself from scoffing, "Be my guest and sit on the floor if you want." She barely said a word but all the shouting that Eren's doing is making Mikasa thirsty. She was already tired from just watching him. 

Eren reluctantly sits across her in response. 

It seemed like five minutes of peace is all the courtesy Eren could give before he feels the need to speak his mind again. "Is all this your doing?" 

Mikasa could tell with the way he asked her even though he didn’t raise his voice that he already has an answer.  Now that he isn’t screaming murder at his mother’s men, he needs someone new to blame. 

Eren scrutinized Mikasa as if she were a devil incarnate hell-bent on dragging him to hell 

Introspectively, it was a miracle itself that Mikasa managed to get Eren to have some tea with her but that doesn't mean he's going to suddenly be an amicable person because he's not.

 

Anyone close to Eren knows that he's not even a reasonable person to begin with.  

To Eren, people are a bloodsucking parasite or a means to an end. 

Humans are just humans in the end, keen on ending the other… unless they have a common goal but Mikasa doesn't need to be a genius to see that working or making a deal with Eren is not possible or efficient at all. 

"If you didn’t know already… I meant to grab Marisu and not you. I have mistaken you for someone else because you are in the way.” 

Eren didn’t know why but he felt the air shift. Mikasa didn’t react and silently listened to him but he grew uncomfortable with the way Mikasa was looking at him so he broke eye contact.  

He thought that even though he didn't like Mikasa at all and that she has a bad personality, she was still a girl. 

"If you marry me, you will suffer a lot because I will absolutely not fall in love with you. Our married life will have no love or meaning at all." 

“Thank you for the ample warning,” Mikasa said it the way normally but Eren became wary of her now. 

“Should you have not warned me I would have killed myself with all the girlish pining I’ll do for you,” she said with her usual polite but detached tone that reflects her overall dry personality but the sarcasm couldn’t be clearer. 

Mikasa holds no delusions and knows that Eren has mistakenly grabbed her. What did she ever do to have people always mistake her for someone else?  

Mikasa never really hated Eren up until this very moment. 

“If you understand then stop all of this.” Eren motioned around them. 

Mikasa only looked at Eren. “Right… Stop all of this.” Mikasa motioned around them as Eren did. 

“Because I have nothing better to do with my time than watch the brat second son of the Yeager family who thinks he’s all that.” Mikasa scoffed, "whine and blame everyone but himself for all of his problems.” 

“That’s not true!” This is the most Eren has heard Mikasa talk and now he wishes that she could just shut her mouth again. 

“Your attitude regarding all this is already very telling and you still think of blaming me when in reality you should’ve known better.” 

Eren in his anger failed to realize why Mikasa’s words bother him so much. The monotony of her tone only adds salt to his wounds. 

“How did you expect your mother to react to your girlfriend?”

Eren grew more defensive which unfortunately only gave Mikasa more bullets to shoot him with, “Marisu's not yet my girlfriend she-”

“Good for her! Being your girlfriend would only bring pain and suffering to everyone who unfortunately comes across both of you.”

“What does a heartless frigid bitch like you know?! Anyone would be lucky to have me!”

"Because you are rich and handsome?" And that shuts Eren up 

Mikasa should have already gotten the satisfaction of making Eren loss for words but that’s the thing with anger, it’s a fire that consumes until there’s nothing left, and inside Mikasa, there’s no well or an oasis. It’s all paper flowers, books, gold trophies, and dry straws for a heart. 

“So what if you are rich and handsome? Almost everyone in our school is. So why you?”  

Eren still couldn't answer.  

“Why not Armin who is gentle and intelligent? Or Jean who is ambitious and charming? Or even Connie who is fun and throws great parties?”

Red with rage and humiliation, Eren stands up and flips the table “Take back what you said!”

The door opened and two attendants stammered to at least get the broken ceramic out of the way to not accidentally injure the second son of the Yeager family. 

Even with the people coming and going because of the mess, Mikasa remained unmoved. She never broke eye contact with Eren the entire time. 

After everything was tidied up, the door remained open and Eren stormed off not long after but not before giving Mikasa one last look of anger which she returned with apathy.  

Mikasa ordered a fresh pot of chamomile tea and stayed at the tea house until dark. 

She won but she felt more hollow inside than usual. 

The next day at school, everyone around Mikasa gasped when she opened her locker and saw a red tag in it.  

#eremika #eremikaauweeks #emcollegeandhighschool #new student #day 1 #more of a drabble #mistakes were made #the heirs #meteor garden au

[came-out-of-the-coffin-desisted]

my haaaaaands are still fucked uuuuuup but when they’re unfucked up i’m gonna draw smth so sexy and delicious for my new skyrim oc i can see the comp in my mind’s eye it’d just make my hands fall off if i tried to draw it

#he’s a liiiiiiitle bit of a serial killer so i’m envisioning him in like a white gown/robe with his hair up like in fucking. ella enchanted #in the garden with caryalind thallery but the knife behind his back is just coated in blood and there’s a pile of bodies behind him that we #can see but cary can’t see. i LOVE cary btw if you haven’t tried him as a follower highly highly recommend #vaynis is a character i didn’t think i’d get all that attached to i just wanted to try out the ancient falmer mod and then i got like. SO #attached to him immediately. he’s not actually an ancient falmer he’s just like. a non betrayed falmer who’s 23. his dad was like the #ultimate ‘i survive everything bc i’m good at hiding’ kinda guy who was a child when the snow prince died and he just fucked off into the #jerall mountains for forever basically. and another falmer (much younger) stumbled on him up there and was like ‘dude wtf if you have #immortality magic why do you live in a wizard shack in the mountains’ and he was like ‘well. i’m wicked scared all the time you see’ #so in exchange for teaching her the immortality spell he was like ‘will you have a baby with me so the falmer don’t die out’ and she was #like ‘yeah ok but i’m not raising this fucking baby. i’m leaving i’m not a mom. you won’t make me a mom’ and he was like ‘yeah sure ok’ #secretly thinking if he built her a tower she’d stay. so every day he’d build the tower bit by bit with magic and everyday she’d plan to #leave and like in a fairytale they had the ‘i’m going to leave’ ‘i know’ conversation but then vaynis was born and she actually DID leave bc #she wasn’t a mom! she told him that! but he was like shocked bc he was a moron. and so he locked vaynis in his wizard tower and only let him #out to teach him how to hunt and track and forage. and vaynis really wanted to see the world but his dad would never change. so he planned #to leave and he picked himself out a nice breton adventurer to seduce into taking him along only when his dad found out he killed the breton #and locked vaynis back in the tower. and vaynis waited and watched and planned and pretended like he was sorry. and then one day he #knifed him in his sleep. and took his shit and escaped. but auriel wasn’t super happy about that so he shipwrecked him. and ever since theb #vaynis has been pretty pathetic. he’s working on it but like. it really is kinda embarassing to watch. anyway his new scheme for glory is to #join the thalmor and he IS really pretty so this thalmor agent in solitude was like ‘hey the heir to the aldmeri dominion is also here and #we like. really need him back and with his head in the game. the nords are stupid they think you’re a altmer but like. i know a bitch whose #race is supposed to be extinct when i see one. you seduce caryalind thallery back into line and we’ll help you do whatever you wanna do to #restore the falmer. ideally it’s integrate with us.’ so vaynis obviously takes that fucking opportunity but problems arise bc caryalind #isn’t quite as seduceable as previously thought. yeah he’s flirty but he’s also looking for something serious and trying to become a better #person. so vaynis is on a journey of ‘get aldmeri prince to marry me and have his baby to achieve greatness’ when they stumble into helgen #after alduin attacks (bc as we all know i’m addicted to the ‘the prisoner dies and akatosh has to pick a new dragonborn’ narrative’ and he #) and akatosh picks vaynis honestly? to be funny. i love interpreting akatosh as a smartass it’s so funny to me #‘yeah there’s a whole world riding on this but like. wouldn’t it be kinda hilarious to see what happens?’ #alternatively maybe akatosh and auriel are one in the same. you decide #anyway becoming the dragonborn really complicates this plan like. MOST severely

[a-romanic]

Guess who's broken a new sims record (played the same sims family on TWO separate days)

#the duck quacks #i usually suffer from making new families over and over but now im actually having fun #im on the second gen rn altho the third gen are toddlers! #i started with whats the name. uhh those sims who hate jobs and want to live of the land #i actually..forgot my own sims name but she had that trait + vegan + focused on family. lived in evergreen harbor and ate from the trash #up until she had kids and it became kjnda impractical. especially for toddlers. so she got a fridge #the house was still of the grid tho and she was very green. also she had 6 kids. only one had the happy infant trait. the othrrs had unhappy #i kinda stopped focusing her when the oldest/heir grew up into a kid! her name is robin and she was rll fun to play with! #she maxed out social butterfly and even scouts she was v skilled which was suprising for me when i have short lifespan #as a teen she did get hit by a meteor snd died but i added her ghodt to the fam! i planned to continue as a ghost eith her but she couldnt #age to an adult so i just decided to revive her after a little while #as an adult she moved out. she was still besties with her entire family and honeslyy. that girl helped raise those kids ALOT #all teens judt got appointed to infant duty #good for them that the sims doesnt gave a trauma system bc raising hr siblings after ur mom passed out again is probably. #not good for a teenager. hm . yeah. #anyways robin moved to the city where she still libes today! she is. so fucking talented i LOVE her #she has responsibility emphathy and politeness maxed out she makes instant friends and has lke 20+ at this point #she is on the charity branch of the politica and almost at lvl 10 #she completed worlds friends and currently working on the art aspiration! she is at lvl 10 in cha and art #she also married today! i forgor her husbands nsme but hes just a chill clumsy dude who loves to garden and kids #they were v romantic. got toghether on love day. engaged during love festival. married in a 6x3 room in their apartment. #(their wedding was so silly. the apartment is v cramped and full so the routing was SUFFERING) #speaking of routing issues. they got twins! Starling and Sparrow! i lofe them but dear lord is Robin a bad parent #rheir room was small bc apartemenr and the routing was the WORST AND SHE KEPT STARING AT HER BABY WHILE SHE SOBBED ON THE FLOOR EVEN THOUFH #I TOLD HER TO PUT HER INTO THE XRIB 3 FUCKINF HOURS AGO #i gave up soon and aged them up. Sparrow has the unhappy baby trair RIP. honestly before this i thought they would be WAY too doting parents #but ig not. #rn im veru curious to see how the twins grow up bc i alwaus randomize traits n stuff. also! they got a cat and dog! and will get a new rat #when the todds age up. the dog was avtuallt rll impractical bc it cant ride the eleveator alone and pees in the house all the time ..oops #anyways this is the first time in genuinely excited to play again. rip my studies i gotta grind on the hunderd family!!

[thecharacterchronicler]

There Will Come A Ruler (1) || Coriolanus Snow x Reader (+18)

Outline: You agreed to a marriage of convenience with Coriolanus Snow to please your parents and be an asset in his campaign to become the new president of Panem. On your first wedding anniversary, the man who you barely spend time with and hardly know, tells you that he wants you to give him a heir.

Word count: 3’938

Warnings: pregnancy (TTC), marriage of convenience, explicit smut (+18)

(( Part 2 - Snow Lands On Top )) - ((Part 3 - Insatiable ))

You sat at your vanity, adjusting the necklace of pearls around your neck. The reflection in the mirror showed such an elegant woman, with the poise and grace expected of a future First Lady. You had even managed to master the art of making your fake smiles appear real, leading on everyone to believe that you were living a dream, even though things were nothing like what you’d let on in front of the people of Panem.

You repowdered your face, and brushed your hair to make sure you looked flawless before taking a deep breath and leaving the intimacy of your bedroom, the one only you slept in, to go downstairs and join your husband for dinner.

Tonight was one of the few nights he wasn’t working late or had a business dinner or event to attend. Those nights dining in your manor, just the two of you without any guests always felt strange since they were so unusual. You had a cook and a waiter, employees hired to serve you and care for everything so that the only thing expected from you was to show up, dressed and polished for the occasion. Not that Coriolanus would have noticed if you had showed up for this dinner in your pajamas and messy hair, he’d usually be too busy reading the newspaper or writing his next speech to even look at you during the meal. Then, you’d retire back to your bedroom and he would stay working late in his office until he too, would go back to his room, at the far opposite of yours in the opulent manor you resided in.

It had been a year of this routine, ignoring each other unless there were some peering eyes to scrutinize you or some important people to impress. You couldn’t say you were unhappy because what was there to complain about ? You lived in a gorgeous house, you had the privileges associated with being a powerful man’s wife and you were free to spend your days and money as you pleased, the only rule being to never, ever, do anything that could reflect badly on your politician of a husband. Days were sweet and easy. A lot more than what you had imagined when you were told that your parents had agreed for you to marry a complete stranger, just because it was an honor and a wonderful opportunity to be chosen as the fiancée of one of the most important people in Panem. The fact that you had never talked to Coriolanus Snow once before didn’t matter, the papers were signed and three days later, you found yourself walking down the aisle to a blond man, dressed in white as you were, to vow each other love and support until death brought you apart in front of a crowd of cameras, reporters and nosy onlookers.

You made your way to the dining room. With its large windows, it offered one of the best views on the garden and greenhouse, which were always well taken care of, not a single strand of grass out of line or a single rose withering without being cut off of its branch. The furnitures were simple, yet luxurious and the long table was perfect for you to sit at opposite ends from your husband. It was much easier for you to ignore each other, separated by two rows of empty seats and various dishes and platters scattered across the table.

The cook always made five courses meals , with refined food and expensive wine , and although it was only the two of you, tonight was no exception. The hors d’œuvres and entrees had been served already, red wine filling the crystal glasses on each end of the glass table. However, one thing wasn’t right…

“Mrs Snow.” Your husband greeted you, with the same politically warm smile you had mastered to do too by taking example on him.

You stopped on your way to your seat, unsure of what to expect. Despite the few meals you had shared in privacy, he had never been waiting for you standing by the window, with a glass in hand and a gorgeous rose in the other . Nor had he been so perfectly dressed and groomed for such an occasion. Usually, you could tell he had spent a long day working or attending events, his clothes always classy but his light hair frequently tousled and light purple lines under his eyes. This time though, it looked like he had dressed and prepared himself just for you, wearing his best suit and his blond locks perfectly combed back.

“Mister Snow.” You replied, observing him with a sucpicious expression.

“Happy anniversary.” He said, taking the few steps that still separated him from you to hand you the white rose he held. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, something definitely wasn’t right as he never had such caring gestures towards you if they weren’t witnessed by others. But you took the rose, politely thanking him. And surveyed the room carefully in search of a camera or an important guest you might have missed… But you didn’t find anything to justify his odd behavior. “I asked the chef to make your favorite dish for the occasion.”

You knew Coriolanus had no idea what it was, but the fact that he had been so thoughtful to ask should have been enough.

He pulled your chair for you, like the perfect gentleman he was but never bothered to be if it didn’t benefit his image, and you sat at the table, taking in the carefully presented trays of all the things you liked to eat in front of you.

The waiter entered to serve both of you, because since you became Mrs Snow, you apparently weren’t required to do the most basic things, such as filling your own plate with food yourself anymore.

Coriolanus raised his glass of wine to you, proposing to toast to the first of many years together before drinking a long sip out of his beverage. You knew you didn’t have a choice but to do the same, as etiquette dictated it, but his sudden acknowledgment of your existence was enough to make you want to throw your glass at his face and demand he told you what he was up to. But of course, you knew better than to cause a scene, even in privacy.

“I’m sure you’ll be glad to know sixty percent of the voters are favoring me for presidency.” He stated, with a proud smile you couldnt quite tell if real or forced. “Gaul says that with a few more efforts, I should be able to gain the majority, and then I’ll unquestionably win the elections.”

“That’s wonderful.” You replied, truly hoping Coriolanus will be elected to rule over Panem. It was the only thing he wanted and cared about, you didn’t want to imagine the depth of his misery if he didn’t make it. You also might have not known your husband intimately at all but, since you often had to accompany him for official duties, you had learned a thing or two about the way he’d address important business. “Is there anything I can do to help ?”

You saw him smile at your question. A genuine smile, letting you know you were asking exactly what he was hoping you would.

“Well, according to the surveys, I seem to have convinced most of the older electors . However, one part of the population seems to still have doubts about my program.” He explained, while the waiter refilled his glass of wine. “Apparently, families don’t believe I have their best interest at heart.”

“A few more events centered around children and education and I’m sure they’ll be acquired to your cause.” You said, understanding that he probably meant to ask you to accompany him more often to those, as a proof that he cared enough.

“Surely, but Gaul also suggested we start a family of our own to appear more relatable.”

You swallowed your wine with difficulty, the bitterness burning down your throat at his words. Your chest tightened, your heart pounding wildly.

“We agreed on having our first child after five years of marriage.” You reminded him, and by the way his pale eyes focused on you, you knew you were about to start an important business negotiation with him.

“Unfortunately, I need the support of these voters now, not in five years.”

“We signed a contract that detailed this topic very clearly.”

“And in that contract, you vowed to support me in my endeavors and give me two heirs at minimum. I don’t think getting started on our family now instead of later will make much of a difference to you.”

“You are asking me to carry and birth a baby but it won’t make much of a difference to me ?!” You snapped, raising your voice louder than you should have.

“What I meant to say is that you’re going to have to do it sooner or later. Might as well be now so you’re done with this part of your duty. It would benefit me greatly, and you too.”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from shouting at him. The way he was so detached about it all made you unreasonably angry. You had agreed to give him children and he was right, you knew that sooner or later you’d have to get it over with but in all honesty, it wasn’t the idea of being pregnant that gave you anxiety but the thought of what you had to do in order to achieve that.

You were good at putting up a show for the public, pretending to be perfectly in love and happy together but in truth, you didn’t even know this man. He was a stranger, living in the same house as you and that was about it. Imagining anything more intimate with him seemed preposterous.

“I’ll need to think about it.” You told him, and he nodded quietly. He was gracious enough to accept that answer for now but you knew he’d have things his way, wether you agreed or not.

●○●○●○●○●○●

You spent a sleepless night tossing and turning in your satin sheets, mulling over Coriolanus’ request. Damn Dr. Gaul and her bright ideas ! It already was her fault if you had been chosen to be Mister Snow’s perfect wife, an honor in the eyes of most but it felt oddly similar to being picked as a tribute and sent into the arena to you. You didn’t have much say in what you wanted then, you knew you didn’t have anymore to say now. You really were faced with only two choices; either agree and conceive a child, either take the risk of being replaced by a more willing - and less opiniated - new wife.

It took you until the next evening to finally accept that you only had one resonable answer to give him. Unfortunately, the hours seemed to pass by way too slowly since Coriolanus wasn’t home for supper that night, leaving you alone in the empty dining room with your thoughts. You had waited for him for a while, enjoying the cosy living room as night fell over the Capitol until you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore and fell asleep on the teal sofa by the chimney.

When you woke up, the flames that had kept you warm were merly embers. You hadn’t noticed the difference in temperature, thanks to one of the house employees who had been thoughtful enough to cover you with a warm wool blanket. You rose up and stretched, deciding to finish your night in the comfort of your bed but when you walked passed your husband’s office, you noticed a light seeping from underneath the door.

After a gentle knock, you tentatively turned the knob to enter the room you had never been in before. Just like his bedroom, his office usually was a place you avoided in order to keep the distances between the two of you when you didn’t have to fake a happy marriage for others.

You weren’t too surprised by the luxurious items that decorated the room, the white couch and the very large desk in the center of the room were very much in Coriolanus’s style; classic and elegant. But what really caught your attention in this unknown territory was the man behind the desk, dishelved, with his tie undone and the first few buttons of his shirt opened. In a year of living together, you had never seen your husband look so… common.

“You’re awake.” He remarked, leaning back in his armchair and rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“And so are you.”

“I usually don’t go to bed before three or four o’clock.”

You glanced at the clock on the mantel of his fireplace, indicating three twenty five. You quickly did the math, realizing how little sleep he got since most days, when you got up and had breakfast at seven in the morning, he always already was off to his other office in town.

“Don’t you think you might be overworking yourself ?” You asked him, finally daring to fully step inside the room and approach his desk.

“It’s better than having nightmares.” He confessed, matter of factly before looking away from you, as if he hadn’t meant to say something so personal to you. “Did you need something ?”

You stopped in front of the white desk, standing with your thighs pressed against the edge. Even sitting, he still looked quite taller than you.

“I’d like a whole new wardrobe designed by Fabricia Whatnot, a pond in the greenhouse with koi fishes and to add some shelves to the library with more up to date books, mostly romance.”

Coriolanus’ intrigued pale blue eyes observed you, the ghost of an amused smile on his lips.

“And what will I get in exchange of all of this ?” He asked, although his smirk showed he already knew the answer.

“A heir.” You replied, with the satisfaction of at least gaining the most you could ask for out of the deal. His smile grew wider, and you wondered if it was a genuine one. It had to be. It seemed so much warmer than his other ones…

“Then you’ll get everything you want, sweetheart.” You smiled at him, genuinely happy with this outcome although the perspective of what was meant to happen next still terrified you.

He stood from his chair, eyes remaining fixed on you as he walked around his desk to join you on the other side. You felt a shiver run up your spine once he was close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his skin onto yours.

With a hand on each of your hips, he lifted you up to sit you down on the edge of his desk. He looked down at you, his face so close to yours and even if it caused your heartbeat to go wild, you knew he wouldn’t kiss you. He never did.

Instead, he finished unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, revealing his unexpectedly muscular chest, a vague testament left of his previous life as a peacekeeper in the districts.

He placed his white shirt on the desk next to you, careful to fold it neatly enough to avoid creasing before focusing his attention back on you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his hands on you again, first against the bare skin of your legs and slowly but unmistakably making their way up to your thighs, bringing your skirt up in their wake. A ragged breath escape your lips when his fingers trailed the elastic of your underwear, exploring the shape of it by following its lines until suddenly, the warmth and roughness of his fingers had slipped under the fabric and pressed directly on your skin.

He reached between your legs rather gently, a finger slipping between your folds and softly tracing a few lines connecting your entrance to your clit He was being considerate enough to take things slow and prepare you for him, which was something you strangely didn’t expect him to do. Well to be fair, in all twelve months you had been Coriolanus Snow’s wife, you hadn’t given much thoughts to what intimacy might be like with him. Of course, you knew it would have to happen eventually, you had signed a contract after all but you usually avoided fantasizing about it.

You knew Coriolanus probably had an abundance of mistresses to please him whenever he wanted - or needed - them. He was a very good looking man. You knew that already, but seeing him as he was tonight, without much care to his appearance, was yet another proof of how devastatingly handsome he could be.

You liked the way he caressed you, it was the most intimate touch you had ever shared together, and it somehow felt nice to connect with him. But it also was pretty obvious that, even in a situation such as this one, he still was very much in control of himself and of every aspect of what was happening. It was unfair. If he was asking you to let go and was slowly but surely awakening your desire for him with the way his finger still circled your center, he might as well abandon his pretenses and enjoy it too.

Determined to help, you reached out for his pants, unbuttoning them before he could protest and pulling out the hardened length of his cock out of his underwear. It was so rigid and warm in your hand, dark veins running all along his shaft up to his pale tip, which was slightly glistening already. You looked back at him unable to conceal your surprise at how ready he was for you already. You hadn’t done anything to get him in the mood, nor had you removed a single piece of clothing yet but he already seemed to be throbbing with desire with the simple anticipation of what was about to happen.

You ran your thumb over his tip, collecting a drop of his precum with a blush creeping to your cheeks. He stared at you as you did, refusing to let any emotions show on his face but unable to stop himself from shuddering. It helped you feel more confident. With a soft smile for him, you used your other hand to undo the bow around your waist, which held your dress together. It came undone by itself, revealing your chest to him which caused his eyes to darken slightly.

A silent struggle seemed to take place in his mind, hesitating between following his plan as he had imagined it, methodically proceeding in order to procreate or giving in to the violent pulsion of pure lust he felt at the sight of your gorgeous body , taking you like a wild animal rather than pretending to be a gentleman.

You huffed in surprise when you felt his finger slip once more into your wetness before he pushed it inside you, as deeply as it could go. In return, you pumped his cock a few times, enjoying the sight of him trying to resist the pleasure it instantly gave him. He moved his finger in and out of you in synch with your own movements along his shaft before deciding that you were stretched enough to add another one and try to expand you a bit more. You moaned and immediately bite your lip to silence yourself, if he was being careful to not lose control over any of this then you were determined to do the same. But the way he smirked with satisfaction as the sound of your whimper of exctasy when he added a third finger inside you almost caused you to climax already.

You lifted your hips up, trying to move your body and get him to hit even deeper inside you which seemed to amuse him. He liked the way you were slowly starting to lose your mind over the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you.

You gently tugged on his erection still firmly squeezed in your fist, attempting to bring him closer so that he would understand that you were more than ready to take him, as big as he was.

His fingers left you, your walls pulsing with a need for more but instead of his cock pushing past your entrance, it’s his lips savagely crashing against yours that you felt. It was a messy kiss, full of unspoken words and concealed passion finally pouring out. A kiss that was nothing like the chaste, picture perfect, kiss you had shared on your wedding day.

The next moment, his lips were gone and he yanked you to the edge of his desk by a tight grip on your wet panties. They teared under the pressure of his movement and, with the fabric out of his way, all he had left to do was press his hips between your legs spread opened and slam his cock inside you. It was so sudden, your eyes rolled back with the intensity of it all for a moment.

A panted breath escaped his lips, letting you know you felt as good to him as he felt to you. He was trying to stay focused on you, trying to keep his first few thrusts slow and long but as soon as you moaned, the last of his restrain dissolved and he slammed himself back in, shoving his entire length inside you and hitting deep where you so desperately needed to feel him.

With one hand on your hip and the other reaching for your bra, he rocked you in rythym with his blunt thrusts and you definitely gave up on staying silent, letting your loud noises fill his office and probably resonate in the entire manor.

Your body tensed, clenching his cock so hard that you felt it even deeper and it sent you off the edge. Your legs trembled and your vision blurred as a wave of exceptional pleasure took hold of your entire being, making you feel dizzy and satisfied all at once. No matter the strength of the orgasm shaking your body, your husband kept thrusting abruptly in and out of you at the same pace for a bit longer until you felt his warm release filling you up and he collapsed in your arms, panting.

You brought your hands to his soft blond hair, gently playing with his curls as you kept your eyes shut and tried to regain your senses, your legs still shaking and your core still pulsating around him.

A moment went by during which you almost felt close to the stranger you had married, like you finally knew a very intimate part of him but as soon as he had managed to catch his breath, he pulled out of you and regained his flawless, controlled composure.

“Do you think it worked ?” You asked him, still lightly panting.

He put his softening erection back in his pants and reached for his shirt before taking back his place behind his desk.

“I think we should keep trying, just to be sure.” He replied, with a glance at you that clearly betrayed the excitement he felt at the idea of doing it all again with you.

Next in this series:

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #corio snow #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus snow smut #tbosas #smut #smutty fanfiction #coryo snow #president snow #snow smut #tbosas smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #spicy content

[teamatsumu]

you are part of me. (gojo satoru x reader)

summary: when gojo satoru loves, he is loud about it. and he doesn’t care if you don’t love him back.

word count: 3604

warnings: fem!reader, friends to lovers, very mild angst, swearing, gojo being gojo, canon compliant storyline

Gojo Satoru enters your life at 16 years old.

His presence suffocates the room, his cursed energy is something not best ignored. Quiet, yet noticeable. Like something that’s bubbling just under the surface. It’s almost as if a very dangerous animal has been reigned in, held back on a leash. That’s how his cursed energy feels to you. You, who is a mere novice. New to the world of curses and sorcery, landing in Jujutsu Tech after everything near and dear to you was ripped from you by this world.

He intimidates you.

He is loud, lean, but very tall. He demands attention when he walks into a room. He is jovial, a little aloof (you're not sure if it’s on purpose), big goofy grin and round, almost comical sunglasses. His hair is so bright, and his eyes are so blue, it’s almost blinding to look at him.

He is everything that you are not.

He is a year older, and your classmate Haibara can never stop talking about him and Geto. Nanami does not enjoy being around them, but he holds them in regard because they are his seniors. Shoko might be the only one he truly respects, and that almost makes you fear her. You make up your mind to try and stay as invisible as possible around them. You do not enjoy the spotlight.

Unfortunately, Gojo thrives in the spotlight, and he has a knack for pulling other people into it with him.

“Oh hello. Fresh meat?” He is grinning down at you, eyes barely visible behind the dark, circular lenses. “And aren’t you cute. You better toughen up sweetcheeks, or the big bad curses are gonna eat you up.”

You don’t know what exactly he means. You’re too caught up in the fact that he called you cute. It makes you heat up under the collar of your brand new jujutsu uniform. And his intense stare makes you fidget.

You do not like it.

You just frown at him and turn away, taking advantage of the fact that Nanami was leaving the room and going along with him. You don’t notice how he stares at the back of your head as you leave, but Geto sure does. The raven haired boy lets out a pained sigh before leaning back on the creaky classroom chair.

“Here we go.”

Gojo hums questioningly, glancing at his best friend once you have left the room.

“You’re going to fixate on her now. And you’re going to be an insufferable prick about it.”

Gojo doesn’t deny it. He merely settles into a chair of his own, feeling the corners of his lips twitch.

……………….

Life at Jujutsu Tech isn’t as bad as you expected.

Your room is spacious enough to hold all your belongings. It has a nice view of the gardens, and is warm enough that you sleep comfortably through the nights. Your classmates are easy to get along with. Haibara loves carrying the conversation, and while Nanami isn’t as energetic, he shares a lot of your interests so you love talking to him.

The deep, sorrowful ache in your chest is slowly subsiding. Very slowly. Oftentimes, you remember your old life. You remember the smiles on your parents’ faces, and you shed tears in the late hours of the night. But they are gone. And you are here. You can’t do anything about it.

And then there’s Gojo Satoru.

For someone who is apparently the ‘strongest’, part of a major jujutsu clan and heir to the infamous Six Eyes, you would think he would be a busy person. But somehow, he finds a way to always be lazing around the campus, and unfortunately, he loves engaging you in conversation.

“Fresh meat!” He hasn’t stopped calling you that. He hasn’t even learned your name. Or introduced himself. Of course, you already know who he is. But it would be the polite thing to do, wouldn’t it?

You would soon learn that Gojo Satoru has no manners, and no amount of scolding could teach him any.

“Heard you took down a fourth grade all by yourself. Congratulations!”

You eye him with a scowl, while all he does is grin back at you.

“You’re mocking me, senpai.”

Gojo places a hand on his chest, gasping so loud it was comical, acting shocked at your accusation.

“I would never!”

You sigh deeply, a regular habit you have developed since the boy had decided to shadow you, continuing to make your way back to your room as he trails behind you. While a fourth grade may not be a big deal to someone like Gojo, it is to you, who has never interacted with, let alone fought a curse.

You open your room door, stepping in and looking back to stare at your senior as he smiles down at you. You wait for him to say something cheeky like he usually does, about how you should invite him in so you can hang out, or his usual ‘let me take you out to dinner’, which he loves tossing around whenever he sees an opening.

“I’m real proud of ya, sweetcheeks.” He says instead, and his voice is softer, having lost the sharp edge that it usually carries.

There it is again, the heat under your collar. The little knot in your throat.

You close your room door in his face.

………………

“He likes you.”

“He doesn’t. He just likes to annoy me.”

“That’s his way of spending time with you.”

“I’d rather he leave me alone, then.”

“That’s an impossible ask.”

The chocolate icing on your brownie melts in your mouth as you chew on it, giving a disdainful look to Utahime who is apparently hell bent on proving this nonexistent crush Gojo seems to have on you. You don’t believe her. Mostly because you don’t think Gojo is capable of liking you, of all people. You also doubt his ability to genuinely give a shit about anyone that isn’t his closest friends. You’re just some underclassman that he thinks is fun to pester every now and then.

(‘Every now and then’ in this context means ‘every possible second of every day’.)

Utahime takes a big gulp on her coffee, and you have to wonder why the hot liquid doesn’t burn her throat as it goes down. Your phone pings again, for the seventh time in the last half hour, and Utahime stares pointedly at the unsaved number on your screen. You swipe the phone off the table quickly and flip the switch to ‘silent mode’.

“You haven’t saved his number? Ouch. He’s not gonna like that.”

You roll your eyes and glare at the screen of your phone. How long has he been texting you with random crap?

“I don’t give a shit what he likes.”

“You will. When he whines about it and never lets it go for the rest of your life.”

You sigh defeatedly and give your friend pleading eyes. “Can we please talk about something else? I see and hear Gojo enough during the day. I don’t need to talk about him with you too.”

When your friend agrees, you are blessed with a wonderful, Gojo-free afternoon of chatting, shopping and excessive eating. You’re still buzzing as you climb up the steps to Jujutsu Tech at sundown, rummaging through the tote bag where you had dropped all your little purchases. Just small knick knacks that made you happy to look at.

“Did ya get me anything?”

You yelp and jump, nearly falling off the step behind you but catching yourself before you can faceplant on the concrete. Gojo lets out an annoying cackle at your reaction, making you glare up at him.

“What is wrong with you?! I could’ve gotten seriously injured!”

He scoffs, walking the few steps between you two, hands buried in his pants pockets. “Like I would let that happen. You gotta trust me more, sweetcheeks.”

You ignore the now familiar way your ears and neck heat up, choosing to walk past him and continue your way up the steps.

“So? Got me anything?”

You groan internally, knowing he wouldn’t leave this alone. If you say no, he will complain about how he isn’t important enough in your life to warrant a little gift. If you then say he isn’t, that will result in even worse (and louder) whining, and you don’t have the energy to deal with that right now. You scramble through the bag slung over your shoulder, pulling out a cute carrot shaped pen with a smiley face on it. You had gotten two pens, one carrot shaped and one that looked like corn. You just thought they were insanely cute. It’s okay. You can afford to lose one.

Gojo eyes the pen when you hand it to him. “Why did ya get me this?”

He clearly knows you just pulled a random object out. He just wants to see what you will say.

“It’s…. tall and thin. You’re tall and thin.” You deadpan.

Gojo snorts, seeing through your very obvious lie. “You love me so much, don’t you?”

You stop in your tracks, watching Gojo’s back as he keeps walking, unaffected by your shocked gaze.

“Senpai-”

“See ya tomorrow!” He calls, twiddling the pen around his fingers as he disappears near the landing of the stairs.

Your heart races at his words. You feel angry and frustrated. But you’re not sure at whom.

………………….

When it’s Shoko’s birthday, you are forced to be around Gojo all day.

It’s a harrowing experience, one that can only be withstood by god’s toughest soldier, and god thinks that is you, apparently, because as per his usual habits, Gojo doesn’t leave you alone.

“Oh, this is nothing.” Geto comments, sipping on some fruity punch that you are almost sure contains alcohol. Both of you watch as Gojo tries to tie a conical party hat on Nanami’s head, while the boy in question puts up a valiant fight to try and keep his upperclassman at bay.

“He once had a crush on the daughter of some prominent gang leader in Tokyo. Almost landed himself in jail with the kind of stunts he pulled.”

You blink at him, watching as he brushes some strands of black hair off his face. “Seriously?”

He nods, smirking at your shocked silence, watching the gears in your head turn. “Don’t worry, he won’t do that to you.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “What makes you sure of that?”

Geto shrugs, watching the way Gojo’s eyes flit to you every now and then. You fail to notice it, too caught up in making up scenarios in your head where Gojo does something potentially illegal and lands both of you in serious trouble.

“You’re different.” Is his simple reply. It does nothing but confuse you more.

Later in the night, Shoko forces you to down an alcoholic drink. You sputter on the horrific taste of it, trying to get out from under her hold as she laughs at your reaction. Haibara enjoys your misery just as much, while Nanami’s face is blank. You are sure he is trying to erase tonight from his memory entirely.

The night is cold, but your hands are warm and your head is buzzing with happiness. Your cheeks hurt from the constant smiling and laughing. Every now and then, your eyes would meet brilliant blue ones. You are so cheerful that you even giggle when Gojo makes some lame pun at Geto’s expense. So cheerful, in fact, that you don’t protest when he decides he wants to walk you to your room.

You hum the song you had sung karaoke to, walking without so much as a thought in your head. Gojo is munching on a mini chocolate bar, one hand in his pocket. For once, he is silent.

When you stop at your door, you turn to look at him, trying to search his eyes. You find nothing, and you feel the sudden urge to know more about him. Geto’s words roam through your head.

“Senpai,” You whisper. “Why am I different?”

He smiles then, not his usual toothy grin, but softer, kinder. It makes him look even younger than he is. Somehow, it seems he knows exactly what you mean.

“Because I’m in love with ya, sweetcheeks.”

He leaves it at that. And you don’t ask any follow up questions.

……………………..

Gojo’s love is loud.

He never says the word after that one night. But he never exactly negates his declaration. He continues to be around you as much as possible. He loves pinching at your cheeks until they sting, loves draping an arm over your shoulder and laying a sloppy kiss on it when he can get away with it. He is much taller and stronger than you, so pushing him away does nothing except spur him on even more. You realize that he is naturally a very touchy-feely person, so you dismiss his affection as just him being annoying as hell. Both of you settle into a strange dynamic, one where he teases you endlessly and you try not to appear affected by it.

It’s unconventional but it works. You will even go as far as saying that he is your friend.

When you refer to him as such, he stares at you mouth agape, before letting out a big whoop and crushing you into a hug. You protest his grip and try to free yourself, failing as usual. Deep in your chest, your heart stutters at his proximity.

Gojo Satoru doesn’t have a single subtle bone in his body.

He introduces you as his girlfriend to curses, claiming it doesn’t matter because they are all stupid and can’t understand him anyway, so he can say what he wants. Besides, he’s gonna kill them mere minutes later. You don’t even know where to begin to fight his logic on that, so you just facepalm and let him do it, provided he doesn’t say it in front of actual people.

“You say it like being my girlfriend would be so bad.”

“It would be the worst thing known to mankind. I would kill myself actually.”

That earns you a very strong pinch on the cheek, one that has you yelping and pushing him away. It leaves behind a red mark that makes you hold back a smile every time you see it in the mirror.

Sometimes you wonder how easy it is for him to talk to you like this. He seems to not have an ounce of fear of rejection, no matter how many times you have told him that you aren’t interested. Like he is confident that it simply isn’t true. He makes it seem effortless, to attach himself to you and declare that you’re his ‘favorite’ person and one day he would be your favorite person too.

You try to ignore how accurate you think that is. And how close he is to actually becoming your favorite person. You can’t possibly let him find that out. He would become even more unbearably smug than he already is.

And so you continue to bask in this…. strange limbo. You warm yourself in the glaringly bright light of Gojo Satoru. And you secretly pray that it never goes away.

When Geto defects, you almost lose him.

You find him on the steps of Jujutsu High, staring out at god knows what, completely silent. In your years of knowing him, you had never seen him sit in one place for so long. He doesn’t even budge when you sit next to him. You don’t say a word. And neither does he.

The wind moves gently through his silver locks. The blue in his eyes has dulled and darkened. You sit on those steps for hours.

Something changes between you two after that evening. Somehow, Gojo is more…. human to you now. You see him struggle to come to terms with what has happened, to truly realise the unfair responsibility that he bears on his shoulders as the strongest sorcerer in the Jujutsu world. You sees how that changes him, how it dims him, and how he matures in that time.

Yet Gojo is still Gojo. Even years later, he continues to love you loudly and proudly. He is still constantly attached at the hip to you, even more so in your adult years now that you live off campus. He is somehow always at your place, even after you take away his emergency key because he never uses it for emergencies. There is a ‘Gojo drawer’ in your storage closet, huge bathroom slippers and an extra toothbrush. His preferred brand of shampoo and conditioner are housing in your cabinet, spares that he keeps for when he crashes in your guest bedroom.

(Let’s be honest. It’s less of a guest bedroom and more so Gojo’s room at this point).

You commute to work together in the mornings, which you think is funny since Gojo can just teleport wherever he wants. He says it’s because he wants to spend more time with you.

Oh yeah, he still constantly says he is in love with you.

Years and years after his first declaration, Gojo has still not budged. At this point you are so used to it that it doesn’t bother you anymore. Like it’s second nature. Like Gojo is meant to love you. Like there was never any doubt about it. Your mutual friends have accepted it too by now. No one bats an eye when Gojo whines about missing you. Or when he waltzes into your on-campus office claiming “two hours is enough time for us to be apart”.

You don’t know when exactly it settles over you. How important Gojo is to you. How you can’t go a day without him. How you get pissy and irritable when he goes on missions overseas that take weeks at a time. The transition is so smooth that sometimes you think you were always meant to love Gojo, just like he was always meant to love you.

‘Senpai’ becomes ‘Gojo-san’. Which becomes Satoru’.

It never occurred to you that Gojo was still, technically, a friend. You were with him so often, bickering and snickering, cuddling and lounging around. He was a part of you, like you were a part of him.

Then you hear words that shock you to your very core.

“In my eyes, you two are already married.”

Never in a million years would you have expected Ijichi to say those words. Everyone else is one thing. But fucking Ijichi?

You stare at the back of his head when he says them, the silence in the car deafening. You know Ijichi well enough to be certain he isn’t saying these words falsely, even if he means them lightheartedly. If this is what Ijichi truly thinks, then….. Is it what things are actually like?

It takes only a few minutes of reflection for you to realise that he isn’t far off. Gojo is so deeply ingrained in every nook and cranny of your life that it is beyond irreversible now. There is no way to untangle your lives. He is part of you, just as you are part of him.

It’s almost as if the universe is nodding in confirmation when you open the door to your apartment and find Gojo sprawled on the couch, flipping through TV channels. He is wearing sweatpants and a black T-shirt that looks unfairly good on him, especially since he clearly isn’t trying at all.

He stands up and you notice on the coffee table before him that he has laid out a myriad of snacks, both savory and sweet to cater for your varying taste buds. You spot at least three of your preferred treats in them. Your heart beat slows down, settles. Like you are at peace again. You feel a warmth under your collar. One that you haven’t felt since you were a wee teenager just stepping onto the Jujutsu High campus. You eye the back of Gojo’s head.

“Hey.” He calls, barely glancing back at you, eyeing his treasured snack collection as if contemplating which one he should start with. “Some shitty American reality show is on. You wanna make fun of ‘em together?”

He turns to look at you when you don’t respond, raising an eyebrow. Brilliant blue eyes bore into you.

“You okay?”

You walk closer to him, still silent, until he is mere inches from you, craning your head up to look at him. The background noise from the TV gets tuned out.

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

Gojo blinks. “I’d kiss you back.”

Your breath hitches. The knot in your throat tightens. No hesitation. No shock. Not so much as a stir. It’s like you’re asking him what to make for dinner.

“Okay.” You whisper. And then you’re leaning up, pressing your lips to his.

His hand reaches up to cup the back of your neck. The other stabilizes you at the waist. His lips are soft and smooth, almost dainty, slowly picking up intensity as he presses closer to you. Your heart is racing a mile a minute, and as you press closer to him, you feel that his is just the same, the only indication that he is affected by you just as you are by him.

When your lips part, you don’t open your eyes. Your foreheads touch and you let yourself feel, truly feel, the effects of his touch on you.

“I love you.”

Gojo’s smile is soft. His touch is tender. Comforting. Familiar. “I know.”

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo fanfiction #gojo imagine #friends to lovers #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru x you

[yaksha-lover]

cw: yandere, stalking, imprisonment

Malleus is locked in the castle - a mild territory dispute nearby, but his grandmother insisted he stay inside for the duration - when he sees you for the first time.

When you’ve spent as long as he has staring out the tall stained glass windows of his chambers, you learn to recognize the faces which roam your garden.

You are new.

He doesn’t think too much about you at first. Your novelty is the only thing that stands out to him; he doesn’t even think to ask Lilia where you’ve come from. Surely, you will be gone soon enough and his inquiry will have been pointless. Time proves him wrong.

Over the next few days, Malleus finds time between his magic and history lessons to watch you wander across the greenery. Perhaps you wouldn’t put in it such terms, you are working after all, but the fae can’t help but see it in that light.

He’s jealous, in a way. Perhaps that’s why you’ve captured his attention. He’s the one with wings, and yet, you are more free than he will ever be.

His grandmother- all his ancestors would surely scoff if they knew the heir to the Draconia kingdom was jealous of a human gardener.

That’s another thing he’s noticed from watching you. You’re human.

If your features weren’t enough to give it away, he’d also overheard Sebek complaining to Lilia about having more humans around the castle. His guardian had replied something about this being the exact reason he’d hired you, and then Lilia walked too far away for Malleus to hear any more of his explanation.

Even once he’s allowed to travel beyond the stifling stone walls of the castle, Malleus chooses not to approach you. It’s become part of his daily routine to watch you go about your caretaking of the bushes and the flowers; he would loathe to disrupt your genuine behaviour by making it known someone was watching you.

His eyes search for you as soon as he peers out his window. It’s second nature, an unconscious habit that’s begun to take hold in him.

As he watches you tend to the roses, Malleus can’t help but wonder how you would look dressed in an expensive silk of the same dashing red instead of your usual brown corduroy uniform. He’s sure you’ve never even dreamed of wearing fabric so expensive.

He thinks it would suit you. You might not have the look of the typical nobles he interacts with, but he certainly believes you have your own charm.

That’s another reason he’s become…interested in you. You’re so far removed from his own world, from any of them who sing his praises or whisper worries behind his back.

Of course you must know of him, but Malleus doesn’t know what you think of him. That, in of itself, is tantalizing and terrifying.

Malleus watches you until the sun sets upon the grounds and you’re forced to retire to your lodging at the corner of the property.

He falls asleep wondering what you dream about.

This habit of his goes on longer than it probably should. Although time doesn’t mean much to him, Malleus knows a couple months would be a significant amount of time to a human.

What would you think if you knew the crown prince was watching you day after day? Would you be flattered? Afraid?

Part of him knows it’s not right, but that doesn’t make it any easier to pull himself away from the window.

He feels as though he knows you.

He knows that tulips are your favourite by the way you take your time when trimming the stems, going much slower than he knows you’re capable of just to spend a little longer taking in their smell.

He knows your favourite foods, having watched what you bring for lunch. On the days his grandmother is too busy to dine with him, he prefers to take his food in his chambers, so that he can eat with you.

He knows that you love to read, your breaks spent sat by yourself with a novel instead of with the other staff. He finds himself reading alongside you sometimes, picking up the same book he noticed you had with you. It’s almost as though you’re truly doing it together.

It’s during one of these breaks that Malleus notices someone talking to you, interrupting your reading.

A blond man kneels down beside you, clearly trying to start a conversation with you. You smile politely as you look up at him from your place under the tree, book face-down on your thigh.

You’re too far for even his superior hearing to catch your words.

He doesn’t miss your giggle at the man’s chatter.

Malleus lets go of the document he’s holding. He’s accidentally crushed it in his grip.

-

You and the other staff have been on edge since Edric got fired. It seemed so random - one day, he was managing the grounds and chatting with you about your novel, and the next he was gone.

The crown always had a good reputation as an employer - it was one of the many things that drew you to the castle. There was gossip about Edric after he left, rumours about things he’d done to deserve getting fired. You didn’t want to believe it; he was the only one kind enough to try and befriend you after the others had all but shunned you for being human.

He hadn’t even said goodbye.

There was nothing much you could do but continue your work as usual.

A couple days later, one of the castle guards approaches the garden while you’re working. Everyone pauses their tasks with held breath as the man walks past everyone and stops in front of you.

You can feel the stares of your fellow staff burrowing into your back; you’re next and they know it. Despite the fact that they’re probably happy to finally get rid of you, you catch a glimmer of sympathy in some of their eyes.

Silver has been friendly in passing before, but this time his face is serious as he speaks to you: “Please come with me, MC. The crown requests your presence.”

The walk is long and tortuous - you’re no longer afraid of being fired, more like getting struck down by lightning. You trust Silver, but you know his kindness ends where his duty begins.

You’re not taken to the throne room or in front of the queen like you expect.

You’re taken to the chambers of the prince.

Malleus Draconia sits cross-legged at the head of the wooden table in his room. There’s two steaming teacups, one sitting in front of him and the other at the opposite end of the table.

You’ve seen glimpses of him here and there around the kingdom, but this is the first time you’ve been able to take a good look at him. His presence is more intimidating than you’d even imagined, his tall stature and broad shoulders making him seem imposing even if you didn’t know his magical capabilities.

He smiles when he sees you, but his expression looks wrong. It makes something in your gut twist.

You don’t smile back.

“Thank you, Silver,” he says, his tone steady and revealing nothing. “Please, leave us.”

You want to beg him to stay, but he nods at his prince and does as he’s told, shutting the door and trapping you in.

Malleus motions for you to sit at the single empty chair.

“Please,” he says. “I’ve had them brew some tea for us to share.”

“…Thanks.”

“Do you like the centrepiece? I picked it out just for you.”

A glass vase full of fresh cut pink tulips sits in the centre of the table, on top of a dainty, white lace place mat.

“Yes…thank you.”

“I’m glad to hear.” He leans slightly forward across the table. “I want to make you happy, MC.”

“No offence, your majesty-”

“No need to be formal with me, my dear.” He continues to smile. The grin unsettles you further; as though he’s attempting to lull you into a false sense of safety, just waiting to sink his teeth into you.

“Why am I here? Why did you…set all of this up?”

“You’re here because you’re my beloved. I’ve watched you for months, you know.” Your stomach drops. “I wanted to stay away, to leave you be. I know now I was wrong. I should’ve brought you here much, much sooner, my love.”

“Watched? What do you mean? Why-” Your voice rises as you become more panicked.

The thorny vines growing around your wrists and tying you to the chair stop you from standing up.

You never even noticed them begin to bloom.

“Shh, there’s no need to have a tantrum. It’s all okay, MC. I know you will need time, but soon you’ll fall for me, as I have you. We belong together.” He stands from his chair, walking over to your side and placing his hand on your forearm as he kneels beside you.

“Please let me go,” you whisper, wetness pouring down your cheeks, despite how you try to hold in your tears.

His expression darkens as his grip on your wrist tightens to a level of discomfort. “We all have a role to play in the kingdom. It’s treasonous to not play yours.” He tilts up your chin to face him. “You wouldn’t want anyone else to end up like that little friend of yours, would you?”

#tw: yandere #twst x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #yandere malleus draconia #malleus draconia #yandere #twst #twisted wonderland #k.concepts

[minhosbxtch]

Waiting

Azriel x reader

Warnings: self-harm, language, starving oneself, thoughts of uselessness, slight suicidal thoughts

Come to my office. We need to talk, Rhysand spoke in your mind.

A bolt of fear went through. Shit, what did you do this time? Did he find out that you-

You're not in trouble. I just need to talk to you. He said, sensing your fear.

You made your way to his office, not bumping into anyone, thank the Mother. You were a nervous wreck right now, despite Rhys' assurances.

You creaked open the door to your High Lord's office to see him sitting at his desk, hands neatly folded in his lap with a soft smile.

"You called?" You questioned, still nervous.

"Yes. I wanted to talk to you about something," at your eyebrow raised, he cleared his throat and said, "I know about the mating bond between you and Azriel."

You froze. "You didn't tell him, right?" You whispered.

Rhys shook his head, "No. There are also wards around this office, so he can't hear a word we're saying."

You relaxed slightly until he asked, "Why haven't you told him?"

"Why did it take you so long to tell Feyre?" You shot back.

He raised his hands in surrender at your aggravated tone. "I just want to know. You seem withdrawn and a shell of what you used to be, and I just want you to be happy."

You slumped at his words. "I didn't want him to be shackled to me, especially since he loves Elain. He just seems so happy with her."

His eyes softened, and he sighed, "I know how it feels. You feel like you'd burden him with the mating bond."

"Well, there's that, and also I want him to choose me. I don't want him to just want to be with me because of the mating bond. I want him to love me regardless of the bond," you confessed.

He nodded and asked, "How long has it been since you found out?"

"Since Elain and Nesta became Fae," you ground out, wincing.

Knowing about the mating bond, you must watch him fall for Elain. He rescues her from Hyburn, giving her Truthteller, all the glances, their walks around the garden, and the happiness on his face whenever she showed up.

It was agony. You finally realized how Rhys had felt watching Feyre.

"Does anyone else know?" He asked quietly.

You nodded before saying, "Cassian and Eris."

"Eris? You told him?"

You shrugged and said, "He sorta guessed. When you and him were meeting in Hewn City and I was there he talked to me after and asked why I seemed like a shell. He guessed it was Azriel but didn't know we were mates until I told him. Cassian was a similar story. I made them both swear to not tell."

Rhys nodded in understanding, knowing your past with Eris. The two of you had been friends long before the incident with Mor and remained friends long after. You were the only reason he wasn't dead. No one else knew of your friendship with the Autumn Court heir but Rhys.

Eris had found you over the Autumn Court border, injured, and instead of taking you to his father, he took you to a cottage in the woods and nursed you back to health before helping you get back to the Night Court.

"Thank you for telling me. I swear to not tell as well."

You felt another tattoo form next to the two identical tattoos on your bicep. The tattoo was the same for each.

Rhys peered at his new tattoo and chuckled softly. It was a half of a heart mostly concealed with what looked like black flames.

You suppose that's what your heart felt like right now. Broken and burning in silent agony.

Rhys nodded at you and said, "Azriel should be coming in here in a few minutes if you want to slip out before he gets here."

You nodded your thanks and stood up to leave to get your training in for the day. Cassian had taught you ages ago and now expected you to train yourself now that he was busy training others.

You felt the mating bond grow stronger as it sensed Azriel coming down the hallway. You quickly turned around to go the other way before he could see you.

You practically jogged to your room and got dressed in your leathers and headed out. Cassian usually trained from breakfast to lunch and Azriel trained at night so you would be undisturbed.

You saw Emerie and Gwyn still out there from this morning, Nesta was nowhere to be seen. You gave them a quick smile as you went to pick up a sword. They both smiled brightly back. You liked and respected all three of them.

You didn't specially seek them out, not wanting to intrude. They had a special bond that you couldn't stand. It was nothing against them but when you hung out you always felt like an outsider. They had gone through things together do they of course would be close.

You channeled all of your anger at Azriel, at Elain, at the Mother, at the world into the sword as you swung again and again and again at the practice dummy.

When Cassian was teaching you he said it was a great way to get anger out and he had no problem letting you swing for the entire practice as long as you had good form. He would let you battle the dummy occasionally stopping you to correct your form. Cassian did the same thing with hand-to-hand combat.

He understood how therapeutic it was. He and his brothers did the same thing, just on each other. But he didn't want to be on the receiving end of your sword. When getting your anger off he volunteered to be the dummy. He could handle you easily with hand-to-hand combat, blocking your punches. But your sword was difficult for him. Your sword was just a fast extension of your arm, he received several scratches from being your dummy before he resigned.

After an hour you switched to hand-to-hand combat, your weakest spot. You were too lost in the routine to notice the sun was quickly going down. You just kept punching and kicking and punching.

You paused to catch your breath when you realized how long you'd been out there. You'd missed dinner from the sound of your stomach. Oh well. Wouldn't be the first time.

You went inside to go shower but as you walked to go to your room you quickly paused. The Inner Circle was all in the living room laughing and drinking. They looked so happy. Maybe you weren't needed. Maybe you could just leave permanently and nothing would change.

Then you spotted Elain with her head on Azriel's shoulder. Both of them looked happy. Something inside of you broke at that.

Instead of taking your usual route through the living room to get upstairs, you went around the back way so no one could see the tears brimming in your eyes.

You were numb. All the anger, the sadness, and the frustration were gone. You didn't feel the water as you bathed, didn't feel the clothes you put on, and didn't feel the blade as it tore into your skin again and again and again.

The only thought in your head was Dang at the sight of the blood on your arms, stomach, and thighs as you stared in the mirror blankly. Not caring you took a towel and wiped the blood off but it just kept coming.

You took another bath and wrapped your cuts. They were layered over steal healing ones and scars. You knew this wasn't good but you didn't care.

You got dressed and just laid in your bed until sleep pulled you under.

-'~{~}~'-

You woke up to the stinging and burning under the bandages. Bleary-eyed, you stumbled to your bathroom and pulled your shorts and shirt off to see the bandages.

You opened your cabinet that had the bandages in it and found that you were almost out. This would probably be the last change left. You didn't really care about dressing your cuts but if one of them accidentally opened in the night or the day you couldn't have anyone asking questions about if you were ok.

You would have to go to Velaris to get new ones. You also would have to make another excuse for what you needed. Maybe you could convince Cassian to drop you off.

You finished the bandages and put on leggings and another sweater. You could ask Mor but she'd probably make you try on a dress that was too revealing and might show the bandages. No, you couldn't have that.

After splashing your face with water, you headed out to get coffee. That was going to be the only thing you ate until dinner since you probably wouldn't get to skip today.

Mother, how did Elain do it? She ate normally and still remained the perfect size. While you barely ate there was never any change. How was she so insufferably perfect? She was as beautiful as a flower herself, incredibly kind, and perfect in every way. She couldn't blame Azriel for being attracted to her.

Poor Lucien though. Honestly, maybe you should just get with him and leave both Azriel and Elain in the dust.

You knew neither of you could do that but it was a nice wish though.

On your second cup of coffee, Feyre came in and smiled before digging into a breakfast of biscuits and pastries.

"Do you want any?" She asked, between mouthfuls.

"No I already ate," you lied with a smile.

She nodded and smiled back before going back to eating.

Honestly, all of the Archeron sisters were perfect. Nesta included. She might have been prickly at first but now she belonged there as much as her sisters did.

Well, you could ask Feyre to take you down to Velaris. She might have another painting class.

"Are you going down to Velaris today?" You asked your High Lady after taking another sip of coffee, black, it was bitter but it had fewer calories that way.

She paused her eating to offer, "Yes. Would you like me to take you?"

You smiled gratefully before answering with, "If that's not too much trouble for you."

"It never is. Just let me get ready first," Feyre responded kindly.

"Of course."

Suddenly Azriel came in and the bond between you both came alive in his presence. Clenching your teeth you filled up your coffee cup for the third time, keeping your back turned towards him.

Feyre gave you a questioning look at your reaction but thankfully Azriel didn't notice. You could hear Feyre and Azriel talking but paid no attention to your conversation and you watched your coffee fill up.

At a touch at your shoulder, you snapped around and winced slightly to see Feyre looking concerned before asking, "Hey, did you hear what I said?"

You blinked before saying apologetically, "Sorry I drifted off. What'd you say?"

"I asked if it was ok if Azriel came with us."

"No yeah, it's fine," you said despite the drop in your stomach. Maybe that was from hunger. You couldn't remember the last time you'd eaten.

-'~{~}~'-

An hour later, the three of you were in Velaris.

"Here I got to get to the studio so I'll see you later," Feyre said waving goodbye.

You waved back and turned back around to walk away before Azriel asked, "Are you okay? You've seemed off lately."

Mother wonder why. Maybe because my mate's in love with another female that's perfect as can be and there's fucking way I can even hold a candle to her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just tired," you lied. You being tired was always your excuse. Well, it was telling the truth partly at least.

Azriel nodded his understanding before you walked away to look for things to disguise why you really came.

Unfortunately, Azriel still followed you as you weaved around the market.

That just meant you had to buy a shit-ton of other stuff to make it look like you came for another reason.

You went from store to store until you had three bags full of stuff you didn't need but wouldn't arouse suspicion. Two of your bags were full of books while the third held a couple clothing items.

With all the extra shit I bought bandages shouldn't seem too suspicious.

You went to the small store that you always bought from and got 4 rolls of bandages and some pastries. This store had everything from books to instruments to random alcohol. It might've been a little shady but oh well.

The only thing Azriel bought was metal cleaner and another dagger sheath.

With four bags full you were exhausted. You had to talk to way too many people today. You just wanted to go home and take a long nap.

Feyre luckily only had one class today and was done rather quick after getting a bite to eat. Thank Mother she didn't invite you. It would've looked weird if you didn't eat.

After she winnowed the three of you back you set the bags down, your arms tired. Azriel picked two of them up and helped you carry them to your room.

With him in front of you, you had to stay back far to not brush his wings.

"What the fuck is this," Azriel growled in front of you as he entered your room.

Fucking hell please no. Shit, shit, shit.

You in your tiredness forgot to throw away or hide the bloody towels from the previous night.

Azriel turned around and looked you over as if trying to find where the blood was coming from.

He took a deep breath and asked, "Where is all of this FUCKING BLOOD FROM?"

Your eyes widened. You'd never heard him raise his voice. Faking a calm image you just shrugged calmly and said, "I don't know."

Azriel's eyes burned into yours trying to assess if you were lying. You just held his stare, trying to act normal.

Oh Mother, he definitely knew you were lying. He was fucking spymaster of the Night Court. The Shadow of Death. Still, you played calm.

Instead of breaking the silence you just stood there, your stare cool and composed against his, burning with fury.

"Well this is your room so obviously you have to know," Azriel said coolly.

"Well I don't and you're right, it's my room, so it's none of your business," you hissed.

He threw up his hands in exasperation and yelled, "Well there's blood all over these towels and you're not on your cycle so what is it then?"

Thank Mother you shut the door.

"Get your damn nose out of my fucking business," you yelled back.

"Well you've been moody and now there's blood all over your towels and you haven't been at meals so just tell me WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

"WELL THAT'S WHAT I'M TRYING TO FIGURE OUT YOU DICKHEAD AND YOU AREN'T HELPING," you screamed, tears threatening to escape.

He paused, "You haven't been... hurting yourself, have you? Right?"

You stayed silent trying to reign the tears back in.

"That's why you needed more bandages and why you winced when Feyre touched your arm why you've been covering yourself up and why you haven't been eating..." Azriel's voice trailed off as he looked back at you, "But why?"

The question lingered in the air for several moments before repeated more firmly, insistent, "Why?"

You looked back up angrily, and with the most emotion you've had in days said, "Because my mate doesn't fucking want me. He wants someone else. I've watched them fall in love for almost two years. Two fucking years I've watched and waited. Nothing changed. Nothing. Fucking Changed."

Azriel was shocked he knew you'd been off for a while but he'd just figured it was the war.

"Do you realize what that does to a person, Azriel?" You let out a bitter laugh and a tear slides down your face. "It tears you apart from the inside. You try so hard to hold yourself together but then you crack and the cracks get larger and larger until it consumes you. And then you're spiraling and you can't get out and no sees, no one notices. Do you know why? Because they're already happy. They have all they need. They're so blind with happiness that they don't see you drowning until it's too late."

Your face crumples, "And your mate," your voice broke, "and your mate... they don't give a fuck. They don't even notice you. You try so hard to be kind, and nice, and you try to be beautiful, to be skinny. Like the one he loves."

And then you break.

Your knees give out and you land harshly on the floor, sobbing. You tuck your knees to your chest and sob into your hands.

At first, Azriel just stands there, listening to your heartbroken sobs. No these were more than heartbroken, they were full of despair and hopelessness.

As he stared at you some part of him twisted in agony, flailed to be let out. He froze as he realized what it was. A fucking mating bond.

He was the one responsible for your sobs that wracked through your body. He was the one responsible for you not eating. He was the reason you thought you weren't enough.

He dropped to his knees in front of you and gently reached out for you. You didn't react until he pulled you into his arms, cradling you, letting you soak his shirt in your tears. You slumped in his arms, not having enough energy to resist.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and said, "I'm so so so sorry. I... I thought it was supposed to be 3 brothers and 3 sisters."

You didn't respond but your cries had become less violent.

He continued to stroke your hair and whisper how sorry, how stupid he was forever even thinking about Elain.

He felt you through the bond. Your sadness. Your hopelessness. Your self-hatred.

His heart broke at the thought that he did this to you. Your mate, who was supposed to love unconditionally, forever, did this to you. This wasn't even the full extent of what you felt, yet this fraction was enough to make him feel hopeless.

He held you until your cries turned to deep, calm breaths of sleep. He carefully picked you up placed you on the bed and kissed your brow before leaving.

He walked down to the kitchen where Rhys sat. He gave him a nod and said, "I know now."

Rhysand froze. Azriel couldn't speak the words so he let down his mental shields so Rhys could see.

After, Rhys remained silent, eyes wide.

The silence stretched on until Rhys said, "I knew," Azriel's eyes snapped to him in surprise while he continued, "I had a suspicion and then she confirmed it when I asked."

He held up his hands before Azriel could erupt, "She asked me to keep it a secret."

"Show me," Azriel demanded.

Rhysand relented and showed him everything.

Azriel rubbed his eyes before walking over to the kitchen where he made a plate of leftovers from last night and grabbed a glass of water before coming out and starting up the stairs.

"Oh and Az," he turned around, "you need to tell Elain about this." There was a look of warning in the High Lord's face.

Azriel pressed his lips together. He knew he would have to. It was inevitable.

"I'll talk to her later," he said while walking back up to his mate.

His mate. His mate that he'd ignored for the past two years as he pined after someone that had their own mate.

Mother, he felt awful.

Well, he deserved it.

-'~{~}~'-

You woke up alone in your bed.

How the fuck

Your thought was interrupted by Azriel, your mate Azriel, opening the door clearly struggling while holding a plate and a glass of water.

He looked up at you and saw you were awake and had noticed his entrance.

There was a long awkward silence until Azriel broke it by clearing his throat and saying, "I brought you some food and water."

You responded with a simple, "I'm not hungry."

"When was the last time you ate then?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

You just shrugged and repeated, "I'm not hungry."

"I don't care. You're going to eat this. I don't care if I have to shove it down your throat, your eating," he said tersely.

You two just stared at each other, until you sighed and took the fork, and began to eat.

Azriel visibly relaxed as you shoveled bites of mashed potatoes, mac & cheese, green beans, and chicken in your mouth.

"I also brought you this," he said quietly, motioning to a bowl filled with nothing but bread and a plate that had a generous slice of chocolate cake on it.

You started on the bread and could've melted at the taste. He had brought you every bread you thought the House could make. There was garlic bread, cheesy bread, rolls, sourdough, and various bread sticks.

You were in fucking heaven.

You almost offered Azriel a piece before remembering that wouldn't end well.

You were stuffed before you started on the chocolate cake, but that didn't stop you.

Once you were finished eating, Azriel spoke, "I'm sorry again. Just please give me a chance. This isn't just because you're my mate. I see you now. You're sweet and kind and funny and obviously a goddess-"

Before he could finish you had kissed him.

You kissed him hard and passionately after years of longing. Azriel reached up and gently cupped your cheek and brought you onto his lap to deepen the kiss.

There would be a time to ravish and worship you later. But right now he would show you how much you meant to him.

After you pulled away you closed your eyes as he cupped your face.

Pressing a kiss to your forehead he whispered, "I know how long you've been waiting and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for even looking in Elain's direction. I know there's no way to fully make it up to you but I'll try. If you want me to wait, I'll wait. I'll wait however long you want. I'll do whatever you want. Just to please you. To make you happy."

"I know full and well I'm not worthy of you," as you tried to protest he pressed a finger over your lips, "No, trust me, I'm not. First of all, you are kind and loving. You were kind to Elain even though it would've been easier to hate her. Second, you are gorgeous."

To help prove his statement his hands traveled up and down her body, not enough to make her uncomfortable, but enough to show he meant what he said.

"And third everyone loves you. How could I not? Hell Nesta loves you. Also, you're smart, sarcastic, funny, Mother I could go on." Azriel said counting with his fingers.

You smiled softly and said, "Preferably don't."

"Honestly I'm the one that doesn't deserve you."

Your eyes got sharp at that.

"Excuse you, I don't know where the fuck you got that idea from, but that's not true in the slightest," at his raised eyebrows you took a deep breath and said, "Let's see you're brave, witty, selfless, caring, smart, and an actual good male."

His eyes lightened with each word and with a smirk, he asked, "Can I get another kiss then?"

I mean how could you resist? He brought you food.

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[smolvenger]

The Ceremony (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: You and your dear prince, Loki of Asgard, are finally getting married. But in order for the marriage to be legitimate, your wedding night and consummation must be witnessed...

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: 18+ SMUT Y'ALL ! SMUT! SMUT IN THE LAST THIRD! Voyeurism, loss of virginity, fem receiving oral, p in v sex, dirty talk, loss of innocence kink and some possessiveness kink. But lots of fluff, especially romantic, wedding fluff. Loki is a good protective fiancee/husband. I did wee research on Norse weddings but it's not about the accuracy, it's about the vibes.

A/N: This was written especially for @lokisprettygirl/ @lokisprettygirl22 (if I tag the wrong person, I apologize!) Follower Count Celebration as a submission! Wanted to try something I always wanted to write and get a new piece out there! Enjoy!

Comments, reblogs, dms, and asks about my work are always appreciated!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over (with one small bit inspired by the weddings headcanons! :) ) @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

“The Wedding Night must be witnessed by the court in order for the marriage to be valid,” Heimdall announced.

There was a silence over the table where all of you sat. Your jaw dropped and the look on the face of your intended prince Loki, became pure white. The other faces at the table all remained composed. Though Thor looked down a little, blushing.

Your dear Prince Loki asked you to marry him in his mother’s garden. You kissed him and said yes as you both cried happy tears and embraced. You were not born to royalty like he. You understood that there were certain parts of etiquette that had to be upheld. Traditions that would be honored. And everything you learned so far made sense and didn’t seem too bad or out of place. Bow to the AllFather as king. Use “please” and “thank you.” Watch your words. Show respect to the Allmother Frigga. All of that was common sense.

But this…this was different.

You had never lain with a man before. You and Loki shared heated kisses and embraces, but they were always interrupted before it could go further. Sif would walk in and clear her throat. Frigga would call to talk to her son. And then hearing on the insistence of a future princess being chaste, you thought it was pure dumb luck. After the engagement, both of you agreed to wait. So, there would be absolutely no reason for anyone to object to the marriage.

But the times you imagined what your first time would be like, you never imagined it being watched by others!

“There are…ways around it, but it is how it is done…and Y/N, your parents assured us you are…untouched, yes?” Heimdall asked, despite the slight embarrassment in his tone.

“Yes…yes I am,” you confirmed.

Loki glanced at you, then he stretched out a hand to hold yours on the table.

“We…we don’t have to do it. No one should force Y/N to do it!” he argued.

“First, we must guarantee a possible heir should Thor never have one.”

Thor flared his nostrils.

“Second and more important, we need certainty of the marriage’s consummation. It could risk annulment if not-then you both will not even be considered married.”

Loki moved his chair to be closer to you and wrapped a protective arm around you. You could feel him tighten up. Like he was going to whip out his daggers and fight Heimdall there and then.

“Could I have a say in this? A choice?” you voiced out.

The idea….of people all watching then turned in your head. It was a little nerve wracking. But something else was stirring inside you. Finally making love to the most desirable man in the nine realms as people watched became suddenly…titillating. You felt your lower innards already begin to anticipate it. It was no longer dread…it was excitement.

Loki gripped your hand and arm. Both of you shared a look and then you stared out at them. Faces all turned to you. Odin was quiet and crossed his arms. Frigga only folded her hands, but her eyes were soft. Her mouth half-open as if to speak, yet she didn’t. Thor’s eyes became giant, blue plates on his face, and he listened with intensity. Now they had to listen to you- their future princess.

“I say…we should do it. We will have the bedding ceremony. It’s tradition and might as well follow it. And that way, no one will question Loki being my husband, as he is in my heart already,” you announced.

Loki relaxed- you felt the muscles from his arm and the hold on his hand soften. He even blinked rapidly and began a slow smile.

“I have my consent for the bedding ceremony,” you announced.

Loki looked at them with a nod.

“If she is fine by it, then so am I.” he agreed.

Done and done. Heimdall nodded with a small smile-it was settled with only a minor conflict. The table then moved on to discuss other things about the wedding. One minute you were discussing the consummation, and next there was discussion of what color the bridesmaids would wear, and which roast meat to serve at the feast! When they got up and left, Loki practically pulled you aside. He touched your shoulders, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Y/N. Let me know. You don’t have to please them-you don’t have to let them force you to do anything you don’t want to. Please tell me- you can always tell me your secrets, darling. Y/N- are fine with the consummation ceremony?”

“Why do you ask?” you pressed.

Loki cupped your cheek with both hands. His voice grew intense.

“I swore to you to defend you. And this includes my own palace- I won’t let any of them humiliate you! I’ll kill them if they do!” he declared.

You leaned into his touch, kissing his hand. You gave him a smile. You reached up to touch his hand, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“Loki…I…I am fine by it. I am…you need not worry. I think it will be nerve wracking, yes. I am not out of my wits to admit it. But it’s also…tantalizing.  I like the idea of people watching us when we do it,” you replied.

You heard him let out a long exhale. Then he wrapped his arms around you to keep you close. You both looked up at each other. You could sense the adoration in his eyes. He was protective-because he cared about you. And that made you even prouder to call him yours.

“My dear lady…and soon my wife…if this is not under any pressure, and your decision…then it is yours and ours,” he said.

You gave him a kiss on the cheek. He flashed a smile that could make Jotun itself melt.

“Then…only a week?” you asked.

“Only a week.” He confirmed.

“But Loki, when I lie with you the first time…Will it hurt?”

He smiles.

“Maybe not…unless you beg me to hurt you…”

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

Seven days flew by. Before you knew it, the wedding arrived.

It was a beautiful, opulent wedding. Flowers decorated the place in every corner. There was going to be an altar, or a hörgr, placed on the throne room on a table. Even that was decorated. There were green ribbons tied around each column and table. After all, you were still marrying a prince! The guests were all bedecked in their finest clothes. Long silk gowns and velvet draping the floors. To make sure there was no doubt that this was a royal wedding.

      Your bridesmaids did their best to calm you in the other room before it began. One squeezed your hand. The other smoothed out the skirt of your dress. Assuring you it would be alright.

It made your mind wander. You were about to lie with Prince Loki for the first time in front of others. It made your heartbeat faster. But no... that was for later. Now you only had to stand by at an altar and make vows before the AllFather. That was all. Nothing complicated.

“I heard that prince Loki himself is nervous! Pacing about the halls in his cape! All because he wants to be good for you! He’s the same as you are now!” one gossiped.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yes, really! Everyone gets nervous on their wedding day, Y/N!”

You did notice a little crumb on your dress from when all of you had snacks of bread, cheese, and grapes to keep you satiated before the meal. You laughed and wiped it off.

Your own gown was a white one- to represent innocence. Virtue. Though now that you were about to become a princess it sparkled everywhere in the long, full skirt. It was as if you were made of diamonds. But there was a touch of sensuality to it. The sleeves fell off your shoulders and revealed your neckline and collarbones. You had to smile at the big of cleavage it did show. To give Loki especially what he had to look forward to. Tonight, and all his nights.

Then it was announced for the marriage ceremony to begin. Your own parents went over to stand by you to give you away. to stand in the front row. To see you, their dear little girl, on her big day.

Servants held out lit candles for everyone. Thor's own seemed tiny in his big hands. Only Loki and Heimdall, who was performing the ceremony, did not hold any. Loki, bedecked in his armor, a smaller version of his helmet (he was worried if he kissed you, the larger helmet would knock down and whack you on the head before everyone watching), and green cape, turned to Thor.

"Brother, do not fret. I'll do the fretting for you!" Thor assured like a puppy wagging its tail. Thor couldn’t whisper if he tried, but his tone of voice was soft.

"How do I look?" Loki asked, rechecking to make sure his armor was clean for the hundredth time.

"Like a groom!” Thor assured him.

"Good..."

Thor patted a large hand on his shoulder. Then at the presence of so many flowers, the god of thunder sneezed a sneeze that could rattle bones into his arm.

      The guests all took their places, standing around the great throne room. They began to murmur like an audience to a new play. Then a few lutes, woodwinds, and a harp began playing. It was finally time.

Down went wedding party. Walking slowly to savor the occasion. They stood in their places before the altar. The guests all smiled brightly.

But none as much as Loki when you walked out.

  You walked down. You wore a veil over your face and saw it through that filter of white. But thin enough you could distinguish everything. It glittered like snow in the moonlight. You sensed that the guests smiled at you.  Your mother and father escorted you down there. You saw the court shifting their faces. Just to get a glimpse of you walking by.

 But you saw Loki at the altar through it. And feelings overflowed your chest to see him.  Despite the trembling in his hands, when you walked out, he instantly relaxed. Both of you locked eyes. You saw a small ghost of a laugh that made his shoulders drop. The gold among his green and black robes seemed to glow even more.

You noticed Thor in his long, red cape and silver breastplate next to his brother. Odin in his own armor and Frigga with her hair done up and standing bedecked in a gold dress and an elaborate necklace beaming at you. Odin looked a little bored, but what did you care? You were marrying the love of your life! You would deal with your father-in-law’s nonsense later.  

As you approached it, you handed your bouquet of flowers to a bridesmaid. Loki was standing taller when you got closer. His cheeks were red. You felt him warm up as you approached him. Then he took the veil and, with his powerful hands, lifted it from your face.

      All the eyes were on you and your own bread was curdling in your stomach. But as you looked into his eyes, you felt it was all worth it. You had never seen Loki beam so happily in ages. Your father gave you a kiss on the forehead from over the veil.  He placed your hand on Loki's. He then looked at the prince. Loki gave your father a wink and then both of you turned to face Heimdall.

You felt the god’s fingers between yours as he held it. You were entering this union together. IT was all you felt. It was like the world was just a buzz. The ringing of bells heard only in the distance. You turned your head to admire his handsome profile, and he looked back at you. For only a second, it was as if the two of you were alone in the realm. Then with an exhale, you both turned towards the altar.

"Dear people of Asgard, we are here to witness the matrimonial rite of Prince Loki, God of Mischief and Y/N. Now-make your vows to each other,” Heimdall intoned with his own powerful baritone, he raised a hand.

You both turned to each other, holding hands before the altar. Loki looked at you with his beautiful, blue eyes, and though they were wedding vows, they seemed to come naturally as if they were words just appearing in his mouth.

"I, Loki, do swear before the AllFather and AllMother, take you to be my wife, my friend, my lover, and my companion. From this day until only death parts us. Before our family and friends, I pledge you my fidelity, refusing all others as long as we live. My softest words and tenderest embraces. The protection of my crown, my magic, my sword, and my body. In battle and in peace. In sickness and in health. In joy and in sorrow. I shall respect and love you boundlessly, no matter what may happen to me or what you may do. I shall support and cherish you each morning, day and night.  From this hour, as long as we both live."

The words from him sounded so lovely, you felt a small tear in the corner of your eye. But your smile never dropped.

With a steady voice, you said your own vows back at him. There was an exchange of swords between your families and Loki’s-to symbolize the protection you would give each other. Heimdall’s then brought two rings, conjured by magic. You each slipped a ring on the finger of the other. Perfectly fitting gold bands, golden as his helmet, as light, as warmth. Both of you peeked down at the pretty bands and how they matched each other. For both of you knew, two souls so in love they merged and melded as one.

“AllFather and AllMother, protect and bless them, guide them in their new union…” all began to pray.

There were a few final prayers and a hymn. Incense was lit in honor of Freya, the goddess of love, along with an offer of flowers. Then Heimdall turned you both to face the palace. Heimdall was a serious man, but you heard his voice declaring with joy from behind you.

      "The AllFather and Allmother Now, before all the gods, the people of Asgard, and -I now declare you both-Prince and Princess of Asgard. Husband and wife. Now...seal your vows with a kiss before all."

Loki turned his face to you.  You felt his hands go to your waist pulling you closer. He kissed you there in front of everyone. You felt his tongue push forward. and you let a small sound at the feeling of it. Definitely a more sensual kiss than the normal chaste pecks he would give you in his family’s presence. You could taste cinnamon on his tongue and feel the slight brush of his long eyelashes against your face from how close he was. Then he let go. 

Everyone raised their candles and cried "All praise the AllFather and Allmother. The Prince and Princess of Asgard!"

Then they blew out their candles and applauded. You and Loki held hands as music soared. Both of you walked arm in arm. Glancing at each other like excited children and then each other. Flowers petals were even thrown in your direction as you both made you way down there. Down to the feast.

 The meal was brief. At least, it felt brief for you. Talking and attending to so many people who came over to wish you both congratulations. Loki even made a toast, calling himself the luckiest man in the nine realms to be yours. There was more food than you could name. You enjoyed the foods served that you loved. Loki insisted that you have a break from talking to guests to eat your own food at your own wedding. You ate until you were full, but not surplus to where you would get sick. Good night, if you had to have your wedding night before witnesses, you were not going to vomit.

But the time was passing. Loki looked over at you. He noticed a servant take away your plate.

“My love…are you ready now….for the…the other ceremony?” he asked.

Your heart picked as if you were running, though you sat still. Then you nodded. You brought his hands to yours and kissed it.

“Yes, husband, I am,” you assured him.

Loki looked at Heimdall. He rose and all the happy chatter from the meal fell silent.  

“Now…it is time for the bedding ceremony…” Heimdall announced.

You were led into two separate chambers. Your bridesmaids dressed you out of your gown into a white robe. It was made of lace that was so light on your skin, it was a little cold. But it was beautiful, and you touched the pattern of the fabric of your sleeves to feel it. They escorted you out through the halls. You felt your blood course through you, but you did your best to put on a brace face. But there was some stifled and suppressed giggling from all of them- even you out of your own mixed excitement and nervousness.

You were led back out to the throne room. Now there were torches alight, but it was still dark. The night’s darkness had shone and spread her ink through, and one needed a lit candle to get around. There was a crowd of courtiers, all of whom were wedding guests. But most striking of all- a bed was moved to be there in that room.

It was a canopy bed with light, white drapes. enough room for the two of you to sleep-or rather, to not sleep. Thin as a summer breeze and just as delicate.  Right before the altar and there, the two thrones. The bed itself was surrounded by flowers around it, lovely white roses and a few green ones, complimenting the green sheets and green pillows. Such a bed could only be conjured there by magic, created by magic.

Loki was then given to you. He had his own silk green robe on. His raven curls dangled over his shoulders. You saw a peek of his delicious chest from the V of the robe and licked your lips. He walked up to you. He wrapped his arms in an embrace and then whispered into your ear.

“Are you ready, my dove? Are you ready?” he repeated.

“Yes…yes I am,” you answered.

There were the musicians- the harps, woodwinds, and you heard drums too. They began to play from the corner. The court gathered more lit candles-it was dark. But with music, the candles, the flowers, and the pretty bed, it did make it…romantic, oddly. It could be much worse. Much worse would be a rough, awkward tumbling before your parents.

Loki cupped your face. He looked at you- raw without all your finery. Seeing every bit of you. His eyes did have lust as they wandered to the skin that peeked from your lace, but there was more…he was quiet. His thumb traced over your lips.

“What is it?” you asked him,

You’re so…so…beautiful…so wonderful…” he murmured.

He gave you a kiss on the forehead. Then He then turned to all of them. He raised his arms out, a signature gesture with that smile that oozed charm and mischief. Such a man. No wonder it was easy to love him. And easier to marry him. Now you only had to lie with him and now that seemed easiest of all. His own voice made desire soak through you and you felt your legs squirm, a wetness growing between you as he said the words.

“Now, all of you wish to watch? Then watch. Witness just how much I love this woman. I adore her. I want her. And now that she is my wife, see how much love and pleasure I can give her in one moment…” He boasted.

He returned to you and began to kiss you. But deeper. It was a loud, wet kiss with more tongue. You could taste the feast on him, his breath. He groaned and he kept doing it, his hands wandering up your back, feeling how only one layer separated your skin from his. He removed his lips and voiced.

“And now…now your innocence is mine too…”

He pressed against you. You felt your own body against him, naturally. His hands went down to the tie of your robe. You began to take shallow breaths, your chest heaving. Loki’s eyes fluttered to see just some of how it moved with your breasts and his smile grew devilish. He only took one step away.

“All of this tucked away from me…not anymore now…let me take you in, my dear…”

He pulled on the knot once and it was undone. He then put his hands to your shoulders and gently slid the robe off. Dramatically revealing your shoulders, your breasts, your stomach. It pooled down to your feet in a puddle of lace, revealing all of you before the court.

The eyes were watching each inch of your skin. You raise an arm to cover yourself out of habit, feeling naked on the inside as well as the outside, but Loki gently removed your arms, smiling over your breasts, stomach, hips.

“You’re exquisite, Y/N…the softness…your shape…everything. And now they all will see you…and they’ll kneel before you as they do to me, it’s only what you deserve, my little princess. Let them see you…let me see you,” he whispered.

With a sigh he kissed you again, pressing his tongue further. He put his hands behind your head. You felt him get hard beneath the thin layer of his emerald silk robe. You wrapped your arms around him, you felt yourself moaning. You were pooling more to where you wondered if a bit of your desire would creep down your thigh. You felt their eyes on you-not in judgement. Maybe like Loki said- in appreciation. Seeing you as a piece of art to be admired. Seeing you as Loki saw you. A goddess in your own right, your own way.

He then picked you up- wrapping his arms around you and you put your legs around him. You let out a little gasp and he only chuckled lightly at you. You felt your own folds opening right before his body and you shuddered, and he did too- that most delicate, private part of you now felt against him. Made public. But in a display that was more for him than for them.

He then set you down onto the bed. Positioned to where you were lying down.

“I can’t believe you’re my husband now…that I’m married to a god…” you said softly to him.

He spread your legs with his long, beautiful hands. You peeked and discovered his own cock was getting hard under his robe.

“I may be a god, but I can show you what it is to be worshipped-my hands, tongue, and cock are your acolytes now…” he replied.

He began to untie his own robe to give him freedom.

“And they make offerings, like this…”

He dove onto the bed. He lifted your legs and plunged his tongue inside your entrance. You felt him lick up your walls-gently exploring.  The feeling of him tasting, sucking on each small bit of you. You begin to gasp and moan.  The crowd whispered lightly.

“L-Loki….it…it feels so good…where…keep…yes-oh!” you began to moan as he tasted you.

 You felt his nose and his breath there, cold against your wet pussy. He gave a peck to each part as he climbed up. Up to where the most precious bud of all was found. He began to lick your clit, slowly. But you felt a tingle all around you. You let out another moan for not only the throne room but for the whole palace to see.

“Oh! Norns-yes…please!” you voiced.

You tried to reach your hands down to feel hm, his hair, his shoulders. To never lose touch of your husband. He paused. You could feel him smile against your opening-his own altar.

“Yes-I want you- let them. Let all of them know who it is who gives you pleasure. Let them all know who it is who you belong to now. Let them all know, and anyone who tries to spoil my marriage, that no man can fuck you like I can…no man can pleasure you like me…”

You let out another moan in response. You could feel the eyes of the crowd widening. Maybe they too were a little aroused by this display. This was a ceremony- sacred and necessary. But this time it was…different. Your own pleasure was there at the center. You made another sound that would have made the AllMother herself blush. Loki’s voice rumbled through your body.

He removed his mouth. He then moved to stand up on the floor, towering over you.

You felt as if you were staring to fly when he tasted you, but you never left the ground. But you had no wings that were open. You had your legs.

He then finally undid the knot of his robe. You realized how wet you were. You ached for him. You were writhing, sighing out. You still felt your folds dripping both with desire and the teasing of his tongue.

“Loki…please….I ache for you-I want you, I’m so ready for you-fuck me into this bed and make me yours!” you mewled.

He smirked. He let his robe fall free of the knot.

“A beautiful little innocent begging for me….hm, I have both in one. A princess and a concubine. How lucy am I… How would that beautiful voice scream when I thrust inside her…”

You ached for release. You felt a throbbing inside you. How long would this take? Would you have to touch yourself before he was done?

“Here…take me…take your husband…make me-one with you. Continue this ceremony! You begged.

There were prayers given up by the crowd. Soft but present.

“Gods protect them. Gods bless them. Gods give them peace.”

There was no denial that Loki himself was a god from his body. Out came his chest-perfectly chiseled pecs and abdominals. Strong biceps and broad shoulders contrasting and complimenting his deliciously small waist. A trail of dark hair leading down to where his hard cock was against his stomach. It was leaking already-he wanted you as much as you wanted him. Maybe more.

With another devilish smile, he then leaned down and got on the bed.

“Now are you ready, sweet little dove, to take me-your god, your husband- are you ready to be my wife?”

You nodded with a whimper.

He crawled on top of you, taking a look over your body. Beautiful and all for him for the rest of his days. And norns, he was going to take care of it. He kept your legs open, then began to sheath himself inside you.

“Gods protect them. Gods bless them. Gods give them peace,” chanted the crowd.

Finally, finally he first entered inside. There was only a little pain-but you let out a shout.

“Oh! Oh-you’re! You’re so…so big! I’m so full!” you cried wantonly.

You could hear the smile in his voice.

“A large cock and a beautiful wife…what more could I want now? Yes- cry out. Tell them how much you love this cock. How much pleasure it gives you, my dear…”

He began to thrust into you. His hips snapping slowly. You were letting out gasps-it felt so good. Better than you could have imagined. You were getting dizzy. You squeezed your eyes shut except to see him. To enjoy the feeling. Each thrust to your insides, to your womb was natural. How he fits you as perfectly as the rings around your finger. A small hymn was being sung by the crowd as the music played. Gentle as a lullaby but instead was not an offering of your virginity to a god of both mischief and desire. But the volume was   matched by your whore-like moans and the grunts of Loki on top of you.

The volume of the song increased. So did his pace.

He picked it up. He lifted your leg to be on top of his shoulder. You could practically hear your skin colliding each time. He began to slam you into the bed. It seemed the altar nearby and each candle was shaking from the power of his thrusts.

“Oh! Oh-my-oh-gods, husband! You’re-oh!” you started to cry.

“Yes…yes bit by bit…I’ll-nrgh-claim you-norns-yes, here on this bed…. Have them-damn-have them all watch-yes-watch you become a wife-gods-watch me -yes-that good little princess, good little wife, good little whore, too-norns-here-taking me-taking me well-“

He then placed you to lean against the tall headboard of the bed. So you sat up, slid you up.

“Darling, uhm-what is-“you could voice.

He wrapped your arms against your waist and hit you deeper. And a finger went down to your bud, and you let out another cry.

You felt the bed shake-you heard the flowers shake with you, petals dropping. The singing and praying and music continued, already overwhelming you with the pleasure of your husband’s cock. And all of them watching you become awakened to the joys of the bedroom before all of them. For them to know how much you both loved each other. And with a gasping kiss, he began to fuck you harder, deeper.

“The-the-the beds! It’s going to-to-to break!” you fretted between each deep, fast thrust. You held onto his chest and kept him close.

“Let it break! Let it! Gods-yes, my little wife-fuck! Giving me everything-norns, gods…”

You were gasping, writhing beneath his touch, feeling it all as he pounded. He was repeating your name, his own hymn in his straining voice.

“My wife, now mine, finally mine-hela-every way mine-should-should have you on the throne too-yes-have you on my cock there, have them watch that too-nrgh!” he grunted with each movement.

And you felt something spinning inside you. You were not going to last. It was all overwhelming you. Sweet overstimulation. The drums were beating, it seemed hard, and his thrusts were getting harder. The harps played and you couldn’t make out the words of the hymn.

He was going at it. Rutting at you-showing both the grace of a prince and the power of a lover. Something was bubbling. Like the wings but about to take flight. You were starting to shake inside. It was growing, growing, you were reaching it, reaching the top. You clutched onto him as you were shaking, practically bouncing on it, the moving bed.

“Loki…I think…Loki I think-I think-I thinkIthink-I’m going to…I’m going to…”

“Then cum, princess-cum for your husband-for them-or-would you-nrg-rather I stop-stop letting you enjoy this!” he hissed out.

“N-no! Please! Please don’t stop! Please! Please-don’t stop! Don’t stop don’tstopdon’tstopdontstopson’tstop-“ you were begging.

He was pounding into you at a faster rate than you thought. He fingered your clip, circles matching the speed of his cock.  He gave began to repeat your name. Like a growl, and then his voice increasing in volume. You were spinning, thrown out of control, bursting up, and up

“My-My prince! I-“

You felt something in you-then you let out a last voice into a scream.

You felt it burst on you. Your first climax. You felt him give another quick thrust and he came too with a cry. Then he held you, his thrusting slowed. You nestled into him. Your pussy was shaking and quivering harder than you thought it possible.

As the witnesses all watched-the members of the court. Feeling this spectacle. Right here in this bedroom. There was a last verse of the hymn. Then a final repetition of the prayer as you felt his seed spurt inside you.

“Gods protect them. Gods bless them. Gods give them peace.”

Loki then looked up. You brushed his black locks to see his lovely face. He was all flushed, full of bliss. Enjoying the high as you were. You could feel the coolness of his sweat and his own body heaving as he caught his own breath. He pulled out but remained close to you. He whispered into your ears.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m…I’m okay,” you replied.

He pressed his forehead against yours.

“I love you so much, Y/N. I’m glad. For this…for you…”

You pressed back. You closed your eyes and smiled.

He went back to the group. He offered you the blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders. Warm and safe.

“Give us some water-a rag! Bring us our robes!” he ordered.

He kissed your forehead and held you close.

“You…You were wonderful, sweet Y/N…that was incredible-you did well…” he said.

The robes were returned and there was a wet rag. He cleaned you both up from between both legs. After putting your robes back on, he looked at them.

“I’d like us both to retire, please. Now. She needs some rest after today-and so do I.”

As you walked out, you both still locked hands-anchoring each other. Finally, you were both alone in his chambers. Once the heavy door was shut and you were surrounded by his favorite dark green walls, you both sighed.

He led you to sit down on the rug and made the fireplace start a pretty flame by just flicking his wrist. He brought a thick blanket wrap around the both of you.

“Here…let’s have our own little celebration-just us…wine?”

“I’d love some wine,” you agreed.

He then used his seidr and conjured two glasses of a dark, garnet colored wine. He gave you a smile.

“Here…let’s have a toast…”

He chinked your glasses.

“To the Princess of Asgard….my wife. And the start of our lives together…”

#carrie writes #loki imagine #loki smut #smut #loki my beloved #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #loki odinson #thor the dark world #loki x y/n #loki x reader fluff #loki x female reader #loki tom hiddleston #loki x you #loki mcu #loki of asgard #marvel loki #loki god of mischief #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki (marvel) #loki #loki marvel #loki x reader smut #loki x fem! reader smut #loki x y/n smut #loki x fem! y/n #loki x fem! reader #loki x fem! y/n smut

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

The Good Queen

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing(s): Viserys Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong x Alicent Hightower, Harwin Strong x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen x Harwin Strong (I won’t apologize for everyone being gay for each other)

Tag: hotd the good queen

Warning: Fluff. Happy ending. No one dies (except Aemma, sorry love) and everyone lives. Age gaps. No feud. No greens or blacks. Slight gore.

Word Count: 3,901

Summary: The King must choose a new wife, and Alicent’s older sister, Y/n Hightower, is a suitable choice and a perfect match. For once, Viserys makes a decision that benefits everyone and upsets little few. The Seven Kingdoms are better for it.

Author’s Note: Not a request. Oddly enough, plenty request Otto imagines but never King Viserys. I thought I'd give it a try since I had an idea. But to be honest, Viserys x Reader are sort of background pairing/onlookers of this.

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

It was the most logical choice to pick the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower. It was also all part of Lady Y/n’s plan. After the death of her mother, she had become the guardian figure her younger sister, Alicent, truly needed in her time of grief and loneliness. Older and far more mature in beauty and wisdom, The Lady Y/n Hightower was determined to still give Alicent whatever was left of her childhood and did everything in her power to make her little sister feel loved and accepted. So if there were whispers regarding Alicent, Y/n likely knew about it. One night, her handmaid came into her room and warned her of whispers involving her little sister and the King. The maid spoke of Lord Otto placing Alicent where Viserys could see her after the death of the late Queen Aemma, and Y/n was beyond disgusted and furious.

However, instead of confronting her father, Y/n went behind his back and also placed herself where Viserys could see her. While she couldn’t stop Alicent from seeing the King at night without raising suspicion, she did, however, visited the King between meals and even ask Princess Rhaenyra if she could attend the Small Council meetings to act as another cupbearer. Rhaenyra, excited with the prospect of another woman being a part of the meetings, accepted the proposal. Y/n made sure to fill Viserys’ cup modestly and had even accompanied him in the royal gardens a time or two after that. It didn’t take much effort before he announced to his small council his engagement to her. Rhaenyra, sad but relieved her father found another wife, gladly welcomed Y/n into the family with open arms and was even more excited at the idea of Alicent being ever closer to being a part of her family.

The Hand of the King, however, was less than happy and voiced how displeased he was of her when finding time alone with his eldest daughter, “What have you done?”

“Done?” Y/n questioned from her vanity mirror, removing her earrings after a long day of the people of the court congratulating her.

“He was supposed to marry your sister.”

“Why would he want Alicent, Father?” Y/n tilted her head innocently at the reflection of Otto standing at a distance behind her, “She’s but a child.”

“In the gods' eyes, she is a woman grown.”

“So am I. I am the eldest, so why must she be married off first?”

“She’s the most comely lady in court.”

“If you think me ugly, Father,” she snarled, finally standing up and turning to face her father head-on, “Just say it and be done with it.”

“I had wished to marry you off to your cousin.”

“Ormund is Heir to Oldtown. Surely my uncle would want a better match for him to ally another large house to ours instead of within our own family. You’re a political man. Try to be smarter than the second son desperate for power.”

The insult strained their relationship if it hadn’t been strained already. Lord Otto barely spoke to his eldest daughter after that unless common courtesy compels him to do so, like complimenting her wedding dress before he gave her away to Viserys. Y/n may not have felt love when the King kissed her with the promise of affection and commitment, but she felt relief. Upon watching the way Alicent danced and laughed during the feast that night, entirely unaware and still innocent of childhood, Y/n knew she made the right decision.

It wasn’t long before Y/n was pregnant then the world as she knew it imploded with excitement. The maesters, after tending to all of the former Queen Aemma’s sickly pregnancies, were astonished to see Y/n flourish in quite the opposite direction. In a strange way, she was excited to be a mother, and practically raising Rhaenyra and Alicent helped with that dream.

At first hesitant, the princess grew to love Y/n as her stepmother, especially since the new Queen was her best friend’s sister. Even though Y/n was rumored to be carrying a son inside of her, Rhaenyra tried not to openly worry for her sake. She may be Viserys’ shiny new heir, but the idea of Queen Y/n having a son bothered Rhaenyra, even though Y/n tried easing her worries with the promise of always openly advocating for the princess’ right to the throne. This aggravated Lord Otto for obvious reasons. After Aegon was born, the Hand tried reaffirming his position over his daughter in order to persuade her into raising Aegon as the future king. In return, he got a stone wall, unmoveable even in the strongest of storms.

“You may be the Hand of the King,” Y/n had sneered at her father one night in the safety of her chambers, “But I am the wife to the King. I am the Queen.”

And with his daughter as Queen, Lord Otto found himself in lesser power than when she was just a lady of the court. With her baby boy on her hip, Queen Y/n attended many Small Council meetings, shameless at the stares of men around her when she took her seat next to Viserys, stealing the spot away from his Hand. Over some time, Y/n became to lean towards Rhaenyra when the princess poured her wine and offered small treats to her little half-brother. With the proper influence, Y/n had also convinced Viserys to grant his daughter a seat at the table, no longer a cupbearer. Y/n then happily stepped aside and let Rhaenyra sit next to her father while the Queen sat next to her own. By then, Lord Otto never felt further away from the King, physically and cognitively.

Even less so when his younger daughter was married off under his own nose. Like a carpet pulled underneath him, Lord Otto was forced to walk Alicent down the aisle and be handed off to her new husband, Harwin “Breakbones” Strong. Some wonder who could have ever picked out such a perfect match, while others looked no further than the Queen herself. With her father’s pawns now swiftly taken from him, Lord Otto begrudgingly asked King Viserys for his blessing to resign. Although shocked, Viserys only had to look to his wife before granting his Hand a dismissal.

Tail between his legs, Otto Hightower left for Oldtown, never to return to King’s Landing, even when his daughters produced him grandchildren. In his place, Lord Lyonel Strong was named Hand of the King and he was a better-suited friend to the throne, and most importantly, an ally to his Queen.

Queen Y/n was a busy woman, even while pregnant. Especially while pregnant. She couldn’t afford anyone trying to take away her power and influence when she was knocked down and so she was constantly on the move, no matter how round she got. Her daughter, Helaena, came quicker than Aegon, and so the Red Keep was filled with delight at the announcement of a new princess soon to roam the halls. Rhaenyra was delighted. She was spotted trying to teach the baby girl how to walk, letting her little sister hang onto her hands and trot over her own feet. Alicent was already a proud aunt, but she doted on Helaena much like Y/n used to dote on her own younger sister. It seems as though the Queen had been quite the influence between Rhaenyra and Alicent, both now fully grown, beautiful and proud.

If Alicent was missing her father, she never showed it. Instead, she spent her time excited when she learned she would soon be a mother herself. Watching Y/n raise her children, Alicent had grown to wish to be just like her sister one day. Harwin was kind to his young wife and understood his place in her heart must be shared with the people around her. He knew Alicent loved her sister, the Queen. He knew she loved her niece, Helaena, and nephew, Aegon, and above all, he knew she loved the Princess Rhaenyra. Harwin couldn’t blame Alicent. Harwin had grown to love her, too.

Y/n and Alicent were soon pregnant together, and it felt as though the Seven Kingdoms could not have had a more beautiful, plentiful summer that year. Everyone was happy, whether of the royal family growing or from the prospect of the harvest. Most of King’s Landing was always celebrating and most stomachs were full and warm. With the Queen and her sister expecting, the castle was alive with happiness and love.

However, Y/n knew there was one individual who was internally unhappy. She was no fool. The Queen saw the way Rhaenyra looked at Alicent and the way Alicent looked at Rhaenyra. Surely, Alicent’s unborn child sparked a deep-dwelling of sadness within Rhaenyra, longing still evident in her eyes. Eventually, Y/n saw the way Ser Harwin stared after the princess as well and knew that something had to be done. She wouldn’t dare dream of separating the three, but she knew that Rhaenyra had to marry soon or who knows what sort of rumors might blossom should someone else notice the tension between the princess, Alicent, and Harwin. Rhaenyra needed a husband, despite the princess making it difficult to find a suitor. Y/n knew where to look, but unlike the other times, it would take a lot more effort to convince the King of this match.

“No,” Viserys smiled, despite the clouds looming overhead, “Absolutely not. Daemon is not worthy of my daughter.”

“If you could have your way, no one would be worthy of her,” Y/n sighed, briefly smiling at her husband while rounding the Small Council’s table towards him, her hand brushing over the surface. They were alone at the moment, waiting for the other members to join them, “But she is your heir, and she’s no longer a child. She is unwed, and last I heard, Daemon had recently lost his wife, Lady Royce. As I understand it, their marriage was left unconsummated.”

“Others will look to him to be King, instead of Rhaenyra their Queen,” Viserys retorted.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Not everyone will be happy, no matter what decision you make, Your Grace.”

She reaches the King, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she crossed to stand behind him, rubbing his aging shoulders and physically feeling his body slowly uncoil and relax. Viserys sighs, long and exhausted, his fingers rising to rub his eyes, but instead reach further back and clasp Y/n’s hand instead. She squeezes his hand encouragingly, while Viserys still looked hesitant and forlorn, “He’s not worthy of her...”

“No,” Y/n leans down and kissed the top of his head, “But he does love her. And I think she loves him, too. They are dragons, Viserys, and your kin. Your house sigil requires three dragon heads. If Rhaenyra is to be Queen someday, then she will need heirs of her own. She’ll need dragons. This marriage proposal is not an unheard-of custom, especially for a Targaryen. This alliance will keep your legacy strong long after you and I are gone, and your reign over Westeros will remain peaceful long after Rhaenyra has passed on.”

The Small Council meets that evening, and Viserys announces Daemon and Rhaenyra’s engagement. For supper, that night, King Viserys and Queen Y/n sit beside Rhaenyra and invite the children and Harwin and Alicent along for the celebration as well. Rhaenyra’s eyes sparkled again for the first time in a while, and if Y/n noticed the tight grip her stepdaughter had on her hand, she didn’t comment.

Thankfully, Daemon was on board with this proposal and made no fuss when he was summoned to King’s Landing. Both he and Rhaenyra were married by the end of seven, long days of festivities. The newlyweds decided to temporarily part for Dragonstone, but both rushed back on their dragons when they received word of Queen Y/n and Lady Alicent both going into labor.

Aemond was a difficult delivery, but Y/n was, as always, overjoyed to have the infant brought into her arms. Down the hall, not long after Aemond was born, the Queen could hear a different cry coming out of her sister’s room.

Alicent birthed a son, Jacerys Strong. The whole kingdom rejoiced over their new prince and little lord. Many spoke about the bond the two would share growing up and strengthening the alliance between House Targaryen and House Strong. Lifelong friends were born that day, and Y/n could not wait to raise her children alongside her sisters'.

Rhaenyra quickly became pregnant as well, and by this time, Y/n had noticed the way Rhaenyra and Alicent hold onto each other as they roam the gardens, both of their husbands following them in tow. The Queen doesn’t miss the way the four often spend most of their time together, day and night. Sometimes, Y/n feels as though she’s intruding when watching them all interact. Rhaenyra and Alicent are usually glued to each other’s side, but if not, sometimes Y/n noticed Daemon accompanying Alicent and Harwin attending to Rhaenyra. There are times when even all three are attending to the princess as her stomach slowly grows. Now that she noticed this, Queen Y/n noticed other things as well, like how intense those training sessions between Daemon and Harwin can be.

For the most part, Y/n turns a blind eye and makes no complaint. She doesn’t say a word to Viserys, but she’s seen the way the King watches his daughter with her... group of confidants, and part of Y/n wonders if her husband sees it, too. Perhaps she is not the only one turning a blind eye in order to see Rhaenyra happy with the family her father always wanted her contented with.

Daemon and Rhaenyra’s firstborn is also named Aegon, nicknamed the Younger. Aegon the Elder was delighted when Rhaenyra confessed she named her child after her brother more so than the Conqueror. Viserys was a proud grandfather/uncle, holding the babe in his arms as he sat upon the Iron Throne to announce Aegon’s birth to the court. During the festivities, Viserys even made a lighthearted joke about how his darling wife was so young and it was nearly impossible to believe that she was now a grandmother.

More children came after that, though Daeron would be Y/n’s last after she broke out in fevers once she birthed him. She survived, but after that, both she and Viserys agreed that Daeron would be their last one. Alicent and Harwin bore two more sons, Lucerys and Joffrey, while Daemon and Rhaenyra had another son and a daughter, Viserys II, and Visenya. Despite a few age differences in between, all the children were raised together within the Red Keep and grew up nearly forgetting that they were, in fact, not all direct siblings. They were taught together. They trained together, sewed together, and fought together.

Ten years passed and they were the best years of King Viserys’ life, or so people claim. Even as his health declined, he made no room for sorrow, only joy when his children and grandchildren were involved. One of his favorite pastimes was overlooking the courtyard and watching as his children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews all played together. All of the Targaryen children’s dragons, still small with age, curiously watched them play as well, acting more like large dogs than fiery beasts.

As they got older, some of the boys got rougher. As siblings-who-are-not-really-siblings do, they all occasionally fight or they take their anger out in training. One unfortunate incident was between Aemond and Lucerys. Whilst training, it was clear that the cousins were angry at each other over something minuscule and so they tried to vent using the swing of their swords. Unfortunately, Luke swung hard and Aemond didn’t sidestep in time to avoid it. The very tip of the Strong boy’s sword slashed across Aemond’s eye, leaving behind an unspeakable scene full of blood and screams.

The Queen was summoned right away, directed to Aemond’s chambers where her son was already abed with the Grand Maester tending to him. It was a gruesome scene, even with the wound already cleaned. Aemond’s eye was swollen and angry, a long, ugly cut running through it, trailing down his cheek and over his eyebrow.

The maester moves away from the bed and allows the Queen to take his place by her son’s side as he explained, “I have given as much Milk of the Poppy as I could, Your Grace, but for a child of his size, it would be too dangerous to give him the proper doses he would normally need to relax. The pain has dulled, but it will linger.”

The Queen sits on the edge of Aemond’s bed, “It will heal, will it not?”

“The flesh will heal into a scar... but the eye is lost, Your Grace.”

Y/n’s face crumbles in distress, taking Aemond’s hand in hers while brushing some of his silver hair from his young face, “What happened?”

“An accident in the training yard, Your Grace, as I understand it.”

“Luke cut me!” Aemond cried in anger, “He cut me and I should have left my mark in return! I had my chance and I couldn’t take it! I wish I had!”

"Aemond," his mother warns, eyeing him with a look that only a mother could threaten with her child, “You don’t mean that. I understand your anger and your grief, but at the end of the day, what happened was an accident. Tragic, yes, but an accident. Luke is your cousin. He is a part of your family and he loves you. He would have never intentionally harmed you and you know it.”

She leans forward then and kisses his forehead, just above the top of the cut, "We can get you something to cover it up. Or, once it fully heals, we can replace it with a false eye. A diamond, perhaps? Ruby?"

Her lightheartedness softens Aemond’s anger, slightly, as he relents to his mother’s touch, leaning into her embrace as he entertains her idea, "Sapphire."

She leans back so he could see her smile of approval, "A fine choice, my love.”

The Queen stands up, taking her time to help Aemond lie down and get properly tucked into his covers. She lovingly pets his hair down as she turns to the maester beside her, “Grand Maester. Have some essence of Nightshade brought up to my son’s chambers. He needs time to rest and heal.”

“At once, Your Grace,” the maester bows then exits the room.

Y/n leans back down to her son one last time, bringing his hand up to her face to kiss his fingers, “Be hopeful, son. Women like men with scars."

She leaves the room and makes her long trek to the kitchens. Rounding a corner, she comes across her sister. Alicent was distraught and full of guilt, grasping the Queen's hands in hers as she cries, "I'm so sorry... Harwin and I will punish Luke accordingly."

"There's no need," Y/n is quick to reassure Alicent, her sisterly instincts kicking back in. The instinct never truly went away. It was dormant, but Y/n will always protect her sister, no matter how old she gets, "It was an accident, Ali. Aemond will not resent your son for it. I can imagine Luke is very distraught about what happened. You must attend to him. Reassure him that he was not at fault and I would never hold this over my nephew."

After she sent Alicent back to her family, Y/n returns to her original task and heads to the kitchens. She returns to Aemond's chambers a little while later, carrying a tray of food and drink for her son, ignoring the servants when they offered to carry it for her. Behind her, Aegon, Helaena, and Daeron are hovering in the doorway, poking their heads into the room and trying to get a good look at their brother abed. The Queen sets the tray down and turns back to the doorway with a knowing glance, “Come along. Dine with your brother but then leave him to rest.”

A picnic was made in Aemond’s bed, his mother and siblings surrounding him as they nibbled on bread and cheese. They talked about other things to distract the injured prince, telling stories about their day or laughing at a joke Aegon said. Viserys, in search of his family, limped into the room with his cane not long after, smiling softly at the scene before him.

After sending her other children away to let Aemond sleep, Y/n takes her husband's arm and carefully walks with him to her own chambers. His hair had begun to thin out and a hunch in his back drove him to lean forward or off to the side as he walked crookedly. He was no longer the peaceful, handsome king Y/n had married, and a small ache in her heart hammered every time she looked into his eyes, age spots and wrinkles beginning to form on his pale skin. Despite his troubles with his health, he still never looked happier.

"You are a wonderful woman, Y/n," Viserys held her arm in a firm grip, his kind smile pulling those wrinkles further up his face. His eyes dazzled warmly, happily, without a sign of a lie, "You're a good mother, a good queen, but most importantly you're a good wife. Had I not married you... I am not sure I would be surrounded by the most loving family and ruling such a prosperous kingdom. What would I do without you?"

Y/n smiled back, patting his arm affectionately as they make it down the long hallway of their home, "Best not to dwell on such a question, my love. The Seven Kingdoms are better off without knowing."

~~~

Viserys dies in his sleep a few years later. His health had gotten worse and the only thing he allowed the maester to administrate was the Milk of the Poppy to dull the pain. Otherwise, he didn't ask for a cure, nor did he try to even fight his illness. Many often wondered if, in the end, he was waiting to die. Others thought that guilt was a deadly illness and whatever secret the King had, died with him. After being given a window to mourn, the now Queen Regent, Y/n Hightower, crowned Viserys' rightful heir herself.

Queen Rhaenyra's coronation was grand, as what Viserys would've wanted for his beloved daughter. Daemon, his brother, proudly took the name, King Consort, while Rhaenyra named her firstborn son, Prince Aegon the Younger, her rightful heir. Lyonel Strong remained the Hand of the Queen, but his son, Harwin, was named Commander of the City Watch and was given a place at the Small Council's table. His children with Alicent were given titles to many lands, their oldest son heir to Harrenhal. Aegon the Elder was permitted the claim to Dragonstone, while Rhaenyra's other half-siblings were appointed as squires and cupbearers to her court, some were even betrothed to the Strong children.

Y/n, however, remained in King's Landing, despite being granted permission to go back to her family's home, Oldtown. With Rhaenyra's permission, she remained in the Red Keep where she had made a home among her children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. Y/n Hightower -once called the Good Queen- died in her bed many years later, after briefly meeting her first great-grandchild to her son, Aegon, and his wife and niece, Visenya.

There were no Blacks. There were no Greens. A hundred years will pass and everyone will know the story of how one woman stopped the Dance of Dragons from ever happening. Or better yet, no one will have ever even heard of it.

~~~

A/N: I know, I switched everything up and made everyone confused. This was a form of therapy for me after I wished that everyone in the show would just get along.

Part Two

#viserys targaryen #king viserys targaryen #viserys targaryen imagine #king viserys targaryen imagine #viserys targaryen x reader #king viserys targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon imagine #hotd #house of the dragon #paddy considine #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #harwin strong #daemon targaryen #otto hightower #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #helaena targaryen #daeron targaryen #rhaenyra x harwin #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenicent #rhaenyra x alicent #princess rhaenyra #daemyra #hotd the good queen

[natsaffection]

Kingdom of Secrets | Prologue | N. Romanoff

Knight!Natasha x younger!princess!Reader

MINOR DNI!! (18+!)

warnings: age gap (Natasha is 16 when she comes to the palace and the reader is 4 years old. At the end of this chapter Natasha is 33 and reader 21) fingering, begging, crying

word count: 4,5k

A/n: welcome to the prologue of Kingdom of Secrets! (Yes the title has a meaning) This is just the opening chapter. So it's not the first real part. It cost me already tears because I wanted it to come across the way people spoke back in the Middle Ages..so please give feedback!🫂

In the heart of the great kingdom of Celestria, where emerald fields stretch as far as the eye can see and spires kiss the sky, there was great anticipation in the royal court. King Alistair and Queen Seraphina Dawn, the beloved rulers of the realm, had long yearned for an heir to carry on the legacy of their noble lineage. The palace echoed with the whispers of courtiers as news spread of a momentous event.

Queen Seraphina was expecting a child.

Months passed, each one accompanied by prayers and whispered hopes echoing through the halls of the palace. The kingdom collectively held its breath, waiting for the joyous news that would bring new life to the royal family. The gardens adorned with blooming flowers bore witness to the ebb and flow of the seasons, reflecting the anticipation within the palace walls.

And then, as the golden colors of autumn tinged the landscape, the long-awaited moment arrived. Like a melody of hope, the announcement resounded through the kingdom and spread from town to town. Queen Seraphina had given birth to a daughter, a shining beacon of joy in the embrace of her parents' love.

The kingdom erupted in jubilation. Banners swayed in the fresh breeze, their colors dancing to the rhythm of the joy that flowed through the streets. The citizens rushed to the gates of the palace in their finest clothes to join in the royal rejoicing. The sweet scent of flowers was in the air and the distant sounds of musicians tuning their instruments heralded the great celebrations to come.

Inside the palace, the little princess lay in her mother's arms, wrapped in a tapestry of delicate silk. Queen Seraphina's eyes, glistening with tears of happiness, met King Alistair's gaze, a silent exchange that spoke volumes about the unspoken journey they had traveled to reach this blessed moment.

As the sun sank below the horizon, the palace gates opened to welcome the many well-wishers. The Great Hall, decorated with golden tapestries and crystal chandeliers, shone in the light of a thousand candles. Laughter and chatter filled the air as nobles, commoners and dignitaries alike joined in the celebration.

In the midst of this splendor, the little princess lay in her crib, surrounded by a symphony of admiration. Her tiny fingers, like rose petals, grasped at the air as if reaching for the love that surrounded her. The flickering candlelight painted her delicate features and cast a warm, ethereal glow on her.

Y/n, as she would later be called, became the beacon of hope that united the kingdom. Her laughter echoed through the palace like silver bells, eliciting smiles from all who basked in her innocent radiance. The court musicians, attuned to the heartbeat of the celebration, played melodies that blended with the collective heartbeat of the kingdom, a harmonious testament to the unity created by the birth of the princess.

Over the years, the princess's birthdays became a cherished tradition. The kingdom celebrated with greater fervor each year, turning the anniversary of her birth into a grand spectacle. The gardens, where once the whispers of anticipation could be heard, now bloomed in vibrant colors that reflected the princess's exuberant spirit.On her birthdays, the people of Celestria gathered to honor their beloved princess. The streets were lined with stalls selling sweet treats and enchanting trinkets. Musicians played lilting melodies and performers brought fairy tales to life through dance and theater. But amidst the splendor, it was Y/n herself who was in the spotlight.

Her laughter, the elixir that had breathed life into the kingdom years ago, echoed through the air. The joy that emanated from her was infectious and transformed the celebration into a mosaic of smiles and shared happiness. Y/n had become the living embodiment of the kingdom's dreams with her sparkling eyes and a heart full of kindness.

As Y/n grew, so did the kingdom around her. The once silent halls of the palace echoed with the footsteps of a vibrant princess whose spirit danced like the sunlight that fell through the leaves. She became a symbol of hope, bridging the realms of royalty and commonality - a beacon of unity for a kingdom that had waited with bated breath for her arrival.

And so, under the golden skies of Celestria, the royal court and citizens celebrated the birth of their princess, whose laughter echoed throughout the kingdom, mingling with the melodies of joy that had marked her grand entrance into the world.

But a shadowy group lurked in the hidden corridors beneath the splendor of the kingdom. Unseen and unheard, this gang shrouded in mystery plotted insidiously to infiltrate the royal house.

In the dimly lit chamber adorned with ancient symbols, the agents of the group - Shadows of Darkness - received a chilling instruction. The leaders, shrouded in the cloak of shadows, readjusted their strategy. Princess Y/n, an unforeseen variable, demanded an adjustment to their malevolent plans.

As Y/n's laughter rang through the palace, the group's secret game unfolded on an invisible chessboard. The birth of the princess upset their carefully laid plans and brought an element of unpredictability into play. Beneath the surface of the festivities, a calculated dance played out, where joyful echoes collided with the malice lurking in the shadows. Citizens and royalty revelled in blissful ignorance, unaware of the ominous threat lurking in the hidden corners of the palace. A dangerous dance began. One in which the laughter of a princess served as an eerie soundtrack to a covert operation that would reshape Celestria's destiny.

As daylight bathed the kingdom in golden hues, the shadowy group moved in secrecy. Their ominous influence extended to unsuspecting future queens. The dark puppet, manipulated by unseen hands, infiltrated the royal court and left a menacing presence.

The king, who had followers in every country, became aware of the terrifying power. Fearing for his family and the future of his country, he had his troops strengthened and also looked for a guardian for his daughter. So he spread the word throughout the country that a tournament was to be held in the late evening and that the bravest and strongest fighters were to take part.The anticipation of the great tournament was in the air that day. The king, seeking the perfect protector for his most precious treasure, gathered warriors from faraway lands. Men vying for the honor of protecting the jewel of the realm presented themselves in the arena.

The tournament, a spectacle of skill and courage, began with the clash of swords and the thundering hooves of warhorses. Knights from all corners of the realm showcased their skills, a dance of blades played out under the watchful eyes of the royal court.

As the dust settled and countless fighters succumbed to the skill of their opponents, there was a quiet tension among the spectators. The king, seated on his magnificent throne, surveyed the remaining warriors, his keen eyes searching for the one who would serve as a shield against the impending danger to the princess. Then, amidst the remaining fighters, a lone, young figure emerged, clad in armor that seemed to absorb the essence of the shadows. The air fell silent as this knight stepped forward, exuding an aura of fear and admiration. A murmur went through the audience, a collective acknowledgement that a formidable force had entered the arena.

The king, mesmerized and wary, leaned forward in his throne, a silent question etched on his regal countenance. "Tell me, what is a child doing on the field?" he asked his 1st in command. He bowed to his king, "Forgive me, my majesty, but you emphasized that the gates were open to anyone carrying a sword." The king forced the moment back into his mind and now looked further down, at the person.

At that very moment, the mysterious knight removed the helmet, revealing a cascade of fiery red hair framing a face marked by the scars of countless battles. Her piercing gaze, a mixture of steel and determination, met the king's eyes with an unwavering intensity. A murmur went through the hall as the realization set in. "Lady, Natalia Alianovna Romanoff," someone breathed, the name inspiring both awe and fear. As the first young woman to be knighted, Natasha was widely known, and her accomplishments on the battlefield were whispered about in saintly tones. The king, who also learned of her presence, widened his eyes.

As she approached the king, Natasha dropped to one knee, a sign of respect and submission. Her armor bore the marks of countless victories, and the sword at her side was a testament to her skill as a warrior.

"Your Majesty," Natasha's voice, a symphony of authority and humility, echoed through the arena. "I am Natalia Alianovna Romanoff, sworn to protect those deemed worthy of the Empire's protection. I offer my skills and loyalty to defend your princess, the jewel of Celestria." The king, observing the steely determination in Natasha's eyes, pondered her words. Isn't she too young to be a knight? Presently good..She could form a bond with Y/n. He thought.

The court remained in a collective breathless pause, awaiting the monarch's decision. After a moment's thought, the king nodded, a gesture that echoed through the arena like a decree.

"Lady Natasha Romanoff, rise. You have proven that you are an excellent Fighter. May the realm be witness to your service as my daughter's protector."

The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and whispers in appreciation of the gravity of the moment. Natasha rose from her knees and hid her features behind her helmet again. With measured steps, she returned to the ranks of the assembled knights, her presence leaving an indelible impression on the tournament and setting the stage for a new chapter in the kingdom's saga. Since then, the unique bond between the young princess and the fearless knight began to grow. Y/n, a little bundle of joyful energy, zoomed through the flowerbeds. "Tasha, look, I can fly!" she cried, spreading her tiny arms. Natasha, with a smile on her lips, leaned down. "Really? Show me, little whirlwind." And chase her through the field.

"Tasha, why are you so strong?" asked Y/n three years later, while they were playing in the halls. Natasha, with a mischievous smile, replied, "Strength comes not only from muscles, but also from courage and determination, my Princess."

The royal parents, from their thrones, watched the scene with warm smiles. "Look how Natasha is teaching our daughter," said the queen. The king nodded proudly. "A bond strengthened not only by duty, but also by the heart..I could not have chosen anyone better."

In the shelter of the pavilion, Y/n and Natasha talked about the years of shared experiences. "Promise me, Natasha, that you will always be by my side," Natasha, serious yet tender, replied, "As long as I breathe, I will watch over you, Princess."

Over the years, not only did Y/n grow up, but so did the love between her and Natasha. Adventures together, laughter and tears formed a bond that blurred the boundaries between princess and protector.

At the age of 20, Y/n found herself in the midst of an inner turmoil. The years had passed since Natasha had taken up residence as her protector, and a subtle change was creeping into the princess's mind.

In the quiet moments when the sun slowly disappeared behind the palace walls, Y/n discovered a growing urge to seek Natasha's closeness. Every look from the knightess, every gentle touch, seemed to break through an invisible barrier within Y/n.

The glances Natasha cast across the ballroom as they shared in royal festivities carried a deeper meaning. Y/n recognized the warmth in Natasha's eyes, which came not only from her proximity to the king, but betrayed something more intimate. Uncertainty gnawed at Y/n as she thought about these growing feelings. Society, royal expectations, all created a veil that kept her growing affection for Natasha hidden.

The Royal Mother observed the subtle changes in Y/n's behavior, but the secret remained hidden between the lines. Y/n felt her heart beat faster when she faced Natasha, and the soft sighs that escaped her were carried on the winds of fate.

One day, Natasha, bathed in sweat from the rigorous training session, gracefully moved through the courtyard, effortlessly wrestling each knight that dared to cross her path to the ground. As Y/n strolled through the palace, she unexpectedly caught sight of Natasha in action, sans her usual formidable armor.

Mesmerized by the raw power and agility on display, Yn found it challenging to look away. Natasha's every move seemed like a choreographed dance of strength and finesse. It was the first time Y/n had seen her like this, vulnerable yet invincible

Natasha, engrossed in her sparring session, sensed Y/n's eyes on her. Mid-wrestle with one of the knights, she subtly shifted her gaze to meet Y/n's, exhaling almost imperceptibly. In that brief connection, Natasha's intense focus softened, and a ghost of a smile played on her lips, as if she had caught Y/n in the act.

Y/n, startled by Natasha's awareness, quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be absorbed in the palace architecture. The blush on her cheeks, however, betrayed her attempt to conceal the intrigue Natasha's athleticism had sparked.

She continued her training, each movement deliberate and powerful. Y/n, despite her efforts to remain discreet, stole occasional glances, hoping Natasha wouldn't notice..

When a maid approached, unaware of the silent exchange, Y/n stammered, "I-I was just, you know, walking around," as she tried to divert attention from the fact that Natasha had momentarily captured her focus. Natasha, still engaged in her training, shot Y/n a knowing look, her eyes betraying a hint of amusement, silently acknowledging the unspoken connection while respecting Y/n's attempt to keep her feelings concealed.

Several hours passed, and Y/n immersed herself in the demands of royal duties. As she diligently attended to matters within the palace, she couldn't shake the memory of Natasha's training session. Much to her surprise, as she returned to the main hall, there was Natasha, seamlessly transitioning from warrior to protector, resuming her role by Y/n's side.

Their eyes met once again, and this time Natasha's expression spoke volumes. A playful glint in her eyes suggested a shared secret, referencing the earlier stolen glances. Y/n couldn't help but smile in response, a subtle acknowledgment of the connection they had formed.

Weeks later when the moon towered over Celestria, Y/n dared a tentative look into Natasha's eyes. It was as if the universe melded their souls together, and in that moment, Y/n knew it was more than mere reverence for the brave knight. The realization that her heart was following a path of love was like the blossoming of a delicate flower within her. But the world she lived in demanded secrecy - a love that blossomed in the shadow of royal duties.

Another year passed and Y/n's duties to the throne drew ever closer. Her parents now saw her as an adult woman who would later rule the people. However, this could not be done alone and the time had come to find a suitable mate. So they embarked on various journeys to neighboring countries to consider their princes and princesses. A point Y/n is proud to show. With all the fuss she secretly has about Natasha, her eyes opened to another part.

It was a sunny day when the royal family were visiting another kingdom. The family was welcomed with joy. But the festive atmosphere was pervaded by an underlying tension. As Y/n strode through the hall in royal garb, she was swarmed by the polite remarks and advances of the foreign prince. The looks he gave her were full of obvious interest, and the smile on his lips betrayed intentions that went beyond polite courtesies.

Natasha, standing in her imposing armor alongside the royal family, felt a flame of jealousy flare up inside her. Every passionate look, every touched hand, felt like a stab in her chest. In a quiet moment, when the prince engaged Y/n in a private conversation, Natasha could hardly bear the sight. Her hands clenched into fists as she inwardly fought back the burning sting of jealousy.

Finally, the festive gathering broke up and the royal family returned to their chambers. The opulent chambers of Y/n awoke to the pale glow of candles as the evening shrouded the royal estate in an atmosphere of twilight. The prince, wearing a polite facade, had made his intentions clear. But Natasha sensed the unease in the air. When the prince attempted to cross the boundaries of politeness and seek out Y/n in her chambers, Natasha turned cold as ice. Her eyes, normally as impenetrable as the darkness, bore into the young nobleman. Without a word, her gaze spoke volumes, and the prince retreated as if he had entered an invisible barrier.

When Natasha entered Y/n's chamber, the discomfort was reflected on Y/n's face. "Thank you.. I was so uncomfortable, but I didn't mean to be rude," Y/n murmured, her voice low in the intimate atmosphere. Natasha stepped closer, her touch cooler than the night breeze blowing through the open window. "My princess, you never have to compromise for politeness."

In a calculated move that blurred the line between protector and seductress, Natasha lifted Y/n's hand and stroked her fingertips over the delicate skin. "Don't let anyone enter your world if you don't want them to. You deserve respect and so much more."

The darkness of the room seemed to tighten around the two of them as Natasha continued, intensifying her own touch. "And maybe, there is someone..who is willing to go deeper than politeness allows."

The words echoed between the walls as the coolness of the night turned into a dance of desire. Y/n sensed the play of shadows as Natasha, took on the role of seductress. A passionate revelation that in the twilight of her chambers revealed a connection that transcended the duties of the royal hall.

The room lost its dimensions in darkness as Natasha and Y/n were caught in a mesmerizing dance of tension. Y/n's heartbeat quickened as Natasha's words sounded like a breath in the night, a promise that implied more than it stated. "Natasha, I don't know what you mean..." whispered Y/n, her voice caught between curiosity and an underlying desire that lingered in the air. Natasha stepped closer, her gaze like the dark veil of night that hid everything and yet revealed everything. "I speak of desire that goes deeper than any protocol that exists within the walls of a palace."

The atmosphere thickened as Natasha began to loosen Y/n's royal robes with deft fingers. "You can feel it, can't you? This suppressed energy between us. It's time to explore the shadows that lurk in the corners of our connection."

Y/n's breathing quickened as the warmth of Natasha's hands touched her skin. A mixture of fear and desire flickered in her eyes as she embraced the unknown.

"N-Natasha, I... Is this right?" asked Y/n, but her reticence was swallowed up by the darkness.

Natasha replied with a cool smile that betrayed a deep, hidden passion. "Right or wrong, Y/n, does not exist in this world of shadows. There is only what you desire and what you are willing to experience." The air between them was charged as Natasha gently placed her lips on Y/n's. A passionate kiss that burned down the blurred lines between duty and desire. Still, Natasha paused for a moment and looked her princess in the eye, “I notice your looks, your breath when I sneak up on you..you’re begging when I retreat to my chambers..” Natasha pushed the princess onto the bed. The redhead had Y/n's legs wide open. Open for her to devour.

Natasha licked her lips, staring at Y/n's underwear, a hungry look in her mouth. Y/n still felt the slight urge to protest. What is she doing here? What happens if her parents find out about this? Are they allowed-

But all words of resistance melted into a moan in her mouth as Natasha opened her entrance with her tongue. She lay down in front of Y/n, lifting the princess's legs by her thighs onto her shoulders. Natasha's tongue turned her princess's moans into groans and then shouts of ecstasy. After tasting Y/n for long enough, Natasha lifted her head. Her mouth was covered in Y/n's fluid, giving her face a glow that Y/n found simply intoxicating.

"How are you feeling? Can I continue?" Natasha's eyes widened as she saw the sight of her ruler. Spread wide and with her hands clenched in the pillows, "K-Keep going please..” Natasha smiled and climbed up to Y/n to take off her dress and while she undressed Y/n, Natasha kissed Y/n and she tasted herself on her lips. Without breaking the kiss, Natasha inserted two of her fingers into Y/n. In response, the young princess let out a deep moan into Natasha's mouth as she slowly penetrated her. As Natasha alternated between driving her index and middle fingers in and out of Y/n's cavity, Y/n was disturbed by the amount of armor Natasha still had on and set about removing it.

Natasha smirked again as she realized what Y/n's plans were and sat back up, "You could have asked, my highness..." Y/n's eyes were wide as she watched Natasha remove every single piece of metal from her body. Eventually it just tinkled on the floor and Natasha stood before her in a white shirt. She wasted no more time and pounced on the young girl again.

"What do you want me to do, princess?" Natasha now asked, breathing in unison with her aroused ruler. She had already slipped a hand between Y/n's thighs and was leaning on her shorts. Y/n knew what Natasha wanted to hear. "Please.." she begged, "fuck me." Natasha watched Y/n's flushed face. It was so, so lewd. This time, however, Natasha stroked a finger over the edge of her labia and felt how far the wetness had spread.

"You really want it, don't you?" said Natasha with a hint of smugness in her voice. Y/n knew it wasn't to humiliate her, but rather to increase her sense of exposure.

Yes, I really fucking want it, Y/n wanted to say, but managed to hold back. Natasha, however, didn't miss the look on her face before she leaned in and slowly kissed Y/n again. She began to run her fingers up and down the wetness between Y/n's legs, stroking slowly and rhythmically.

Y/n held back any sound that wanted to come out of her mouth, knowing there was more to come. A touch slipped past a certain spot so briefly and lightly that Y/n's body flinched in response. Natasha had to keep her senses together, just a little longer. The stroking and kissing gradually became faster, without either of them noticing against the backdrop of their growing arousal. Natasha's fingers were touching Y/n's clit more and more frequently now, and Y/n couldn't keep up, the tension between her legs growing and her mouth remaining slightly open.

"A-A-hh..." she gasped, and her body arched back more and more. She was crying out now, twisting and turning, her clit at the center of the movement, her hands wrapped around Y/ns, her face pressed into her shoulders, her upper body arched so that her breasts and erect nipples moved against Natasha's body in the same rhythm as the caresses between her thighs. "Nat-..Natasha...!" She cried out. "I'm... ah, I'm..."

Natasha kissed her neck in response and concentrated fully on bringing Y/n to climax. She wanted to hear her princess scream, to feel her thrusting against her body in a frenzy of pleasure. She wanted Y/n to lose all inhibitions and move against her hand like a horny slut. Y/n couldn't take it anymore. Her hips and buttocks began to move against Natasha, thrusting towards her with desire, begging her not to stop. It felt so dirty to cooperate and beg so earnestly, but Y/n didn't care about any of it. Natasha moaned along with Y/n and couldn't hold back either after listening to Y/n feel this way about her.

“Cum for me.”

When Y/n heard Natasha's soft and loving voice moaning like that, she shook with pleasure. Her mind went blank. The room disappeared, the bed vanished. The world consisted only of her body, which contracted and pulsated to release all its pent-up arousal in one go. Y/n didn't know how much time had passed while she trembled and shook and moaned, even though she didn't want to. All she knew was that Natasha had been holding her the whole time and watched every single facial feature of her beloved princess.

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[aelenavelaryon]

Daemon Targaryen x Selene Hightower

Summary: 𝓓𝓪𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓛𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝓦𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓢𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓮 𝓗𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷

Warnings: not edited? Nothing too crazy maybe some age gap

When Daemon's wife, Lady Rhea Royce perished on a trip across the narrow sea, his brother began to look for a new match. The king, had just married not too long ago. He had just named his daughter his heir but he had no children with his new wife just yet and his daughter was not married either. He wanted to secure his line. And what better way than through marriage?

Selene Hightower was Otto Hightower's youngest daughter. She was just like her sister if not more dutiful. Daemon had never paid attention to her as she had been back to Old Town with her family. Her return was a surprise to her as was her wedding to Daemon. Daemon didn't bother to meet her or nothing of that matter. Selene knew to not expect much from him. She cared very little for him but she was here to do her duty and she did. 

Selene Hightower and Daemon Targaryen married in the in the third moon of the year 105. Nine moons later they welcomed their first child, a son who they named Baelon in honor of Daemon's father. Lady Selene showed off her son every chance she got and the lords and ladies loved the boy who earned their love and affection. Daemon, despite being his moody self loved his son. After all the young babe took after him in every way. He took him flying across the skies a few days after being born, just like his mother had done with him when home was born. Baelon's dragon egg hatched that same night.

Daemon tried to be there for his son, that meant he would have to spend time with his wife, Lady Selene. Selene and Daemon welcomed their second child, Aemon just a year after Baelon. Daemon was there this time, he held her hand as she brought their son into the world. The maester held the baby before passing it to the nursemaids. "A boy, my prince, my lady" he said and she smiled. It was one of the rare times when he smiled at her. A genuine smile. The nursemaids let her hold her child and allowed her feed him too.

Daemon often took his sons on Dragon rides, their mother often watched them fly through the city from her window, a smile always gracing her lips. It was well known that Daemon and his wife did not love each other but they did their duty so graciously that even the king was surprise at his brother's change. Daemon no longer visited the streets of Silk. He no longer looked for other companions. Of course, as the prince and his lady wife made a life the king and his new wife had no children, every pregnancy queen Alicent had came with a stillborn or never made it past the second or third moon. Prince Aemond came a year after his brothers, and for a while prince Daemon and his wife choose to stop there. But, not for long.

Two years had passed. Baelon was now five, Aemon four and Aemond three when prince Aegon and princess Helaena were born. By then, Rhaenyra had two children of her own, prince Jacaerys and prince Lucerys, two children who looked nothing like their father or mother. Everyone knew of their true parentage but Selene and Daemon always kept to their business and their business alone. Helaena had been Daemon's firstborn daughter. His sweet dragon he would call her.

When Aemond was born, their relationship changed. Daemon wanted to spend time with her even when the children were not around. He wanted to hold her hand as they walked the gardens or as they walked to a room. He wanted to dance with her for hours if she would let him, he wanted to take her on dragon back across the Narrow Sea. After the twins were born, Daemon took his family and never looked back.

Pentos welcomed the family with open arms. Daemon and his wife began to ally themselves with those who needed protection and in return they got everything they desired. Selene, remained by his side, for years. There was never a time or place where Daemon was without his wife. Their children grew up with the best comforts and luxuries money could give. They all had dragons, except for Aemond.

Ten long years and Daemon and his wife had yet to stop having children. In Pentos they welcomed a few new members. Just nine moons after their arrival to Pentos they welcomed another set of twins Baela and Rhaena. Daeron and his twin sister Daenerys. Lady Serene was pregnant with her tenth child when the news of Laena's passing reached Pentos. The return of Daemon's family came as a surprise to many but throughout the years Laena and Selene had form a friendship as Laena had married a lord from Pentos and both women had been their for their children's births.

When people heard Caraxes everyone was surprised. They were surprise that Daemon had made an appearance but then, behind were eight dragons, most of them the size of Rhaenyra's dragon. Baelon rode Selene, the dragoness was named after his mother. Aemon rode Balerion who he named after the black dread. Aegon rode Sunfyre, Helaena rode Dreamfyre, Baela rode Moondancer, Rhaena rode Morning, Daeron rode Tessarion and Daenerys rode Meraxes, a dragon she named after queen Rhaenys' dragon. Daemon's wife, lady Selene arrived by boat as she was pregnant to ride with her husband. Aemond had come with his father. All of Daemon's children looked like him, some shared a few similarities with their mother but they were more like Daemon.

As the ceremony began people kept glancing at Daemon's children and princess Rhaenyra's children. The prince's children were the very definition of Old Valyrian blood children while Rhaenyra's children were the definition of the first men blood in their veins. The ceremony felt long but not because it truly was but because of the awkwardness between the Velaryon's and Rhaenyra. Daemon kept to himself and his family. He could feel Viserys watching his every move. His children were consoling Laena's daughter's Jocelyn and Rhaella while his wife was with Rhaenys.

Alicent, her father and Ser Criston watched Selene, she was happy and healthy as far as they could see. They watched as Daemon watched her and their children. He cared for her, Alicent could go as far as to say that he loved her. When Selene turned to look for Daemon she quickly spotted him, she gave him a warn and wide smile one that he returned happily. She went back to speaking to Rhaenys who was glad to have someone who truly cared for her daughter.

Viserys then approached his brother. "Daemon" he greeted him. "Your girls are the very image of their mother" he began. "A comfort and an anguish as I well remember" he said as he looked at his younger brother. Daemon on the other hand had a look on his face that was almost as if he was trying not to laugh at his brother's words. "The gods can be cruel" the king said as he looked at Daemon's wife. "It seems they've been specifically cruel to you" he replied feeling some time of way about how he was speaking and looking at his wife. The king chuckle before mumbling a yes. Daemon's hard gaze on his brother softened.

From where she stood, Selene could see princess Rhaenyra looking at her husband, her gaze towards him was intense. Rhaenys noticed too but said nothing. "You should return with us to King's Landing" the king offered. "It's time that you came home." he added. "Pentos is my home and that of my family" Daemon replied. "Daemon..." the king began. "I know we've had our differences, but let them pass with years. There's a place for you in my court if that's something you should need" the king said but that upset the rogue prince. "I need... nothing" he replied with a stern look before looking down and walking away from him. "Brother.." the king said but that Daemon had already walked away.

Otto Hightower stopped him. "It was time for you to bring my daughter home. Where she belongs" he stated. "She is far better off away from you and your family of leeches" Daemon replied to his good father. "She is a Hightower, my prince. A lady of Old Town" there was a silence. "Her loyalty is with her house, her blood. Do not forget that" he told Daemon before he walked away.

Selene decided to take a walk. She decided to take a walk by the beach, there she saw Daemon with Rhaenyra. She could hear their conversation but truly paid no mind. "You once told me I was the woman for you" she told him. She watched Daemon smirk. "I said this when you were young and I wanted the throne" he replied. An honest replied his wife thought. "Selene is not like you, Rhaenyra. She does not lie, she does not use people for her own benefit. She is kind, good, and loyal. Something that you've always lacked" he replied. "Laenor could not give me the sons I need it and you know that!" she replied. "I know and truthfully I do not care" he said. "You promised you'd stay by my side through it all" she said.

Daemon watched her, she was begging for him. "I will stand by your side when you come to the throne but I cannot do anything that puts my own family in danger" Rhaenyra scoffed. "You are just like my father a fool lovestruck with a Hightower whore" Daemon grabbed Rhaenyra by the neck. "You call her a whore one more time and I swear to the old gods that I will kill you. You are nothing to me! Nothing! Selene is everything to me! You hear me?!" Rhaenyra nodded frantically before he let her go. The two saw Vhagar, Laena's dragon fly by. Selene smiled, she knew, somehow someway her son was on top of Vhagar.

She met her son, by the caves under Driftmark, she was waiting as she watched him get off his new found dragon. Aemond stopped when he saw her standing there, he rushed to hug her. "See? I told you you'd have a dragon one day" she said before she pulled him close to his chest. In that moment, the birth pains began. "Aemond, find your father and tell him the babe is coming!" Aemond nodded and rushed in to look for his father. Selene laid in the sand, leaning all her weight into a rock. She saw a dragon fly in the sky, she thought it was one of her children's dragon, or another dragon from the Velaryons but as the dragon descended on the beach she saw the dragon as clear as day. 

Daemon spoke often of it. Caraxes who was near by rushed to see his riders wife, he felt her near by. Ever since Daemon's and Selene's relationship got closer and better, Selene and Caraxes created their own bond, kind of like a rider but not really. He was there to protect Selene from this Dragon. After Caraxes arrived other two dragons flew by, landing on the sand of Driftmark. Those dragons were Vermithor, Silverwing, and the Cannibal. Selene had no more time to wait as she heard other dragons, her children's own dragons. Lady Selene Hightower gave birth alone to three babes that night as the dragons of her children and husband roared welcoming the babes into the family.

Selene loved to carry scarfs and such with her, after birthing the first babe which was a boy, Vermithor approached the new born child before letting out a roar that made the child stop crying. "Jaehaerys" she said in a whisper before another pain came. After a few more minutes a daughter was born, Silverwing approached her. "Alysanne" she had named her. The last one did not want to come out. She was struggling, the Cannibal began to approach her, it was then that Daemon arrived with Maester's and the whole family behind him. But they all came into a halt when they saw the dragons of the old king and queen near each other and two bundles near his wife.

The cannibal was careful to not hurt the babes or disturb the dragons as he softly nudge her. A few pushes later, a baby girl was born. "Alyssa" she said said. The Cannibal stood there, watching the new born child, her children, born mere minutes ago had bonded with dragons that flew across the Sea to bond with them. Selene gave the dragons a nod and each and every single one flew away. Daemon who did not way another second rushed to her. "Look, Daemon. Three babes!" she said happily. "But, no more children, please" he nodded. "Whatever my beautiful dragon wants" he said as he kissed her. He brought the two babes to her as the children rushed to them. "This is Jaehaerys, and his twin sisters, Alysanne and Alyssa" she said before looking at Daemon who felt the tears forming in his eyes.

The births of the last Targaryen children of Daemon and Selene was known as the rebirth of Dragons. Some said she brought back House Targaryen. She gave birth to twelve Targaryen children. Six boys and six girls. And, all of her children had their own dragon. King Viserys gifted Dragonstone to his brother. Daemon moved his family into his ancestral home, the one he loved so much. Peace was in the family more than it had been before. Jocelyn and Rhaella would often visit their cousins, aunt and uncle as they like to call Dameon and Selene. Princess Rhaenys and lord Corlys visited them too. Rhaneyra had married Ser Harwin after Ser Laenor's "tragic" death. Rhaenyra was losing and she knew it.

Six years later, princess Selene was happy as ever. Prince Baelon was twenty and one. Prince Aemon was twenty, and prince Aemond nine and ten. Aegon and Helaena were seven and ten. Rhaena and Baela five and ten. Daeron and Daenerys were ten and their younger ones were six. Daemon and his wife often took them on dragon rides around the island. Things were fine for the most part until a raven arrived from Rhaenys. Prince Lucerys legitimacy was being question by Ser Vaemond Velaryon his "uncle" therefore the lord thought he should be the next lord of Driftmark if lord Corlys were to pass.

Daemon and his family stood next to king, he was hearing the whole ordeal to of course make it fair but everyone knew he would pick his daughter over anyone else. Daeron, Daenerys, Jaehaerys, Alysanne and Alyssa had stayed back in their chambers since they were too young to be in the court hearing. Vaemond had made a speech about his blood and line and how he would not see it end through bastards. Rhaneys was allowed to speak and it was then that she express the marriage proposals between Jocelyn and Aemond and one between Aegon and Rhaella. (Both twins are seventeen).

Rhaenyra looked at the woman thinking she would side with her. In a sense she had because she knew if she were to expose her things would soon spin out of control. Rhaenyra then spoke. "I propose a match between Jacaerys and princess Helaena, Luke to Baela and Joffrey Rhaena" Daemon looked at his wife, waiting for her permission and she nodded. The crowd had seen it. "We well consider your offer, princess" she replied with a smile. Daemon knew that if his daughter married Jacaerys she would be queen.

Although princess Helaena cared very little for such things he knew that Jacaerys was a good man. That, she was sure of. Baelon was to marry Nymeria Martell, Aemon Lyarra Stark. Daenerys was also bethroth to Qoren Martell, while Daeron to his cousin, lady Ceryse Hightower. The other three children were too young to even consider a match.

After the whole ordeal it was decided that Luke would be the lord of Driftmark. The whispers did not stop there though. It was said that the people believe prince Daemon and his lady wife would be better rulers than princess Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin. After the incident in Driftmark involving lady Selene people took that as a sign that her children were worthy of the crown. Unbeknownst to Selene her father was planning to usurp the throne from Rhaenyra and make his grandson, prince Baelon his heir. Selene was not supposed to find out but after an argument with Alicent the queen let's it slip.

Alicent had invited her to her private chambers. Selene, at her age, thirty and six she was still a beauty.

Alicent could see her, her beauty was radiant and pure. "You were always father's favorite child" Alicent began. Selene shook her head, to her it had never felt like that. "You were. Initially, he had plan for you to go to the King's chambers that day. But, he changed his mind, stating that he would find you something better. And I thought, what is better than a king? I see it now" Selene was of course confuse. "You are the queen, Alicent" she told her sister who scoffed.

Alicent looked at her. "Yes, I am. Yet, I bore the king no sons. No daughters. Nothing" she said back. "You on the other hand gave your husband twelve children. Healthy children that made it to adulthood. Your daughter might marry the future king. Your other children are marrying into good houses. Whilst me, I'm here. Alone. I've been alone after you left I had no one" Selene felt for her sister. Of course, she did. Alicent was her sister, her blood.

"Father never loved me. It may have seen that way to you but to me, he always made me do hard labour. I will not deny that at first my marriage to Daemon was not perfect. We hated each other. We hated what we stood for and what we believed in. I did my duty, I married, I gave my husband children, I was his wife, his servant, his nurse, his maid, his nymph, I lived to attend him, he used to make me do too much labor. I love him, i do. With all my heart. Daemon changed, he showed me how to be free, how to live, how to love. Our children are the light of our lives. And I am sorry that you were not as lucky as me. I wish, I wish you did not have to go through this, sister. I truly do" she said as she tried to hold her sisters hand but she had pulled away.

Alicent looked much older than she was. Way older. "Father has been planning to install Baelon as the new king. He wanted to do it for you" she said. "What?" Selene asked. She could not believe her own ears. "Alicent. What you are saying can be considered treason!" she yelled. "It's the truth. I swear it" Selene did not wait for her sister to say another word as she rushed out of the room in search of her father.

Otto was in his private office when she burst in. "Is it true?" Selene asked. Her face was red, the anger was noticeable. "Is what true, Selene?" Otto asked. "You're planning to take the throne from princess Rhaenyra?" she asked in a low voice. Daemon spied them, his guard told him his wife was seeing seething in anger walking towards her father's office. "Rhaenyra cannot rule after her father" he replied, making Daemon and his wife scoff. "Rhaenyra will be a good queen" she told him. "It won't matter if she's Jaehaerys born again. She's a woman" he replied. "I did not raise my son to take his cousins crown" her father laughed.

He stood and walked over to her. "When you married Daemon you hated him. Now, you love him? Better yet, you think he loves you?" he asked, mocking his daughter. "Daemon loves me. I don't care what you think about our marriage but keep my children out of your schemes. Or I will allow Daemon to kill you. I will not have my family destroy by your ambitions to take the throne that does not belong to us or our family" she said before she began to walk away. She stopped at the door.

"I love Daemon" she began. "I fell in love with him. He gave me the happiness I never thought I would find in our marriage. I have the same happiness you had when mother was alive" she turned to face her father. "I know mother would be disappointed in you. She would have never allowed you to marry Alicent and I off to our husbands" Otto stayed quiet. "So, are you saying you wished you never married Daemon?" Otto asked trying to twist her words. "Daemon was Daemon. I believe that one way or another he and I would've ended up together. We're meant to be. You may not see and you may hate it but I love him. I will always love him and my loyalty will always be with my husband and our family. I'm glad mother is not here to see what kind of man you've turned into" she said before walking away.

In the walk back to her room she didn't know what to do. This scheme had been going on for two decades. For as long as her son had been alive. She didn't find Daemon in their room and she was glad. The wine was set on the table, she had pour herself a cup and drank it quickly. She looked out the window. Her children were down there, the king had enjoy their company, especially the youngest, from Daeron to Alyssa. They loved to hear him tell them stories of old Valyria and from around the world. The older children spoke with their cousins and future betroths. She smiled at the sight. When she saw Baelon her smile dropped. Her son was in possible danger, if word got out of what was happening between the walls of the keep her son could pay for their mistake.

Selene was so engulfed in her own thoughts that she did not hear the door open. Daemon leaned against the door. He watched her watch their children. "My love" she heard him say. She turned to face him. Her face was full of worry and fear. Daemon, although knowing what worried her rushed to hug her. "Are you alright?" he asked and she shook her head no as she pulled him close. "I'm afraid, Daemon" she said in a whisper that he barely even heard. "Of what, love?" Daemon asked. Selene, told him the whole story that he already knew.

He pulled away, grabbing her face, making her look at him. "No harm will come to our children, you hear me? None. I will protect them with my life. Always have, always will" she nodded. "Do you wish for our son to be king?" he asked. "What mother wouldn't?" she replied. "All I want is for my children to be happy and content with what is given to them, with what they have and with what they have earn. I just want them to live a long and happy life" she cried. Baelon, Aemon and Aemond had walked in to their father consoling their mother, the three instantly got worried.

They rushed to their mother. "Mother! Are you alright? Are you hurt? Who has hurt you?" they all asked frantically scared for their mother. Daemon smiled proudly. Him and his lady wife had raised good men. "I am well. Just sad" she replied with a smile. Baelon and his two brothers were the exact copy of their father. It was like having a young Daemon in front of her. Aegon and Helaena shared their traits but Aegon was like his uncle Gwayne while Helaena was more like her aunt Alicent in her youth before marriage. Baela and Rhaena were the vivid image of their mother except for their purple eyes and their two strips of white hair.

Daeron was all his mother from the hair to eyes while his twin was all his father. Jaehaerys, Alysanne and Alyssa all looked like Daemon. Alyssa had one purple eye and one green, sharing the eye color with both of her parents and like her grandmother she had the same eye condition. She looked at her sons. "When I see you guys together, it reminds me to when you were all young, I missed my babies" she said as the tears began to fall once again.

Her children hugged their mother. Despite being men grown, they loved when their mother would sing to them, when she would play the harp, when she would rub their bellies as they laid on her lap while she read or when she would play with their hair. Daemon told their children their situation, they all knew they did not want the crown but soon enough they would realize the crown was meant for them.

It was a rainy night. Prince Daemon's family would be departing back to Dragonstone soon. In the hour of wolf, a Kingsguard arrive at the door of the prince and his wife. The king had called upon them. A important meeting. When they arrived, it was only the king, Harwin and Rhaenyra. No one else from the council was there. Daemon and his wife tensed up instantly. "What is the meaning of this?" Daemon asked as he held his wife close. "This morning, Rhaenyra came to with a petition" the king began. "She wishes to renounce to the throne" the room, was even more silent then it was before they arrived.

Prince Daemon and Selene were confused. Why would she asked that? Rhaenyra replied, as if she had heard their question. "The legitimacy of my sons has been put loudly to question since the day they were born and I am tired of it. I just wish to ride on dragon back and see the wonders across the narrow sea and eat only cake" she replied with a smile. Selene, saw it. Rhaenyra was given a heavy burden since the day she was born. She was married off to Laenor who everyone but her father and his father knew favored men over women. It was a marriage set to fail from the beginning.

So, the princess seek comfort elsewhere. Harwin Strong. "And what does that have to do with us?" Daemon asked. "Well, since I have no other children aside from Rhaenyra, and seeing as Rhaenyra's children do not want the throne either, you Daemon are the next in line to the throne" Selene looked at her husband. Being king was all he ever wanted years ago, but now it was different. "Would you, allow us sometime to think about it?" Selene asked and the king nodded. She grabbed Daemon's arm and began to walk into their room.

"Daemon" she whisper to him as he say by the window. "When I was younger all I ever wanted was to be a great warrior and the best dragon rider. I wanted to be the best of the best. I never wanted the crown as everyone always believed. Viserys was more fit to rule, I was too wild and untamable to rule. I was made for the battlefield not a council meeting" she nodded. "All I ever wanted was for my brother's love and support. He has been king for years and he has never asked me to be his hand but now he wishes for me to be king?" he asked. He knew his brother meant well but, truth be told Daemon was scared. The throne was the most dangerous sit in the realm.

When the morning came, her eldest son, Baelon was called into their chambers and the situation was explained to him. "I will do my duty, father, mother, always" Selene pulled him into a tight hugged one that he returned. "I am so proud of you, my son" he nodded and kissed her hand.

Daemon and Selene returned to the council meeting and gave the king his answer. Days later, prince Daemon and princess Selene became King Daemon Targaryen and his Queen Selene Hightower. They were crowned in a beautiful sunny day, the city seemed fresh and new. It was a new beginning for the Targaryen family and dynasty.

Soon after came the weddings. Baelon, Aemon and Aemond married moons after their parents coronation. Daemon and Selene were having déjà Vu as they saw their sons married dark haired women. Daemon remembered the day he married his dragon. He did not like her but now, nearly twenty two years later they were together, with twelve children and now a crown on their heads. Daemon was in a place he never imagined himself to be. But, he had Selene, his Selene by his side. And as long as she was by his side nothing else could get on the way of his happiness.

King Daemon Targaryen died at the age of ninety and two while his wife, Queen Selene, as she was called even after her son and wife became king and queen died at the age of a hundred and five. She was the longest living queen. She lived twelve years after her husband. She saw a few generations of her blood raise to the throne. She saw hers And daemon's bloodline expand and live on through their children and through her children's children.

She lived a happy life. A long happy life. As she got older she liked to be read to. Her children and later on children, great grandchildren and great great grandchildren and such would read to her. They would visit her and tell her about their day. The queen lived her last days happy and content. Baelon and his son made a statue and a castle in the name of their mother, and another statue of their father. Her great grandson adding one more of both Daemon and Selene. House Targaryen prevailed and continued thanks to Selene Hightower the "Grace and Love of Daemon Targaryen"

#aegon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #game of thrones x reader #house of the dragon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #alicent hightower x reader #rhaenyra targaryen

[readychilledwine]

Lost Bonds pt 3

Summary - After the second war, an unexpected bond with Y/n Archeron, and repairing all he's lost, Tamlin is shocked with news from the very female Rhys has been protecting from him.

Warnings- alcohol use, implied affair,implied smut, sex magic/sex pollen

A/n- Everything will be explained to y/n and wrapped in a mostly pretty bow in Part 4 on Tuesday 💚

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 4

Tamlin sat in silence, nursing hard alcohol as Rhys reappeared before him hours later. “It explains a lot,” Rhysand said softly as he sat. Tamlin pushed the Winter Court Scotch Rhysand's way. “I swear we didn't know, Tamlin.”

“So Feyre admitted it?” Rhys nodded, staring into the bonfire Tamlin had going. “She's not truly happy anymore, Rhys.”

“We know. She hasn't been happy since she watched Cassian and Nesta fall in love and their mating bond grow, then Lucien and Elain, then Amren and Varian, Eris and his wife. Mor and Emerie.” The High Lord threw back a heavy drink. “Then Azriel found his mate. And now she feels like she's an obstacle to his happiness, he feels she's a burden but refuses to let her go. He wants both."

Tamlin hummed, ignoring the flaring anger at the idea of his mate being treated like a second choice, like a burden. “How did she end up in Spring?”

Rhys sighed and looked down. “She wanted to get away from Azriel. They had gotten into a fight while he was training her. She wanted to go somewhere she'd be loved and safe unconditionally.”

Rhys paused, eyes locked on the stars. “It's funny, you know, Feyre painted their dresser drawers to fit their personalities and they've predicted their mates too.” He drank heavily again, eyes watering slightly. “Feyre painted the night sky on hers and became the stars eternal. Nesta's was bathed in flames so red the closest match we could find to recreate the dresser was Cassian's siphons, and we watched that scene during the war with that so called God, silver flames blazing and reflecting the red of my brother's armor. Elain's danced with sunlight and flowers. Her and Lucien the heir of the fucking Day Court,” Tamlin couldn't help the laugh that came with that sentence, nor could Rhys. “They live in Helion's largest garden in a cabin.”

“And y/n?” 

“A raging storm and blooming trees.” 

“And yet you all keep her there. Where she isn't destined by the Mother to be and where she is screaming for freedom.”

“Feyre isn't prepared to forgive nor forget.”

Tamlin rolled his eyes, purposely pushing every moment he had done something to make up for what he had done into Rhysand's mind. “I believe I have more than atoned for my sins against the female that started this all on a lie. The female who ended my curse should have been my mate, Rhys. That's why I fought so hard. Why I protected her even if my methods were ideas from my father and blind trauma. Did you not explain that to her?"

Rhys avoided answering, torn between the part of him that knew Tamlin was correct and the mating bond screaming to protect and defend inside of him. “I'll start sending her to you as an emissary. If the bond snaps on her end, we go from there. And Tamlin,” the High lord took his former friend's chin into his face. “Be grateful. Be grateful you didn't hear y/n's neck snap, that you didn't watch her be tortured for 3 months. That-”

“I watched the woman I loved go through all of that. Then I watched my mate be forced into an ancient world creating pot because i trusted the wrong female,” Tamlin took back the Scotch, drinking enough to burn his throat. “I think we understand each other more than you are willing to believe.”

Rhys nodded, looking away. “Y/n likes her bed made with 3 blankets so she can sleep with the window open at all times. She thinks white flowers are the prettiest. She likes chocolate way too much for a normal person.” 

Rhysand's jaw tightened before he continued. “Do you remember how my sister use to scrunch her nose really hard when she was thinking?” 

Tamlin chuckled softly into his hand, picturing her little face so clearly. “Y/n does the same thing.” It was a quiet confession, one that could have came with an apology, but the two of them has accepted the words “I'm sorry” would never be passed between them many years ago. 

“So you've kept her from me because she reminds you of Stella?” Rhys just nodded before winnowing away. 

Tamlin felt his lip twitch when you first appeared two months later. Rhys was either stupid, or fatherhood had made the male forget to look at a calendar. You were here for a 3 day weekend visit to discuss trade between Spring and the Night Court. 

A 3 day weekend that fell on Calanmai. Tamlin was shaking as he led you to the chambers he had built just for you. Chambers his Lady would reside in when or if they were choosing to sleep in separate beds. 

He realized he would have to keep you in the manor tonight, but excluding a guest from a court's most important holiday was considered a major offense. He thought about calling for Rhys, calling to remind him what today was, but he knew, at least he thought he did, that you would stay inside. It had worked with Feyre, after all. He had stopped searching for her when she wasn't easy to get to. Surely it would be the same for you. The magic would switch and call to another. He'd be able to ignore the scent of lilac, gooseberry, and fresh parchment.

He pushed open the door and watched your face with a deep breath held in his chest. “Tamlin, this room is too nice. This is clearly meant for someone with high standing. It's across from yours, I can't-”

“These are guest quarters for a high-ranking guest,” the lie came so smoothly. “You are a high-ranking guest. Get settled. I'll have a handmaid come get you for tea.” He shut the door behind you, going back to preparations and letting the kitchen know he needed tea made. 

Your guest room was fit for a queen, not a guest. A large walk-in closet sat willed with dresses, an island in the middle with drawers for jewelry. A standing mirror with ornate patterns of florals and vines sat unused, untouched. The bed was massive, possibly larger than the one you shared with Azriel, and it had soft satin sage green sheets, a fur throwing blanket lining the foot. 4 posts came off the bed, a light cream colored fabric and curtains creating a canopy and optional privacy. A vanity sat, empty and waiting for its lady to fill it with oils and lotions. 

He had clearly put you in a Lady's quarters. A safe place for her to be away from her husband. Something you had asked Azriel for since his bond with Gwyn snapped, and you two had begun drifting apart. Something he continued to deny you as tensions grew between you two.

You entered the door opposite of the closet and felt your heart begin to dance. The bathroom was stunning. White and grey marbled floors, a sunk in tub large enough for two, accents of that same soft green and gold. It was what the tub overlooked that made your heart truly flutter, though. It overlooked a garden and the forest. Elain would have killed for this view, but instead, you sat on the ground, crossing your legs, and you took it all into yourself. Hogging the moment and soaking in it.

Nightfall came quickly, and Tamlin had warned you of what would come. You had made the choice to stay inside even though a pang of jealousy reared its ugly head.

You had no claim to him. No ownership over his body, his choices. It didn't change the emotion, though, as you laid your hands over the edge of that tub and watched fire make shadows dance across the leaves. 

He had warned you that you may feel tugging, a pull urging you to come outside. He had asked that you ignore it, and Cauldron, you were trying. You were ignoring that growing warmth in your stomach, the haze setting into your mind. You tried to focus on thoughts of the fight you and Azriel would finish when you got home. Of the way you would crawl into a separate bed from your husband as soon as he fell asleep, still smelling like Gwyn. You tried to focus your thoughts on your marriage and how it was slowly crumbling below you after his actions. 

But those tugs were growing stronger, aching in your chest with desire and need. You jumped as the door to your room slammed open, and Tamlin growled. He seemed more beast than fae, mind lost in whatever this ritual had done to him. “Tamlin?”

Your voice shook him enough as he kneeled down in front if you, broad chest exposed and covered in swirling paint. “Y/n,” his voice was strained as he struggled to keep his eyes on your face. “Should have sent you back.” He was grounding out each syllable. “Fucking Rhysand.” 

You felt it again, a harsh tug on your chest before warmth and dedication flowed into your body. You gasped at how close it felt and his eyes grew wide. “You can feel it?”

“Feel what? That tug?”

He nodded almost desperate as he lifted you out of the water and searched for something. He came back with your robe, wrapping you in it before trying to lead you somewhere. “Tamlin, where are we going?”

“The Cave.” His voice wasn't his own, but another tug came. That ancient echo spoke again, making you shiver.. “I won't allow this vessel to settle for less than his mate.” 

His mate. You almost froze, making whatever held Tamlin's body stop and throw you over his shoulder. “Close your eyes, and feel,” it commanded as it walked you out the front door. 

The cave was filled with the sounds of sex, the scent of magic, arousal, sweat. Tamlin laid you on a bed at the center of it, eyes blown with lust. You felt it then, that string binding your souls, holding you together like missing pieces to a puzzle. He was himself again now, looking down at you with hesitation. “I will let you go if you ask, little rose.”

Your body was humming, mind lost as your eyes began to water staring into his. “It's just mindless sex,” you repeated words you'd heard since Azriel's bond snapped. “It means nothing to you.”

Tamlin's brow knit, those green eyes aching with sorrow for you. “It means everything. You mean everything to me," and he crashed his lips down onto yours.

General Taglist:

Lost Bonds Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish

@impossibelle @fxckmiup @applerubyy @awkardnerd @sleepylunarwolf @macimads @esposadomd @stormhearty

#acotar #acotar x reader #tamlin #tamlin x reader #tamlin x y/n #tamlin x you #tamlin acotar

[utterlyotterlyx]

4 and/or 25 with Eris, please!

Lost In The Fire

Eris x Fem!Reader

Warnings - mentions of arranged marriage, suggestive comments, lots of fluff

(not spell checked sorry x)

What if you - If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you. Don't leave me here alone.

Balls had never been, nor ever would be, your thing.

The opulence that came with them was sickening, a waste of precious resources that could be put toward something more beneficial. The gold on display, the mountains of food that hardly anyone would touch that sat as a putrid reminder of power and wealth, and the stench of ale made your stomach churn with distaste.

You would forever curse your brother, Thesan, for giving you over to the Autumn Court, you understood that you had a duty to fulfil, and since you were the sister of one of the more liberal courts, with unmatched spiritual abilities, it meant that you were a high prize indeed.

You had long lost your usual clothing, red and gold loose fitting robes that still had the power to accentuate every feature you held lay dormant in your wardrobe and had been swapped out for tighter fitting garments in an arrangement of greens and browns and oranges. By order of Lady Autumn, of course.

There would be a day when her title would belong to you, and you always had to look the part.

It was a part you played well.

Marriage to Eris, the Heir of the Autumn Court, wasn't nearly as bad as you had expected it to be. It was lucky that your talents in spirituality were so advanced, and you were also lucky that his knowledge of your gifts was so little when you had first met.

Despite his cold exterior, you saw a small boy within him wanting more than anything to break free from the chains that bound him to his position. It was his only defence against his father. But, he knew that you could see through it, see through him in a way that no one else could and part of him was relieved to finally have someone who could understand him.

Things were still rocky, you struggled with their way of life, something Beron despised and spoke of frequently, saying he did not want you leading his court if you couldn't bend your morals and do what was needed. If turning your back on the people who needed you was too stiff, then you didn't want to be leading his court anyway.

But everything with Eris was good, more than good actually, you had actually come to care for him beyond the requirements of your marriage. Eris had moved your rooms opposite his own to have you closer to him, to have you speak him into newfound calm when his duties became too much; to have you closer to him so that he could soothe your clairvoyant episodes that pounced on you from nowhere.

It was meant to be a marriage of convenience, a marriage to forge new power and bonds and produce a litter of children who possessed both of your abilities. A new path for Autumn, a stronger path.

The clouds darkened on the horizon, the moon poked through their curls and illuminated them with a faint pale blue glow. Lanterns lined the garden paths below your window, Eris had made sure to give you the room with the best view, and you watched idly as high born nobles and invited guests to the nights festivities strolled down the cobbled stone paths arm in arm, pointing at the array of intricately carved white marble statues and fountains littered across the lawns, scattered between the hedges and lush flowerbeds.

Ladies swarmed you, tugging at your limbs and shimmying skirts up your legs before huffing and ripping them down again, tapping your calves to tell you to lift your feet so that they could try the next one. Lady Autumn ordered that racks upon racks of opulent dresses be wheeled into your chambers, it was important that you look your best in front of all of the nobles attending that evening, from Autumn and those from other courts.

Even Beron knew how powerful your opinion was to others, not like he would ever listen to it himself. You had been the one to accompany your brother to the High Lords meeting to find a path forward against Hybern. It was your grace and elegance that kept the meeting from boiling over since you were able to feel the emotions of others and force them to simmer down before they consumed the room. It was you who had been able to tell them all of Hyberns movements which no doubt gave them the edge they needed. It was you who saved dozens upon dozens of soldiers from all courts.

You had been the one to help Feyre with the complications with her pregnancy, you had been there for the birth of her son and had given a kernel of your own gift to keep her alive; it made you a very trusted ally to the Night Court, a friend. Helion wrote to you often asking for you opinions on research and inventions, even went as far as to ask for your input on some new policies he wanted to introduce to Day.

It was stupid to suggest that you wouldn't be the perfect High Lady.

Diplomatic. Gifted. Elegant. Poised.

And Eris adored every part of you that you decided to show him, he basked in it actually.

You weren't really paying attention as the ladies around you tugged at your hair and pulled another dress up your body, fitting it tightly around your breasts and hips before standing back and humming in approval. Then you looked.

An assortment of shimmering golds, burnt oranges and flecks of silver, all weaving between one another like the summer tides. It was sheer, enough to be endearing and elegant but not enough to appear indecent. There was a cut out half sphere below your breasts and the bodice flared upward like streaks of sunshine at the crack of dawn. Even you had to admit that it was a stunning piece indeed. Like a stained glass window glowing with dawns kiss.

"This is the one," your fingers brushed around your hips with a faint smile, your hair was unbound and simple, a perfect compliment to the other-worldly dress you adorned, and your makeup was a picture of dewy perfection, shimmers along your cheekbones and forehead, arched brows, glossed lip. "Thank you," you had dismissed the flock of women as soon as they strapped your shoes to your feet, taking a moment for yourself before you slipped from the room.

The quietness of the hallway was enough to tell you that Eris would already be in the ballroom, no doubt sassily quipping the other High Lords and Ladies with cold eyes and a stiff spine. An act that would melt under your presence.

You weren't wrong.

As soon as you had entered the room, it was encapsulated by you. Feyre and Mor rushed to greet you, stroking your hair and running their hands down your skirts, begging for you to tell them where had gotten it. Cassian bundled you into a boisterous embrace which earnt him a curt jab from Nesta for the inappropriateness, Azriel kissed your knuckles as did Rhys, and Helion kissed your cheek in greeting, muttering to you how beautiful you looked in a hushed tone.

No reaction compared to that of Eris however as he remained glued to his seat with lips agape as his russet orbs scoured your figure, the mere action of his eyes on you making heat rise to your cheeks.

Tables lined the room with benches on either side, all packed with goblets of wine and mugs of ale, platters of food scattered at intricately measured intervals. Only Beron and Lady Autumn sat at the head of the hall, the latter of which examined you with approval.

Everyone had floated about you, stealing your attention from the one you desired to give it to. From Rhys asking you, jokingly, to revolt against Autumn and find sanctuary in Velaris, to Thesan pulling you to the side to inquire if you were being treated well. Helion had updated you on the policies you had so gracefully aided him in implementing, and you found a moment to catch up with Kallias and Viviane.

Then you made your way over to Eris who was wrapped up in a conversation with Lucien and Elain, whose gaze jolted from cold to warm in a split second when he saw your dress glistening in the corner of his eye, "Hello, Embers," his voice was as smooth as freshly cracked open whisky as he prodded you with the nickname he had given you, he thought you glowed, not brightly, but like embers on a dying fire, low and warm.

Eris was extremely proud to call you his wife, not only were you clearly beautiful, but you had a heart of molten gold, people sought you out for comfort and aid, you were graceful and poised, and could change the world with your bare hands if you wished it. It was what he needed, a chance of a real future with the woman he was falling in love with.

He couldn't blame you for your feelings toward him, you didn't exactly have a choice in the marriage but you had tried to make the most of it, and you had let him in and spent more time with him away from the duties required of you. Eris thought that you had finally started to feel a certain way toward him as well, from the faint shine in your eyes when you looked at him to the real laughter that sliced through the fogged atmosphere when he quipped something to you. You made him melt, you made him be who he always wanted to be.

"Hello," your voice was as soft as drizzled honey and your hair fell over your shoulders as you leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek, a necessary act to display your strength as a couple.

Eris felt your eyes trail down his chest and arms, the open collared cream shirt and chestnut brown jacket and pants; he had styled his hair the way you loved it, tamed but still with a playfulness to it, tousled slightly as if he had been stood on the balcony in the wind for a few moments. "Do you like it?" Eris motioned to his suit with that gleam in his eye that made your knees weak, it was certainly a good thing that he wasn't an empath like you, otherwise he'd know his effect on you and no doubt tease you for it.

Just because Eris couldn't feel your emotion doesn't mean that someone else couldn't read you like a book.

You're blushing, a voice infiltrated your mind and you did well to keep a stoic face against Rhys' shit-eating smirk he was no doubt wearing from his seat across the bench from your husband, with his arm loosely wrapped around Feyre's waist, sipping from his goblet with a teasing glint in his eye. Someone might say you might actually feel something for the man.

Ignoring the voice in your head, you spoke, "I love it, we're basically matching."

You'll definitely be matching when both of your clothes are on the floor tonight.

Go fuck yourself, Rhys.

I don't need to. Not when I have my lovely mate.

The walls in your mind flew up then, trapping his talons against the roof of your consciousness with such force that the High Lord visibly winced and rubbed his temple tenderly.

"You look angelic," Eris stood before you, taking your hand in his and pressing his lips against the back of your hand, dipping low and peering at you through his lashes, making no effort to mask the desire in his emotions.

"Thank you," it came out as a whisper and he placed your hand back to your side, sitting down again beside his brother, allowing you to glance along the table which housed not only Eris and Lucien, but also Elain, Rhys, Feyre, Nesta, Cassian, Azriel, Helion, and your brother, meaning there was no space for you, "I suppose I'll go and sit with Kallias and Viviane," you picked up your skirts to turn away when Eris' hand shot out and secured around your wrist.

Eris' eyes glowed in the candlelight, you could see the flames flickering in his russet orbs that had you in a constant chokehold, "What if you-"

"If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you," Azriel choked on his wine and coughed as Rhys and Cassian howled in laughter, even Eris chuckled and ran a hand through his hair at your words, standing to tower over you and cup your face in his hand.

"Perhaps later," he smirked and you visibly blushed at the words, even Eris couldn't miss it and he stroked a thumb over your rosed cheek.

In defence, you quipped, "Maybe I'll go back to my chambers then," the words flew from your mouth and you only realised how they sounded when Eris' focus darkened, the tension between you both was palpable to the point that even Azriel let out a whoosh of air he didn't realise he was holding in his lungs.

"So tempting," he took a step closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and speaking a low, rough tone, "Don't leave me here alone, you know I don't do well without you."

"Fine," you strained and he grinned victoriously before ordering his brother and Elain to scooch down slightly to make room for you, and you slotted beside Eris like the final piece to his puzzle, thanking him for the goblet of wine you had taken from his offering fingers and looking upward at Rhys and Feyre who both sent you a knowing glance.

Knocking on the doors of your mind, you allowed Rhys to slip in, doing your best to stay distracted against Eris' hand on your hip that sent fire coursing through your veins and heat pooling between your thighs.

I've never known him to be like this, you know.

Like what?

Rhys' eyes flickered to Eris in examination before finding you again whilst Feyre kept the heir ignorant to the conversation between you and her mate.

Soft. Caring. He loves you, Y/N.

Well, it's a good thing I love him too then.

Rhys smirked, raising his goblet to you to which you clinked against your own, sipping the spiced wine and smiling with happiness at his words.

Eris sighed and turned to you, placing a kiss to your cheek, allowing his lips to graze against your cheekbones and his breath to fan down your neck. The rest of the room had moved on, wrapped up in one another, wrapped up in the ale and music, leaving you and Eris alone and untouchable in your little bubble. His eyes scanned you, sketching every part of you onto the canvas within his mind, "Your presence has impacted me so deeply that I'm convinced that if we never met then something would feel missing," he rested his forehead against your own and his hand gripped your waist as his gaze bore into you, "Don't leave me alone, don't ever leave me," a breathless plea that stole your heart.

"I will never leave you, Eris. I will be here to watch all of your dreams come true, I promise."

Flames danced in his eyes and he became unbothered by who could be watching, "They already are," his finger stroked a line up the curve of your throat as he lifted your chin up, wasting no time in pressing his lips to yours in something you could only call ethereal, so tender but passionate that you felt your heart burst with golden light in your chest.

Eris smirked against your lips, a knowing thing, like he knew exactly what had just happened, pulling away, you gasped as your hand ghosted over the fabric of your heart, "You knew?"

"From the moment we met at that meeting in Dawn," his nose brushed against yours, "You were too busy helping Thesan and keeping Tamlin under control to notice, but I saw you, and I knew I needed you."

"You never said anything."

"How could I?" Eris pressed a kiss to your nose, "You had to fall for me on your own, I couldn't influence that."

You inhaled his scent, of crackling firewood and spiced oranges and sighed, you curled your fingers around the lapels of his jacket and kissed him again, more forcefully, and luckily for you both, the room hadn't noticed your infatuation due to Cassian's well played distraction to give you both a moment, one that you needed.

"I need to get you out of here before I take you on this table," his voice possessively growled and it made you shudder in intense delight.

Rhys watched from across the way as Eris took your hand in his own and pulled you from the room, smiling at the large grin on your face and the faint giggles passing through your lips as he saw the silhouette of Eris flinging you over his shoulder cascaded in shadow onto the white stone floor.

If anyone deserved true happiness, a life of wonder and love, it was you, and it was something Rhys believed Eris was now fully capable of providing for you.

Author's Note

Back from Paris in love with the idea of love so expect lots of fluff coming your way x

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #rhysand #cassian #mor acotar #eris vanserra fluff #eris fluff #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #acotar azriel #azriel acotar #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #nesta #nesta archeron #acotar oneshot #acotar fluff #high lord helion #helion acotar #high lords #eris imagine

[lixzey]

to the moon and back

Once upon a time, there was a wizarding family that was powerful and mighty. Nicholas Selwyn was the last of their family, and he and his wife Calliope had yet to have a child—an heir to continue the Selwyn name.

Then a miracle happened: Calliope had finally borne a child. A child born of the Selwyn and Rosier bloodline, the heir for whom they have waited so long. On the summer solstice of 1962, a daughter was born. And she was given the name Y/N, a fitting name for a princess. Families from the Sacred Twenty-Eight came from all around to offer gifts and praise for the little girl.

Among those families were the Blacks. Walburga and Orion Black had two sons. An almost two-year-old Sirius clung to his father's leg, hiding from everyone else. While the almost-one-year-old Regulus was sitting comfortably in his mother's arms. 

“Oh, Calliope, you are glowing!” Walburga Black praised the new mother, balancing her son on her hip. Walburga peered over the little girl that was bundled in a pink swaddle in Calliope's arms. “She's a darling!” 

“Yes, she is.” Calliope agreed with a wide grin. “The sweetest angel I've ever seen.”

Calliope looked up at the tiny hand that was a few inches away from her daughter's face. Six-month-old Regulus had his tiny hand over the newborn's face, seemingly admiring her.

“It looks like Regulus likes Y/N.” Walburga laughed, beaming at her son. Suddenly, Regulus' smacked Y/N square in the face.

“Regulus Arcturus Black, you do not hit women!” Walburga scolded the boy in her arms, who had no idea what was happening. Meanwhile, the little baby in Calliope's arms was screaming her head off, her face red as her cries echoed in the banquet hall.

Calliope soothed her daughter, an amused smile on her lips as she glanced at the little boy who had just hit her child.

"Oh, hush, Walburga. The boy doesn't know any better; he's just a boy.” Calliope chuckled. “I think he just really likes my daughter.”

“Regulus has great taste, then.”

“Maybe one day they'll fall in love.” Calliope mused, a twinkle in her eye as she looked at the little boy who had his eyes locked on her sleeping daughter. Walburga laughed, shaking her head. “We'll see.”

June 21st, 1968

Selwyn Manor was filled with colourful decorations, bright pink and lavender ribbons, and balloons lining the parlour and hallway. There were beautiful floral arrangements in tall vases, and even pink and purple flowers have been planted in the garden outside.

It was Y/N's sixth birthday, and she was beyond excited. Her mother and father opted not to throw another lavish party, but the house elves insisted on decorating the manor according to their young mistress' desires. Calliope and Nicholas proposed that instead of a party, they would take her on a summer trip to France as a gift for their daughter's birthday.

“Mummy, how do I look?” Y/N asked, twirling around as she modelled the dress in front of her mother. She was wearing a frilly lavender-coloured dress made by Miffy—their house elf—that doted on Y/N far too much.

Calliope beamed proudly at her daughter. “You look enchanting, mon ange.”

The little girl furrowed her eyebrows. “Mon ange? What does that mean, mummy?” 

Her mother chuckled. “It means 'my angel' in French, my love. This summer, I'll be teaching you French, alright?” 

Y/N nodded eagerly, nearly jumping with excitement at the mention of learning another language. “When are we going? When, when?” 

“We'll just wait for your father to finish up at the ministry, my love. After that, we'll go ahead.”

“Okay, okay. Can I go to the garden now, Mummy? I want to play with Miffy.”

Calliope laughed. “Alright, alright. Just don't get messy, okay?”

Y/N nodded before darting out of the room, the little house elf hot on her heels. Calliope shook her head at her daughter amusedly. Her little girl is going to get along quite nicely with the youngest Black son.

“Both of you shall be on your best behaviour for the whole summer in France; do you understand me?” Walburga reminded her sons, her gaze narrowing at her eldest. “Do you understand me?” 

Sirius tried his best not to roll his eyes at his mother, but he failed miserably. “You've told us that at least ten times this week, Mother.”

Walburga glared at her eldest, letting out an annoyed sigh before turning to her youngest with a smile. “Do you understand, Regulus?” 

The boy nodded, not wanting to get on his mother's bad side, like Sirius always did.

Walburga beamed at her youngest son, patting him on the cheek. “We are to leave eave at six in the evening, after your father gets done with business. You two better be ready to leave before five.” She turned to her eldest, snarling at him before turning and walking away from the young boys.

“Reggie, wanna go play in the garden?” Sirius asked as soon as their mother was out of earshot, a mischievous grin on his face. Sirius was often the troublemaker between the two, always rebelling against their mother's rules. Sirius despised their parents' belief in blood supremacy. It was a load of dung, according to Sirius, who loved watching muggle children play out in the streets in Grimmauld Place.

“But mother said to behave, Sirius.” Regulus hissed at his brother. Regulus hated it when Sirius got in trouble with their mother, usually persuading Sirius to go along with their mother's wishes in order to keep him from getting punished, but his brother was one stubborn git.

“Come on, Reggie,” Sirius urged, wiggling his eyebrows. “It'll be fun! We can pretend to have wands and duel.”

Regulus rolled his eyes at his brother. “If Mother-” 

“You're goody-goody with the elf; ask him to zip his mouth.”

Regulus scowled. “That elf has a name, you know.”

Sirius waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. So, are you coming or not?” Regulus sighed before giving in and following his older brother outside. As soon as the two boys got outside, Sirius looked around in search of a branch they could use as make-believe wands.

“Aha! Here you go, baby brother, a wand.” Sirius grinned, passing a thin branch to him. Regulus eyed the branch in his hand. “Do all wands look like this?” He asked, his nose scrunching in disgust.

“I dunno, s'pose so,” Sirius shrugged. “Bella's wand looks like a wonky twig, though.” Regulus cringed at the mention of their eldest cousin.

“I don't like Bellatrix.” Regulus muttered.

Sirius chuckled. “Who doesn't? Bella's a bit...mad. Glad we're not spending summer with them this year.”

Regulus smiled at the thought of spending the summer away from London. It was going to be their first time in France, and both boys were ecstatic. They have heard so much about the Black estate in France from their uncle Alphard, who spent all of his summers along with his siblings in the estate. Sirius and Regulus could not believe that their mother was once a happy child, much to Alphard's amusement.

“You think Mother and Father will leave us alone in France?” Regulus asked, fiddling with the stick in his hands.

“They do it every day, Reg.” Sirius rolled his eyes at his younger brother. Walburga Black was not the maternal kind; she had no patience for things related to child care. She decidedly left it all to the house-elves to care for her sons.

“Right,” Regulus cleared his throat, “so are we duelling or not?” 

Sirius gripped his wand and waved it around. “Prepare to duel!” He grinned mischievously, aiming the faux wand at his brother. “Jelly legs!” 

Regulus pretended his legs had turned to jelly and stumbled around clumsily. Making Sirius burst out into laughter. Regulus quickly turned and pointed his wand at his brother. “Tickles!”

Sirius twitched his nose and looked around himself, pretending that he could feel the invisible tickles. He aimed his stick at his brother again. “Eat slugs!” 

Regulus fell to his knees, pretending to vomit on the ground with a smirk. The garden was filled with giggles from the two boys as they duelled each other.

“That was fun!” Regulus laughed, trailing behind his brother as they carefully walked back inside the house.

Sirius turned to look at his brother and grinned triumphantly. “Told you.”

“You two look filthy!” Sirius and Regulus turned around, only to see their mother glowering at them.

“What did I tell you?” Walburga seethed at her sons. Regulus hid behind Sirius, who stood defiantly in front of his mother. “We just went out to the garden, Mother.”

“Kreacher! ” Sirius and Regulus flinched as their mother's shrill voice echoed through the house.

There was a loud popping sound, and the elf appeared next to their mother. “Mistress be wanting Kreacher?”

“Take the boys and make them look presentable. After that, pack their trunks for the summer.” Walburga ordered the elf before yanking Sirius by the arm and pushing him to Kreacher. Regulus whimpered, shifting under his mother's gaze, before walking to his brother's side.

“Keep them in line, Kreacher. We leave at six sharp.”

The elf bowed. “Yes Mistress. All shall be done, oh yes, shall be done.”

“Oh, for Merlin's sake! Hurry up!” Walburga screamed for her children. It was already five forty-five in the evening, fifteen minutes before the Blacks had to leave. She turned to her husband with an annoyed look. “Go get your children.”

Orion let out a loud sigh before turning to walk up the stairs to the boys' room. “Bloody woman, treating me like a dog.” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that!?” 

“Nothing, nothing.” Orion quickly ran up, evading his wife's anger.

“Boys, what's taking so long-” Orion opened the door to his sons' room, expecting them to be slacking, only to see Sirius fixing his brother's hair.

“There you go, Reggie!” Sirius declared proudly, handing his little brother a mirror. “You look good, if I do say so myself.”

Regulus took the mirror and looked at himself. His curls were slightly slicked back, with a few tendrils hanging loose and framing his face perfectly. Regulus grinned, passing back the mirror to his brother. “You should do my hair often, Sirius.”

Orion smiled at the sight of his sons. He never had that kind of bond with his own brother. He opened the door and stepped inside, the smile gone from his lips.

Orion cleared his throat, making both boys jump. “Boys, come on. Your mother's waiting downstairs, and you know she's not fond of waiting.”

“Yes, father.” Sirius turned to Regulus, taking his hand in his. “Come on, Reg, summer awaits!” All three of the Black men descended down the stairs. Walburga scowled at the sight of her oldest son's hair.

“I said to look presentable, Sirius.”

Sirius smirked, running a hand through his black mane. “I am presentable, Mother."

“You little-” Walburga raised her hand to strike her son when her husband cut her off.

“Just get in the fireplace, Sirius, Regulus,” Orion sighed, shaking his head. When they didn't move, he lightly pushed his eldest. “Now!”

Both boys scrambled to the dusty old fireplace, Regulus gripping the ends of his brother's robes. Sirius had a grin plastered on his lips, provoking his mother further.

“Get a handful of floo powder, Sirius,” Orion ordered. Sirius turned to the pot of black powder on the side of the wall, taking a handful of it in his small hands.

“Now you must say this clearly; otherwise, you and your brother would get transported to the wrong place. Black Manor, Dinard, loud and clear, Sirius.” The seven-year-old boy nodded, clearing his throat before loudly speaking.

“Black Manor, Dinard!”

Green flames engulfed the two brothers as they were transported into a beautiful sitting room. The smell of wood and spice immediately invaded their nostrils as soon as the two boys stepped out of the fireplace. Sirius and Regulus were awestrucked. The manor in France was far better than Grimmauld Place.

It was a sight to behold. It had a grandiose feeling, as if it had been lifted straight from the pages of an old French novel.

The walls of the elegant room were a deep forest green, the shade of which had been carefully matched to the hue of the lush gardens outside. In the centre of the room was the focal point, a large emerald green velvet sofa that seemed to invite anyone to sink into its depths. On either side of the sofa were two matching armchairs, upholstered in the same emerald velvet. The cushioning was studded with silver buttons that shone when the sunlight hit them, and the legs were carved from dazzling marble. Behind the sofa, the walls were lined with large, dark wood bookcases and cabinets filled with fine silver trinkets and antique books. An old-style grandfather clock was tucked away in the corner, counting down the minutes with its sombre ticking. Rich tapestries hung from the walls, and Persian rugs covered the floor.

For illumination, several grand candelabras rested on the tables and were held aloft by marble pillars, which were intricately carved with rococo details. Each candelabra was adorned with five burning white candles that cast a soft, golden glow over the room.

A grand piano sat in the corner by the arched window, while a gleaming bronze chandelier hung above it. There were gilded mirrors on the walls with silver frames that gave the room an extra sparkle. There were huge windows around the room, with rich green velvet curtains in a silver pattern parted in the middle to let light in.

A place of true elegance and sophistication. It was as if every detail was chosen with care, from the luxurious green and silver brocade that draped the walls to the gleaming marble floors and the grand mahogany-framed clock overlooking the room.

The flames roared again, revealing their parents. Walburga stepped out and immediately screamed for a house elf.

With a loud pop, a small elf appeared. It looked better than what Kreacher looked like. The elf wore a tea towel around its waist and a huge green ribbon atop its head.

“Mistress be needing Dilly?”

Walburga turned to her sons. “These are my sons, your young masters. They will be spending the whole summer here. I trust that my sons will be taken care of.”

“Dilly will take very good care of her young Masters; yes, she will. Only the best for the heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”

Walburga nodded curtly before turning her attention to her sons. “You both shall be on your best behaviour for the whole of summer. Do you understand? If word gets out to me that you two show anything less of what I have taught you, there will be consequences.”

Regulus visibly gulped, shifting under his mother's gaze. “Yes, mother.” 

Sirius looked unaffected by their mother's gaze. “Yeah, yeah, behave and all that.”

Suddenly, the fireplaces erupted into green flames once more. Out stepped a little girl with long (y/h/c) hair tied in pigtails and bright (y/e/c) eyes dressed in a frilly lavender-coloured dress. She was clutching a white-stuffed bunny in her arms as she looked around.

“Greetings, little one.” Orion greeted the little girl, who gave him a small, shy smile. Y/N fiddled with her hair as she stood by the fireplace, waiting for her parents. A little while later, the flames erupted again, revealing Nicholas and Calliope Selwyn. Y/N quickly hid behind her mother, clutching the skirt of her robes.

“Walburga, Orion, it's been so long,” Calliope greeted, taking a step closer to the Black matriarch, leaning in for a hug.

Y/N eyed the older woman curiously. She had aristocratic features, high cheekbones, and full lips, making her look regal and elegant as she stood. The little girl tugged on her mother's skirt. “Mummy!” she whispered fiercely, tugging on her mother's skirt harder. Calliope pulled away from the raven-haired witch with a chuckle as she looked down at her daughter.

Regulus looked at Y/N with an unamused look, scrunching his nose in annoyance. “She looks like a spoiled brat.” he whispered to Sirius, who nodded in agreement.

Walburga smiled down at the little girl, which shocked Sirius and Regulus. “You must be Y/N.” 

Y/N raised an eyebrow at the older woman. She looks scary, Y/N thought before promptly hiding behind her mother's back.

Walburga chuckled. “She's a bit shy, I see.”

Calliope laughed. “Oh no, my daughter is anything but shy.” Her gaze then fell onto the two boys huddled in the corner.

“Sirius, Regulus, come forward and introduce yourselves,” Orion instructed. Both boys stepped forward, standing tall and proud.

“Sirius Orion Black, the third at your service.” Sirius grinned proudly before bowing, his long hair falling over his face.

Calliope laughed at the young boy's enthusiasm. “You've gotten bigger since the last time I've seen you, young Sirius.”

“My name's Regulus, Regulus Arcturus Black.” Regulus smirked proudly, bowing like his brother.

“My, my, such well-mannered boys.” Calliope praised.

Walburga beamed proudly. “I taught them well.”

Sirius snorted, making Regulus chuckle. Their mother did not teach them anything because she threatened them if they did not comply with all her rules.

"Y/N, darling, introduce yourself to Mr. and Mrs. Black, my love."

“No.” Y/N huffed behind her mother.

“Come on, darling. Introduce yourself; tell them how you love dressing up.” Nicholas chuckled, nudging his daughter from behind his wife. Y/N reluctantly stepped out, a scowl etched on her lips. “Y/N Artemis Rosier Selwyn.” She introduced herself with a curtsy.

“Sirius, Regulus, go ahead and kiss Y/N's hand like a true gentleman.” Walburga urged, pushing Sirius slightly.

Sirius grinned mischievously as he took Y/N's hand and softly placed a kiss on her knuckles. “I am pleased to meet you, my fair maiden.”

“Likewise.” Y/N gave him a small smile.

Regulus rolled his eyes at Y/N. She looked like a girly girl. And he hated those kinds of girls. His cousins Narcissa and Andromeda were like that, and it wasn't fun. The two older girls would always drag him and his brother into whatever they pleased. And it annoyed Regulus more than it annoyed Sirius.

“Go on, Regulus,” Walburga urged her youngest son, who scowled.

“Hello, Y/N. I'm very pleased to meet you,” Regulus said, his tone annoyed.

“Pleased to meet you, Regulus.” Y/N curtsied. Regulus walked back to Sirius, only to be stopped by his mother. “Ah, ah, ah!” She urged her son, pushing him to kiss Y/N's hand.

Y/N raised an eyebrow as Regulus' face contorted in disgust. He looks conceited, and Y/N wanted to punch him in the face just because of it. Regulus reluctantly took her hand, scrunching his nose in disgust before kissing her hand as quickly as he could.

“So happy you could come.” Regulus sneered.

“So happy to be here.” Y/N said with a sickening sweet voice, rolling her eyes at the boy. 

“She's a darling, Calliope. Such a fine young lady!” Walburga complimented the little girl with a smile.

“Yes, she is.” Calliope chuckled, beaming at her daughter.

“But don't let that innocent face fool you. She has the famous Rosier temper.” Nicholas laughed.

“Ah yes, the famous Rosier temper.” Orion agreed. “I do believe we all know what that temper is capable of.”

“Ah, so you've been a victim of it?” Calliope asked with a smirk.

“Cygnus' wife, Druella.” Orion laughed. “Let's just say that I couldn't utter a word for a week.”

All the adults burst out laughing, leaving the children confused. Regulus perked up at the mention of his aunt Druella, whom he liked the most because she gave him the most sweets.

“I remember that! Drue was absolutely furious that you called her fat once when she was pregnant with her first.” Walburga snorted, almost forgetting about her manners.

“Mummy, can I go play?” Y/N asked, interrupting the adults' laughter.

Calliope looked down at her daughter. “Why don't you ask Mrs. Black, mon ange?” 

Y/N scowled, much to her father's amusement. She then reluctantly turned to Walburga, with a pleading look in her big, bright eyes—a look her father knew so well.

“Can I please go and play, Mrs. Black?” Y/N asked, her voice sweet and innocent.

Walburga chuckled. “Yes, my dear. After all, the manor will be your home for the summer. Go ahead and play in the garden with Sirius and Regulus while your parents and I catch up.”

“Thank you!” Y/N grinned before running out to the garden.

Sirius chuckled while Regulus groaned. “What a total bummer.” He couldn't believe he was going to be stuck with her all summer long. Regulus was sure she didn't like anything that he and Sirius liked to do, like quidditch or playing in the dirt. She looked so stuck up, and it made Regulus want to run away from her. He'd rather get chicken pox than be in the same room with her.

Walburga cocked an eyebrow at her sons, telling them to go and follow Y/N. Sirius ran outside to the garden with Regulus hot on his heels. The boys spotted Y/N sitting on the grass as she looked up at the starry sky.

“Whatcha lookin' at?” Sirius asked as he sat beside Y/N. 

“What do you think I'm looking at?” Y/N said sarcastically, not batting an eye at the two boys who were beside her.

“Ouch, venomous.” Sirius grinned, scooting closer to Y/N. “You looking at the stars? Looking for me, huh?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the older boy beside her. Her eyes then landed on Regulus, who had his lips curled into a scowl, as if it were normal.

“What are you scowling at?” Y/N snapped at Regulus.

“Nothing,” Regulus sneered, turning his gaze away from Y/N. He couldn't stand her; just looking at her made him want to vomit. Y/N rolled her eyes, wanting so badly to just run away and never come back.

“Your brother's a git.” Y/N whispered in Sirius' ear.

“He'll grow on you.” Sirius promised with a smirk.

“Regulus looks conceited.”

Regulus' ears perked up at the mention of his name. He was conceited!? How dare she!?

“What did you say?” Regulus snapped, stepping closer to Y/N.

Y/N smirked. “You heard me.” She then turned back to face the stars.

Regulus huffed, his annoyance towards the girl turning into anger. He walked up to the flower beds and scooped up a handful of mud before walking back to Y/N and Sirius.

“Oi, Y/N!” Regulus yelled. As soon as she turned around, Regulus threw the clump of mud at the younger girl.

“My dress!” Y/N shrieked as mud splattered across her face and dress. She tried to wipe it off, but it was of no use. She glared at Regulus, who was smirking. Y/N balled her hands, clenching them into tight fists before storming up to Regulus and punching him square in the nose. Regulus stumbled back as he clutched his bleeding nose.

“You git!” Y/N screamed angrily as she tried to land a punch again. Regulus then pushed Y/N into a nearby bush. “I hate you! I hate you to the moon and back!” Y/N screamed at him, standing up and running back inside the house.

Sirius and Regulus burst out in a fit of giggles. That girl is certainly a spoiled brat.

“Mummy! Mummy! He threw mud at me!” Y/N shrieked as she approached her mother from the Black's back garden. Her dress was covered in mud, her pigtails were dishevelled, and she had twigs and leaves stuck in her hair. “Mummy! Regulus threw mud at me!” Y/N yelled again, tears forming in her big, bright eyes.

Meanwhile, the boy in question was snickering from behind the large oak door.

“The little spoiled princess got what she deserved.” Regulus grinned triumphantly at his older brother, who was trying his best not to burst out laughing at the sight of little Y/N Selwyn, stomping her foot at her mother and father, demanding that they do something about Regulus' behaviour towards her.

This was not her idea of fun.

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @lilmaymayy @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @starrystormwritings

#regulus black imagine #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black fanfic #sirius and regulus #regulus black #regulus x you #regulus x reader #regulus x y/n #regulus black x female reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus black x reader #reggie black #the noble and most ancient house of black #sirius black #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothée chalamet fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #the black brothers #insert reader #reader insert #pureblood reader #regulus arcturus black

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Princess

Azriel x Reader

One of the series I'm currently working on, hope you enjoy it.

Princess masterlist

General masterlist

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse and death, description of reader.

Prologue

Y/n felt like she would pass out any moment now, the iron smell of blood filled her senses, her stomach twisting and the tears pouring down her face like a stream.

She couldn’t see the bodies, the guards of the winter court were standing in front of her shielding the view, she didn’t know if she wanted to thank them or curse them out for keeping her from seeing her parents one last time. A lady doesn’t curse. Her mother’s words ringed in her ears. A lady is polite.

She closed her eyes and took a few steps back exiting the house.

“We will take them now” a guard told her, and she nodded in response.

She was shopping dresses for the ball her cousin had invited her to. It was the perfect opportunity to meet high ranked faes her mother had told her. Guilt filled her body, she should’ve been there, with them. Who would do that? Enter a small cottage to steal… everyone knew that her family was poor, and when her father managed to sell some of the vegetables they grew in the covered part of their garden -so snow wouldn’t ruin them-, all the money would be used to buy clothes for her. Her parents always called her their saviour. She was beautiful, almost black hair, eyes sweet and brown like honey, gold in the sun. High cheekbones and full lips. She was a stunning female and that meant they could wed her to a noble fae thus she was their saviour. Ever since she was a little girl, she was trained to be a good wife, her only skills were keeping the house clean, cooking and being gentle and obedient. What would she do now? She wasn’t trained for anything else. She smoothed her dress and turned her back when the guards carried her parent’s bodies away from the house. The females of her street entered her house, rugs in their hands and buckets filled with water and essential oils to clean and take care of the smell. She always helped everyone in need and now it was time for them to pay her back for her kindness.

She didn’t know how long she stayed outside, snowflakes landing on her face leaving a rosy shade as they melted. She was used to the cold, it was even comforting for her. When the females were done cleaning, she walked inside nodding her head at the looks of pity she received. Her house was spotless, not a hint of the brutal act that took place there a few hours ago. She noticed that someone had even baked a pie for her. Her mouth watered but as she approached the pie she only felt nauseous, how could she eat right now? She shook her head and sat on the couch staring at the snow outside from the window there.

The next morning found her in the same spot, her tears had dried. She stood up and walked to the kitchen. You need to eat; males prefer healthy females who can carry their heirs. Her mother’s words again.  She stared at the cold pie and ignoring her nausea she took a bite. She finished her food and cleaned the kitchen. She had to get to the ball, that’s what her parents wanted. So, with a deep breath she walked to the bathing room and stripped her clothes, the water was cold but she didn’t mind, she was numb. When she was done, she walked into her room, the dress she bought was laying on her bed, probably one of the females found it where she dropped it and left it here. After getting dressed and pulling her hair in a high bun she stared her reflection in the small mirror of her room. She looked good, only her eyes were dull, but she was sure no one would notice, males didn’t care about those things as long as she had a smile plastered on her face.

It would take a few hours to get to the big house where the ball was held. Her cousin was waiting for her outside in her small carriage. She smoothed the dress and left the house not looking back. No one was standing back there waving goodbye and wishing her luck anymore. As she climbed into the carriage her cousin had a sad smile on her face, she ignored her and made herself comfortable. The ride was filled with silence and after a few hours they arrived. Y/n was staring the house in awe, it was a beautiful three-story building with a huge garden. They were in the middle of the forest, the snowy trees only making the scene more magical.

The inside of the house was just as magnificent, everything decorated with gold ornaments, the floor so shiny someone could think it was a mirror. Blending in wasn’t that hard for y/n after all she was trained to be anything a male would want, a glass of wine in her hand, a sweet smile on her face and….as she turned to walk around she was met with a hard body, spilling her wine on the male’s feet.

“Watch where you’re fucking going” he hissed. He looked the same age as her, blond hair, blue eyes but filled with spite.

“I’m so sorry” she stuttered.

“Clean the mess you created. Now.” He ordered and she quickly grabbed the nearest cloth she could find, kneeling in front of him to clean his shoes.

“What the hell are you doing” a female voice said from behind. Y/n turned around slowly. Relief filled her face when she noticed the blonde female staring at him and not her.

“Why do you care” he growled.

The female grabbed y/n hand and pulled her so she was standing.

“Next time I see you treating a woman like that it will be your last day on this world” she said in a calm voice that sent shivers down y/n’s spine. The male paled and hurried off to his friends.

“Girl what was that?” the blonde asked her wide eyed.

“I spilled my wine on him…. It was my fault” y/n muttered.

“He would get over it, just an apology was enough” she scoffed. “I’m Mor by the way”

“Y/n. And I just wanted to please him, he could be a nice husband”.

Mor blinked. A look of horror when she realized that y/n was one of the girls trained to be perfect wives. Kallias had informed her about those types of girls and how he was planning to stop it.

“Cauldron boil me, who trained you like that?”

“My parents” y/n replied, her bottom lip trembled. “They were murdered yesterday” she continued.

Mor stared at y/n, her heart filled with rage.

“Do you have anyone else?”

“No… but I’m trying to find a husband like my parents wanted me to.”

“Okay, you’re coming with me. I’m not leaving you here alone with all these brutes” Mor replied making y/n gasp.

“Where?” she asked bitting her bottom lip. She was nervous but her eyes flashed with excitement.

“To the night court” and with that Mor grabbed her hand and darkness swallowed them.

When the darkness disappeared, they fell into a big balcony.

“Sorry I forgot to tell you about the drop” Mor smiled apologetically.

“It’s okay” y/n replied and turned to see the view. A beautiful city laid beneath them, buildings crafted out of white marbles and townhouses with green copper roofs and white chimneys. A river that started from the top of the hills and ended in the sea. The city was full of light and noise, y/n didn’t think that a city could be this beautiful without snow. She kept staring not daring to blink in case she missed anything. Mesmerizing. The only word that came into her mind. Mor was grinning next to her, amused by the way the young female was frozen in her spot, her eyes wide and a small smile on her face.

“By the way, stop being so okay with everything” Y/n snapped her head to Mor caught off guard when the blonde spoke. “You were okay with leaving with a stranger, and also okay when said stranger dropped you on a balcony endangering your life since you weren’t ready” Mor continued.

“I’m just being polite” y/n responded frowning. The blonde female just shook her head and started walking. They were met with glass doors that led into a dining room where several faeries were sitting enjoying their food and wine. All eyes were on y/n in an instant.

Mor cleared her throat. “Hello everyone, I brought some company” Y/n immediately felt uncomfortable, everyone was dressed so casually and here she stood in a pink dress of tulle, the skirt floating around her like a tent.

“This is y/n” Mor spoke again, and the female straightened her posture not sure if anyone spoke in the meantime when she was lost in her thoughts.

“I’m Rhysand” one of the males spoke and Y/n almost choked on air.

“The high lord of the night court Rhysand?” her hands were shaking, and she now regretted the choice to follow Mor here. Everyone burst into laughter by her reaction.

Rhysand smiled “And this is my high lady Feyre, her sisters Nesta and Elain, Cassian the General and commander of my armies, Amren my second in command and Azriel my spymaster.”

Y/n’s eyes were frantic from one face to another but what finally caught her attention was the hazel eyes of the spymaster, she studied him, her eyes moving from his face to his wings and hands -scarred hands. He caught her and removed his hands from the table, her face burned in embarrassment, and she moved her gaze back to Rhysand who kept staring at her waiting for what she had to say.

“Uhm my name is y/n, I’m from the winter court” she stuttered.

Rhysand’s gaze turned to Mor who finally spoke again “She was raised to be a good wife and her parents were murdered yesterday so you can understand why I think she needs protection.” Azriel snorted and Nesta gave him a questioning look “That means she was raised like a princess the worst thing she ever did was washing a dish probably and she has no idea about the world outside her pink bubble” he explained. Nesta’s face hardened and y/n stared at her shoes. “And dear Mor decided to bring her here to protect her without asking anyone first” he continued and stood up abandoning his food as he disappeared into the hall.

“Please excuse Azriel” Feyre spoke “He has been through a lot, you are welcome to stay here as long as you wish for, let me show you the guest rooms”

“Thank you” she replied and followed Feyre. The last thing she heard was Mor reassuring Rhysand that she wasn’t a threat.

Now she entirely regretted following a stranger, but she knew that in order to survive in this world she needed to stay here even if Azriel and Nesta made her life a nightmare.

Just a thought I had yesterday. Do you think I should continue this story?

#acotar #acotar series #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian acotar #cassian #nessian #mor acotar #acotar fanfiction #nesta archeron #amren acotar #amren #inner circle #nesta #night court #winter court

[i-cant-sing]

IMAGINE THE KAMO CLAN WANTS AN ALLIANCE WITH THE ZENIN

so they offer that noritoshi (who is secretly in love with teen!fushiguro reader) marry her, the zenin and the kamo have made this type of alliance for years, it is totally normal for them

but definitely the kamo did not wait for naoya to come to his house shouting that no kamo spawn is going to sully his sweet daughter---- NIECE

when the others hear the news, toji, gojo, nanami, megumi, mai and maki arrive, ALSO SUKUNA WHO TOOK POSSESSION OF YUJI'S BODY

poor noritoshi

AHahaha yesss, I mean the elders just wanted to form an alliance, and neither clan really knew just how strong Fushiguro reader was as a toddler, so it was right to arrange a marriage for you.

As a child, Noritoshi didnt really care much for you, especially since he had battles of his own- being born to a mistress, being the heir of the clan because the head wife couldnt bear sons so, he has to deal with that.

But youre adorable and you grow on anyone, even the Zenin clan, so when toddler Fushiguro reader meets 9 year old Noritoshi, the latter only thinks of you as a spoiled brat at first. And why wouldnt he? Youre running around barefoot in the garden, dressed in sparkly pink hello kitty pjs with servants chasing after you, with Naoya screaming from the shed that he'll lock you up if he catches you grabbing his million dollar koi fish.

Noritoshi's disgust is quite understandable when you come upto him, hair disheveled, face sweaty, and you stick your muddy hand to his face.

"Hi! Im Y/n Fushiguro!" "ZENIN! Y/N ZENIN!" Naoya yells before dragging you away for training (Naoya didnt want you to meet your future husband).

As time goes on, Noritoshi would be sent to the Zenin estate on different errands (by this point, the Kamo clan has heard rumors of your powers and now want Noritoshi to go and woo you, which is a huge task since Noritoshi isnt someone who is able to express emotions, much less romantic ones). But even though he might not be able to express his emotions, doesnt mean his heart hasnt turned soft for you. Youre pollar opposite to him, loud, energetic, carefree- and yet Noritoshi cant help but feel that you... sort of complete him. Youre everything hes not and he likes that. Like 2 puzzle pieces that fit together, he completes you too. Hes quiet, calm, realistic- he brings peace to you, especially when youre mind gets overstimulated by- well, you.

How many times has it been that Noritoshi has stopped your panic attacks when you realised that your father Toji, wasnt coming back? How many times has Noristoshi had to pull you into his robes when your cursed energy started to lose control, risking himself just to calm you down and help you control it as his soft monotonous voice guided you through it?

And how many times has it been that Noritoshi would have his terrible day turned around with just you calling him "Nori!"? Or the times he'd be questioning his worth in the clan and all he needed was you to lean your head against his shoulder to feel like a million bucks? Noritoshi would be the type of man who people would think doesnt really care about love and marriage, when in reality, he just spent the entire night listening to you yap about your day, about Hello Kitty, about uncle Naoya, pausing in between to say "hmm, okay its getting late, we should sleep" only to suddenly remember a new topic to ramble on about. And youd think Noritoshi wanst listenting to you with the way hes staring at your face in awe, but really- he remembers every single word. You could quiz him. Its funny listening to man like him talk about Hello Kitty.

When the time comes for you two to actually get married, Naoya throws a fit, and surprisingly, the Zenin clan also doesnt want to marry you off to Kamo clan (or anyone). People opposing the marriage from your side would be the Zenin clan, the twins (who start telling you all the reasons why marriage is a trap and youd be dead in 2 days.), Gojo (he just chuckles and tells you not to worry because he wont let you be forced into marriage), Nanami (my man wholeheartedly believes youre being a victim of child marriage, BUT NOT ON HIS WATCH! GONNA KILL ANYONE WHO EVEN THINKS OF U LIKE THAT- just sit in his condo and eat the sandwhich he made for you. And dont argue.), Megumi (who doenst get why he wasnt ever informed that you, his baby sister, was in an arranged marriage, and why the hell didnt Noritoshi try to get his blessings/permission considering THAT HES YOUR CLOSEST FAMILY MEMBER??? Also, no- youre not marrying Kamo) and then... theres Sukuna (if you thought Naoya threw a fit, youre in for A WORLD OF TANTRUMS AS SUKUNA SCREAMS AND MOST LIKELY KILLS WHOEVER IS IN A MILE VICINITY, just to let off some steam and calm down before he talks to you and REMINDS YOU THAT YOU PROMISED TO MARRY HIM! HAVE YOU BEEN PROPOSING TO EVERY GUY YOU MET?)

People supporting this union would be all from Noritishi's side, including- the Kamo clan, Choso Kamo (cause ofc, youre just a precious baby like Yuji, and with you being part of the clan means he can protect u better), and surprise surprise Kenjaku (because youd be strong addition to the clan and then you and Nori will have babies with SUPER STRONG CURSED ENERGY AND HE'LL ACCOMPLISH HIS PLAN FOR WORLD DOMINATION).

Anyways, its a sticky situation and it all comes down to you really. Do you want to marry Noritoshi or not?

#yandere noritoshi #yandere noritoshi kamo #yandere naoya #yandere naoya zenin #yandere zenin clan #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #male yandere #tw yandere #yandere sukuna #yandere sakuna