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merakiui · 4 months

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yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, pregnancy, implied baby-trapping, captivity, very vague and slight implications of codependency, angst note - your mobile phone was at 100% when he took you away. with time, the percentage has diminished. so, too, does your hope for a brighter future.

The windowpane is spattered with rain.

Sitting cozy in a cushioned alcove, you watch the droplets slide down in regal rivulets, consolidating to form single streaks. The scenery beyond the window is bleak and dreary—a despondent landscape of gnarled, leafless trees and scratchy brambles stretching towards a dark, dismal sky. Sometimes you liken the rain to tears, wondering if Mother Nature weeps for all creatures or simply for you and your situation. Rare are the days in which the sun shines upon the craggy stone façade of your captor’s castle, and she is as benevolent as she is cruel.

For all of its sumptuous splendor, generational wealth filling the interior with priceless heirlooms and relics, it is an empty, cold structure. You’ve taken to enveloping yourself in thick furs, if only because these furs do not speak like the monster who so humbly offers his embrace. Though you’ve always considered yourself of strong, sturdy mind, your restraint is thinning. As the days pass and you shed clothing sizes like they’re second skins, you find yourself drawn to warmth.

Which is, ironically enough, contradictory to your current temperament. The windows, frigid like the grave, provide solace you cannot find anywhere else—for it is only tender warmth you receive from him. Had he not been so merciful, perhaps it would have been easier to shrink away and truly loathe him with every ounce of your being.

And yet, in order to escape the warmth which enshrouds, you seek the cold, bitter windows and their rain-weary countenance.

Lying beside you on the pillows, snoozing the afternoon away, a calico cat snores idly. She was a gift from him. You were neglectful of your mental health and thus, as per his guard’s suggestion, he sought to find a cat to cure your loneliness and inspire some form of happiness. You appreciate Silver—genuinely, you do—but the good luck a calico brings is not nearly enough to rescue you from captivity.

She was a stray, a scrawny thing with a limp and one bad eye. You took to her right away, scooping her up in your arms and lovingly naming her Cotton. Similarly, she returned your affections, rubbing her head against your palm and purring pleasantly.

Now she likes to nudge the dome that is your stomach, a great, round thing at only six months. Sometimes you think she’s more motherly than you are. You’ve never been able to care for much of anything. Plants wither under your touch, recipes spoil even when you follow them to the letter, and your electronics crack.

Your phone, more fractured than your very heart, is cold in your hands. The screen is blank; it’s dying. It was at 100% before. Now it’s been reduced to a sad 7%. There is no reception or connection to be had in Briar Valley. Your phone, once so powerful and all-knowing, is but a hollow shell. Useless. A digital photo album will expire at its final hour, and there’s no charger. He offered to use his magic to charge it, but he has never known his own strength and you couldn’t risk losing the treasured memories stored within.

Sometimes you’d return to old message logs and read through them. Now you can’t do that, lest you drain the battery quicker than intended.

“So this is where you’ve retreated,” Malleus notes, poking his head around the corner of a towering bookcase. Concern settles on his features. “Are you well? Sebek tells me you were absent for breakfast.” “I wasn’t hungry,” you mutter, watching his reflection through the stormy glass.

Malleus glances at Cotton and then at your phone as it rests in your clasp. “May I trouble you to eat just a little, if only some fruit?”

“I’m not hungry.” He nods, stalling. “Will you join me for lunch?”

“If I must.”

A small smile lifts his lips. “Are you cold? It can’t be very comfortable to sit there for such a long time. You’ll catch your death.”

“I hope.”

He tuts in disapproval and shrugs out of his cloak, draping it over you even though you’re already wearing a fleece robe. Malleus assesses you with a fleeting once-over.

“It doesn’t hurt to layer. You must understand where I’m coming from, dearest. Extreme temperatures serve to weaken those who are already so fragile.”

“I’m not fragile,” you snap, turning to scowl.

He doesn’t flinch at the heat smoldering in your eyes. “You’re human.”

“How many times did you have to practice that to come to terms with it?”

Malleus’s verdant stare narrows; his frown tightens. “It’s the truth.”

“I didn’t think you’d confront it.”

“I must if I’m to understand…” He exhales through his nose, deflating somewhat. “You’re in fine health. The physician tells me so. There’s no need to worry ourselves with ineffectual what-ifs.”

You turn your gaze on the sprawling forest next, unwilling to discuss the report and its subsequent conclusion: If she remains in good health and follows the recommended diet for an expecting mother, she’ll carry to term.

“My phone is dying, Malleus.”

“Is that not life? Lilia once said so.”

“My pictures… My everything is stored in this phone. It means so much to me.”

“Truly? Is there not a way to make physical copies of these photographs?”

“Unless Briar Valley has the technology to do so…”

“I’m afraid not.”

Malleus takes a daring step closer, endeavoring to comfort you. Cotton cracks her good eye open to peer at him. She hisses low in her throat, a protector standing small against something so tall. Pouting, clearly disheartened, Malleus heeds her warning and chooses to linger just within the bounds she deems acceptable.

“Yeah, that’s what I assumed.”

You heave a dejected sigh, your shoulders drooping. Seeking to cleanse your visual palate, you power the device on. 5% blinks back at you, an insignificant number sitting in a corner that you normally wouldn’t have paid much mind to. Now it weighs heavy, a reminder that the end is encroaching.

“I would’ve liked to keep these photos forever,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. Malleus hums his acknowledgement; you think he knows the feeling—or some variant of it, at least. “If I lose these pictures…”

“Do you not have memories?”

“I do, but it isn’t the same. One day I’ll grow old and my memory will be frail. I won’t remember nearly as much as I do now. Those memories will become ghosts and eventually I’ll—”

“You will not.” There’s a finality to the declaration—you won’t leave me; you won’t drain or die like this mobile device.

You rest your head against the window. The cool glass soothes your soul. I wonder what the others are up to right now… You place your hand upon your belly. I wonder if they’d have any good ideas for a name. I’m terrible at naming things. I can never pick something that feels right.

“I’d like to have a funeral for my phone.”

But maybe there is no right thing.

“Of course,” he agrees, perfectly serious. You will have that phone funeral, just as you will have every other request you make—however patently absurd it may seem. (Every other request except for freedom, of course.) “Materials may not have the same worth as a loved one, but the experiences they provide are just as valuable. Surely, no? Otherwise I would not feel so troubled when Roaring Drago…” Pausing to search for the placeholder, Malleus glances at your phone. “Perhaps there is no greater tragedy than existence itself.”

“It’s the most bittersweet burden,” you echo, scrolling through each picture with wistful remembrance. “But then I’d rather know the fleeting frivolity of life than endure hundreds of years of solitude. It makes me appreciate everything that much more.”

You stop at a picture of you and Malleus, a photo snapped by Lilia himself. Part of you often wonders why he chose you—why he adores you to such a degree when you, like everyone else, will inevitably perish. But therein lies the allure: That which is unobtainable is even more tempting. And because there is only one of you, a human destined to one day return to her home world, your very presence is more fleeting than a dream.

To Malleus, who has always dreamt, fond and fervent, of the unobtainable mundanity of normal life, you are a sweet, tangible blessing.

“Horns, do you think I’ll ever get another chance to have my phone at 100%?”

He softens under the nickname. It means more to him than his lofty station. “Would you like to know that joy?”

“It would be nice, yes, but then I’d just get sad when it reaches zero. I guess I should be grateful it’s stayed alive for this long. Sorry, it’s a stupid question. Just forget it.”

“Nonsense. There is no such thing.” He reaches to touch your cheek, but Cotton hisses again and so he refrains. She stands on unsteady legs and climbs into your lap, perching awkwardly in spite of your rounded belly. The sight draws a deep chuckle from him. “Your feline friend is quite taken with you.”

“It’s probably because I’m warm. She likes my belly a lot.”

“As do I.”

You roll your eyes.

“Your beauty is most beguiling. There’s a certain radiance to your person. It’s very charming. Do you not agree?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere—definitely not in Cotton’s good graces.”

“I’m simply voicing a fact.”

Your hand slides down from your stomach to pat Cotton. She purrs under your touch, and a weak approximation of a smile tugs at your lips. Amidst all of this sorrow, she is a glimmer of hope. In a way, she’s like you—a stray without a place in this world, snatched from the cobbles she once wandered and confined in a cage of royal opulence. Your similarities are striking, if not immensely devastating.

“Fact or not, I don’t care if I look pretty. It means nothing to me.”

“To be impartial towards appearances… Quite a noble mindset.”

I never once thought you were scary or strange, Horns. Even now.

You look at your phone once more. 3% flickers back.

You’re just lost, and in being lost you found me. But I was also lost. I never even belonged in this world to begin with…

“I’m not going to be a good mother.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can’t even take care of myself.”

“I shall care for you when you find yourself unable to.”

“I’d rather you not.”

With Cotton having curled on your lap, slumbering peacefully, Malleus chances to close the gap. His broad frame leans to make up for the difference in height, and he runs cold fingers along your cheek. He brushes away the tears you weren’t even aware you were shedding.

You grip your phone in shaky hands, your shoulders hunched. There’s a piercing ache in your chest, pain stabbing all the way through to your heart. It persists when you power it off, unable to delight in pictorial reminiscence for a moment longer. Silent like death, you sob; seismic dismay shudders through you in waves. Distantly, in a forgotten corner of your brain, you suspect this may be the last time you’ll ever use your phone. The last time you’ll ever look upon the photos you’ve amassed. Photos of friends, class notes, food. Photos snapped by mistake, blurry and unfocused. Photos taken when Ace and Grim stole your phone. Precious memories are preserved within the permanence of a photo album—an album that only remains everlasting so long as you keep your phone charged.

Your final shred of the world beyond Briar Valley vanishes in a blip, leaving you with the dark void that is an empty screen. Brutal is the agony, contorting your face, and you bawl like you’ve just witnessed the end of a life.

In a way, you have. You held it in the palm of your hands, and you watched it wither. Watched the percentages drop through numbers, double digits easing into singles. Watched every week and tried to spare your beloved phone of its fate. Watched and attempted to stall the impossible—a foolish undertaking. This was inevitable; you knew this, and yet you’re still mourning.

Perhaps that is the most tragic facet of existence. From the moment one is born, they are mourning. Humans mourn losing time—of allowing it to slip through their fingers when they should have put it to better use. Humans mourn aging even though it is celebrated yearly. Humans mourn for things that are inhuman—for robots stuck in an endless cycle of some menial task while gears grow rusted and systems shut down or trapped on a distant planet, never to return home. For the fruit that falls from trees and rots, trampled and forgotten. For the endings, good and bad, of novels. For art that will never see the light of day because it has been destroyed or stolen or silenced. For the friends they meet, have met, and will meet.

You mourn because you know it’s impending, and you spend all of your life coming to terms with it, only to break down when it finally happens because the truth of the matter is that you will never be prepared no matter how much you prepare yourself. You mourn because you’re a complex human with complex emotions, surviving in a complex world with millions of intricacies, and the only way to weather misery is to mourn.

To the little life cradled in your womb, who knows not of these difficulties yet, they cannot fathom the anguish that accompanies loss. And right now that is all you can hope for—a life without loss.

But that is impossible because loss is true to everyone’s experience. It is part of existence, and existence is inescapable.

Malleus does not gather you in his arms. He will do so if you ask, and he knows you want to ask, which is precisely why he waits. But you’re stubborn and you refuse to give in to the temptation, let alone grant him the satisfaction. It doesn’t offend him.

The windowpane is spattered with rain. So, too, is your phone, spotted with tears and snot.

Briefly, you wonder if you still look beautiful to Malleus.

Even at your ugliest, he would still cherish you. Desperately, as if he might lose you.

Knowing this does not soften the gutting grief.

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus draconia x reader #yandere malleus

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novlr · 4 months

Note

What are some good ways to write about winter?

Winter. is a season of stark contrasts and sensory experiences. It provides the perfect canvas to paint vivid scenes that range from cosy romances to horror-filled stormy nights.

When writing about winter, it’s essential to capture the essence of its chill and the way it can transform the world. Here are some quick tips!

Sights

A blanket of pristine snow covering the landscape

Bare tree branches coated with frost

Delicate snowflakes drifting from the grey sky

Icicles hanging like crystal daggers from rooftops

Colourful clothes stark against the white of snow

Sunlight reflecting off the snow, creating a blinding glare

Animal tracks stamped into the powder

Frozen lakes and puddles

Man-made objects like snowmen and snow angels

Lights shining against dark backdrops

Sounds

Snow muffling and dampening the usual noises

Boots crunching on the frozen ground

People laughing and shouting as they play

Wind howling through barren branches

Ice cracking underfoot or on distant lakes

The silence of a snow-covered world

Shovels scraping against sidewalks

Snowballs hitting their targets with soft thuds

Branches creaking, laden with snow

The rustle of animals keeping warm in burrows

Smells

The fresh, clean scent of snow in the air

Wood smoke curling from chimneys

The earthy aroma of damp wool from coats and gloves

The sharp tang of frost and cold metal

Hot chocolate and marshmallows

Pine needles and the subtle scent of evergreen

Baking spices from holiday treats

The slight ozone smell before a snowstorm

Wet dog from snowball fights with furry friends

Leather and polish from well-worn boots

Activities

Building snow forts and castles

Ice skating on a frozen pond or rink

Snowshoeing through a silent forest

Curling up by the fire with a good book

Skiing and snowboarding down powdery slopes

Brisk walks to enjoy the winter air

Hiking up snowy mountains for panoramic views

Having snowball fights with friends or family

Feeding birds or wildlife braving the cold

Decorating the home with festive lights and ornaments

Character body language

Shivering and huddling for warmth

Rubbing hands together or blowing on them for heat

Shoulders hunched against the biting wind

Slipping and steadying oneself on icy patches

Squinting against the bright snow glare

Snuggling into oversized coats and scarves

Stamping feet to restore circulation

Clapping hands to keep the cold at bay

Arms wrapped around the torso for warmth

Quick, brisk movements to minimise exposure to the cold

Positive descriptions

The serene beauty of a snow-covered meadow at dawn

The invigorating feeling of cold air filling your lungs

The cosiness of a warm blanket on a frosty night

The joy of catching snowflakes on your tongue

The camaraderie of coming together to shovel snow

The nostalgia of winter holidays and traditions

The satisfaction of making the perfect snowball

The wonder of ice patterns on windows

The laughter and excitement of a snow day

The glistening of a frosted evergreen in the sun

Negative descriptions

The biting sting of the wind against exposed skin

The numbness of fingers and toes in the cold

The dreariness of shortened, grey days

The inconvenience of navigating slushy streets

The isolation of a blizzard keeping everyone indoors

The discomfort of wet socks and snow in your boots

The hazard of black ice on sidewalks and roads

The burden of heavy layers and winter gear

The dull ache of a cold that lingers

The gloom that can accompany the lack of sunlight

Helpful adjectives

Biting, chilly, frosty, glacial, icy

Crisp, brisk, sharp, piercing, raw

Fluffy, powdery, crunchy, slick, slippery

Dreary, overcast, bleak, sombre, grey

Cosy, snug, warm, toasty, plush

Twinkling, sparkling, shimmering, glistening

Silent, muffled, still, hushed, quiet

Fresh, clean, invigorating, brisk, bracing

Nostalgic, traditional, joyous, festive, celebratory

Isolating, inconvenient, burdensome, hazardous, gloomy

493 notes · View notes

ellecdc · 3 months

Text

Come Back, Be Here (part 6)

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.1k

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, mention of Bellatrix's cursed knife (same injury Hermione received in canon), racism/bigotry, swearing x a million cuz it's Remus' POV, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. How will Sirius react when he finally gets his love back, only to have you snatched out from under him again?

“Where the FUCK is she?”

The headmaster calmly placed his teacup back on its saucer as the two men came barging into his office.

“Ah, Mr. Black. Mr. Lupin. Please, take a seat.”

So, Sirius did; he took the seat, and he threw it at the wall.

“I am not fucking around old man. Where. Is. She? Where is Y/N?” He barked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

Sirius stopped in his pacing.

“You don’t know!?” Remus repeated incredulously.

Dumbledore nodded.

Sirius picked up a spinning orb from the headmaster’s desk and sent it careening to the window. The windows – the damned things – were charmed not to break, but the orb did. As pieces of crystal shattered and scattered onto the floor, many sleeping portraits of previous headmasters began waking. A few stayed behind to watch the spectacle, whilst many left to find other portraits to haunt for the time being.

“That’s not good enough.” Sirius fumed.

With a casual flick of his wand, Dumbledore righted the chair Sirius had thrown. “Why don’t you have a seat, son?”

“I am not your fucking son!” He shouted back, kicking the seat over again.

“Mr. Lupin, why don’t you encourage your friend here to calm down?” The portrait of a previous headmistress asked condescendingly.

“Get fucked, ma’am.” Was his muttered response.

With a huff, the headmistress decided to leave as well.

“I am so sick of being played like some pawn in this gods-awful game of yours! We are children! You fucking groomed us as students and enlisted us right out of the gates, fattening us up like cattle for slaughter!”

“Now, Mr. Black-”

“I’M NOT DONE.” Sirius roared.

Dumbledore shifted his eyes to Remus, who kept his gaze firmly on him.

“You – you’re supposed to be this powerful wizard with years of experience. You defeated that Grindel-fuck back in the sodding dark-ages or whenever, yet somehow, this is out of your wheelhouse!?”

“Mr. Black, everyone learned from the Global Wizarding World with Grindelwald; Tom Riddle how to cheat death, and myself to enlist the help of others.” Dumbledore said.

“But you didn’t get help! You got soldiers, and we’re the ones fighting this fucking war for you! You get to sit here in this bloody castle with powerful ancient wards protecting you, drinking your tea, wanking to the portraits of the other headmasters in your spare time, while the rest of us get their fucking heads blown off!

“We’re the ones being captured. We’re the ones being tortured. We’re the ones being killed. We’re the ones with blood on our hands fighting for our fucking lives, everyday! Bouncing from safe-house to safe-house whilst never being safe. And you know! You’ve known there was a spy, you’ve had contacts on the other side, but you give us nothing. You just send us off on these fucking missions, blind, and we all have to hope that that’s enough. That we’ll live to see another day. That we’ll make it home to our loved ones.”

Sirius paused to catch his breath. “You will not get away with using her like this, not anymore, not by me.”

Dumbledore’s crystal blue eyes bore into Sirius’ stormy grey ones. After a few moments, he offered him a subtle nod.

“Where is she?” He repeated, quieter this time.

“Sirius, the truth is that I do not know.”

Sirius groaned. “How can you not know!? Fine, fine. Who is your contact? Apparently, someone who was in league with the Black’s for the stupid fucking house-elf to betray me like this. So, who is it? Narcissa? Finally tired of the bleach fumes from that husband of hers? It can’t be Bellatrix.”

Dumbledore pursed his lips as he considered Sirius.

“It’s not Bellatrix, is it?” He asked in quiet disbelief.

“No, son, it is not Bellatrix.”

“’Kay well, tell me who it is, then. Reg’s dead so you’re leaving me with dear old Cissy here.”

Dumbledore leaned onto his forearms on his desk as he peered at Sirius over his half-moon spectacles.

“A house-elf will always be the most loyal to the head of the house it serves.”

Sirius scoffed. “Yeah, well my house-elf just up and fucked-off with the love of my life so I’d say his loyalty doesn’t exactly align with...me...” He trailed off as something seemed to dawn on him.

“Unless I’m not the head of the house.”

Remus’ neck snapped as he whipped his head to regard his friend.

“The deed and the vault at Gringotts were all moved to you, Sirius, you’re the head of the house.”

Sirius never pulled his gaze away from the headmaster. “Goblins can be tricked, and deeds can be forged.” He whispered. “But house-elf magic...”

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair.

“But Regulus is dead. He was pronounced dead – your mother offed herself because he was pronounced dead.” Remus argued.

“He was assumed dead.” Dumbledore corrected.

“Holy fucking shit.” Sirius breathed.

“Regulus has been in contact with me since this past spring. It appears that Miss. L/N was the turning point for him in this war.”

Sirius stared in bafflement. “What do you...”

“You may, one day, need to discuss with your brother. However, what he explained to me,” Dumbledore started. “Is that he had discovered Riddle’s secret of the horcruxes after becoming increasingly disenchanted by his rhetoric. He was intent on defeating Riddle himself, but came to me when he found Y/N.”

The colour drained from Remus’ face. “You knew? All this time.”

Dumbledore turned his gaze to the lycanthrope.

“You knew!?” He repeated.

“You must understand, I could not remove her from Riddle’s ranks without rousing suspicion from the other Death Eaters who knew she was there. We were also becoming increasingly aware of a spy within our ranks and could not jeopardize the intel by alerting the Death Eaters of our own spy.”

“I can’t fucking believe this.” Sirius cried out. “You let her suffer there so you could keep the upper hand!”

“It was for the greater good.”

“Fuck that!” Sirius barked. “Fuck that and fuck you!”

“You do not understand how differently this could have all played out without her, Sirius.”

Remus scoffed. “Oh the ‘could’s’, professor, really? We can sit here until our dying breath discussing all of the fucking could’s that could have taken place from the beginning of fucking time itself and it would mean nothing.”

“I don’t care what could have happened.” Sirius interjected. “You should have protected her. Protected all of us.”

Dumbledore looked between his two former students as he seemed to come to some kind of decision.

“The five horcruxes that Y/N brought us have been destroyed. I do not want to give Riddle time to realize that they are gone. I have discussed with our allies what will need to happen next.” Dumbledore stated.

“And what will need to happen next, professor?” Sirius sneered.

“It appears that Mr. Pettigrew told Riddle he would be the secret keeper by their next meeting.” Dumbledore said as Sirius swallowed bile rising in his throat. “I believe it would be best to lure Riddle out when he does not feel the need for an army.”

Remus leaned forward in his chair. “How do we do that?”

Dumbledore pursed his lips. “It would be best if Riddle remained unaware of our knowledge of Peter.”

“I think he’s going to figure it out when he misses their next club meeting.” Sirius scoffed.

“Unless he goes.” Remus murmured.

“Over my dead body do we release that rat bastard.” Sirius growled.

“I agree, Mr. Black, I do not believe we should entrust Peter. However, there may be another way.”

Sirius looked at Dumbledore blankly. “Tell me, headmaster, do you plan on breaking out some unforgiveables? Because short of imperio, I’m not sure-”

“Polyjuice.” Remus blurted.

Sirius whipped his head to his friend in shock, whilst a twinkle of pride appeared in Dumbledore’s eye.

“We could keep up the ruse.” Remus explained.

“I’ll go.” Sirius claimed.

Remus groaned. “Pads, do you really think you’re the best person for this job?”

Sirius looked at Remus with a look of ill-hidden betrayal. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sirius, this is the most sensitive mission possibly anyone will ever have to take. You are passionate but you have a tendency to go in guns blazing and this is not the setting.”

“I’ll be fine.” Sirius argued.

“You are going to hear and see things that will infuriate and you will not be able to react. You will have to put your morals aside.”

“Rem, honestly, I grew up with the pureblood bullshit, I can handle it.” Sirius insisted.

“It nearly killed you, Pads. I was there when you showed up at the Potter’s.”

“Remus, I’m going.”

“Perhaps it should be me.” Remus stated as if Sirius hadn’t said anything at all.

“Are you insane?”

“Obviously the answer to that is yes but listen: no one would be able to use legillimency on me due to lunar magic, I stand a better chance at keeping a level head, and I’m perhaps just a touch less emotionally invested in this than you are.” Remus argued.

“Besides,” he continued, “I’ve spent my entire life pretending that I’m not a monster. I’m sure I can pretend to be one for a little bit.”

“You’re not a monster.” Sirius sighed.

Remus gave him a sad smile. “See? I’ve fooled you all.”

Dumbledore hummed. “I think Mr. Lupin may be right, Sirius. Perhaps you should trust him with this.”

“Of course I trust him, but-” Sirius started, turning to look at Remus. “I can’t lose you too.” He admitted quietly.

Though the sentiment caused a twinge of pain in Remus’ chest, he couldn’t waste an opportunity to razz his mate. “Awe, Pads. Don’t tell me you’re gonna miss me.” He cheeked as he pinched Sirius’ arm.

“Oh, sod off you wanker.” Sirius muttered and crossed his arms.

“I suppose it’s settled.” Dumbledore claimed. “Please await my correspondence with further instructions.”

October 29th

“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.” James could be heard muttering as he paced the family room of 12 Grimmauld Place.

“Why isn’t Dumbledore doing this himself?” Lily muttered darkly.

“I’m not leaving Y/N in his hands, not again.” Sirius murmured into his hand as he stared at the fire. “It should be me going. Remus, I should go.”

With a sigh, Remus stood from the wingback chair. “No, Pads. It’s too late to change the plan now. It’s going to be fine.”

Sirius shook his head and looked at the ceiling.

“She’s fucking strong, Sirius. And she’s got more people on her side this time. We’re gonna finish this.” Remus pressed.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed and everyone took a steadying breath.

“Be careful, Rem.” Lily tearfully murmured as she gave him a hug.

“I hate this.” James repeated just as quietly as he too hugged the lycanthrope.

Remus smiled at them both before he moved to Sirius, who had shifted his gaze back to the fire.

“We’re close, Pads.” He whispered.

Sirius nodded, keeping his gaze on the fire. “Thank you, Moony. For going after her.”

“She’s pack.” Remus said simply causing Sirius to let out a shuddering breath.

“Be careful.”

Remus nodded in agreement and took a swig from his pocket flask. He grunted slightly as he felt his body shifting and changing, but it was nothing close to the pain he experienced every full moon.

Sirius, Lily, and James all looked in various levels of disgust as Remus – now in the form of Peter Pettigrew – stood to his full height. “How do I look?”

The three friends looked at each other awkwardly before turning back to Remus...Peter?

“Fuck, this is weird.” James muttered.

“Yeah, honestly mate, I think you should go.” Sirius agreed.

Remus rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not actually him, right?”

Lily grimaced. “Yeah, yeah Judas. Get going.”

Sirius and James looked at her inquisitively, but Remus snorted a laugh offering everyone a wave as he stepped into the street. He walked a short distance to a hidden alleyway where he could apparate to the location of the Death Eater meeting. Remus sent one silent prayer to any god who’d listen.

Please let this go smoothly.

Lestrange Manor loomed dauntingly in front of Remus as he tried to muster the courage to walk up the brick path leading to the door. Purebloods and their gaudy houses he mused silently.

“Petty-Pettigrew!” A voice sing-songed behind him, causing him to turn.

Barty Crouch Jr skipped towards him merrily as if he were an alt-punk Dorothy on his way to Oz. He paused in front of Remus and tapped his cheek twice, slightly too hard to be considered just condescending and bordering on aggressive. “How’s our favourite little rat?”

Remus grimaced but tried to play it off as a smile. “Er, I’m-”

“Oh, Salazar. No, I don’t actually care.” Barty chuckled, looking back at his entourage like can you believe this guy? His friendly façade fell as he turned back to Remus. “Better have something for the Dark Lord today, otherwise we’ll find other uses for our little lab rat.” He finished with a slimy wink as he continued up the path to the manor.

Well, Remus thought, welcome to Hell, I suppose.

He followed Barty The Deranged and company up the walkway, fighting the urge to hum: We’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz as he went.

If Remus thought the outside of Lestrange Manor was counteracting the anti-depressants coursing through his system, the inside of it made him want to grab the closest silver fork and end it all. He walked along what had to be a fourty-foot table trying to find the best seat before he realized that this was the wrong approach – every seat was terrible.

“Don’t be absurd, Pettigrew.” Mulciber sneered at Remus. “A lowly like you stands at the back.”

Remus fought the urge to roll his eyes and nodded, moving to stand near the wall by the door. At least I’ll be close if I need a quick exit. He also fought the biting urge to lunge at the sight of Fenrir Greyback. You’re here for a reason, Lupin.

Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Bellatrix Lestrange entered the...Remus didn’t know what the hell purebloods wont to call rooms like this...a grand room? A dining room? A reception hall? Whatever it was called, it fucking sucked, and it sucked worse when those three walked in. The brothers mostly regarded themselves with proper decorum, but Bellatrix and her certain flare seemed to suck the air out of the room causing everyone to stand a little more at attention.

Bellatrix Lestrange walked like she was the Queen of Hearts attending her own coronation. She smiled wickedly at those seated around the table, pausing briefly to share terse words with Lucius Malfoy, before then double-cheek-kissing his wife and her sister, Narcissa.

There seemed to be some sort of disagreement about who should sit in one of the two seats at the head of the table next to the Dark Lord’s seat (throne for all intents and purposes), but a silent conversation that passed between Bellatrix and her brother-in-law resulted in the latter finding another chair.

Voldemort walked into the room and those who had been sitting stood suddenly, falling deathly silent as Voldemort moved to stand at the head of the table. The sickening smell of dark magic accosted Remus who felt his eyes water; he swallowed hard against his gag reflex as a giant python type snake slithered its way into the room.

If there was ever any speculation that Nagini was the sixth horcrux before, Remus now felt confident that he could confirm it.

“My Lord.” Rodolphus said reverently as he bowed his head. Remus watched as the rest of the room did the same, and quickly followed suit – he wanted to throw up.

Remus’ plan of attack here was to be as non-descript as possible. He was here for one reason – tell Voldemort he was the secret keeper and plan a course of ‘attack’ on the Potter home in Godric’s Hollow – otherwise, he was to be invisible. He could not be invisible if he was angry, and if he listened too closely, he’d get angry, so...

He almost missed it when Voldemort addressed him.

“Now, I trust that you were successful in your task?” Voldemort’s voice echoed through the room, sounding more like an actor in a Greek tragedy than a tyrannical fascist leader addressing his followers.

A throat cleared before something hit Remus on the shin. He looked up and realised everyone’s eyes were on him.

“Oh erm, uh yes. My apologies...my Lord...” He tried to regain his footing. “Uhm, I was successful. I am officially the Potter’s secret keeper.”

Bellatrix barely waited until the end of the sentence to stand and begin cackling maniacally. “We’re going to kill the child! We’re going to kill the child!” She sang as she jumped and clapped her hands.

Voldemort hardly spared Bellatrix a sideways gaze as he lifted one hand – she fell silent and returned to her seat, continuing to smile and wiggle as if it were difficult to keep her obvious joy at bay.

“Though I appreciate your enthusiasm,” he began, “I’d like to eliminate this specific threat myself.”

By the end of the sentence, he was offering Remus a chilling smile. Remus worked to keep his breathing even as he tried to reciprocate it.

“Where is this hide away located?” Voldemort asked.

“Erm, Godric’s Hollow, m’Lord.”

“You will take me to them. You shall meet me in the town square at eight in the evening the day after tomorrow. We shall eliminate this threat to me once and for all.”

“Any threat to you is a threat to all of us, my Lord.” Alecto Carrow said severely which was met with a muttering of agreement from around the table.

“You will all be rewarded greatly for your dedication and loyalty to me.” Voldemort declared, and Bellatrix began a round of applause.

The meeting carried on and Remus ensured to take two more swigs of the Polyjuice potion to avoid turning back into himself prematurely.

A black cat had materialized beside Remus at some point throughout the meeting and appeared to make itself at home beside his left foot. The feline seemed to watch as Remus would lift the flask to his mouth, and he became increasingly paranoid that this cat somehow knew he was an imposter. Was this cat a spy? Was this a spy cat who somehow knew Peter was caught for being a spy for the Death Eaters and that I, as a spy, came to this meeting as Peter as a spy for the Order pretending to be Peter who was acting as a spy for the Death Eaters.

Fuck, Remus was losing it.

Get a grip you stupid bastard. He scolded himself.

The meeting appeared to conclude as Voldemort stood, and everyone followed suit. A few higher pointing Death Eaters seemed to congregate at the head of the table – Malfoy, the Lestranges, Mulciber, Snape, Nott, Goyle, and the Carrows encircled Voldemort.

Remus began looking for the door when he felt the cat brush up against his leg. He looked down to the black cat who was peering back up at him – the eyes were light, nearly blue but not quite – and they looked disturbingly familiar. The cat seemed to be cocking an eyebrow at him, if cats could do such a thing, as Remus considered it.

“What?” Remus whispered.

“Make a habit o’ talkin’ to rodents, do ye Pettigrew?” The sickening sound of Greyback’s voice permeated Remus' hearing – as well as his other senses. Suddenly, Remus was four years old again, waking to the sound of screaming that turned out the be his own as a wolf locked its jaw upon his chest. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he thought of his mothers screams and sobs, begging the healers to do something – anything – to help her boy, whilst everyone murmured it’d be kindest to just ‘put the boy out of his misery’.

“I do, actually,” Remus said, lacing his words with venom. “I’ve found they often make better company than a mangey wolf.”

Greyback seemed taken aback as he considered Remus.

“Why you little-”

“Ah, there you are, Splash.” A posh accent commented from Remus’ other side. He turned to see the form of Narcissa Malfoy bending to pick up the black cat.

“Good work, Pettigrew.” She commented as Splash weaseled its way back out of Narcissa’s arms and took a few paces to the door. “Don’t let us keep you.”

Remus nodded at Narcissa, feeling off kilter at her cordial behaviour; he couldn’t imagine Peter ever making friends with the likes of her. He moved toward the door and as he walked, he realized that the cat had paused and was watching Remus before carrying on ahead.

Remus felt like he could finally take a deep breath once he stepped beyond the gated entrance of the manor. His peace didn’t last long when he realized the cat had paused again and was once again watching him.

“Seriously, what the hell do you want?” He muttered quietly.

The cat looked as though it rolled its eyes at him as he walked a few more feet ahead, turning back to Remus.

“Are you expecting me to follow you? I’m not as dumb as I look.” He commented again, though realizing too late that he may actually be as dumb as he looks, seeing as he was currently talking to a cat.

He heard a low growl emanate from the cat’s chest before it turned and walked away without turning back this time to confirm Remus was following it.

“It seems as though curiosity may kill the wolf today.” Remus muttered to himself as he begrudgingly followed the cat against every one of his instincts which were screaming at him to just get the fuck out of there.

The cat stopped in a densely wooded area and seemed to scan the are before turning back to Remus, who in turn stood and stared at the cat dumbly.

“I don’t see a pentagram anywhere, is this not where you plan to sacrifice me to the devil?” He asked as he too scanned the woods for potential threats.

“Salazar, you Gryffindor’s are bloody exhausting.” A voice rang through the woods. Remus whipped his head back towards the sound, and where the cat once stood was none other than Regulus Black.

“Holy fucking shit. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, “and so eloquent, as always.” He muttered.

“What the fuck are you doing here? You’re supposed to be dead.” Remus seethed.

“Disappointed, are you?”

Remus gritted his teeth. “Where’s Y/N?”

Regulus’ eyes softened considerably, though his posture remained stiff as he considered Remus.

“Safe. That is all you need to know.”

“Fuck that, Black. Where is she?”

Regulus sucked in a breath, appearing to attempt to steady himself at having to deal with the likes of Remus.

“The Dark Lord’s followers became aware that she was not as dead as they had previously assumed. We could not risk them searching for her.” Regulus admitted.

“How could they have known she wasn’t dead? The only person who could have reported that to them is Peter and he’s a little tied up right now.” Remus said darkly.

“My cousin’s little art project on her arm was done with a cursed blade – the dark magic left a trace on her. When Yaxley tried to claim that she had died while trying to escape from his hold instead of admitting he let her get away, Bellatrix was quick to prove him wrong.”

“What?” Remus asked in shock.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Good gods, which of you imbeciles did that old man send?” He asked before casting a quick finite over Remus.

Remus felt the Polyjuice potion wash away from his form as he stretched out to his correct height.

“Aren’t you wolves supposed to have superhuman hearing?” He asked condescendingly.

“Fuck off.” Remus spat.

“Now, now. There is no need for such language, Lupin; we are on the same side, after all.”

“Like fuck we are. You’re a marked Death Eater, and you abducted Y/N.” He spat.

“I think it should be obvious by now that I have clearly defected here, Lupin.” Regulus responded.

“Why?”

This seemed to catch Regulus off guard. “Pardon?”

“Why defect?”

Remus watched as Regulus stared hard at him, when suddenly a filmy haze seemed to overtake Regulus’ grey eyes and his face grew hard.

“I hardly think that is relevant.”

The two men stared at each other sizing one another up.

Remus felt conflicted. He knew Sirius hated his family, but Sirius never really could bring himself to hate Regulus – he was only a child, just like Sirius was. Regulus was a victim too. They were each dealt a shitty hand, but the way they played their cards were different. Regulus chose the path of least resistance by adapting and adhering to his parent’s wishes. Sirius rebelled, pushed back, and decided to fold, leaving the game altogether.

Sirius wanted to hate Regulus; when he got his Dark Mark, and then again when he died. But he couldn’t bring himself to, because part of it felt like it was his fault; Regulus took the role that Sirius himself was born into – and in many ways, Sirius felt as though he forced his little brother into this. And in the end, it cost Regulus his life.

But Remus, looking at Regulus now; having faked his own death, defected from not only his family’s legacy but also the reign of the 'Lord' that he had sworn himself to, all whilst helping the other side; how different were the two brothers, really?

Twin Renegades.

“Sirius is beside himself.” Remus admitted quietly.

Regulus seemed pained by this admission.

“I wouldn’t have given her back yet if I knew it wasn’t safe.”

Remus’ heart stuttered. “Wait, you – you’re the one who brought her to Godric’s Hollow?”

He was responded with a single curt nod.

“But, but how? How did you know? The house is...”

“Y/N. She had described to me what she called ‘location seven’. I apparated her there.”

Remus balked. Each Order team had several secret locations they would be able to travel to in case anything went sideways during a mission. Remus wasn’t as familiar, seeing as he was the only Order member who could attend his particular missions, but he had heard his friends discussing it before. Even Lily and Sirius didn’t know the areas of James and your secret locations; they were for your safety, and your safety only.

“Location seven was the cottage in Godric’s Hollow?”

“No, it was the wooded area behind it. I could feel the familiar sense of a fidelius charm nearby, so I brought her as close to it as I could before I ran, we...” Regulus heaved a sigh, “we had fought our way out, we’d barely made it.”

“Where is she now?”

“She’s safe.”

“Regulus.”

“I’m sorry, Lupin. You may not believe me, but I am. I... I saved her because I could not watch the woman my brother loved die in front of me. I saved her for him, but the other’s discovered I had rescued her, and suddenly it became much bigger than him. I couldn’t just return her at the time.” Regulus admitted.

“The last time you saved her, she was hardly safe. How do we know she’s safe now?” Remus pleaded.

Regulus grimaced. “Again, the others had known I had rescued her last time. This time, they do not know she is here. They do not even know I am here.”

“How is she safer with you than she is at home with Sirius? With us?”

“You moved five members of the Order plus an infant with a bounty on its head into one house. If they had gone searching for Y/N and found you, it would have been devastating for the cause.” He explained. “Listen; you will escort the Dark Lord to the Potter’s cottage in two days. He plans to attend with you as Peter Pettigrew, alone; he will show up unknowingly out numbered. He goes nowhere without Nagini, and we will be able to destroy the last horcrux before finally ending the Dark Lord’s reign of tyranny. She will be home to you soon.”

“What about you?” Remus asked.

Regulus’ eyebrows furrowed. “What about me?”

“When this is over, what about you?”

Regulus looked Remus up and down. “I hardly think it matters.”

“Of course it does; of course you matter.”

Regulus’ eyes turned stormy. “Do not pretend to know anything about me, Lupin. I have never once mattered; not to my brother, hardly to my parents until I was the last one standing, never to Dumbledore, and rarely to the Dark Lord, lest my family’s money benefitted his cause.”

“You matter to Sirius.”

“Enough!” Regulus shouted, seeming to forget himself. Remus was sure he’d never even heard of Regulus having ever raised his voice before. “Do not fuck this up, Lupin. We have one chance to end this.”

And with a quick spin, Remus was left in the dense woods alone. He hadn’t noticed how late it was until now, the darkness seeping into his bones leaving him chilled in the late October evening.

It didn’t exactly go well, but it sure could have gone a lot worse.

He walked towards where Regulus had been standing and noticed a small piece of parchment laying in the wet leaves. He picked it up and unfolded it.

“Stay safe. 1, 2, 3. V.”

It could have gone a lot worse.

October 30th

Regulus sighed – he felt exhausted from the meeting with Remus Lupin yesterday. He hated raising his temper, it made him feel like Sirius; it made him feel like a Gryffindor.

Regulus’ cat form pushed past a vine covered gate and entered a grandiose stone outbuilding before shifting back to his human form.

“Can Kreacher get master a drink before Kreacher leaves?”

Regulus sighed. “You should not return until this is over, Kreacher. My brother is surely not happy with you.”

The house-elf scoffed. “Kreacher is not afraid of blood-traitors. Besides, Kreacher serves the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black; Kreacher belongs at Grimmauld Place.”

“Underestimate my brother, Kreacher, and it will be your head on the wall.” Regulus muttered.

“Now cousin, do try to keep your patience.” Narcissa said as she opened the door to her hidden library located in a small building behind the gardens of Malfoy Manor.

You sat on a Victorian style settee in Narcissa’s library with a babbling Draco on your knee as you cast colourful butterflies above him, causing the toddler to coo and clap.

“We’re in.” Regulus announced, causing your head to snap forward and Draco to make grabby hands at him. “This ends tomorrow.”

Continue to part seven here.

369 notes · View notes

sebasluv · 1 year

Text

how i imagine sebastian and his emotional support hufflepuff:

(also why is he doing the rock’s eyebrows 😭)

hufflepuff stands for fluff, fight me (jkjk)

it is no surprise that you, a hufflepuff, got adopted by a young slytherin boy

every slytherin needs an emotional support hufflepuff, am i right?

it was a stormy night for students in hogwarts, and sebastian wasn’t having the best time, to be honest

walking around the castle before curfew is just the right thing to calm his mind…unless, he was met with a new problem

“why can’t this- work-“

“what are you doing?” sebastian appeared out of nowhere from the dark. glancing over your shoulder, he met with your enemy.

“erm- just trying to get a look of the stars tonight, astronomy class is trying to kill me,” you huffed as your telescope was placed on the table.

“you know that the storm isn’t going to make it better, right?” he shifted his weight onto one feet, resting his shoulder against the wall.

“i know, i just- it’s due tomorrow,” you sighed.

“let me help you, i know a spot,” he shuffled onto his feet.

“c’mon, m’ not gonna kill you, i am not that type of slytherin.”

“as if…led the way, please”

to say that sebastian adopted you from then on isn’t quite much of a lie

ominis noticed your presence from that day, he can feel that sebastian is bringing you around more often.

he wasn’t the biggest fan of strangers but you are someone special for his best friend, he knows that.

wandering around he castle has never been so entertaining before you met these two

of course, you are like the “mother” to the group

y/n: sebastian, no

sebastian: sebastian, yes

he loves loves loves love taking you out for some butterbeer

“you’ve got a foam on your lips,” he chuckled as he almost choked on his butterbeer.

“hey- that’s the secret to enjoying a butterbeer,” you huffed.

“fine, fine, just let me-“ he reached a hand out to wipe a foam off your lips.

“…thanks”

“a single mom who works two job-“ jk 💀

caring for them is the best thing in your life but also an tiring thing to do

feeding them, packing their bags, and definitely making sure sebastian have enough sleep.

“please, sebastian, when was the last time you’ve gotten enough sleep?”

“i dunno, like last five years?”

“c’mon,” you held out your hand as you dragged towards a discreet place in the library. setting him down, you patted your boy on a couch with all of the pillows you could find around there. “sleep tight, you need it,” you smiled.

“it’s just six o’clock,” he yawned.

“yes, it is, I’ll just be reading right there, a nap won’t hurt anything,” you ruffled his hair up as his eyelid fluttered.

of course, you can’t get in their common room. unless…

yes, sebastian broke you in (and yes, everybody knows you are the certified hufflepuff)

“are you sure this is a- good idea?”

“of course, it is always a good idea if you have me,” he chuckled as he lead your way down the slytherin dungeon. “aspiration…”

the empty brick wall suddenly shook and a slythering sensation turned into a shiny silver serpent. climbing up the wall, it reveals a hidden dark door, opening at your gaze.

“c’mon, go on,” he held your hands and dragged you in.

always caring for them, checked. even if it means one of those late nights, working on an assignment.

“you’ve got your notes and parchments?” you looked at them.

“yep” “yeah”

“and your inks?”

“…”

“c’mon, stop forgetting them, please,” you moved skillfully around the mess to put their inks in their bags.

“thanks, y/n”

of course, they are there when you needed them as well.

if you need a help jinxing someone, you know who to call

no one, i repeat, NO ONE. will treat you the wrong way (ahem, especially sebastian)

“her name is Persephoney,” a jacked headed slytherin stuck his tongue out at you and poppy.

“shut it, or you will regret it, perhaps you don’t mind if I just pulled your hair like…that?” you snickered back.

“what could a hufflepuff like you do? run along and tell the professor?”

“she could and do something much worse, be greatful for that,” sebastian backed you up, reaching a hand to rest on your shoulder. “now, back up.”

“ah, if it isn’t the charming slytherin, got into one of those hufflepuff’s jinx? how disgraceful,” he chuckled.

“at least she knows that a beast worth much more than an empty minded person, back up.”

“fine…let’s go,” without a second look, the slytherin was out of sight.

…

“you alright? poppy?”

“thanks”

“thank you, sebastian, he better know that us, hufflepuff, can do something far worst. we just have the decency to hold it back,” poppy giggled.

“yep, i know you lots can do unimaginable damages”

and you know i like to end it with a heartwarming great hall imagines

the great hall is buzzing with many students and delicious foods. but sebastian’s eyes will always find their ways wandering around the black and yellow table.

but finding you in one of them, comes as easy to him as breathing a fresh air into his system.

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow imagines #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy imagines #hogwarts legacy

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misguidedasgardian · 9 months

Text

Storm's End

HOTD MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader

Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you

Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, thoughts about dying, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, mention's of children maiming, mentions of virginity loss and blood. READER MIGHT BE DEAD, OR MAYBE DEPENDS, COMPLETELY UP TO YOU, dragon's death though :(

+18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.5 k

Notes: I know this has been done before, but… this is my way to look at it. You are the daughter of Rhaenyra, she sends you to Storm’s End instead of Luke, and this is what ensues

You know you should have turned back the moment your dragon took flight away from Dragonstone.

There was something in the air

Grandmother Rhaenys, and your dear brothers flying by your side soothed you, made you remember you were not alone, but they soon parted way with you, Jace went North, as did Lucerys, Rhaenys went west, and you continued south

Towards Storm’s End

Those stormy clouds in the horizon must have been your first dark omen, but you didn’t pay attention to them, or to anything else really

Your mind was set

You had begged your mother to let you helped her, so she send you to the closest place, a short fly, a message delivered, and then you could return.

But what were you going to say?

you wanted to believe your mother’s words, that Lord Borros was going to be honored to receive you there, you were a young princess, no real threat, only a messenger, he was going to respect you, you were going to say your piece, and then you were going to take his answer back to your mother, as easy as that.

You held tightly onto your dragon’s reins as you flew amidst a cloud with rain within, getting you drenched within second

Karnax, under you, roared softly, feeling your uneasiness, trying to make you feel safer, and you did.

It was not relief what you felt when you saw the tall tower of Storm’s End in the horizon, it actually felt like your stomach had turned on itself, but that is the second sign you decided to ignore

Karnax was small, bigger than Arrax and a bit than Vermax, but he was still small enough to land in the outer courtyard, and you did

Your saddle was wet, and you slid right off of it, landing heavily with your boots in the ground.

You jumped when the light of a thunder brightened the sky for just a second, and then moments later the thunderous sound made the floor shake.

Karnax whined when you touched him, trying to soothe him, he was nervous, and soon you learnt why

Another, even louder, more monstrous sound made you flinch, and when you looked over the huge defensive walls of the castle, there she was. Vhagar raised her head, dwarfing the constructions covering her, growling as a warning.

She was indeed the largest and most dangerous dragon in the world

And she was here

That means that Aemond was also

Probably doing the same thing as you, trying to rally Lord Borros to his cause, to his side

To the Usurpers

The prospect of seeing your uncle made you tremble in fear, you had always been afraid of him, ever since he lost his eye, even more so after the last time you saw him

You have eavesdropped a conversation in which he had asked for your hand in marriage and Rhaenyra had crudely rejected him, he did not reacted well

It did not help that it was the same day of the Driftmark trials

He had frighten you so much your mother send you back the same night, only a few weeks away

“Sobes Karnax, Lykyri”, you whispered soothingly, patting her snout, he whined, worried, but it was too late now, you couldn’t back down, you wondered if you were trying to calm him, or expected that he would sooth you back.

So ignoring your body, mind, heart, soul, dragons, the weather and everything in existence around you, you decided to walk towards the guards guarding the entrance to the Castle

“I have a message for Lord Borros from Queen Rhaenyra”, you said quickly, before you lose your momentum, they barely nodded and started walking, you followed suit, trying to fix your drenched clothes

The Storm had catched up with you.

You could still hear it raging behind you as you entered the main hall of the castle of the Baratheons, you had never been here before, and it amazed you the immensity of it, it was rounded and at least three stories tall, ending in a huge vault over your heads, front here you could see multiple passages leading to the rest of the construction, but you could look no more

“The Princess (Y/N) Velaryon”, presented the guard, “Daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen”

Queen

You thought bitterly, as you found Lord Borros seated on his throne.

But your gaze was immediately taken away

Aemond

He stood at the side of the throne, standing straight by one of Borros’ daughters, as he heard your name he immediately turned

He looked dangerous

Dresses head to toe in black leather, his hair combed perfectly, the eyepatch cutting his face in half

You wondered if he could notice you trembling from that far

You guessed he could since he looked terribly amused at your presence, his naturally curved lips smirked.

But you didn't came here for him, you turned your gaze towards to the Lord of the Stormlands

“Lord Borros, I brought you a message from my mother, the Queen”, you didn’t realize you had a stone inside your throat until now, almost choking in our own words, you were thankful for the acoustic of the place or else nobody could have heard you

“Yet early this day I received an envoy from the king”, he said then, “so which is it? King or Queen? the House of the dragon doesn’t seem to know who rules it”, he was already crossed with someone or something and you cursed yourself for being so weak, sounded so pathetically

And then he laughed at his own joke and you shook, perhaps he was laughing at you

You looked fleetingly at Aemond

Perhaps to make sure he stood where he was

He frightened you

You begged the gods to make him stay there, as he stood, unmovable like the statues of Dragonstone

“What’s your mother’s message?”, the Lord of Storm’s End did not take well to your distraction, so you tried your best to reach with your arm and this one not to shake, to prove to everyone there, to Lord Borro’s daughters, him, your uncle, and the court, how scared you were

A soldier took your message hastily and gave it to the Lord

He sighed, frustrated, and call in the maester

In a silly second you thought fleetingly of your brother’s giggles when you tell them the rumors were true and indeed Lord Borros didn’t know how to read, you remembered fleetingly that you suggested it was because he had hit himself many times on the head while jousting

But you shook those thoughts away, when you felt the small hairs in the back of your hair stand up, as Aemond’s deep gaze was on you

For a second, only the wind making the stones whistle as sing could be heard, and then the ruffling of paper the maester made while reading the letter.

Your uncle’s gaze didn’t leave you for a second, so you tried to look away from him, only stealing glances to make sure he hadn't move

That he was still several feet away from you, with people in between you

You didn't want him near you

He frightened you

He hated you

You knew this

“Remind me of my father’s oaths?”, asked Borros, enraged, you turned to look at him, scared, “King Aegon at least came with an offer, my banners and swords for a marriage pact”

Poor girl, you thought briefly

“If I do what your mother bids, who of my household will you marry, girl? uh?”

“My lord…”, you could turn this around, you could, you needed to try, to explain, to plead to his honor, “I’m not free to marry, I’m already betrothed to Cregan Stark”, you said, and you were not completely lying, your big brother was flying North now with the proposal in his hand

Aemond hummed mockingly at your words, so your gaze landed on him again.

He still was amused, even more so now, you shook in your place, trembling like a leaf in the autumn winds

“So you come with empty hands”, said Borros, more angry than before, “go home pup, and tell your mother the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog she can whistle up in need to set against her enemies”, he said rapidly

You had failed

You tried to swallow your tears as the stone in your throat but you just couldn’t do it

“I shall take your answer to the Queen, My Lord”, you whimpered, and when you looked at the pity in the daughters’ faces you realized your voice did sounded broken and defeated

Weak

You turned to leave, sad because you failed, but relieved that this had come to an end

“Wait”, you trembled in your place, stopping immediately at your uncle’s call.

You turned slowly, fearfully, to look back at him

“My lady Strong”

You whimpered

“Uncle?’, you were acknowledging him, but it sounded more like a question

Weak

“Did you really think you could just fly upon the realms, trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”

You are the thieves

But the words never reached your lips, instead you wanted to hide your head between your shoulders, almost feeling ashamed

That much power Aemond had over you, the power to make you feel like you were in the wrong, and he was in the right

Ever since that night

When your little brother took his eye

The girl by his side took a step back, like giving him space, and that made you take a step back, less and less things could protect you from your uncle, your hand instinctively went to the pommel of the short sword your stepfather Daemon had begged you to carry, you didn’t know how to use it, but nonetheless… it couldn’t hurt

“I will not fight with you uncle, I came as a messenger”, you said, your voice, again, broken, weak, with fear and sadness

You had failed

“A fight would be little challenge”, he said dismissively

“I’m aware”, you admitted, if it came to blows, you stood no chance against his incredible skill with the sword, even if you meant a fight with words filled with poison

“No…”, his hand went to his eyepatch, and form one single movement he took it out of his face, revealing a sapphire where his eyeball should be

You whimpered, taking a step back

It had taken you by surprise, not that you found him monstrous, or anything, it was just… incredible

“...You brother is indebted to me”

You really wished, in the bottom of your heart, that he would have let this go, if not for your brother, for himself, but he didn’t he hasn't, and that made him so incredible dark, resentful, twisted and mean

And that is what you were most afraid of

“It was an accident…”

“I want you to pay instead”, you whined, taking a step back

“I have nothing…”

“A small payment in blood will suffice…”, you looked at Lord Borros, alarmed, he clearly was not meant for THAT, did he? Did he plan on slaying you there where you stood?, in front of all this people?

“...I will not breed you”, a single tear escaped your eye at his crude words, “I plan on gifting our bloodied sheets to your mother”, you looked back at the Lord of Storm’s End and he looked back at you, concerned

This was the man supposed to wed one of his daughters

“No!”, you cried, in defense of yourself

“So you are a craven as well as a traitor, as your brothers…”

“Not here!”, Borros finally intervened, but still you could not breathe, you were terrified

You never wanted to believe the gazes your uncle gave you were ones of desire, and dark intentions of bedding you, you never thought…

“GIVE YOURSELF TO ME, OR I WILL TAKE YOU BASTARD!”, you shrieked as he advanced on you with certain and long steps, you stumbled backwards trying to prevent him getting near you

“NOT IN MY HALL!”, the thunderous voice of Borros made him stop in his tracks, “the girl came as an envoy, I will not have bloodshed of any kind beneath my roof”

Lord Borros’ words came of little comfort, not when your uncle had taken a dagger of his belt and was threatening you with it, the storm outside, the lightning made his sapphire gleam meanly

“Take the princess back to her dragon, now!”, commanded Lord Borros and you, giving a titanic effort, managed to walk (and not sprint at high speed) out of the hall

Aemond watched you go and smirked, making the dagger dance in his hand

You were his to take

He looked back at the girl he had begun to court to notice she was far away from him now, clearly scared of him

“I will be back shortly to resume negotiations”, he said meanly

“Don’t bother”, said Floris, standing now next to a guard, she would not like to be courted by him now, “I’m not interested in a man that is pure bark and no bite”

When you stepped outside, the storm was raging, you were drenched in second, wet from head to toes, but you couldn’t paid no mind to such things now

Karnax felt your fear, how frightening you were and he advanced towards you whining and growling desperate

“Lykiri Karnax” [calm], “gūrogon īlva hen kesīr” [take us out of here]

Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong, you let your tears fall freely now that nobody could notice nor see you, another Lightning broke the skies from afar and when you turned…

Vhagar was gone

There was no way he could have left before you, it couldn’t, it wasn’t possible

He was in negotiations with the Baratheons, you had to go, so he wouldn’t catch you.

You thought he was going to let you be, because it had been your brother who took his eye, not you

Oh how wrong you were

“Why?”, you cried, trying to make sense of it all as you climbed onto your dragon’s saddle, “Sobes, Karnax”, you called, he growled but obeyed you, he also wanted to get out of here.

You needed to get back to your mother, to Dragonstone, to your brothers and stepfather, they needed you, but you somehow knew that wasn’t going to be possible, a crippling fear took a hold in your body, you felt like you could barely move, your body being so tense.

The rain hit your face with strength, the highers you flied, you only secured your staps tightly and held into your reins hardly

Karnax flapped his wings with difficulty, but he succeeded in keep flying, you wanted to relax, you were flying away from Storm’s End, the Baratheons, your uncle, everyone, but something told you it wasn’t going to be that easy

You wanted Karnax to fly faster, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach

You whimpered in fear

something was wrong, terribly wrong

You felt a low growl coming from above and you cried, lowering your head, not wanting to face it, face him, and what he was going to do to you once he had you within his grasp

He was coming for you

And the moment you took to the skies, you raised the bet, he was not simply going to take you now, he couldn't not flying like this...

He rode the largest dragon in the world and you one of the smallest

You grabbed into your reigns and hoped Karnax would fly faster, but you couldn’t ask more of him of what you were already asking

You gained the courage to look up and you got a glimpse of a large looming shadow over you

Why?, you whimpered, crying harder, and Karnax growled

Why you?, you loved him once, you were friends, you played, and read together as kids, you had promised you could share little Karnax, and he had agreed.

But he got his own dragon, the largest in the world, and from that moment he pushed you aside and called you a bastard despite your Targaryen features and the fact that he had never called you that

He almost killed your brothers and then Luke took his eye.

After what transcurred in Driftmark with the Queen and your mom Aemond had come to your room in the hour of the bat, you woke up with a knife in your cheek and him over you, his hand in your throat

You never knew why he had come to your chambers and not luke’s or jace’s

He always knew you were the weakest one

You were a woman, he was a man

You looked ahead and shrieked once again when you saw Vhagar coming at you amongst the dark stormy clouds, at full speed

“NO!”, she changed her trajectory, going up in the last second, her feet and claws passing right by you, you could even feel them passing right by your head

Please

You were going to die

You could hear Aemond’s laugh, ricocheting amongst the clouds

He was amused by you

He hated you

And now he was going to kill you.

Karnax growled, scared too out of his mind, you could feel him, deep in your gut, the pure and sheer instinct to fight or fly kicking in, and both of you opting for the latter

just when you thought you had lost him, you heard the flap of huge wings behind you, you turned to look, and Vhagar huge open jaws appeared trough the storm, ready to swallow you whole.

But Karnax was fast, and Vhagar liked to play with her food

“I see you!”, you heard from behind, and the sound that Vhagar’s jaws made when they close grabbing into thin air made your skin prickle, “Libōnos”, [bastard]

Your body was tense as a bow, you could barely feel your legs that were tightened around your saddle, the water, despite your leather cape, has got under the clothes, and froze you all over, that you felt like you were made of ice, you could barely move, your fingers were not going to survive this even if you did

Vhagar was still behind you as you commanded your dragon to fly downwards, to gain speed

You made him turn and twist in the air, but to no avail, the monstrous Vhagar had her eyes set on her prey and she was not going to let go, you use your whole body and strength to pull her to make her change her trajectory from one moment to another, she might be bigger, but you were faster

Deep down you knew it was all going to be for nothing

He was coming for you

He hated you

And you could hear his sick laugh as he was laughing in your ear

You soon could make out the sea under you and as you looked to your left there was a cliff splitted in two, a risk in the middle, you had a change, you might be able to flight in between, but Vhagar wouldn’t

Your dragon read your mind and went there, seeking refuge

It has worked, you looked back to see VHagar fighting to make her heavy body fly upwards, your uncle’s grunts cut trough the air reaching you, it was insane

He was insane

He had a grudge for 8 years, boiling and simmering in rage, anger, and sadness, and you were the one that was going to get the worst of it

You felt relieved even, that it was you and not sweet Lucerys

Better you than him

“JĒMELÃ GÊLŸNI ENKÂ!”, he screamed [you owe me a debt], “BYKA!”, little one

Karnax flied diligently through the cliffs and rocks, you looked up and he was still there, chasing you, looming over you

“I lied!”, you heard then, “I will give you my bastard”, a pain spread through your chest, all your sorrow, pain, fear, exploding, taking a hold on your body, preventing you from breathing properly, even with the skies falling upon your head, with your life in your uncle’s hands.

You screamed when Karnax again flew in open skies as the protection of the cliff was taken away. It was a scream of agony, frustration, and fear

Oh so much fear

But the gods, or whomever, granted you a small mercy, the clouds were thick and the sea was a few feet under you, they concealed you from your predator chasing you.

You took a shaky, long breath, despite the lump in your throat present since you left Dragonstone

You needed to get yourself together

Keep flying North, soon the skies will clear, you couldn’t let fear control you….

Fear

The last thing you heard was Vhagar growling, and Karnax high screeched when the biggest dragon in the world sank her teeth in him, catching his legs and tail, completely destroying him.

“AH!”, you barely got a scream yourself, she didn’t catch you, but so did half your dragon, now dead.

“VHAGAR! NO! NO VHAGAR!”, is the last thing you heard

The next?

The white noise of water, all around you, the cold grasping you, hugging you tightly, not letting you move as the water moved around you taking you prisoner

For better or worse, Vhagar’s had completely destroyed the saddle, releasing you, and now you were there, by a gift or a curse from the gods, amongst the dark tides of Shipwreck bay, sinking slowly, finally you didn’t feel more fear, only the instinct to survive.

You were a true Velaryon at last.

#misguidedhouse #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x alys rivers #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen #misguidedhotd #house of the dragon #hbo house of the dragon #house targaryen #targaryen!reader #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #house of the dragon aemond

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 5 months

Text

Patience, Zaldrīzītsos

At their pre-wedding tourney, Aemond sits in the stands with his sister – his betrothed – and holds her hand to help calm her while they watch the fighting, and continues to do so all through the dinner. He escorts her back to her chambers to kiss her goodnight, but kisses turn into something more…

Pairing: What is Broken!Aemond Targaryen x Fiancee & Sister!reader

Warnings: kissing, dry humping

This work is a part of my 12 Days of Smuff event! Read the rest here.

My Masterlist

Patience, Zaldrīzītsos

Prompt: Hand holding & dry humping

Two knights crashed together, the sound of clanging armor, shattering wood, and snapping bones echoing throughout the arena. Screams of horror and pain followed swiftly after.

In the Royal Box, the youngest of the King’s daughters cringed at the sight, tears forming in her dark eyes as she covered her mouth with a hand to suppress her scream.

She hated tourneys, hated fighting, hated any kind of conflict. She had not attended a tourney since the games hosted for her eldest brother’s thirteenth nameday, when she’d wept so loudly that several horses had bolted into the Kingswood. Her parents and the Small Council swiftly agreed that she would not attend any further events, but she was nevertheless required to be at this tourney.

For this tourney was to celebrate her. Her and her brother, and their upcoming wedding.

Three days from now, she would marry her older brother, her beloved Aemond, in the Grand Sept. The High Septon himself would bind their hands with ribbon and declare them one before the Gods. It was the fulfillment of a lifelong dream and the culmination of a love she had felt her whole life.

She did not remember when she began loving Aemond. She just did—all her life.

She loved staging mock battles between the felt dragons they played with in their nursery. She loved following behind him as he explored the castle and holding onto his hand when they found a particularly dark or ominous place (including their grandsire’s study one stormy night). She loved watching him train with Ser Cole, growing from an awkward boy to a strong and graceful man. She loved the adoration she always saw in his eyes – or eye, after that horrible night on Driftmark – when he looked at her. She loved the Valyrian nicknames he bestowed upon her all her life.

Haedus. Zaldrīzītsos. Maegītsos. And now, raqiarzītsos.

Aemond did not give anyone else nicknames, only her. He’s always made her feel special, loved, and safe.

Just as he did now.

As squires began hauling away the body of one of the knights, his blood leaving a trail in the sand, Aemond set his hand on top of hers and squeezed. “You do not have to look, raqiarzītsos, if it upsets you so.”

She turned towards him, allowing the sight of his gentle, handsome face to blot out the memory of the violence she’d just witnessed. He smiled at her and inclined his head slightly. “Sȳres. Ñuha nēdenka riña bony issa.”

Aemond sighed in satisfaction as he watched a blush color her cheeks. He leaned in closer, until she could feel his breath on her face. “Only a few more bouts, I promise. Then, we can return home.”

Unable to meet his adoring gaze for fear that the intensity of her affection for him would cause her to do or say something foolish, she looked down at her lap. “Yes, but we will return only to attend another feast. As the guests of honor, we will be expected to stay until it ends. I look forward to that as much as I did to this.”

The squires had begun raking the sand to hide the stain of blood.

“I know,” Aemond said quietly, entwining his fingers with hers and bringing her hand to his mouth, though he did not dare kiss that lovely hand in so public a place. “But I will be there the whole time, I promise. I will not leave your side.”

Aemond was true to his word, never leaving her on her own for a moment. He held her hand through the rest of the tourney, squeezing whenever he sensed she needed his reassurance and distracting her with his sweet words when blood was spilled. He held her hand the entire journey back to the Red Keep, gently brushing his thumb against the back of her hand. He held her hand at the feast whenever he could, only letting go so he could eat or when a particular dance required it.

And he held her hand as he walked her back to her chambers late that night, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her temple when she leaned her head on his shoulder, exhausted from their day.

“Can I stay in bed and sleep through tomorrow?” she asked with a yawn. “I have no desire to watch a second day of violence. Besides, it would mean one less day of waiting before I become your wife.”

They reached the door to her chambers, and Aemond laughed as he opened it and led her inside. “I’m afraid Mother would be upset if you did. Though if it were possible, I would happily join you.”

Halfway to her vanity, she turned to run back to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a sleepy, mischievous smile. “You would join me in sleeping, or you would join me in bed?”

“Oh, raqiarzītsos,” Aemond groaned, pressing his brow to hers. He fought his instincts but at last relented and kissed her more passionately than was strictly allowed for an unmarried pair. “You know how much I desire you, desperately so. But we must refrain until we are wed.”

She whined pitifully in protest, burying her pouting face in his chest and inhaling his familiar scent of wind and brimstone. “But I don’t want to, lēkia.”

Aemond sighed and embraced her, nuzzling into her hair. “Neither do I, hāedus. But we must. I will not dishonor you.” She huffed and leaned further into him. “You must only sleep by yourself thrice more, and then I will be there to hold you every night for the rest of our lives.”

“You promise?” She lifted her chin and looked up at him. “I shall be very upset if you don’t.”

Aemond gave a breathy laugh before shaking his head in bemusement. “I cannot promise that I will never be away from you. The King and the Small Council may send me away on some mission, or…”

He frowned, brow creasing. That shadow followed them all their lives. The possibility that their half-sister Rhaenyra wouldn’t cede the crown to their elder brother Aegon and that she would attempt to dispose of them, so as not to have any threats to her ascension.

They never spoke of it aloud. But the threat still hung over each of them.

Aemond cupped her face in his hands, and she felt better – safer. Home.

“There may indeed be times when we have no choice but to be apart,” Aemond explained as gently as he could. “But every night I am able, I will be there to hold you. And I will do whatever I must to return to you as swiftly as possible.”

Overwhelmed by his promises and devotion, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a searing kiss. He held her back as tightly as he could, and as their hips met, she felt it.

“Aemond…” she separated from him though he chased her lips with his own. But she simply stared down at the hardness she’d felt pressing against her and the bulge it formed against his trousers.

He laughed. “I told you I was desperate.”

All the tidbits she’d learned of what went on between a man and his wife began to swirl in her head. She did not know much, but she’d heard many of Aegon’s crude comments over the years and some less crude from Helaena. Even Aemond, when they would sneak away together to kiss, had mentioned several things he wanted to do with her.

She hated not knowing. And she did not want to feel like a fool on their wedding night.

“Show me,” she asked breathlessly. Aemond balked, and she scrambled to find a reassuring response. “You don’t have to take my maidenhead, but just show me what I must do. I do not want to… to disappoint you on our wedding night.”

Aemond was silent for a long moment, his eyes searching her face as he absentmindedly petted her hair. She feared he would be disgusted with her for wanting him as much as he wanted her. That he would scold her, call off the wedding, or even hate her.

He didn’t.

He kissed her.

He kissed her, pulled her even closer, and began to roll his hips against hers.

“On our wedding night,” he instructed between sticky kisses, “you must kiss me. Just like this.” He held the back of her head in his hands and tilted her back, allowing himself to lean over her and press his lips upon hers with more force.

When she groaned, clutching at the lapels of his jacket as her knees weakened, he brought a hand to the small of her back to support her. “Then, I will take you to our bed, like this.”

Then he hoisted her up, linking her legs behind his back. Something about the movement allowed him to better press into some spot between her legs that sent sparkling pleasure through her veins. As he carried her towards her bed, she buried her face in his neck and began grinding against him, chasing that feeling.

“Next,” he said just before he laid her down in the center of the bed. “I will carefully remove every scrap of silk and lace they wrap you in and every bit of gold and jewels they drape over you until there is nothing left to hide you from me.

She moaned as he climbed onto the bed and hovered over her once more. She did not know what was more exciting, Aemond above her or his delightful words. “What about you?” she managed to ask. “Will you remain in your clothes?”

“Absolutely not,” he laughed, kissing every inch of her face he could. “For me to do what I want with you, I will have to be bare, as well.”

“Can I undress you, as you did for me?”

“You can do anything you’d like, raqiarzītsos,” he answered with a groan. “But I hope you do it quickly, so I can do this.”

Aemond seized her knees, pulling them up and apart so he could slot himself between her thighs. It was a perfect fit, as if they were made for each other. He only savored it for a moment before he began moving again, sliding his hips against hers.

“Oh!” she squeaked as he again rubbed against that same magic place over and over and over again. With each movement, her noises of pleasure became louder and louder until Aemond had to clamp a hand over her mouth to contain them.

He smiled down at her, his face as flushed as his as he moved faster and faster. “You must be quiet, riñītsos. You don’t want someone to hear us, do you?” She shook her head. “Do you think you can be quiet?”

Her eyes were wide as she considered for a moment. Then she sighed against his hand and shook her head ‘no.’

“Then what shall I do with you?”

She mumbled something Aemond couldn’t understand with her mouth covered, so he removed it with a smug smile. “What was that?”

“Can you use your lips instead of your hand?”

Aemond’s hips stuttered, but he smiled widely. “Oh, you wonderful little girl.”

Their mouths did not part until her body began to tremble all over, and she felt so hot that she thought for a moment she’d developed a fever. She tossed her head back, trying to scream, but only a long whine emerged. A burning pleasure spread throughout her, and she knew she would only ever feel like this again when she was with Aemond. He, too, seemed to experience something similar, a silent scream tearing from his throat as he pressed her hard into the mattress.

After their breathing steadied, Aemond grabbed her face to kiss her one final time.

“Three days, raqiarzītsos. Then I will have you entirely, and you will have me.”

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fanaticsnail · 1 month

Text

Snail’s Fic Rec List

Masterlist Here

Hi everyone! I haven't done one of these before, but I thought I should! I love these fics, and find myself revisiting them often because I adore them.

I add to them as I go

One-Shots:

Roronoa Zoro

Black Tea, With Honey by @bby-deerling.

Themes: mutual pining, a final push to engage, first kisses, soft Zoro

Did I Miss It? by @writingmysanity.

Themes: birthday, drinking, fluffy, soft Zoro

Not A Chance by @willowbelle.

Themes: NSFW, jealousy, flirting, possessive!Zoro x afab!reader.

Guilded by @eelnoise.

Themes: NSFW, drinking, smug!Zoro x afab!reader

Blackleg Sanji

Parted Lips by @turtletaubwrites.

Themes: eating disorder, soft Sanji, understanding Sanji, sweet domesticity.

Confidence by @gingernut1314.

Themes: NSFW, age gap (older reader), confident!afab!reader, small angst, alcohol use

Koby

Safehouse by @discordantwritings.

Themes: NSFW, subordinate!afab!reader x captain!Koby, unrequited love - requited love, one bed trope.

Dracule Mihawk

Fixing What Ifs by @sordidmusings.

Themes: old friends, friends to lovers, soft Mihawk, kissing, flashbacks.

A Dark and Stormy Night by @thus-spoke-lo.

Themes: suggestive, flirty Mihawk, rain, gothic castle

The Hat Stays On by @sordidmusings.

Themes: NSFW, desperate!Mihawk x afab!reader, pure smut

Let Go and Grip Me Tighter by @sordidmusings.

Themes: NSFW, Mihawk’s strength, sub!afab!reader, Dom!Mihawk

Buggy

Switching up Roles: part 1 & part 2 by @sordidmusings.

Themes: NSFW, sub!Buggy x Dom!afab!reader, relief, comfort

Donquixote Rosinante

The Things That Go Unheard by @indydonuts.

Themes: white day, Valentine's Day, mutual pining, date day

Masochism Tango by @cinnbar-bun.

Benn Beckman

Themes: NSFW, afab!reader, the love of corazon, intensity.

More Than Enough by @standfucker

Themes: NSFW, soft-dom!Corazon x afab!reader, established relationship

Two Days by @jintaka-hane.

Themes: existing relationship, longing, kissing, flashbacks, suggestive themes, pretty.

Unspoken Affections by @icy-spicy.

Themes: idiots in love, refusing to label it, mutual pining.

Together by @cinnbar-bun.

Themes: dad!Beckman x mom!reader, they're parents to the Red-Hair crew, pure fluff, pining, longing.

Distractions by @discordantwritings.

Themes: NSFW, mutual pining, flirting, kissing, afab!reader

Give (in) & Take (me) by @sordidmusings.

Series:

Themes: NSFW, flirting, drinking, pining, longing, Dom!Beckman X brat!afab!reader

Multiples x reader:

Rotation by @standfucker

Themes: NSFW afab!reader, Eustass Kid, Massacre Soldier Killer, Heat, Wire, drug use, acts of revenge, slaughter, brutality, flirtatious dialogue

Songbird by @gingernut1314.

Themes: buggy x f!reader, enemies to lovers, strawhat!reader, singer!reader, NSFW.

The Heartless Giant by @cinnbar-bun.

Themes: Sir Crocodile x gn!reader, prisoner!crocodile x royal!reader, villain!crocodile, storyteller au

The Luck Child by @gingernut1314.

Themes: Buggy x f!reader, storyteller au, fairytale au, buggy is lucky, fantasy themes.

We’ve All Got Needs by @turtletaubwrites.

Themes: Zoro x afab!reader x Sanji x Robin, NSFW, strawhat!afab!reader.

Pain Management by @thus-spoke-lo

Themes: doctor!Law x afab!reader, medical impairment, semi-malpractice, NSFW

Masterlist Recommendations

Bby-deerling

WillowBelle

DiscordantWritings

EelNoise

Gingernut1314

Thus-spoke-lo

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horeformilfs · 4 months

Text

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind

Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem! Maid Reader

TW: Blood, Violence, Anger, Mention of Eating Disorders, Angst

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

The imposing doors of Dimitrescu Castle creaked open, heralding the return of Lady Alcina Dimitrescu. As the tall, elegant figure made her way through the grand foyer, the echo of her footsteps reverberated through the vast halls. The atmosphere seemed charged with an unspoken tension.

Y/N, the head maid of the Dimitrescu household, stood in the dimly lit corridor, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns on her apron. She had spent the entire day managing the affairs of the castle, all while pondering the peculiar absence of Lady Dimitrescu's usual morning presence.

When Alcina swept into the dining room, her daughters, Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela, were already seated. Y/N approached them, her eyes searching for an explanation. "Where is Lady Dimitrescu?" she inquired, her tone respectful yet tinged with concern.

Bela, the eldest of the three daughters, looked up, her gaze meeting Y/N's. "Mother left for a meeting with Mother Miranda before dawn," she replied, her words carrying an air of indifference.

Y/N's brow furrowed in confusion. Alcina had never left without informing her, especially for matters concerning Mother Miranda. It left a subtle ache in her chest, a silent question lingering in her mind.

Throughout the day, Y/N carried out her duties, the silence of the castle amplifying her contemplations. Her mind replayed the moments leading up to Alcina's departure, searching for a reason, an explanation that remained elusive.

As dusk settled over the castle, the heavy wooden doors groaned once again, signaling Lady Dimitrescu's return. The air seemed to thicken with an unspoken tension as Y/N caught a glimpse of the anger etched on Alcina's face.

The tall woman's steps were sharper, more forceful than usual, as if carrying the weight of unresolved frustration. Y/N, ever attentive, approached with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "My Lady, is there anything you require?" she inquired, her voice steady.

Alcina's eyes, stormy and unforgiving, met Y/N's. "You should have known better than to let things fall into disarray in my absence," she reprimanded, her tone cutting through the air.

"I assure you, Lady Dimitrescu, everything has been overseen meticulously today," Y/N responded calmly, her gaze meeting Alcina's unwaveringly. The tension in the room seemed to escalate with each passing moment.

A scowl etched itself deeper into Alcina's face, her anger palpable. "Do not presume to speak back to me, maid," she hissed, the words dripping with disdain. Y/N, however, stood her ground, her patience waning.

"Forgive me, my Lady, but I won't stand idly by while unfounded accusations are thrown my way," Y/N retorted, her voice steady, yet an undertone of frustration lingered.

Alcina's eyes flashed with an intensity that bordered on fury. "You dare to challenge me?" she exclaimed, the sharpness of her tone cutting through the air.

Y/N's irritation reached its peak, and she snapped, "I only speak the truth, Lady Dimitrescu. If there's an issue, let it be known so I can address it."

The confrontation escalated, each word exchanged adding fuel to the growing inferno. Alcina's daughters, drawn by the rising commotion, entered the main hall with concerned expressions, their eyes shifting between their mother and the head maid.

Bela spoke up, "Mother, what's happening?"

Cassandra added, "Why are you arguing with Y/N?"

Before Alcina could respond, Y/N, fueled by a mix of frustration and confusion, uttered something that struck a nerve. Alcina's eyes flared with a dangerous intensity, and in a moment of unbridled rage, she unsheathed her claws.

The metallic sound echoed through the hall as Alcina swiped at Y/N, leaving a searing trail of pain across her face. Y/N stumbled backward, a scream escaping her lips as she clutched her injured face.

The daughters rushed to Y/N's side, their expressions a blend of shock and concern. Alcina, her claws still unsheathed, stood there, stunned by the gravity of her actions.

"What have I done?" Alcina whispered, the realization of her hasty actions sinking in. The once imposing figure now seemed vulnerable, and regret flickered in her eyes as she looked at the consequences of her unchecked anger.

Bela, her expression marked by concern, handed Y/N a cloth to stem the bleeding, her eyes reflecting a mixture of sympathy and disapproval. Cassandra and Daniela exchanged disapproving glances with each other and then turned their attention to helping Y/N to her feet.

"Let's get you to your room," Cassandra suggested, her tone filled with empathy.

Y/N, still processing the shock of the incident, shook her head. "No, not our shared room. I want to go back to my old room."

The sisters exchanged a glance, a hint of worry flickering in their eyes, but they respected Y/N's wish. Together, they guided her through the dimly lit corridors to the room she once occupied before her relationship with Alcina.

Once inside, Bela took charge, helping Y/N clean the wound with a gentle touch. Y/N remained silent, her mind overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events.

Bela, breaking the heavy silence, spoke softly, "It's going to be okay, Y/N. We'll talk to Mother about this. This is unacceptable."

Cassandra nodded in agreement. "She can't treat you like this. You deserve better."

Y/N, still in shock, whispered, "No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have pushed her."

The sisters exchanged glances, their worry deepening. Daniela spoke up, "Y/N, this isn't your fault. No one should be treated like this, especially not by their partner."

Bela added, "You're Alcina's girlfriend, and she shouldn't have reacted that way. We'll make her understand."

After ensuring that Y/N was settled in her old room, Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela left her to rest and made their way to their mother's quarters. The atmosphere within the castle was thick with tension, and the sisters were determined to address the issue at its source.

As they entered Lady Dimitrescu's room, they were met with a sight that caught them off guard. Alcina Dimitrescu, the formidable mistress of the castle, sat on the edge of her bed, her usually composed demeanor shattered. Tear stains marked her face, revealing a vulnerability the daughters rarely witnessed.

Alcina looked up, surprise and concern crossing her features. "What happened? Why are you all so upset?" she inquired, her voice strained.

Bela, her frustration evident, spoke up first. "Mother, we need to talk about what you did to Y/N."

Cassandra added with a stern tone, "She's hurt, and it's because of you."

Daniela, her expression mirroring her sisters', continued, "Bela managed to stop the bleeding, but we won't know the full extent of the damage until it heals. Mother, this is not acceptable."

Alcina's eyes widened, a mix of guilt and realization settling in. "Y/N? What did I...?" Her voice trailed off as the weight of her actions sank in.

Bela crossed her arms, her anger evident. "You attacked her, Mother. With your claws."

Cassandra's gaze remained unyielding. "She doesn't deserve to be treated that way. No one does."

Daniela, her voice stern, concluded, "We're furious, Mother. This isn't how you should handle things."

Alcina, realizing the gravity of her actions, lowered her gaze. "I didn't mean to... I was angry, and I lost control."

Bela's tone remained firm. "That's not an excuse, Mother. You need to fix this."

As the hours passed, Alcina, wrestling with the weight of her actions, mustered the courage to approach Y/N's old room. The grand halls of Dimitrescu Castle felt eerily silent as she reached the door and tentatively knocked.

A hushed, broken voice emanated from within, "I don't want to talk right now, Alcina. Please, just give me some time."

Alcina's heart sank at the sound of Y/N's quiet plea. The usually strong and composed head maid now sounded fragile and wounded. The reality of the situation hit Alcina with a force she hadn't anticipated. She respected Y/N's request, understanding that she needed the space to process the events that had unfolded.

"I understand," Alcina responded, her own voice carrying a mix of regret and sorrow. The door remained closed, a physical barrier reflective of the emotional distance that had suddenly grown between them.

The Lady of Dimitrescu Castle, with a heavy heart, turned away from the door, leaving the corridor shrouded in a somber atmosphere. Her usually confident strides now carried a hint of hesitance as she retreated, realizing the depth of the damage she had caused to the bond with the person she held dear.

As Alcina disappeared down the corridor, the echoes of her footsteps mirrored the echoes of the shattered trust between her and Y/N. The castle, once a symbol of grandeur and strength, now harbored the lingering traces of a fractured relationship, awaiting the healing touch of time and understanding.

A few weeks passed, each day stretching into a monotonous routine of solitude for Y/N. The door to her room had remained closed, a silent barrier against the outside world. One day, a soft knock echoed through the chamber, drawing her attention.

Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela stood on the other side, expressions carrying a mix of concern and determination. "Y/N, we have someone here to take a look at your injury," Bela informed, her voice gentle yet resolute.

Y/N hesitated, her gaze fixed on the floor. "I don't want to see Alcina," she replied, her voice a whisper.

Cassandra assured her, "It's not her. Please, just let them in."

Reluctantly, Y/N opened the door, allowing the sisters and an unexpected guest to enter—Mother Miranda. Y/N's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and anger, her resentment towards the woman whose meeting had set off this chain of events palpable.

Miranda, her demeanor composed, spoke with a calm authority, "I've come to check on your injury, Y/N. May I?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. Miranda approached, examining the scar that marred Y/N's face. The questions she posed were gentle, yet Y/N's anger simmered beneath the surface.

As the examination progressed, Miranda's expression shifted subtly, revealing a somber realization. "The injury has started to scar over, but I'm afraid the vision in your right eye has been lost," she disclosed, her words hanging heavily in the air.

The weight of the news struck Y/N, and tears welled up in her eyes. The daughters exchanged glances, a mixture of empathy and frustration etched across their faces.

Once the examination concluded, Miranda and the daughters left the room, leaving Y/N alone with her emotions. As the door closed behind them, the dam of suppressed anger and sorrow burst, and Y/N cried out in frustration, mourning not just the physical loss but the irrevocable changes that had befallen her life.

In the dimly lit room, Y/N grappled with the harsh reality of her lost vision. Frustration and sorrow built up inside her until it erupted in a storm of emotion. Objects flew across the room, crashing against the walls, and anguished screams echoed through the castle halls.

On the first floor, the sounds reached Alcina's ears, her sharp senses detecting the turmoil unfolding above. Concern etched her features as she turned to her daughters. "What's happening? What's going on up there?"

Bela exchanged a worried glance with her sisters before reluctantly responding, "It's Y/N. She just found out about her eye."

Alcina's eyes widened in realization, the weight of guilt settling in her chest. "I need to go to her," she declared, her urgency evident.

Cassandra placed a hand on Alcina's arm, holding her back. "No, Mother. She needs time. Let her be."

Alcina's eyes flickered with a mixture of anguish and determination. "I can't just stand here. I need to be with her."

Daniela added, "Give her space, Mother. We'll be here for her when she's ready."

The distant sounds of Y/N's anguish continued, a heartbreaking symphony that resonated through the castle. Alcina, torn between the instinct to comfort and the understanding that she needed to respect Y/N's space, reluctantly acquiesced. She lingered on the first floor, her gaze fixed on the staircase leading to the source of the tumult, a silent prayer echoing in her heart for the strength to mend what had been broken.

As the weeks crawled by, Y/N remained ensconced in the solitude of her room, an unyielding barrier separating her from the world outside. The sisters, growing increasingly concerned, approached their mother with their worries.

"Mother, Y/N hasn't been herself. She refuses to eat, talk, or see anyone," Bela expressed, her concern etched across her face.

Alcina's brow furrowed with worry. "Have you tried talking to her? Maybe she needs someone to reach out."

"We've tried, Mother, but she won't let anyone in," Cassandra added.

Determined to break through the walls Y/N had erected, Alcina nodded. "I'll talk to her. Give me some time alone with her."

The next day, Y/N cautiously returned to her duties, attempting to immerse herself in work while steering clear of Alcina and her daughters. The whispers of the other maids reached her ears, their gossip fueled by the visible scar on her face. It was a constant reminder of the events that had unfolded.

One day, as she went about her tasks, a particularly cruel maid approached, taunting her about the scar. Y/N, already on edge, couldn't suppress her irritation and retorted. Before the situation could escalate, Alcina materialized, her presence commanding attention.

"What is going on here?" Alcina's voice cut through the tension, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the scene.

The maid, caught off guard, stammered, "I was just... having a little fun, Lady Dimitrescu."

Alcina's gaze shifted to Y/N, awaiting an explanation. Y/N, though visibly distressed, spoke up, "She was making comments about the scar on my face. I couldn't just stand there."

Alcina's expression hardened, a protective glint in her eyes. "Such behavior is unacceptable. Leave us, now."

The maid scurried away, and Alcina turned her attention to Y/N, her demeanor softening. "Come with me. We need to talk."

Alcina led Y/N to her private chamber, the heavy door closing behind them, creating a cocoon of relative privacy. The room, adorned with opulent furnishings, felt both familiar and distant as they settled into an uneasy silence.

Alcina, her concern palpable, observed Y/N closely. The once vibrant head maid appeared frail, her features worn and her form diminished. Finally, breaking the silence, Alcina spoke gently, "Y/N, you've changed. You're not taking care of yourself. What happened?"

Y/N, still shrouded in her own turmoil, remained silent, her eyes fixed on a distant point. Alcina, persistent, continued, "You've lost so much weight, and your health has taken a toll. Please, talk to me."

The words hung in the air for a moment before Y/N's composure crumbled. She broke into sobs, the weight of her emotions pouring out in a torrent. Alcina, her stern exterior softening, moved closer and wrapped her arms around Y/N, offering a comforting embrace.

Y/N, between gasps for air, managed to utter, "Everything is falling apart, Alcina. I can't... I can't see, and everyone treats me differently. I feel so lost."

Alcina tightened her hold, offering a steadying presence. "You're not alone, Y/N. I'm here for you. We'll get through this together. Please, tell me what happened."

As Y/N poured out her heart, detailing the loneliness, despair, and the weight of her physical and emotional pain over the past weeks, Alcina listened with an understanding gaze. Her touch remained a steady anchor, a reassurance that Y/N wasn't alone in the darkness that had consumed her.

"It's okay to feel this way, Y/N," Alcina murmured, validating the tumult of emotions Y/N had laid bare. "You've been through so much, and it's perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed."

As Y/N's sobs gradually subsided, exhaustion claimed her, and she felt herself drifting into a fatigue-laden slumber. She hesitated, apologizing as she began to withdraw from Alcina's embrace, intending to retreat to her own solitude.

Alcina, however, gently tightened her hold. "Don't apologize, Y/N. You can stay if you want, and you don't need to be alone tonight."

Y/N, both surprised and grateful, managed a weak smile. "I don't want to impose."

"You're not imposing, Y/N," Alcina reassured her. "This is your room too."

Y/N, looking up at Alcina with a hint of shock, asked a question that had been haunting her thoughts. "Do you still want me to be your girlfriend, even though I'm... hideous now?"

Alcina tilted Y/N's chin, meeting her eyes with a tender gaze. "Y/N, I didn't fall in love with you because of your looks. I fell in love with your caring and empathetic personality, the way you get along with my daughters, your confidence, and perseverance. You're still the gorgeous woman I fell in love with, changes and all."

In the soft glow of understanding, Y/N felt a weight lifted from her shoulders. It was a pivotal moment, a testament to the resilience of their connection.

As Y/N let out a weary sigh, Alcina's gaze softened. "You need to take care of yourself, Y/N. I want to help you, starting with your eating. We can take it at your pace, no pressure."

Y/N hesitated, her eyes reflecting both gratitude and trepidation. "I... I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not a burden, Y/N," Alcina affirmed, her voice gentle but firm. "We're in this together. I'll support you every step of the way, at your pace. You're not alone anymore."

Gently, Alcina lifted Y/N and guided her to the bed, ensuring she was comfortable. She left momentarily to prepare for bed, the room bathed in the soft glow of the evening. When she returned, Y/N had shifted, her eyes heavy with fatigue.

Y/N moved closer to Alcina, who welcomed her with open arms. Alcina, with a tender touch, pulled Y/N close, wrapping her arms protectively around her. Y/N, feeling the warmth of Alcina's embrace, couldn't help but apologize.

"I'm sorry, Alcina. I shouldn't have pushed you that day after the meeting," Y/N whispered, a trace of regret in her voice.

Alcina, with a gentle touch, guided Y/N's face to meet her gaze. "Draga mea, you have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault. It was my mistake, and I should have never let it escalate to that point."

The room was enveloped in a serene quiet as Alcina, their faces mere inches apart, made a promise that hung in the air like a vow. "It will never happen again, draga mea."

In that moment of shared vulnerability and understanding, Alcina's eyes flickered to Y/N's lips. As anticipation lingered, Alcina leaned in, closing the distance between them, and pressed a soft, tender kiss upon Y/N's lips. Y/N responded, reciprocating the kiss with a warmth that bridged the gap of the painful past, her fingers gently lacing into Alcina's raven-colored curls.

The kiss lingered in the air for a timeless moment, a delicate exchange that spoke of forgiveness and a shared commitment to moving beyond the shadows of the past. As they broke the kiss, their foreheads met, a shared sanctuary of quiet understanding and the weight of unspoken emotions.

Alcina's eyes, still locked onto Y/N's, reflected a blend of sincerity and tenderness. The promise lingered in the air, a silent vow that carried the weight of redemption and the hope for a different future. The room seemed to hold its breath, cocooned in the aftermath of the shared connection.

Softly, Alcina pressed a gentle kiss on Y/N's forehead, a symbol of reassurance and protection. Y/N, touched by the tender gesture, rested her head in the crook of Alcina's neck. In this intimate closeness, Y/N breathed in the scents that defined Alcina — the rich undertones of wine, the lingering fragrance of her perfume, and the faint hint of cigarettes, a distinctive blend that was uniquely and unmistakably Alcina Dimitrescu.

The room, once a witness to turmoil, now became a haven for two souls seeking solace. Alcina's fingers traced gentle patterns on Y/N's back, a soothing touch that spoke volumes of unspoken understanding. The quietude was only broken by the occasional crackling of the fireplace, casting a warm, flickering glow that danced across the room.

In the silent exchange between them, words seemed redundant. The complexities of their shared history were reduced to the simplicity of this moment, where forgiveness, love, and the promise of a different tomorrow unfolded in the gentle interplay of their breaths.

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dope-trope-105 · 1 year

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cregan stark x rhaenyra’s daughter. she flies to winterfell to gather support for rhaneyra but she falls head over heels for cregan as well. could you add that she had a past relationship with aemond ( you don’t have to though)

Like Stormy Seas, Like Rough Clouds

Cregan Stark x Velaryon! (Strong) reader

A/N: The reader is still not completely over Aemond, but she realises he was not what she wanted, or she was not what he wanted. She has the typical Strong brown hair-brown eyes appearance.

Warnings: Strong language, abusive relationship, mentions of death, some angst.

Word count: 2.7k

The cold wind felt like daggers of dragonglass on your face as you gazed at the rough seas that surrounded your home. Dragonstone was not a cheerful place, the war had made it more glum. Your mother had locked herself up in her chambers the day Daemon came with the news of Lucerys’ death. You didn’t understand her pain, but your own crushed you inside. It broke your soul, took your joy, and rendered you unstable. The pain of losing a brother was great, but the pain of losing him to someone you once loved more than life itself tore at your entire being. You felt like a shell, your memories with him ran through your mind like a play.

You had your eyes closed as you breathed in the scent of a flower you hadn’t seen in the gardens before, it smelled sweet, but different from the others. “My lady seems to be enjoying herself,” came the smooth voice of your uncle. “Tis’ not every day mother nature visits one with a new treat, uncle,” you said, holding the flower up to his slender face. “Letting your guard down like this for all to see? The stranger may send you one as well,” he said, mocking you but taking the flower from your hands nonetheless. “It’s sweet, isn’t it?” you asked. “I’ve known sweeter things,” he said, his eyes looking down upon you as he relished in the fact you knew what, or rather, who, he meant.

You remembered how you had craved his attention at the keep. You had been friends with Aemond when you were children, and you had felt yourself dangled in a noose between your love for him and your love for your family the day Lucerys butchered him. Aemond refused contact with you after that. You found yourself at the keep again as you turned ten and seven, your mother had wished for you to celebrate you becoming a mature woman with your grandsire. You chased Aemond like a lost pup for your entire month-long stay in the castle. Aemond played along. And his play became a reality as he found himself taking your maidenhead in his chambers one night. He had begun to love you. As much as a damaged man could.

“We cannot do this any longer,” you cried. “Do you not love me?” asked Aemond, his voice cold as his back was turned to you. The whole family had supper that day together. You sat beside Helaena next to the head of the table where Aemond sat. Jace had set his eyes upon you the entire time, sneaking you off to the side to ask you if something had occurred between you and your uncle. It had scared the soul out of you, and you had gone to the one person you admired so much you hoped he'd show you the way. Unfortunately for you, Aemond was set on doing anything but. “If my mother finds out-” “What of it?” he spoke over you. “I have claimed you,” he said. “No Lord would want a whore who’s been bedded by her uncle, no one will love you as I,” he said. Tears streamed down your face as each word he said came as a jab to your heart. “You do not mean that,” you said, wiping your tears as he turned. He opened his arms to you as you reluctantly found yourself in his embrace. “I mean every word I say, you are mine,” he whispered to you. “No one but I will love you,” he held you tight.

A heated discussion had been tearing the rocks of Dragonstone as Daemon wished for nothing but revenge. Who stood for the Queen, and who against? It was not clear. You had begged and begged to have your mother let you fight for her. She had ushered you to your chambers, you speaking for your rights as she refused over and over again. You only stopped asking at the shock of her harsh palm on your cheek. You held your face, looking at her with great confusion. “I will not lose another child, my only daughter to this war,” she had said, leaving you with a burning reminder on your face that you would never be allowed to fight for her. Your stomach churned at being called her only daughter, your mind reminding you of the little Visenya you would have loved, a little girl you would teach womanly things to, braid her hair, tell her she is no less than a man, teach her the histories and philosophies that made your world. Memories of all sorts ran haphazardly through your head, your sweet moments with Aemond, your tears for Lucerys, your step-father's anger towards your mother, and nothing seemed to calm your racing mind. The rough waves flowed on par with your thoughts. The ground rumbled beneath you as you turned around. “Sagon gīda, gēlenka,” be calm, silver. You had claimed the magnificent Silverwing when you were only ten and three. She had been your everything since then. She was your anger, your wrath, your joy, and your fire. She was your dragon. And you mounted her in the dying light of the Sun taking off for the North. Your mother had said no, but after incessant begging from both you and Daemon, she had reluctantly agreed.

You felt your fingers numb despite the layers of clothing you wore as you flew higher up North. You were a dragon, you were fire, and you weren’t made for the cold. Silverwing made her landing near the castle of Winterfell, the Northmen gazing at your dragon in awe as all men did. You wore a black dress, its sleeves up to your wrists and its neckline up to your jaw. Golden embroidery spread across the expanse of your chest. You wore a few layers under it, but it seemed to not save you from the biting winter one bit. Your dark hair was tied halfway up behind you, wild from your flight, gold resting amongst the dark strands. Your palms and fingers were raw and bleeding. You never wore riding gloves, and you suffered the consequences. You’d rather have raw palms than lose the sensorial bond between your dragon and yourself.

SIlverwing had given your identity away as the guards opened the gates for you, offering you a slight bow. You nodded at them. You were escorted to where the Lord of the North sat. Your presence was announced as you entered the darkly lit hall. Cregan Stark was sitting on a high chair as he watched you walk to the centre of the room.

“Good morrow, Princess, we are delighted to have you at Winterfell,” he said to you. “Good morrow to you as well, Lord Stark, I thank you for your graciousness,” you said. You knew power when you saw it. You saw it in your mother, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. You saw it in your stepfather Daemon, the Rogue Prince, and a sliver of it in your past lover, Aemond. And now, you saw it in the wolfish man that sat in front of you. He was a large man, with skin like the snow and hair like onyx, matching stubble on his face. His eyes were grey like the storms you often saw at Dragonstone.

“What brings you to the North, princess?” he asked. His voice was deep, holding the air of authority that made the young girl hidden under your burdened heart giddy. You cleared your throat, quieting your own thoughts, lifting a scroll in your hand as one of the guards came to collect it from you.

“Lord Stark, as you are aware, your father, the late Lord Rickon Stark, had pledged fealty to my mother, the Queen. With the unfortunate passing of my Grandsire, my half-uncle has usurped the throne from my mother and claims to be King of the seven kingdoms. I’ve only come here to assure you remember your father’s oath,” you said. Your voice held confidence. Cregan had been watching you intently as you spoke, his eyes flicking to the scroll in his hands only once as he quickly scanned over the words.

“Of course Princess, I will honour the oath my father pledged to your mother, House Stark is loyal to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. We will provide you with what you need at Raven’s ask, be it men or refuge, or be it our undying loyalty,” he said to you, with clarity in his voice like he didn’t need to go over this in his head for even a moment.

“Thank you, for your support my Lord. I shall report this to my mother immediately,” you said, making a turn, readying yourself mentally for another long flight. “If you do not mind Princess, it is a harsh Night, why don’t you stay here at the Castle, you may fly on the morrow,” said the Lord. You thought it over. He was not wrong, the temperature would only get colder with the night. You did not wish to die from the cold before the war even concluded. “Then I will gladly make my stay here,” you said.

The guards had led you to a room for the night. You sat near the fire, so close to the flames you believed the hair on your head would be scorched, and you almost thought you saw your fingers darkening with ash. Your head whipped to the door at a harsh knock. “Princess? May I come in?” came a voice. You knew it was Lord Stark. “Yes of course,” you said, smiling sheepishly when the door cracked open and his eyes landed on your crouched figure near the fire.

He chuckled, nodding to a woman behind him. The maid approached you, a blanket of fur lay in her hands. “Tis’ a coat for you, I had assumed the cold must be too trying of you,” he said, entering the chamber. You smiled at the maid, who quickly put the coat around you. “Not that I wish to seem meek, my Lord, you had assumed right. I fear I would’ve ended up falling into the hearth had you not brought me this surprisingly soft coat,” you said, eyes widening at the sheer delicate touch of the blanket of warmth on you. You took your place on a chair in front of him, though still remaining close to the fire.

“I understand, cold like this does not suit all, especially those who are used to being around fire,” he said, a glint in his eye as he said it. You smiled at him. “I assume you’ve met Silverwing from afar,” you said. “She is a beautiful creature, although I fear I’m not one to see her for much beyond her ability to leave me nothing but a scorched corpse,” he said. “She will not hurt you, my lord, at least not in my presence,” you laughed, taking the glass of wine he poured you. “If you wish, I can arrange for supper here, it is only I in the castle,” he said. “If it isn’t too much trouble,” you requested. “Of course,” he said, calling out to one of the guards.

Moments later, some maids brought trays full of delicious bread and different meats and vegetables. The both of you ate in comfortable silence, occasionally exchanging words. There was something so simple in this moment, a comfort between the both of you that you hadn’t experienced in a while. “If you do not mind, may I ask you something?” he said. “Of course,” you replied, intrigued eyes looking up at him. “I’ve heard dragons have a close bond with their riders, it is said they can feel what their riders do, has anything as such been indicated to you by your own?” he asked. You thought it over for a moment.

Silverwing was very protective of you, but she would get more protective if you were on your bleed, she would get more aggressive when you were agitated, and she would make those purring sounds when you felt comfortable. And she despised Aemond. She hated him near herself, and near you. She never attempted to harm him, but she made her distaste of him quite obvious, same for most of your enemies. “In some ways, I believe it is true, her protectiveness and agitation in some situations do indicate what you say, but I do not believe this holds true for all dragons, only for some,” you said, and he nodded thoughtfully.

You gazed into his grey eyes, they were beautiful, not beautiful like the violet in your silver-haired family members, not prideful like Aemond’s, his eyes told stories of ships lost at stormy seas, of the rough clouds you flew through. His eyes showed curiosity and warmth, you felt like if you were to crawl into his arms, all would be well. You did not wish to sound like a silly girl one would view as nothing but a brood-mare of high status, but you wanted him to hold you and make you feel safe. You wanted him to tell you all would be right in the world, he would make it so. You wished to touch the soft hair on his face, to rest your head on his strong chest, to have him wrap his arms around you, to have him take your hands in his own. You felt so juvenile.

“What does flying feel like, princess?” he asked. “I could not say. It is the sheer terror of falling to death, freedom, and pleasure in solidarity, it makes me feel like a god, watching everything rendered so little from atop the sky. The sky looks so distinct above the clouds. It gets colder, the air lighter, breathing becomes more challenging, but the sky is so captivating, it is unlike anything you’ve seen,” you said. Lord Stark did not reply. He seemed to enjoy questioning you and thinking your answers over. All simple questions, but truly innocent. He did not have an evil sense behind his words. It was simple, like a warm fire licking at your skin in the snow-struck lands. There was no snark to decipher like the words of your stepfather, no mocking like your siblings, and no cunning like the words of the greens, no cunning like the words of Aemond. It was just curiosity, simple as that.

As he stood up to make his exit, you stood up as well. You looked up at him when he said, “You know princess, I would love to show the North to you, it is quite exquisite, though nothing compared to the sky above the clouds as you describe if you are willing to make your stay here longer,” he said. You smiled at him shyly. “I will think it over my lord,” you said.

You watched him leave, realising that since the moment you’d been in his presence, there was a calmness in your head. You did not feel the impending doom of war on you when you were busy staring into his eyes. A few maids came to remove the multiple layers of clothing from you, but you put on the coat again, curling yourself up in the blanket as well before you let sleep take you, and for once in a long time, you found yourself easily drifting to sleep in the comfort of the furs and your empty head. There was a warmth in your heart, and it almost made you want to stay in the North forever and forget about your duties, and your family. Maybe one day, when all of that was over, you could return to the North, to Lord Stark and ask for his hand in marriage. You would love to stay in the North, in a land white as clouds, in the warm arms of the warden of the North as you’d gaze upon his kingdom.

One day, you could learn what love truly meant, not obsession, not sly need, not a cunning need for control, love.

・．━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━．・

Hey guys, I've just started writing for some of these, I hope you like this one. I'd really appreciate it if you could comment on what I could do to make my writing better, but as of now, I hope you enjoy this, I'll try to post as soon as I can.

#cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x y/n #house of the dragon #dark aemond x reader

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yuriprince · 3 months

Text

lord give me the strength to not continue being a dick about every blorbo post on this godforsaken site defaulting to he/him prns

#‘make ur own post lol’ consider the following: stfu #how hard is it to use they. how Fucking hard is it to use they.#not everyone on this stupid fucking website likes men #stormy day at the castle

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kissitbttr · 4 months

Note

omg can i ask for reader and miguel’s baby turning 1, and they celebrate the birthday, like how kylie jenner did for her precious babygirl stormi🥹 like miguel getting his precious daughter large toys, lots of performers, large bouncy houses, blasting spanish music, and cutting the cake, i really hope u see this ask🥹🥹

side note: ur like my fav tumblr fanfic writer rn, you’re so gorgeous and i hope you have a good day🩷🩷

AAA THIS IS A VERY CUTE IDEA ANONNNN

my note: i am?? *gasps* you're so sweet!! i am so honored my lovieeee!! thank you so much🥺

one thing. she has only asked miguel for one thing and he just dismissed her like that!

the two of them had previously discussed in matters of their baby girl's upcoming birthday, and she had told--no-- threatened him to keep things simple and baby-proof,

guess, she should've known that he was prone to never really listen

"you are so. dead, o'hara" she grumbles, scanning over the party decorations in their backyard. the twenty-ish big pink presents put neatly in the corner, a princess castle bouncy house, a DJ deck, and food catering?

there are already people stopping by and busying themselves at the party, she finds a couple familiar faces like peter, jess, even the kids gwen and miles.

he puts his hands up in defense, staring at her with a playful smile. "I know I know I went a little bit overboard--"

"a little?!"

"but querida, come on" he snakes his hands around her waist, tugging her closer but her eyes aren't even on him. "it's our baby girl's first birthday-- I had to give her all"

"what would a baby need a DJ deck for anyway?" she asks with a frown,

''we can set it aside and use it for a band.. i already have two ready for the party"

her jaw drops open. "a band?!"

''ay okay stop with the dramatic expressions, princesa" he chuckles, kissing her forehead.

shaking her head, she replies "you already got her two barbie houses, a pink range rover for kids, brand new stuffed animals that look like they escaped from the damn zoo, Disneyland tickets and a cinderella's carriage baby crib... you spoil her too much"

he shrugs, "like i told you... she's my baby"

"and how much have you spent for all of that, hm?"

he envelopes her hands between his, kissing the knuckles to ease her. "don't worry about that. got too much money in my bank account and I will use it to spoil the fuck out of both of you."

a light smile spreads across her face. "she wouldn't even remember half of this miggy, you know that?"

"we'll record it and everything" he shrugs, looking around the party feeling proud of his work. "I want her to have the best birthday ever. not just this but the next one and the next one and the next"

she can't help but feel her heart soften. he is so full of love every time he talks about their baby, an ultimate girl dad.

"i can't imagine what you will do for her quinceanera"

he winces at that, head shaking at the thought. "don't remind me. i want our baby girl to stay little forever"

she chuckles at that, standing on her tippy toes to kiss his chin. "what an amazing father you are, my love"

his cheeks warm at the compliment, glancing down at her to give her a grateful smile. one that speaks how glad he is to have her by his side, to call her his, to hear those words coming from her lips.

the sound of a precious giggle distracts them both, craning their heads toward the source of the sound and seeing jess holding their baby girl in her arms. dressed in a pretty pink dress with tiara on top

y/n reaches out to make grabby hands at jess. "hello pretty girl! gimme gimme" picking sofia from jess's grip, earning a cute giggle from her,

"she couldn't stop pulling at peter's hair-- your baby's got quite a grip" she mentions before walking away with a smile,

miguel snorts at that, silently patting himself on the back for what his baby had done,

cradling her closer to her chest, y/n fakes a gasp. "eso hizo, no es asi? uncle peter probably deserved it"

sofia babbles more, clapping her chubby hands at the two of them. miguel chuckles at the baby's cute antics and the way his wife talks in a baby voice,

a lucky bastard he is,

"daddy did this all for you, mamas-- aren't you happy? yeah?" she coos once more, bringing sofia closer to Miguel,

''come here pretty girl" miguel's hands move to grab her tiny body, picking her from his wife's grip. a sigh of contentment escapes from his lips. "my little princess... aren't you the prettiest baby I have ever seen, hm? you got that from your mami"

y/n eyes the interaction between the two of them, her finger moves to sofia's hand which she grips it.

"she is so fluffy.. we have a chunky baby"

miguel frowns, feigning a fake offensive look. "you calling our baby fat, mi amor?"

rolling your eyes, you scoff at him. "she's cute like this... i like it..." she gives a loud smooch on her baby's cheek making her giggle more,

miguel bobs sofia lightly in his embrace, inhaling the scent of her shampoo while keeping his eyes on y/n.

none of this was ever planned. miguel had no clue that being married and having a baby would be on his bucket list. if someone would've told him four years ago that he would eventually settle down and have a family, he would tell that person to fuck off and how crazy that idea sounds. because marriage wasn't his thing,

but now? he would kill the entire universe for his girls

"what are you thinking, papi?" she asks, head tilting in curiosity when his eyes won't move away from her,

he stays silent for a moment, pressing his cheek against sofia's head as she toys with the collar of his shirt,

"vamos a tener a otro bebe" [let's have another baby]

i hope this is okay!! xx

#miguel o'hara blurbs #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara drabbles

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manias-wordcount · 27 days

Note

Hey!!! I was wondering if we could get some howl pendragon fluff? Maybe reader and howl showing a more parental side towards Markl? I will always live for a family dynamic haha!

Three's Company (Howl Jenkins Pendragon x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗮𝘄 𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 "𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗴𝗼𝗱" 𝘀𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀!! 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗰𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝘂𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 (𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝗟𝗢𝗟)

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Howl likes it dim and stormy and cool. Markl likes it bright and sunny and hot. So you comprise and suggest that the picnic takes place on a day with just enough cold and a nice, cooling breeze to help beat the summer’s heat.

As always, your boys agree.

Of course, there are some grumbles and some sly words here and there, trying to convince you to change your mind. As you’re leaning over Calcifer, trying to pan-fry some of the meat for the sandwiches, Markl pulls a chair up beside you under the guise of wanting to help. Of course, he can’t do without a sample of your cooking. And he can’t do without whispering in your ear that he thinks Howl could use some more sun. Naturally, you sent Markl always with a playful roll of your eyes as you told him to fetch a basket from the closet.

As he scampers away, Howl takes no time sliding up to you and wrapping his arms around your torso as he leans into you. He tries oh-so-very hard to be sly as he presses small kisses to below your ear, and reminisces about the times the two of you would spend napping in the sunroom as the castle travels across miles and miles of grass fields being doused in heavy rain. He tries even harder to entice you with a plan that involved moved the castle to somewhere with least a light rain storm and hosting the picnic indoors as you watch a storm roll by.

You just tutted and sent him to help Markl find the picnic basket instead.

With that, it doesn’t take you too long to finish up. Especially since Calcifer is starting to like the idea of getting a couple of lazy hours to himself once the three of you go on your outing. As you make the sandwiches and package up the little side dishes that Howl made earlier, you hear the two of them bickering with each other. Although Howl seems to be holding his own against the young boy, it still has you hiding your giggles as struggling to pack away the plates and utensils as you hear Howl argue about how nobody ever wants to do anything outside with him in the rain.

To his credit, he’s right. But you can worry about that later.

Because soon enough, you’re done with preparing the food, and you’re calling for your boys to come back. Markl comes sprinting back with the basket in hand, hoping to get you first as a last-minute resort to get you to tell Calcifer that the castle should be moved someplace “just a little sunnier! Please, please, pleaseee!” Howl comes in not too long afterward, but it’s just enough time to see you patting a pouting Markl’s head as the last of the sandwiches a couple of pieces of fruit fitted into the picnic basket.

For a moment Howl looks hopeful. As if he has a chance to get you to change your mind and break their tie in his favor. But at the sight of you passing the picnic basket into his hands as you reach for a light shawl to cover your exposed arms, that look of hope becomes quickly dashed.

But then you turn to your boys. They’re nice and cleaned up in clothes you know they can afford to get grass stains on. The look on their faces are just a little sour, but Howl is still cradling the picnic basket very, very carefully and Markl is doing his best to hold onto the picnic blanket he found, along with the couple of bottles of juice he has tucked under his arm. You give them a warm look and you smile nice and big and bright.

“Well?” You tilt your head to the side, a teasing lilt to your voice as your eyes jump back and forth between their gazes. “Any more objections? Or shall we enjoy the day?”

At that, both boys' cheeks start to redden. Markl looks away quickly, his pout growing ever so slightly more, but he finally relents and says he guesses he doesn’t mind if there are some clouds in the sky- so long as it’s not cool to play in the river, of course. On the other hand, the ever-so-collected Howl looks a bit embarrassed now that you’re joking about the two of them and their little tantrums. But he owns the blush adorning his face by meeting your eyes and offering out a hand.

“Thank you, my starlight,” He tells you, his sincere and gentle voice filling the room. It’s so honest and so earnest that you’re taken for a surprise just a teensy bit, before reaching out and placing your hand in his- an even bigger smile now spreading across your lips. “For planning this. For all that you do.”

“Yeah, thanks a bunch!” Markl is quick to follow behind Howl with his own expressions of gratitude. Although he can’t take your hand and help you down the stairs like Howl is (despite you telling Howl that he really doesn’t need to be doing this when you’re not even carrying anything), Markl offers up a look of excitement and appreciation so sweet and so pure, you completely forgot about how sneaky and sly he was trying to be earlier. Well, almost forgot. You’ll have to get on Calcifer for teaching Markl about all that later… “The food looks really good, so thanks for that too!”

With that, the three of you head to the door and step out of the castle. Calcifer calls a promise over Howl’s shoulder that he’ll look after the place, while you have to step further into the field of grass and flowers the castle is in to tell Markl to be careful as he runs off. But then you hear his laughter- the carefree laughter of a child. Of the boy you consider to be your son. And you let out a laugh too. It’s a tiny one. But it’s light, and it’s carefree. And it’s quickly joined in by Howl as he leads you to where Markl chose a spot to set up the picnic blanket.

The day is spent laughing. How many seconds? How many minutes? How many hours? You aren’t sure. But the day is spent without pouts on faces and complaints about the weathering being too much of this or too much of that. The day is spent telling stories and sharing jokes. It’s spent watching Howl point at different plants and quizzing Makl about what he knows. It’s spent with your point at your favorite clouds and your boy's guesses at the shapes that you do or don’t see. It’s spent with each other.

And that’s all that matters, truly

Though at some point, when you’re cuddled up to Howl, you whisper to him. It’s after all the food is gone. After Markl had kicked off his shoes and waded into the stream to look for nice rocks and tiny little fishies swimming along. It was after the two of them had agreed that today was the perfect day to waste with each other in complete and utter happiness. But it’s only after that- only after your bellies, and nice and full, and the cool breeze is starting to make you a bit too sleepy to do anything but curl right next to Howl and hold him that you whisper to him. Whisper how you promise you’ll do something with him outside the next time it rains.

He thinks for a moment, letting the wind pass you both by as a slow-moving cloud moves out of the way to spread its sunrays across your skin. He thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks. And just when you think that you’ve stumped him or he must not have heard you, he opens his mouth once more.

“I’d like to go dancing one day.” He says finally. His voice is quiet, but it feels so warm and so sweet and so safe that you swear that alone could lull you to sleep. “I’d like to go dancing with you one day in the rain.”

You smile at him for the umpteenth time that day. You look him in the eyes, and you smile at him, and only for him, and only because of him.

“Okay,” You promise him, the words barely passing through your lips like the wisp of a pretty breeze, hoping to take your voice far and wide. “I’d like that.”

And your Howl…your wonderful, beautiful, glorious Howl? He smiles back at you. Gently. Sweetly. Looking forever more and more like the very person you fell in love with so, so long ago as his hair sways slowly and his bright blue eyes bore into yours. Telling you how much he loves you. Cares for you. Adores you. All with his gaze. All while your eyes? Well…

“Thank you, my starlight.”

Would it be so surprising if you said they were doing the same?

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marshmallow-phd · 30 days

Text

Genre: Regency Gothic AU

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: A stormy night brought you to the manor in the middle of the woods. Nine strange men occupied its halls. They won't let you leave. A dangerous secret haunts this estate. Learning it might either be your saving grace or it could lead to the last breath you ever take.

Part: 1 I 2

Lightning lit up the thin curtains covering the two small windows on either side of the carriage. Thunder rumbled and you felt it deep within your chest. Tugging your silk cloak closer, you closed your eyes and prayed that the driver would get you through the storm. There was no one to comfort you, to reassure you that a little rain and noisy sky wouldn't delay your journey.

Your father had insisted you take your sister or even a friend, but the two day’s journey didn’t seem consequential enough to need a companion. Besides, what would they have done once you arrived? Your elderly aunt had only asked for you. From what you could decipher from her letter, she needed you to be a companion as she traveled to the southernmost coastal town. Apparently, it was now the ultimate fashion to travel to for the summer. Just the idea of rolling waves made your stomach churn. But what was worse was who else would be there–

The carriage jolted to the right. You spread out your arms, only barely catching yourself from falling to the floor. No sane person would have endured such dangerous weather. This storm had come from nowhere. Skies blue and cloudless as you had ever seen bid you farewell in the late morning. Most of the day's journey had been uneventful. Then the joyful light faded. Thunder shook the walls of the carriage. Rain pounded on the roof. When would you reach the inn? Bile rose up in your throat, burning the sensitive tissue as the carriage continued to rock violently. The horses neighed over the sounds of the storm.

The carriage shifted hard to the left. And kept falling. You slammed into the door, nearly opening it with the force. You didn't know what was happening. The floor was now the wall and the wall the floor. A downward momentum made it impossible to stand. Screams ripped at your throat.

Then it stopped.

The rain continued to pour and the thunder roared on but the carriage was still. Your legs wobbled as you slowly stood. With your palms, you pushed open the door. The thin wooden panel clapped against the outside of the carriage. Immediately you were pounded by the storm. Large drops pelted your face, obscuring your vision. It was dark. You could tell that much. And there were trees. In every direction.

You climbed out of the carriage, calling for the driver. Your feet slipped in the mud, but you managed to keep your balance–for now. The mud was thick and sticky as you trudged to the front of the carriage.

No. No, no, no. Both of the horses were gone. And so was the driver. Somehow, the carriage had fallen down a hill or ravine. With a storm this terrible, you needed to get to higher ground or risk possibly being carried away–or drowning. Clawing and digging your hands and feet into the soaked dirt, you climbed the hard incline back to the road.

Once you could make out the road, you called for the driver again. No answer. He was nowhere to be found. You needed to find shelter. The storm gave no promise of letting up. You wouldn't survive the night in this forest, even if you went back into the carriage. The only choice was to find sanctuary. You stared in the direction you believed you came from. Nothing but trees and darkness. You turned to the other choice. All the same–wait.

There was something... when lightning brightened up the sky. Your heart began banging in your ears. Spires, towers. Not trees. It was some distance away, but it was shelter nonetheless.

With near tears in your eyes, you picked up your skirts–your fingers numb from the cold–and hurried towards the castle that could be your saving grace.

*****

The manor was calm tonight. Odd, considering the amount of bodies roaming around these haunted halls. Only the beautiful storm outside and Chanyeol's sorrowful melody from the piano broke the silence. Jongin had draped himself over one of the arm chairs as he inspected the wine mixture within his goblet. The taste was… adequate. The cellar would need replenishing soon.

In the corner, a rather lax game of cards covered the small, round table. Minseok smirked at his winning hand. The faded wooden chips with bits of white painted around the edges were piling up in front of Yixing, who leaned back carelessly, sure of his next win. Little did either of them know that the youngest among them had a little... trick his sleeve. As the quickest, Sehun had perfected sleight of hand long ago. None had caught him yet.

A fire roared, coaling the usually gray and brown room in flickering orange. With how close he stood near the fireplace, Kyungsoo's silhouette was visible through his loose shirt. He leaned his palms on the mantel and let the warmth of the flames engulf him. Warmth was all they could feel after all these years. It could be an addiction so strong it was tempting to throw himself into the fire.

Junmyeon joined him at the fireplace, leaning his shoulders against the brick. The bite of the edge hardly registered in his mind. Pain of that measure... it was only a ghost that had nearly crossed over.

“Such strong thoughts for a night like this.”

Kyungsoo didn’t look from the fire, but raised a questioning eyebrow in response.

Junmyeon shrugged a single shoulder. “I can’t read minds, but it's obvious you're turning something over more times than a praying rock.”

“It's the same thoughts,” Kyungsoo murmured in his strange, monotone voice. “Always the same thoughts.”

“One day you will have to let it go,” Junmyeon sighed. “This is our existence now. And forever will be.”

“Acceptance of the present doesn’t erase the past.”

“But it does make the present more enjoyable.” The red liquid sloshed against the rim of the goblet as Jongin draped an arm over Kyungsoo’s shoulders. He wore a mischievous smile. A clear indicator of his true intention.

Junmyeon shook his head. “We’re not going out tonight. There’s nothing out and about in this storm.” Hunting in these conditions would wield no trophies. Tomorrow would be a better night.

“Jun’s no fun tonight,” Jongdae teased as he and Baekhyun emerged from the hallway.

“If you want to go out in this mess,” Junmyeon waved towards the front door. “Be my guest. Just don’t you dare get mud on the rug–”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Help! Please! Help!”

Nine pairs of eyes snapped to the echoing sound. None moved.

Bang! Bang!

BANG!

One of the double doors burst open and a figure fell to the floor, landing on its knees and palms. It looked up. A flash of lightning illuminated the face.

The face of a beautiful young girl.

*****

Your knees vibrated when they hit the wooden floor. Water fell from your loose hair that clung to your cheeks. The chances of the door opening when you pushed on the handle had been low–yet the barrier that kept you victim to the storm fell open and you crashed downward with it.

Greeting you in this strange hall were several men, their jaws hanging open in a mirror of your own surprise. More men appeared from a side parlor, curious as to who dared intrude on their evening. One, two, three–you counted nine total. Nine men. This was not ideal–a bit terrifying, really–but you didn't have a choice. The storm raged outside.

"P-please," you stammered past chattering teeth "The st-storm overturn-overturned the carriage.”

The men stayed silent as they exchanged unreadable glances. One raised a questionable brow.

"Jongdae, go run a bath," ordered the man closest to you. One of the shorter residents nodded and disappeared into the darkness that led into the rest of the manor.

That's what this place was. A grand old manor, not a castle. Isolated. When you'd first run through the rusted iron gate, you'd feared it abandoned. A long dormant instinct whispered that you might have been better off if it had been.

The first man approached, each motion slow, deliberate, and hauntingly graceful. He crouched down in front of you and captured your frightened stare. The fear in you began to melt away. He was… beautiful. Obsidian fell over his forehead in gentle waves. His tunic was of a fashion your grandfather would have worn. There was something strange about this man–all of these men. Something... different.

"Let's get you warmed up." He held his hand out and you were up on your feet before you even realized your fingers were resting on his. "Don't worry," he murmured. "You're safe here. My name is Junmyeon."

You nodded, somehow believing him, but unsure if you should. Through your violent chattering, you managed to stammer out your name in response.

Bang!

You jumped at the sudden noise. One of the other men had somehow appeared behind you to shut the door you'd fallen through.

"Thank you, Yixing," the man beside you said. The one named Yixing nodded and then shifted his eyes to you. “Come.” A hand pressed into the space between your shoulder blades and guided you down the hall, leaving a trail of mud in your wake.

The man led you down several halls until you reached an unoccupied bedroom. Red blankets draped the oversized bed. Matching curtains hung limply from the canopy. All of the wood was a dark sort, rich in color but not quite welcoming like other, brighter woods.

Jongdae emerged from another door on the other side of the bedroom. Steam rolled out after him as if it were following him for its next set of orders. “Anything else?” he asked drily.

“No, thank you.”

Jongdae strolled the from the room without a glance either of you and closed the door behind him. Your breath hitched in your throat. The two of you were… alone. It wasn’t appropriate. It was…

You looked to the man still with you, fear causing your heart to pound painful against your chest. You tugged your cloak closer to you, but it was soaked from the rain. Shivers violently raced down your arms and spine. The man didn’t seem to notice as he walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a long white cloth.

“These should suffice for tonight.” He held up the cloth for you to see. A nightgown. An old one by the cut of it, though thankfully it hadn’t been devoured by moths or mice. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He visibly suppressed a laugh at your small voice and waved you into the adjoining bathroom. Taking the nightgown, you tried your best to avoid his gaze. You scurried inside and shut the door.

*****

Junmyeon smirked at your mousy state. It was understandable why you were so frightened. The women of this period were warned of being alone with a man. And now you were alone with nine.

Nine very dangerous men.

The proper action for him to take was to leave your room now that you were safe inside the bathroom, but his feet didn’t move. Somehow, the storm had stranded you in their forest. What had happened to the driver, he wondered. Surely a gentlewoman such as yourself was not controlling the carriage. And yet, you were all alone. Circumstances were… ideal.

A small hiss echoed in the bathroom. It stretched out, along with the sound of sloshing water. Junmyeon frowned.

Hm.

He stood there for a few minutes more, listening to you sigh as your skin grew used to the scalding water. The sound of soap scraping against skin reached his ears, followed by more sloshing water. Soon, you would be getting out of the tub. Time to leave.

He emerged from the bedroom, careful to close the door as quietly as possible. Everyone had gathered out in the hallway since they were too curious about their visitor to go about their night. Junmyeon found Jongdae blending in with the cluster. He glared at him as he hissed, "The water was too hot."

Jongdae merely shrugged. Why would he care about water possibly being too hot? It would never hurt him.

On the opposite end of the group, Yixing cleared his throat. "What are we going to do with her?"

Junmyeon glanced at the door behind him. There was only one best option, for all their sakes. "Tomorrow morning, we will send her on her way."

The eruption was instant.

“Enough!”

In an instant, the hissing ceased.

Baekhyun huffed and folded his arms against his chest, collapsing against the wall. Jongin scoffed. "Such a waste."

“A waste that will keep this household from tearing itself apart,” Junmyeoun countered. It was an outcome none of them wanted. No one wanted to cause a fight, but resisting was difficult. The temptation was great. The quicker you left, the better off they would all be.

"Do you really think it’ll end so well?" Minseok’s mocking comment hung in the air. Silent agreements rippled through the air.

Junmyeon looked to Kyungsoo, whose answer was to look away. "No one touches her," he ordered. They all would try, he knew. But their strength would only get them so far. He stared down a few of them especially, so they knew he meant it.

Sehun pushed off the wall with a roll of his eyes. "Just get her out of here so I can get some peace."

Junmyeon started to call after him but was interrupted by a soft thud from the room behind him. Confused, he opened the door to find you lying on the floor.

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the-fiction-witch · 18 days

Text

Heat Of The Water

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n (Choose Your Own House) Rating - Smutty Word Count - 1290

Jacaerys walks the halls of Dragonstone the sounds of the wind, stormy sea and rain battering the walls and windows. Most had taken to bed for the evening to wait out the storm beside their fires but Jacaerys had been lingering in the dark alone in his room for so long his mind was turning to mush, he didn't want to disturb his mother and stepfather, not his brother's, so took a walk instead though the corridors towards the chambers of his betrothal Y/n, for hope he may perhaps get to wait out the storm beside her, perhaps comfort her and maybe even get a kiss if he was lucky

Jacaerys opened the door to Y/n's chambers and walked in, shutting it behind him. He had not realized how much he had wanted the company of his betrothed until now, and when he saw the way the wind was still lashing at the walls of the castle, he was glad he had joined her. He stood there in the dimly lit room for a moment, taking in the beauty of the sight before him. He then spoke quietly to her.

Jacaerys walks through her chamber seeing everything so warm and cosy for her, she had only been here a few months but she was getting very comfortable here on Dragonstone, at first he can't see her so moves deeper inside until he perks up hearing he gentle humming coming from behind a wooden screen

Jacaerys' pace slowed down as he heard the humming, his footsteps falling more quietly as he approached the source of the sound. He peered around the screen to see Y/n humming softly to herself, seemingly oblivious to his presence. He was struck by her beauty and felt incredibly drawn to her, his affection for her growing with each passing day. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he watched her for a moment, before finally letting her know he was there.

Y/n sits in the corner of her chamber, the wooden screen blocks her from the rest of the room, candlelight all that lit her, the sound of the storm still raging outside, Y/ns body sits inside a carved stone bathtub filled with hot steaming water her body concealed below, her hair pinned up to keep them from the water, she hummed to herself as she bathed unaware he was there

Jacaerys was immediately enraptured by the sight of Y/n, her pale body encased in a steaming bath as she hummed to herself quietly. Seeing her like this brought out all the emotions he had been holding in since he had first met her, and he found himself wanting to be closer to her than ever before. He took a few tentative steps into the room, careful not to make too much noise and break the peaceful atmosphere. When he was close enough, he slowly pulled the screen aside, allowing him to see her fully.

his face flushed with excitement as he finally caught a glimpse of her bare body beneath the steaming water, her pale skin glowing softly in the candlelight. He was mesmerized by her beauty and found himself wanting to reach out to touch her, feeling overcome with desire. His eyes travelled the length of her form and back again, lingering on the curve of her hips and the shape of her breasts as he struggled to maintain his composure. He had never felt so attracted to anyone before in his life.

Jacaerys' heart was pounding as he stared at her beautiful body, his hands trembling with anticipation. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her in the heat of the moment, to take her right there on the ground. He took a step closer to her until he was just a few inches away from her, his mind hazy with desire. But then he snapped back to reality and felt a sudden rush of guilt. He was betrothed to this girl, but those feelings had been swept away in the heat of the moment. He took a deep breath to clear his head.

she continued to hum and gently wash herself without much of a care in the world without noticing he had arrived

Jacaerys tried to maintain some degree of self-control as he watched her continue to wash, feeling his heart pound in his chest every time she caressed her body. This was not how he intended things to be going, but the sight of her perfect body was enough to send his desires spiralling out of control. He had to find some way to get back on track, to keep his mind focused on what was important. He cleared his throat softly, trying to get her attention.

she heard him so she turned and a smile grew across her lips, she crossed her arms over her chest her hands on each shoulder but not Inna scared away like she was gripping in fear more than just a gentle protective movement "ohh Jace, I didn't hear you come in sweet boy."

Jacaerys sighed and let out a deep breath as he saw her gentle, reassuring gesture, feeling his cheeks flush as he looked at her face. The sight of her beauty never failed to catch him off guard, and her soft voice had a calming effect on him, allowing his heart to race.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you. I, uh...I was just hoping to get some company while the storm rages."

"It's alright no trouble at all, I'm always delighted to have you visit me, is it the storm perhaps that bothers you?"

Jace laughed softly as he remembered his original plan to seek the comfort of his betrothed during the storm. "Aye, the storm is worrying me, but my mind seemed to have wandered off in the wrong direction when I saw you here," he admitted. It wasn't an entire lie, for the storm did worry him, but the sight of her in the bath had taken his mind to places he shouldn't have gone.

she giggled "I'm sure it probably did, well I like to take a hot bath on a stormy day" she smiled shifting a little in the bathtub to be closer to him leaning her chin on the rim "You'd be welcome to join me if you wanted"

Jace blushed again, but his heart jumped up into his throat with excitement as she offered to let him join her in the bath. The desire he had felt before came rushing back even more intensely now, and he had no intention of resisting."I would love to, I think it would feel good to get out of these cold, wet clothes and... into something a little bit warmer," he murmured, his tone suggestive.

"well you're very welcome to join me if you wish Jace, I'm sure there is plenty of room for you, but I worry perhaps my bath might not be hot enough for a dragon-like Targaryen velaryon like yourself" She giggled again and moved to sit up on her knees so the water level was only at her waist her hands cup her chest leaving her palms all that concealed them

Jace's eyes widened at the invitation to join her in the bath, his excitement growing with each passing second. He had always wished to be closer to her and to have her offering to share her intimate time and space was too good to pass up, the thought of bathing together was enough to raise his cheeks in heat. "I'd be honoured to join you," he murmured, walking toward her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

she giggled and made space for him in her bath sitting and waiting with a wide excited smile...

PART TWO Out Now

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dyns33 · 10 months

Text

Split

A little silly Morpheus x female reader

No one knew how or why this happened at the time. Those who knew said nothing, and did not come to help.

But one day the Dreaming split in two. It happened so fast that the inhabitants didn't immediately understand what had just happened, only noticing that one side of the kingdom had blue skies, while the other was stormy.

The castle also had changed. One side white, one side black.

"The boss is making changes ? He's pissed off ?" Matthew asked Lucienne, whose library had also been cut in half.

"I don't know. Yesterday it was still raining, but I didn't notice any change in our lord's mood."

"Still sad because of Y/N ? He's the one who left her, right ? I don't understand why he's sad, and now this."

"You'll have to ask him. If we can find him."

Outside it was no longer raining, and the balcony where Morpheus had stayed for days was empty.

The throne room was out of place. Neither did his private room.

It was as if he was no longer there. Or not totally. Not fully.

"Hello, dear Lucienne. Loyal Matthew. It's good to see you."

The voice was calmer, softer, but it was Morpheus' voice. Except he wore white clothes, his hair was white too, he was totally white. Only his starry eyes remained, staring at them as he smiled.

Smiled !

"... My Lord, are you all right? The palace...have you made any changes?"

"There have indeed been some changes, Lucienne. Sorry to have worried you. We didn't think before we acted. From now on, I, Lord Dream, would rule over this part of the castle, while Lord Nightmare will be in charge of the other half. You will have to see with him what he wants to do, that's not my problem."

"Lord... Nightmare ?"

"Yes. Excuse me, I have to go check on the dreamers."

Dreamers obviously meant those who had sweet dreams. Those visited by bad dreams were the domain of the other half, Lord Nightmare, who remained untraceable, hidden in the shadows of the palace.

Among the "good" dreamers, Matthew noticed that there was Y/N.

A lot.

Whenever he had time, Dream watched her with a smile, making sure she was fine and that her nights weren't restless. Since the big change, she hadn't had a single nightmare.

Maybe the raven wasn't wrong when he said it had to do with her and their breakup.

He needed to know more.

First, he asked the new boss. Because even though he had changed, he knew the old boss didn't like things being done behind his back.

Dream didn't seem upset by his request. He no longer seemed able to feel any negative emotion, still smiling and thanking Matthew for his concern.

"I miss my sweet Y/N, I admit it. I was stupid to let her go, when she had done nothing wrong. I would like to see her again, but I don't know if she would be happy. She has every good reason in the world to be mad at us."

Matthew had noted that the white boss sometimes talked about him saying "I", then saying "we". He often said "we" to refer to actions he was not proud of, in reference to when he was a single entity ruling over dreams and nightmares.

The little raven tried to talk to the master of bad dreams, but he did not come out of his hiding place.

So he went to ask Lucienne if it was a good idea to talk to Y/N. She wasn't sure, so Matthew decided on his own that it was a good idea.

Calm, patient, kind, Y/N let him into her home, offering him a small bowl of water and agreeing to listen to what he had to say.

She would have had every right not to open the door to him, yelling at him to leave her alone, after the horrible breakup with Morpheus.

"Why did you break up, if I may ask ?"

"You'll have to ask him. Everything was fine and one day he told me he didn't think we were meant to be together."

"Ouch. Not cool, boss. Not cool, and weird, because he's been very sad for weeks, and now this. You... Could you talk to him ? Talk to them? I don't know about Nightmare, but Dream seems to want it."

"I'll think about it."

Since she was calm, patient, and very kind, Y/N didn't think long and the same evening, she found herself in the Dreaming, following Matthew in the strange new corridors of the palace.

As the raven had said, Dream seemed happy to see her. He smiled, even more than he had since he appeared, the stars in his eyes dancing and twinkling as he walked towards her.

"Y/N... My love... I cannot express the joy that embraces me to welcome you here again. Aren't you angry with me ? With us ? I will kneel before you and kiss your feet until you forgive me if you have to."

"That won't be necessary."

"Noble heart. You are so kind to me, I..."

"What is she doing here ?!"

The walls shook and Matthew really tried not to be afraid as he saw the creature coming out of the shadows, its eyes blank, its face cruel, its long hooked fingers hanging down its scrawny body, covered in dark clothes.

A real Nightmare, without a doubt, which stared at Y/N with a look full of hatred.

"She's not welcome here ! Not after what she did ! She hates us."

"No, you are the only culprit, and the only one concerned." Dream replies by standing in front of Y/N. "So go back to your lair, and leave us in peace."

Nightmare stopped short, grimacing as it showed its sharp teeth, but there was a sadness in the back of its eyes, pain. He groaned but said nothing, stepping back into the darkness that seemed to move.

This dissuaded Matthew from following him, too frightened, and the little raven stood in front of Y/N when she moved in the direction of the dark corridor.

"Nope, nope. Bad idea, kid. Better leave him alone, he'll probably calm down."

"Matthew is right, dear heart." Dream said taking her hand. "Nightmare doesn't deserve your attention anyway, nor does he want it. We could walk in the gardens, or visit the two brothers."

Maybe it was because the sun was rising in the waking world, or because she was confused because he had just happened, or because she didn't feel like spending time with him, but Y/N didn't have time to answer, disappearing from the Dreaming and opening her eyes in her bed.

Almost immediately, Matthew visited her, to see if she was okay.

"I mean, I was worried, Nightmare is really scary and he seems to be really mad at you. Dream is worried too, he was glad I came to see you. He promised you wouldn't have any bad dreams, they have some sort of arrangement, I didn't understand everything. Anyway, are you alright ?"

"Yes. Nightmare has returned ?"

"No sign of him, but I'm scared as soon as I see a dark spot. He might be hiding in there."

"Why is he mad at me ?"

"No idea, Dream says it's his fault and we should just ignore him. Oh, he wanted to know if you wanted to feed the pigeons with him."

"... Not today."

Neither that day nor the following days obviously, Y/N avoiding Dream like the plague and asking lots of questions about Nightmare.

This ended up hurting the master of sweet dreams who continued to smile anyway, but displaying a sad smile and remaining alone under a fine rain, just like Morpheus before the change.

This greatly annoyed the Master of Nightmares, who again came out of hiding to yell at Lucienne and Matthew, ordering them to banish Y/N and not let her near Dream again.

"That idiot is fragile and innocent. He thinks she loves him, and hates me, but he's wrong. She doesn't love us. She proved it, again."

"Boss... Well, second boss... Well... It's nonsense! "

"Obey, Matthew ! Don't let her come back here !"

Matthew obeyed, and he didn't bring Y/N back, but he went back to see her to tell her what had happened.

Dream's words and Nightmare's words intrigued her even more, as she couldn't understand why one was so furious saying she didn't love him, and the other replied that he deserved it.

Because Y/N had loved Morpheus deeply, she still had a lot of affection for him despite their breakup, and she worried about this split in two.

That was why she wasn't interested in Dream, who wasn't totally him, and she wanted to understand what was happening to Nightmare.

To find a way to bring Morpheus back.

"Oh ? Maybe we should tell him. The boss wasn't good with people, so the two bosses ? They must be even worse !"

"I don't think Nightmare will want to listen to me. And Dream... I didn't mean to hurt him, really. It's just weird, I can't explain."

"Nah, I understand. I'm going to ask him if he accepts an audience."

Dream gladly accepted, although he seemed disappointed that she wasn't coming just for him and only him. He listened to what she had to say, sighing sadly when she was done.

"It's not your fault, my love. We should have warned you, asked your permission. We understood your fear and your disgust. We tried to accept it, but it was too hard. To know that you couldn't love us entirely. But we couldn't live without you either, so we came up with this idea. Nightmare won't terrorize you anymore, I promise, and I'll love you in a conventional mortal way."

"... What ?" was Y/N's only response.

“Don't you remember ? That night, that tragic night. We wanted to love you, totally. Like an Endless can love. You found yourself in us, and we in you. only one. But you were scared. You panicked, you begged, you woke up... You were crying in your bed. Oh, my love, I'm so sorry."

"That dream... I was floating naked in a dark void. There was a voice, and I felt... I felt so many things. Was it you ? I mean, Morpheus? I thought it was a kind of nightmare."

"In a sense, yes, since our primary essence is partly made up of nightmares. We should have known you wouldn't like that."

"I didn't say I didn't like that."

"You were scared." Dream noted, smiling slightly. "You cried."

"I told you, I felt a lot. Too much. It was intense. Scary, yes, but also exciting. I felt full, and empty, and good, and lost. And when I I woke up, there was nothing left, and I didn't know if it was worse or not. I suddenly had a feeling of lack. I couldn't wait to see you. You left me the next day. "

"… My love ? You… don't hate us ?"

"Of course not, I love Morpheus. I didn't know it was him, otherwise I would have been less scared. I know he spoke to me, but everything is a blur. There was so much . Matthew is right, he's really not good, I wish he'd talked to me."

"And you're not happy with the changes ? I need to find Nightmare."

It was not so easy to find Nightmare. You couldn't find a nightmare, it was the nightmares that found you, and obviously their master didn't want to be located.

Lucienne asked all the dreams present in the castle to help them, while Matthew flew over the surrounding gardens and plains.

Y/N was the only one to go further, to the caves.

There, deep in a dark cave where whispers and moans echoed, she found Nightmare, lurking in a corner, her back to him.

"... What do you want ?"

"Morpheus thought I didn't fully accept him. That I didn't accept you, and that's why we're in this situation. But that's not true."

"... How could that be wrong ? No one loves me. I am a monster. All creatures fear me and only wish to have sweet dreams. Dream is the lord of all, stories, cats, hope. He doesn't need me, and you'll be happy with him. I belong here."

"Even though Dream is very nice, he's...too nice. I love Morpheus, and Morpheus is partly nightmarish, torturous and difficult. I love his smiles, his poems and his starry eyes, but I also love his fury, his impatience and his emptiness. That night... It was him, totally him, and I didn't see that. But I loved that moment. I loved you. Now, I miss him. Will you let me have him again, dear Nightmare, or do you hate me too much ?"

The Nightmare slowly turned towards her, growing until it engulfed the entire cave, leaning towards her with an indescribable expression.

"I don't hate you. I never hated you. I would torment you until the end of time if I could, and if you wanted to. But since you don't just want Dream, you don't just want of me."

"No, I want Morpheus, my beautiful, my tender, my dangerous and stupid Morpheus."

"Very well then."

The earth shook slightly, the clouds swirled in the sky and the inhabitants of Dreaming were very afraid when they saw their kingdom split in two, reforming to form one, as before.

Y/N returned to the castle, where she found Lucienne and Matthew, unsure whether to enter the throne room.

Indeed, Lord Morpheus was there, reading a book, as if everything was perfectly normal.

So Y/N came in, approached him and greeted him, kissing him on the cheek, like she did before, before they broke up, before all of this.

"Hello Morpheus."

"Good morning, my love." he replied, continuing to read.

"I had a weird dream where you were split in two."

"I had a weird dream where you said I was stupid."

"Oh, I didn't say that !" laughed Y/N while shaking head. "I have said many things, and so have your parts. Your parts I love, as I love the whole, in whatever form. And the next time you visit me in your most pure on, please tell me, so I could prepare myself. I am only a mortal, my little heart is fragile and I have a hard time with emotions. Kind of like you, but differently."

"... I see. I'll let you know, love."

"Thank you, my stupid darling."

He said nothing, let her sit beside him on the throne, and observed what he read. Absolutely as if nothing had happened, except for a moment of bewilderment on the part of the king of dreams and nightmares, too little self-confident to believe that we could totally love him, and too proud to talk about it with his dear lover.

Luckily he was wrong and she loved him.

And luckily Matthew rarely obeyed orders.

#sandman #morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless fanfiction

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