#the eldest curses first read | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

otakuworks · 4 months

Note

Hiiiiiii it's my first time asking, I really love ur genshin works and this may be a very huge request but I've been having a brainrot where Genshin men are in particular manhwa and the reader gets to be the protagonist.

My idea is Xiao as Duke Kedrey from Villainess is a Marionette, cuz he treasure his personal bubble and really is a strong warrior like Raphael.

Maybe Scara as Rezef, it's self explanatory lol

Or Childe as Jeremy Agriche from Roxana. He'll spoil his darling rotten and relationship can be quite toxic but still healthy nonetheless.

Or Kaeya as Heinrey from The Remarried Empress. They're both Casanovas and hot looking❤❤

Or Razor as Nine from Beware of the Villainess.

I know it's too much and you ignore this if you want if it's a bit overwhelming. But if you do, it's okay to not do all of it, I'll be satisfied even just with one. Thank you and have a great day!!!!

❛ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀 𝐌𝐋. manhwa au

feat. Xiao, Scara, Childe, Kaeya, Bennett x GN!Reader | wc. 9.1Kaeya

disclaimer. if you haven't read any of these manhwas, don't worry, i won't spoil the story that much anyway. this fic will only be based on the manhwa and I'll try to explain it as the best I can do. and the first few bulleted paragraphs are the overview of the manhwa or the character.

note. this is genius level idea. thank you for requesting, i thoroughly enjoyed writing this prompt and reach 10k words lmao. I never got to write for razor 'cuz I still have to continue reading beware of the villainess but I do have an idea for bennett (my sec fav dps) in this prompt. i might do a part 2 with diluc who knows

cw. psychological, suggestive themes, yandere, childe

main m.list genshin m.list

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 / 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 as 𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐘 !

Not a single soul in the Empire does not know the fierce infatuation you harbor for the young Duke Alatus of Kedrey Dukedom. From his stunning golden eyes and dark green hair, everywhere he goes demands spotlight.

Ever since you caught the sight of him in one of the balls you were attending, you clung onto him like a leech, always closing the proximity, writing letters, and initiating conversation with him in hopes he'll reciprocate your feelings

Every interaction fills you with contentment and confidence. You're the eldest child of the Emperor, dignified, stunning and kind. Who wouldn't want an Imperial Nobility like you?

However, you've gotten way too engrossed for your undying love for him that you swept away the constant threat looming above you and your title as the Imperial Nobel.

The ballroom shimmers with golden lights, and the air buzzes with the sound of laughter and polite conversation with the soft hum of elegant music relaxing the nerves in the background, setting the perfect backdrop for the prestigious event where the whole Royal Family would be making an appearance.

Most notable Royal Family member to present was Y/N L/N, whom the rumors were circulating about of plausible marriage proposal to a certain Duke, unsurprisingly.

"Alatus!" You maneuvered your way to him, seemingly shameless for calling his name without his title before it.

"Your Highness." He greeted in such a desultory tone that anyone can deduce he's anything but ecstatic to see you.

You've known how distant and cold he acts toward everybody, but you were cursed with such a dense mind to comprehend he doesn't treat you any different; his stiff actions like simple greeting and short response equates how much he craves to stay furtive, contorted expressions and averting gazes are him expressing his displeasure in your presence and he definitely ignores your letters.

And yet you hope you can change his views of you by approaching him because of your burgeoning feelings. It didn't cross your mind how much he values his personal space and kept on insisting your infatuation, unbeknownst how much it irritates him.

"I'm glad you are here. Did you read my letters? I was hoping for your reply since last month but you remained unresponsive. I thought you might have been busy so you forgot to reply." You rambled on and on, you're too close for his liking but out of respect to your title as the Imperial Highness, Alatus stays silent.

One of the attendants offered you a chocolate dessert and you ate without regards, even offering one to the Duke. "I'm not a fan of sweets, Your Highness." He refused, eyes twitching.

"Oh? I apologize for that. It seems— *COUGH*"

For once, one expression painted the Duke's face out of all the times he wears his stoic facade. However, you don't know if you should be glad he's looking at you like that, he looks mortified.

"Imperial Highness! Quick! Fetch the doctor!" A Duchess yelled with clear distraught as she watches you slumped over the floor, coughing blood and alarmingly paling each second.

This incident is quite common amongst nobles.

You were poisoned.

Whoever did such thing never got to register in your brain as the poison intensifies and you doubled over from the scorching pain. Black dots danced in your vision, tempting to lure your eyes to close and pain only pushed you to do so

You barely registered the rushing footsteps of the guards or the nobles screaming before darkness greeted you like an old friend.

The Imperial Palace busied themselves for the recovery of the eldest royal, it even for busier when you were comatose. Security has been tight since then, there were more than necessary numbers of guards stationed outside your room.

Duke Alatus seems neutral with everything, rumors spread among the nobels that he never care for their highness, Y/N.

While it is true that he shows nothing but malice towards your incongruous advances, he does appreciate your efforts of getting closer on a microscopic level and deep down, there's a tinge of concern pricking his numb heart.

Still, his hatred and pride overpowers his concern, he never once visited you, not that visitors are allowed in the Imperial Palace anyway.

He does ask his informants regarding of your health condition. No one can gauge what thoughts running in his mind when he does so much as stare at the informant with a straight face.

And then one day, he received the news of your recovery, that you're finally awake.

You've been awakened by a startling nightmare that rattled your mind awake. For a comatose person in a cool air room, your forehead is sedimented with perspiration and all you can think of is how to escape from your wretched room.

Your maid came in only to react in astonishment to see you sitting up. When she asks how are you faring, you responded neither politely nor dismissively, when the doctor checked your vitals, you didn't throw a tantrum like you always do.

Behind your veil is a person desperate to survive the Imperial Palace before another catastrophic event occurs in the near future. You have to change your ways, it is for your benefit anyway.

The maid was suspicious of your every changing behavior as you were known for beautiful and luxurious nobel who throws jaundiced looks on anyone who do so much as to stare at Alatus.

Speaking of the Duke, you only realize he has no intention of reciprocating your feelings through the maids during your comatose state because there are times you lay there immobilized but your sense of hearing never fails you.

It was a bitter reality, you genuinely feel infatuated to the Duke and want nothing more but to know him better.

Unfortunately, your ways of showing affection is not appreciated to a man who values his dignity and protects his people first.

You chuckled at your stupidity, it was all spelled out for you to decipher but you chose to remain ignorant to the truth and now you got the deserving consequences of your actions. You suffer.

If time permits, you'd like to steer clear with Duke Alatus and seek forgiveness for the time you made him feel like an unworthy man who only attracts potential suitors by his looks and reputation.

He's so much more than that, and hopefully he'll find the right person who can show him love beyond on what you can give him.

For now you want to focus on running away from the Imperial Palace until the storm passes.

Weeks flew by and you've been attending more social balls to tell the whole empire that you've survived the assassination attempt, to convey nothing can hold you down. But to also give you enough time to map your escape in the palace.

It's not an easy task to fly away from the palace with the noble title on your head. Therefore, you would need someone to help you get away legally.

"M-Marriage?" Sputtered the Duke Alatus.

So much for asking for his forgiveness.

"I'm aware it sounds a salacious scheme to tie you down with me and I can only offer you my sincere words that I no longer bear any infatuation toward you, Duke. I've accepted the fact you have no room for romance and moved on. I hope you do the same and accept this contract. It's beneficial for both parties."

Sure it sounds like a scam and Alatus doesn't want to end up like his friend, Zhongli, who gets scam from left and right.

What baffles him is you sitting with such poise and authority that he no longer can see the past you who kept chasing him for answers to your confessions. You've matured. Mature enough to handle a crucial negotiation.

And it raises the question.

What happened?

He only knows you as the Royal Noble who follows him with lovesick eyes. He wasn't informed you could be downright. . . sexy.

"Your face is red, Duke. Is everything alright?"

"Yes." A pragmatic answer coming from a man punching himself on his mind for thinking lewd things about you.

"I'm not expecting a direct answer now, Duke. Take as much time as you need, but be reminded that I also have limited time. If you are not able to give me your answer within a month, I'll exterminate our negotiation and never speak it ever again."

Silence reigned supreme, the Duke's face never betrayed any emotion while you held your head high as you sip your tea. "I hope to hear your answer soon, Duke Alat—"

"I accept."

You blinked comically. "I beg your pardon?"

"I accept your offer."

"W-What? Are you certain?"

He leaned back and crossed his arms. "I am a soldier, everything I do is with certainty. I do not rush nor stall."

Your eyes escaped his scrutinizing gaze and slapped yourself at the back of your mind. Who were you kidding, of course Alatus wouldn't waste time and prefer to give direct answer. Times like this make you realize you don't know him at all and yet you claimed that you love him. Embarrassing.

"I understand. Starting tomorrow we are publicly a couple within 6 months, you help me with my escape and I'll help you in your foreign affairs under the Royal family's name."

You stuck your hand out for him to shake. "I'll be in your care."

"As I am."

Headline: "Royal Highness Y/N L/N and Duke Alatus Kedrey relationship has recently caused rumors to suggest their Highness Y/N has eloped with the Duke."

"This is an overkill." A nervous chuckle rumbled from you.

"I think it's justifiable." Countered the Duke.

"I believe so. What worries me is your take in this."

A frown settled deep in his eyebrows. "Worried?"

You mirrored his expression. "This headline would most likely attract journalists to interview you, possibly even dig your background to quench their thirst for answers." You paused and walked ahead of him in the garden.

"Knowing you don't like anyone to probe into your private life, it worries me to think about the plausible frauds you'll experience." You couldn't see his expression as you sighed.

Unbeknownst to you, his face is crunched up, forming an expression of what you can call it. . . confusion? Your words perplexed him to a whole new degree.

Weeks ago you were throwing yourself at him, you could care less of his feelings and only care for him to love you back, you did unimaginable things that he finds pathetic. You were selfsh, self-centered and other synonymous words.

But now. . .

Alatus sighed, massaging his temples. No use of thinking hard about their change, it could be a facade to let my guard down. As if that would ever happen anyway.

"I am not worthy of your concern, Your Highness. Please be rest assured that mere words won't affect this contract."

"Y/N."

"Pardon?"

"Call me Y/N when we're in public. It'd cause a stir if a couple address each other formally. Would it be alright if I call you by your first name?"

Again, you're being unusually solicitous for him. He was too stunned to speak and you took it as a negative sign.

"Do tell me when you're comfortable enough to let me call—"

"Why are you like this?" He bluntly asked.

You blinked owlishly. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Why are you pretending to be nice?"

You inwardly sighed. Of course there's no way he'll fall for your 'nice change' if anything, it made him more suspicious of your behavior. But really, you're showing genuine care for his needs and always try your best to assist him.

"I highly doubt you remember our first meeting, for you it might've been the worst day of your life. For me? It was the opposite."

"What?"

"My father is not as loving and caring for most people would think. Oh no, he's far from those, he's cruel and abusive." Alatus' eyes sharpened at the indication of domestic violence.

"He only saw me as a child who'd bring glory to the Empire, he cares for what value I can impart on behalf of his reputation. I have the beauty after all, but not the brains nor brawns. And he couldn't be satisfied with it." A bitter chuckle came from you.

"When I saw you at the ball, I was mesmerized like most men and women at first glance. You're dignified, strong, insightful and top of that you're undeniably gorgeous. I admire you like the rest of the population because you have everything my father wanted from me. I thought all those qualities were unreachable, and yet you exist. You made me feel inferior and I became insecure of myself. I only have my pretty face, without it I'm nothing but a disposable ornament. Do you know who poisoned me that night?"

He says nothing for a little while. He knew the answer right before you even asked. "Your father." There's a bite in his words.

"Perceptive as always, Duke Alatus." He couldn't match your careless words. If he was perceptive he would've figure out you feel threatened at your own home. He— Archons! He's pissed!

And for what reason? He asked himself.

"I pursued you since then, thinking my father would change the way he treats me if I had you with me, a perfect son-in-law— maybe then he'd look the way I expect a loving father would." Fists clenched, you tightly closed your eyes.

"I was a fool, alright. When he realized you're not interested in me, he deemed me worthless, hence why I was poisoned. He wanted to eliminate a thing that has no value anymore. It took me years to realize that he would never love me. No one would."

You've never experienced love, let alone how to show it properly. Only the Duke Alatus ever made you feel like a human worthy of showing basic manners to you without the influence of your title.

Your first meeting with him left a huge impression. It was at your debutant party, nobles attended and gossips were shared. A night that should've your spotlight, but it felt far from it.

For instance, you constantly felt out of place, as if you don't really belong in the social groups of nobility. Which was richly hypocritical, considering you also had an appetite for attention over individuality. The dichotomy left you uncertain on many occasions and you felt obligated to mask yourself behind a much more "proper" exterior. You can't define what's exactly proper, and so you would always second guess everything you do as feeble as greeting a new face and ask yourself if it's at their satisfactory.

At the end of the night, no one even noticed the star of the night had gone missing amidst their debut celebration. All except one.

Perched on the rim of the fountain, your bare feet submerged in the pool of water.

The cold sensation is strangely comforting, add the cool breeze of the night and you feel oddly at peace. Somehow contradictory to what you've read in romance books that people under stress usually crave the warmth of their partner. Perhaps the absence of love made you hunger for whatever's available for comfort, starving people will eat anything after all.

"Reduced to just sitting around. How absurd."

A frightening shriek escaped your lips, you made a hasty turn as the water splashed as you move. But that soon morphed in relief, the man in front of you impose no danger, if anything you'd feel the safest in his presence.

Duke Alatus is revered as the Hero in his Liyue Empire, the strongest fighter and apparently most handsome man to exist. And boy do those rumors did him any justice.

You've seen him from afar and couldn't help but fall for him at first sight, you wanted to get closer but you were always reminded how worthless you are and that someone like him would never bother batting their eyes to you.

And yet, he's here. In the flesh.

"What are you doing here?" You praised yourself for not stuttering in his presence. He merely shrugged before standing a few meet away from where you're sitting.

"I missed the chance to greet the host a blessed birthday, only to know that they've disappeared. Do you have a habit of playing hide and seek among your peers?" The satirical undertone must've flew over your ear and you looked at him, slightly aghast.

"H-How did you know I wasn't there?"

No one paid attention to you. So why would he?

He sighed, "Didn't you hear me? I was going to greet you but you somehow vanished in your party."

"You searched for me?"

He scoffed, "I'm here, aren't I? What kind of host would leave their debutante party behind?"

"You could've gone with your evening without pleasantries. It wouldn't reflect on your reputation, only mine, so why bother go all through this trouble to find me?" He gave you a blank look, but his eyes blinked in slight disbelief at your query.

"It wasn't trouble finding you, really. . . unless you prefer being alone at the moment, I can leave."

"No! I mean — ehem. . . you can stay." You muttered, an underlying embarrassment was present in your voice.

He perched an eyebrow. "You are an odd one as the rumors say."

It was a turning point to you. Being emotionally repressed and touch starved you are, you wanted more after the first sign of attention from him.

He gave you an ounce of your need to be seen, to be acknowledged, to be worthy of someone's time. It was enough for you to take it as a sign to pursue him.

But you realized a little too late that he would never reciprocate your feelings and the so-called "love" you have for him is the result of years being deprived from any compassion. You've mistaken hunger for love.

"Now you know the reason behind my desperation of escape and the need to change in order to succeed. Truthfully, I don't know if I'm doing the right thing of being considerate and all that. I have to apologize for making such attempts without researching." You made a mental note to visit the library later.

"Anyway, I've said many things today. Let's settle — OMPH!"

A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist and you were pulled backwards, only to softly bumped against a firm chest. "H-Huh? What's the matter, Duke?" You dumbly asked as you tilted your head up to glance at him.

His bangs shrouded whatever expression he has on his face. "You have my permission to call me Alatus, be it in public or private."

"Oh, OK." You're quite baffled what his actions are supposed to convey. Isn't he supposed to dislike physical contact?

"I first saw you as an incompetent noble, a typical royalty who's strength is heavily reliant on outward beauty." Damn, you should add straightforwardness in your compliments for him. "I've seen pretty faces everywhere, yours is nothing special."

"I've heard enough!" You tugged away from his grip, stinging tears threaten to fall. To think your only strength has been trampled on just like that feels like your hope vanishing. Your face is your only gateway to freedom and it—

"Tis why I am amazed to see you acquiring new strengths in your arsenal." E/C eyes found themselves clashing with Alatus' golden hues, there's a glint of emotion you couldn't decipher.

"Your Hi — Y/N, I promise to get you out of this hellhole. Our contract can exceed the 6 month rule for all I care." A blooming emotion spreads in you. He cares enough to finally notice you and your pain, and he's here to help you.

Don't get the wrong idea, self. He's helping me as an ally because he has a good heart. But I know I don't deserve someone so kind and he doesn't deserve someone so broken. I understand our fate is only meant for this; my savior and his misfortune.

You sighed as you remind yourself with that set boundaries. "You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you, Alatus."

"There's nothing to be grateful for. I'm happy to help someone in need, it's more than enough."

You smiled. And his heart skipped a beat.

A pretty face with a genuine bright grin.

You're beautiful when you're being you.

No bitterness. No ill-concealed pain. He has to rethink his words about your ''mediocre'' beauty.

It pisses me off when you sell yourself short with degrading thoughts, you're no mere ornament. You deserve to be loved, Y/N. I admire your strength and determination. You're a lot stronger than I was when I needed the strength to fight, you're someone I aimed to be in my darkest time. So, keep going and don't ever hesitate to call my name for help.

Little did they both know, Y/N was falling out of love while Alatus is falling in.

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐈!𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 as 𝐑𝐄𝐙𝐄𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 !

Many wise nobles would not dare cross paths with Prince Scaramouche Hill, his temperamental issues and rude behavior garnered him the reputation of a tyrant, but Y/N L/N had never counted themselves among the very wise.

You're the main character in every horror movie that instead of getting away from the first sign of danger, you run towards it because. . . why not? Where's the story if they'd just run away?

Wouldn't you guess it. You accepted his marriage proposal.

Now the question lingers: WHY?!

"Now, now. . . There is no need for such hasty decisions, for if such marriage were to be cancelled, then so too would the beneficial ties between our families. Is this what you truly want? A marriage for political convenience is what is being sought here, not love."

His ingenious words has been embedded in your mind ever since you avidly rejected the marriage proposal from the Empress herself. Making it much more difficult to retire on grounds of a healthy rejection was a rather callous way of dealing with part of the problem when the Prince himself outrightly called you out.

From the get-go, he was a walking red flag blessed with bewitching charms that you have fallen victim to. You've heard the rumors, he's anything but a saint, his looks might say otherwise but you've acquainted with his ugly side to conclude that your life will be full of thorns once you've wed.

This callous sentiment should chill you — maybe it would, if you heeded the alarm bells ringing in your mind — but fascination triumphs over any deterrent. What would it be like to get to know this Prince? Can I make this marriage work?

#icanfixhim

The wedding ceremony went smoothly, vows were pronounced and rings were exchanged. Though the two of you never really said it aloud, you both weren't ready for the. . . "marital duties"

For tonight, the servants prepared the room the newlyweds will share with unimaginable extravagance, there were rose petals littered in a heart shaped in your bed, candles on each of the bedside table and two bottles of what it looks like strong liquor across the room, definitely intended.

You entered the shared room gripping your nightwear and promptly chugging down the liquor at your leisure.

Scaramouche is yet to come in this new room, part of you hoped you'll be too drunk to fulfill the marital duties. But as you look at the window, mirroring your inner turmoil, you know it's pointless.

It’s a moonless night, heavy with the weight of regret, shattered dreams and a long road of loveless marriage.

You clutched the remnants of your sanity and drowned yourself in the bitter solace of liquid courage to feel the emotions you’d been avoiding. If you'll lose everything in one night, might as well be under the influence to numb the feelings away.

The bottle was harshly snatched from your hand. "Do you plan to do this while you are drunk? Is this what they have taught you?" Came from your new husband.

The liquor did the best job to give you the courage to speak up to him, something that you lacked when he snagged your confidence at the lowest as you rejected this marriage.

"Someone has to be educated in the bedroom?" There's a sardonic undertone as you sway your head. "Well, pardon me, Prince. You barged in my home, proposed this bullshit and expect me to be knowledgeable in the art of pleasure in one week?"

You drunkenly stood up and mustered your best glare-that-can-put-you-sixfeet-under. "You. . . I gave you a benefit of a doubt and accepted this marriage thinking you're a subject of those biased rumors, but you absolutely pale in comparison."

This is where you're expecting expletives insults from him, his pride has been put to the test and Scaramouche was not known for his leniency.

In your drunken stupor, only the blur outline of his masculinity shadows your figure. Before you could retort anything else, he had lunged himself to you, specifically towards your lips.

Surprised marred your drunken face, what's more surprising was how gentle he moved his lips with yours, you'd expect him to be rough in intimacy which what greatly contributed to your anxiety but his gentle actions made you think otherwise.

Are we really doing this?

A hand cupped your cheek as if guiding you to tilt your head to the side while yours gripped the bed sheets. His lips traversed the corner of your lips down to your jaw, rendering you speechless as breathy moans escaped.

He must have noticed your reaction and promptly detached himself from you and you can finally breathe.

"I'm only marking you," His voice was incredibly soft, it was like another soul possessed his body, "We both don't want this. . . whether by obligation or not and I won't cross it. At least by marking you, it'll make people think we have done it."

Scaramouche raised your chin slightly and lifted your face towards him. Now both your faces were looking at each other. He was staring deep into your eyes, as if he was looking for your permission.

There's a certain way Scaramouche takes in your appearance — a thorough observation that doesn't miss the smallest detail about you.

What he sees are things he's familiar with. An enticing body and face which speaks of power and a strong will. A sharp mind, which makes him feel he's found an equal in intelligence. Someone who he wouldn't have to manipulate or trick into submission. . . because he knows he could get there with affection and a proper hand. And, perhaps above all, the way you look at him. As he does to you. . . there's a burning desire.

Why does he have to make this difficult for me?

His hands slide over your body in a smooth, slow way which makes your mind go numb. His hands cup you and caress the shape of your form. Your eyes close as his hands take their place in your hair. . . holding it like a trophy.

With the way he was raised by the Empress, Raiden Shogun, it shouldn't come as a surprise that Scaramouche views you as a property to own rather than a living human who possessed feelings.

The taste, the feeling of his lips against your neck, his breath against your neck. It's intoxicating. . . and leaves you gasping for more and your stomach fluttering. You feel his lips trail towards your neck, and just when you thought he'd move up to your lips — he sinks his teeth in just enough to leave a mark without hurting you.

"This should be enough."

As quickly as he left the mark so was his presence in the room as he hastily stood up and left without making so much noise.

The morning after your consummation, you thought he might treat you a little better than before but he seemed to have reversed back to his old self once again. Archons!

When nothing goes his way he'll use you as a ventilation, and you took every jabbing words and flying objects thrown. You never once complained, not when you know his soft side.

Pitied looks and whispers of sympathy were your daily highlights, everyone in the castle knows how badly the Prince has been treating you since the first day. But that's not true, he treated you like a human on your consummation night, he was more than a Prince with temper tantrums.

If only you can understand His Highness, though. Try as you might. . . You just didn't get him. It seemed like he was made up of several personalities that were constantly getting in each other's way.

"Fuck." Scaramouche was now slumped on the floor.

It was one of those days he'd use you as his target of frustration, nothing new. Scaramouche has tendency to temper tantrums. But today, his eyes brimmed with tears.

Scaramouche himself probably wasn't aware of his vulnerability, he would immediately leave your room and do god knows what.

"Your Highness?" Your meek voice was barely comprehensible in his ears, he was visibly trembling with his head tucked in his arms.

"Go away!" Despite his harsh refute, there's an underlying tone of a defeated man. It hurts to see him like this, nobody deserves to experience pain no matter the circumstances of their birth — Scaramouche shouldn't be an exception to this.

"But you're in pain." You frowned deeply and kneeled beside his trembling form, far enough to not trigger his fight or flight instinct.

"I'm always in pain!" He was shouting and mumbling to himself, but it didn't slip past your senses that he was almost whining about his situation, similar to a child crying out for his mother.

"You don't have to be if you let people help you."

"Help me. . .?" He reiterated the words as if it's in foreign language.

A sense of dread flood your senses as you silently gulped, but you remained rooted in your spot beside him.

"Yes, I know you're not used to it, you're probably denying it in your head as I speak. I won't force you to seek help, but know that someone would be willing to help you." Lies, he knew your words were baseless reassurance to make him feel better.

"Yeah, and I treat you well." He sputtered those words with condescending ire and finally look up to you with so much loathsome in his purple eyes. "You're no different than the people who have deceived me."

Your eyebrows shot in surprise. So he had people who took him for granted? It's no wonder he was shaped like this — spiteful and vindictive. It was easier for him like this, to let people hate him than take advantage of whatever's left of him.

"I'm not deceiving you, Your Highness. I'm willing to help you."

"Do you take me as an idiot? Words hold no value or truth behind them." He spat bitterly and a firm scowl marred his expression before he sauntered to the exit.

"Willing?" He scoffed and finally stood up, unraveling his height that was only inch taller than yours. "Don't make me laugh, people like you always have ulterior motives to help."

"I'm not like one of those people. I give you my word for that."

"Your words prove me nothing. Get out of my sight!"

"But this is my room. . ."

His eyes twitched. "This is our room."

"Okay! I'll go!" You surrendered and stumbled your way out of the room without looking back.

Scaramouche wasn't aware when it began, he does know the feeling started off as a small simmer from a pot of heated water. He finds himself beginning to notice every small detail of you.

It began with him noticing the small dimples on your cheek when you smile or laugh with your full heart instead of the prim and proper laugh from etiquette lessons.

He noticed your habits depending on your mood — your hands become restless when anxious, your eyes dart anywhere but his eyes when you're uncomfortable, or the way you bit your lip when feeling awkward.

Is this. . .

Love. Scaramouche hated that word for love is always affiliated with trust which both reeked of vulnerability, and the sort of emotion that the Prince couldn't afford to display — not when all it had ever done in the past was cause him torment. The past, he had felt resentful because the Empress had handed over too much baggage unilaterally to him — his Princely upbringing, the sole heir duties, arranged marriage. Damn it all.

Thereafter, he had acquired unnecessary headaches from his supposed spouse. He had wrongly assumed your character, for after showing you early signs of his apparent animosity, it only fed your burning curiosity.

He was quick to chalk it up as your naivety, you did reject the proposal for the sole purpose of finding true love.

Only fools would expect love from a mere paper contract. If he had any sympathy left he would gladly drown you with it.

But his assumptions got stomped when you displayed regal actions against the nobles who badmouthed you about the marriage. It was expected that negative rumors would spread and most people would merely pretend they're deaf. You, on the other hand, confronted them and stood up for yourself.

You're far from naive, it seems. If not naive, then what's driving you to endure his treatment and keep leeching from him? The question blanketed his mind for weeks.

You, who's ever curious about the Prince and the the said Prince befuddled by your actions. Put it together and it creates subtle transition in your relationship.

He starts letting you engage him in conversations, as silly as they were sometimes. His answers were still brimming with condescension and ire, but somehow you couldn't shake the feeling that they somehow lacked the bite. . . the intention to hurt.

Or maybe you were just too numb to register it. Either way, you're liking the subtle changes in your relationship.

"HEY!" You gasped and bolt right up, trickle of perspiration on your temples. "W-What. . .?"

Scaramouche was beside you, his usual glare plastered on his face, but his hands are drawing circles on your back, soothing your labored breaths.

For every shift, there's the touch of his hand, the sound of his smooth voice that promises to protect you. His eyes follow you even in your shaking — the light reflected in them assuring that they won't disappear.

"Relax, reality is more often terrifying than nightmares."

Very reassuring.

Scaramouche's expression is somber as he regards you in the dark. There's a bit of hesitation before he reaches out to you. . . embracing you, like a blanket being your safe haven from the Boogeymen.

"I'm here, there's no need to fear." He whispered quietly as his grasp adjusts to be gentler against the softness of your skin as you trembled.

This is him. This is Scaramouche Hill.

This is what you were curious and hoping to see from him. No pedantical micromanagement, no cruelty born of mistrust and ill experience. Just Scaramouche, passionate, attentive and content. Kind in his own way, sardonic and inquisitive, not as selfish as everyone assumed. It was such a privilege to see it.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 as 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 !

They say there's a fine line between sanity and madness — Childe Agriche has a foot on both sides. And as the youngest son in the House of Black Agriches, he's the most 'normal' and 'enthusiastic' being you can meet in the manor.

You were a simple commoner who heard the rumors circulating the Black Agriches, if it taught you anything is that Agriches repay kindness with gold and insults with death. Yeah, a family you won't dare to cross with.

Apparently you don't share the same sentiment as your parents as they were too deep of their dept with the Agriche.

But they were spared and in exchange of their mercy, your parents sold you off with them to work in their house. They didn't even bat an eye and shoved you down to your knees.

You felt every kinds of betrayal that exist and snitched on your parents by exposing them of their illegal deeds and what they did to their money that put them in that situation.

Enraged, the head of the Agriche swiftly beheaded them and took you in the manor. It was a relatively quiet mansion, you thought you were going to die in the next few hours but you found yourself suddenly face to face with gleaming mischievous cerulean eyes that seems to enrapture you.

"Who you might be? A new toy for my siblings?" His jovial tone makes you think he's such a harmless creature, which was proven incorrect when he suddenly revealed of wanting you as his pet.

Did he mean slave? Surely he won't potty train you or tell you to sit and roll in front of strangers like a child(e), would he?

"Stand down, Childe. This is Y/N, a new addition of our workers." His father introduced before lighting a cigarette.

He scoffed, "We already have so many workers. Why don't they just become my pet instead?" You had to hold back the broadening of your eyes at this. What on Earth is wrong with these people?

The head of the Agriche merely shrugged as he waves a dismissive hand. "Do what you want." Your heart dropped at the nonchalant response. It'd be better if you get to work in the mansion, not be someone's slave.

An arm was suddenly draped over your shoulders. "Awesome! My name is Childe Agriche, you're now my new pet. So, let me break it down for you; you obey, reward. You disobey, punishment. Simple."

Did I mention he enjoys toying with his victims and making them his pet? Pet, as in putting a collar and chaining you up in the basement? And what was that again? He's supposed to be the most normal?

You're either stuck in a room where he claims to be your cage or following him in around the manor with the collar still on.

At first, you were scared what he might do to you, but it turns out he really honors his words. You obey him and nothing bad will ever happen to you. It really is that simple as he said.

You've heard how other Agriches tend to torture their pets for doing mistakes or even obeying as they're told. You haven't seen the display of power within the Agriches for Childe insists you stay in your cellar room, but the rumors you've heard guaranteed your every caution in meeting new people in the manor, even a maid.

With Childe, however, it doesn't automatically warrant punishment for a simple mistake. He opts to teach you what's right and wrong.

It's unbelievable how patient he is with you, it's more unbelievable to think he's an Agriche with this kind of attitude.

One day, he entered your cell and announced that you'll be living together with him in his room. The collar will have to remain for the sake of your 'safety' as he claimed. Thus, you found yourself laying on a thin satin silk mattress that left no little discomfort.

It didn't seem like he has many tasks to deal within the household, he'd occasionally be away for a few hours before returning bloody murder with crimson stains on his royal clothes.

Driven by a tinge of concern, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking. "What happened? Are you alright?" It was the first time you had seen him what the rumors would potray about him.

His eyebrows furrow in bafflement. "You're. . . asking me if I'm alright?" He asked, almost in disbelief that such question exists.

"Of course! Look at your clothes. How can you expect me not to worry?" Your courageous episode ended when you realized the mistake, you lowered your head. "I apologize. I didn't mean to come out as impudent—"

Your statement was cut short when a cold hand grasped your chin and tilt your head up. Those cerulean eyes never fails to instill the butterflies in your stomach.

"I didn't realize how cute you are until now." His voice dropped a few octaves low it sent shivers in your spine, "Nobody has ever asked about my health, and then there's you — chained up in my bed, concern for me." He chuckled, the type of chuckle that tells you he enjoys a good prey, that he likes how far you will go for him— he's testing you.

Even being concern can get you in trouble?! What's next? I'm getting punished just by breathing?!

"I don't mean no harm." Your demure voice only made him more elated.

"Oh, dear Y/N. Even if you do, there's no way you can land a hit on me," he paused, swiping his tongue out to wet his lower lip. "But fortunately, I'm a masochist myself. I might allow you to bite me if you behave~"

He really is an Agriche.

"Getting back. Are you really OK?" It took every innermost strength in you to divert the topic.

In response, he flashed you a cheeky smile before his hand slowly descended on the base of your neck. Latching his gloved fingers around until he's holding you in a chokehold.

He hasn't done anything, yet your breath hitched.

"You're so small and vulnerable, I can easily snap your neck like this." Proving his point, he added pressure which now made you choke and clasped your hands on his wrist out of reflex. "And yet, you're asking me if I'm OK?"

The pressure on your neck didn't loosen one bit, it feels like he has no intention of actually hurting you, just setting an example of what he can potentially do to you.

You barely can breath, not only because of his hold on your neck, but also the fact he's unbearably close your breaths are mingling as you exhale. You feel like fainting.

"B-Because I don't like seeing you hurt!"

His expression dropped instantaneously. An undecipherable emotion passed his countenance as his strands casted shadow over his blue eyes.

"T-Tartaglia?" Was his alter ego.

He insisted on you calling him by that name.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you care?"

You ask yourself the same question, any sane person wouldn't think twice to care for a cold hearted killer, but any sinner like him wouldn't treat you with such kindness.

"Is such reason needed? I saw you stained with blood, it's natural for me to fret."

". . ."

"Aww~" He cooed, finally loosening the hold on your neck.

What an odd reaction. You took a huge inhale and nearly slide down as your knees weakened, but he has his arm around you to keep your equilibrium in balance.

You felt his gloved hand tilting your chin up, his bright blue eyes swirled with emotions you couldn't deduce.

Everything he's doing alerts your senses to run, but your body just craves for more of his touch. Archons above! I'm losing my mind! The way he looks you like a predator — a hungry and sadistic animal, looking to ravage your soul. He's a dangerous, charismatic and highly intelligent man. A twisted fantasy.

"You know what, you'll be my significant other!"

"WHAT?!"

"And you should call me Ajax from now on, too!"

How many names does he have?!

The next thing you know was Childe's entire personality shifting. He freed you from the chains and treats you like a true royalty. Childe innate possessiveness of you increased tenfold after he was exposed to your gentle side.

Overwhelming was the right word for what you felt after a few days of his behavior.

But your "boyfriend" kept insisting in gift giving, it's his primary love language. You mentioned your favorite food? He'll have it on the dining table. You fancy a clothing? Consider the whole shop yours. Someone being an asshole to you? Expect a dried head by your doorstep.

Make no mistake in kidnapping his S/O — he'll rain down all kinds of hell. Sadly (not really) some people just don't heed warnings and accept death so readily.

The temperature in the room seemed to grow colder in cadence with the ice in Childe's gaze. "You mean to tell me, that you are all incompetent to do a simple task of guarding my room where my S/O was? And now they're gone?"

*SPLAT* *THUMP*

One head rolled over

Nobody breathed.

"For every minute you fail to bring the culprit in my playroom equates for a head. If I happen to find them before any of you — don't expect a one way to ticket to hell. I will guarantee to entertain all of you along with the perpetrators."

Childe Agriche loves to play and this was one of his games. Touche! As if he can expect those vacuous idiots to find Y/N.

The door closed with an ominous boom that echoed throughout what sounded like a massive but empty chamber.

Childe knew anger, he was well acquainted with the said red emotion but he had always try to mask it under the pretense of a funny and boisterous man. This time however, he's been uncharacteristically calm and everyone in the manor feels like walking on a tip of a knife.

They wouldn't understand, none of those imbeciles would know what it feels to be with Y/N. He scoffed as he sharpens his arrowhead before placing it in his quiver. There was no time to waste, he wants you back in his arms.

And he did.

With bloodshed, of course.

"GAHHH!"

Childe moved swiftly and gracefully, so much so they had trouble keeping up with him. He came up behind one of the culprits the one that was holding you captive, and broke his neck rather quickly before slashing at another who was nearby.

He quickly ducked, avoiding the enemy coming up from behind, and grabbed his arm, flipping him over, and pinning him down. Suddenly a loud shrill was heard as a bone cracked, and then he moved on the other.

Blood dripped from his fingers, but before a drop could even hit the floor, he’d already struck dead another one, splattering even more blood. One by one the went down, until they’d all been wiped out, annihilated by their supposed prey. They were outmatched by the youngest Agriche.

And by the glint in Childe’s cerulean eyes, he was clearly enjoying the thrill of the kill. The Agriche barely even broke a sweat, his breathing remaining even despite the number of men he had been fighting against him.

Against the occluded moon, he stalked towards your unconscious form and lifted you bridal style, Childe looked more like a predator than a lover, a hunt ending with the prey pinned and helpless. The smell of death permeated the frigid air. Only corpses lay around him.

Holding the unconscious Y/N in his arms, his expression did not once flinch. It was as if he was only holding a feather. Amidst the night, his figure glided on the ground agile and light, before finally disappearing behind the shadows of the nearby trees. . .

You woke up a little disgruntled and already felt the pain in your head flaring as soon as you forced yourself awake. So much for being Childe's S/O, it comes with a free package of his enemies hunting you down.

"Y/N, you're awake." You heard an unusually soft voice beside you as you felt the bed shifts in weight followed by a bone crushing hug from your-supposed-lover.

Pain flared in your abdomen and you had to bite back a grimace. "I swear you're not leaving my sight ever again." His breath is like the scent of night-blooming jasmine on the breeze: soft and soothing, yet sweet and enticing, effectively distracting you from the pain.

If you only you had witnessed the bloodshed you would think twice than to fall for his honeyed words.

"Y-You have blood on your clothes. . ." The indication of your query made him smirked. "It's my trophy."

You decided not to probe any further. In his language, that meant another massacre to stain his clothes and it only means whoever abducted you reached the other side as such a young age.

"Thank you for saving me. . ."

His eyes softened as he chuckled. "You're thanking the same man who shed blood for you?"

"I'm thanking the man who cares enough about me." You refuted.

You were too absorbed in hugging him back that you failed to notice the eerie smile on his lips. His next words were spoken next to your ear, laced with obvious unhinged obsession over you.

"Right, I'm the only one who would save you in face of danger and care for your well-being. No other people can do as much as I can for you, so stay with me forever, Y/N."

Was it your imagination or did you just see a psychotic grin?

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 as 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐙𝐋𝐎 !

How atrocious can your life get when you learned the news of your husband handpicking a concubine for himself, then the said trash woman actually has the guts to call you her in-law just because you have the same husband.

Now, you pride yourself for being patient, courageous and intelligent. You wouldn't have ruled an empire if it wasn't for your educated upbringing. But even a ruler like you can feel overwhelmed and burned out, and would find a temporary solace to cry your heart out.

The fact your husband picking his concubine is not the issue inconveniencing you the most. It was his and that man-stealer attitude is what suffocated you the most.

Outrageous to see the trash playing the victim card and shedding fat crocodile tears just to earn your husband's favor. Audacious to think of herself as the same level as you when she doesn't even know basic etiquette rules and the difference between a garbage and herself. Humiliating on how he made you a fool on many occasions and sided with his mistress while everyone whispered on how the Emperor favored his concubine over his own S/O.

And he dare say you're not allowed to have an affair?

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Which lead you in a secluded forest to vent out your feelings and temporarily get away from all that's happening in the palace. You're perched beside a rock while your head is tucked in your crossed arms, burying your head, silently weeping in the depths of the green environment.

*FLAP* *FLAP* *FLAP*

You reluctantly raise your head to investigate the noise, of course you knew it was some type of bird, but you were curious what type of bird it was as you rarely get to visit nature. You'd appreciate a little company even if it's from an avian creature.

Majestic, charming, jaw dropping, and everything synonymous to the word beautiful can be attached to this mystical bird.

What caught your attention the most was its beautiful midnight blue and cerulean ombre feathers, you've never seen such bird in the books you've read let alone see one in real life. Next was its body that's bigger than your head and a wingspan that's almost in par with the length of your arms spread open. And lastly, the note tied to its leg.

"How beautiful. Will you allow me to touch you?" You didn't even notice yourself nearing the bird. A slight hesitance made you flinched when the bird nailed its bright eyes on you. Even the eyes resembled the finest jewel in your kingdom.

You retracted your hand under the assumption you had scared the bird. However, the surprise entered your face when the bird flapped its wings and perched on your suspended hand in the air. It looks like it doesn't sense you as a threat. That's a good start.

Admiring nature's blessing, you caught the note tied to its legs which made you think if this bird is a pet of some noble. "Hmm, are you lost? Based on your looks, you don't look like a wild animal that happened to stumble upon this forest by accident."

You took the note from its feet and read the content;

"I am a guest from abroad who will soon arrive at the new year's ceremony, and I write this note while drunk."

An amused chuckle left your lips as you look back at the bird who's tilting its head in curiosity of your reaction. "I'm sorry, your master sounds like an interesting person and a pain in the back. I feel bad you lost your way here. Hmm. . . should I write back?"

It wasn't even a question, you hastily fish out your pocket pen and wrote a sassy reply at the back of the piece of parchment. Hopefully it doesn't offend the owner of the bird.

You tied the note once again the rubbed its head one last time. "Off you go, little one. Deliver my message to your drunk master and fly your way back home safely."

The bird spreads its wings before taking flight.

You sighed once you lost sight of the avian creature.

Suddenly, you were harshly reminded of your duties and the circumstances you're currently in. As much as possible you don't really want to deal with another mistress-related issues within the palace and have your husband pin the blame on you. Crestfallen, you made your way back to the palace.

What you didn't know was the pair of jewel-like eyes following your movement from one of the tallest trees.

"What an interesting person." A man chuckled as he held up the note that was recently tied to his leg.

It was none other than the blue avian creature that has assumed the image of a man possessing a tanned complexion and navy-blue hair with streaks of lighter blue, accompanied by a waist-length lock of hair that's being held by a low ponytail.

As he reads the content of your message, he couldn't help but feel intrigued by what had occurred prior to you noticing his presence. Why were you crying? Crying doesn't suit a beautiful person like you, especially a sassy one at that.

"Your bird has found its way to me, if it is able to find its way back, I shall be relived, for it means it must be cleverer than its inarticulate drunk master." Sassy yet regal, indeed.

A lopsided grin adorned his lips. "So it seems I must cleverly find my way back to you if I want to see you again, Your Highness. And I must say, I love a good challenge."

Days have become grueling for you to endure, but you persevered through it all. The mistress has become more comfortable in causing ruckus in the palace just to get the Emperor's attention on her.

You don't really care about all the shenanigans she's planning to pull so long as it doesn't interfere in your line of work as a wise ruler.

Then one day, the similar bird you found in the forest came flying at your balcony and kept scratching the glass pane to get your attention.

You gasped once you realized who it was. "It's you again. How are you so good in finding me?" And it seems as though it has a new note attached to its leg.

"I'd like to think I'm a bit more intelligent than a bird. I've now woken up from my drunken stupor."

You giggled at the person's confidence. "Lumine, get me a pen and paper, will you?" You addressed to your attendant standing by the doorway.

"It seems as if you haven't woken up completely. What is the bird's name?"

Lumine, your attendant, commented at the ardor look on your face. "It's fun for you too, isn't it, Your Majesty?"

"A bit. . .?" You coyly replied, this little interaction with the bird and its master is the highlight of your day. Not even the whole mistress thing can be bothered right now.

As if challenging your thoughts, your husband walked in after you just sent away the bird with the letter of yours.

The conversation was tad too accusing, saying you're spreading rumors about the mistress to drag her down. Ha! Even if the rumors were false, it speaks volume.

You left the palace once again, to your safe haven.

It seems as though it's going to be your hobby to seclude yourself when no one's watching and let the nature be a witness of your depressive moments.

*FLAP* *FLAP* *FLAP*

Hearing the familiar flapping, you subconsciously stretched out your arm for the bird to land.

"It's you again!"

And a new note.

"Is such thing needed? You may name it, if you'd like."

"What an indifferent master." You sighed at the response and gaze at the bird. "A kind, intelligent bird like you deserves a name which befits your character. So your name shall be. . ."

"Queen."

Unbeknownst to you, the bird bristled at the name.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Queen. I'm in good spirits now, thanks to you." You embraced the bird and pecked its beak. "I hope you will come visit me again."

The bird flew toward the inky sky. Anyone wouldn't be able to tell the slight blush coating his head.

He landed a few hectares from your and transformed back to his naked human form.

"Archons above. How could they name a man, "Queen"?" He rubbed his dark blue hair. Seemingly sheepish for being mistaken as a girl.

"What was that?" A new voice spoke.

It belonged to the red bird perched on the branches.

"You said you'd go survey the premises. Did you take another detour again?" The miffed tone is impossible to miss. He flew down and morphed to a man with luscious crimson hair that cascades down to his waist and sharp tantalizing red eyes.

"No, of course not. I went to reconnoiter the Imperial Palace."

"Did you really?"

"You don't believe me, brother?"

He gave his brother a sharp glare. "You haven't given me enough reason to. But do remember your position and responsibility, especially in this foreign country."

"I get it. Don't have to nag me, Diluc."

Kaeya Laszlo, first in line to the throne of the Khaenri'ah Kingdom. The center of many rumors, such as those which describe his great cruelty or great beauty.

A few of those say he's a Casanova, and that he associates with dangerous pirates hence why he hasn't met any woman or man of his interest.

And finally, the long awaited New Year's Ceremony came. Noble figures were all invited to celebrate the occasion with your Kingdom as the host.

As for your husband, he's quite busy mingling with his mistress and you were left with your friends.

"Dear god. How shameless is the Emperor to have the face in showing off his. . . unpalatable mistress."

"There is no need for your ire. The law states that the Emperor can take more than one spouse." A tight smile graced your lips.

One of your friends scoffed. "Even it that were the case, a man with a noble heart wouldn't take one more to fulfill his insecurities. You are more than enough and the Emperor does not deserve you."

"Greetings, Your Majesty." An elegant man gracefully interrupted your conversation with your friends.

You turn to look at the man clad in a white-blue knight uniform, specifically more stylish than what you usually on a regular knight at your Kingdom. A Prince, you concluded.

As you shift your apprehensive eyes on him, the little details such accessories and intonation caught your undivided attention.

Silver rings on those long, dexterous fingers, silver necklace around the neck that held his head way too high, silver tongue in that mouth home to all kinds of sins. He was the epitome of being devious; so much so that he could literally walk right off anything by just talking his way out of it.

"I am Kaeya Laszlo, first Prince of the Khaenri'ah Kingdom."

Everyone around you gasped and some almost fainted while you remained level-headed.

"Greetings, Prince Kaeya. I have welcomed you earlier today, but it never crossed my mind to engage a talk to such an esteemed guest of ours."

It's more like I never expected someone like you to approach me. You thought sardonically.

"Do I come off as cold to you, Your Highness? Pardon but that is not my intention, but surely you'll allow me to make worth of your time." He chuckled wistfully, a smirk has overtaken his lips.

Great God. If he endeavoured to make you fall for him as much as possible, then he was doing a splendid job. You just couldn't shake off the feeling that you know this man.

Burst of giggles erupted around you while your eyebrow perched. "Cold? You don't strike me as such, if anything, your bold statement has proven me otherwise."

"Oh, and what would be your answer?"

"I—"

"Of course they agree! Please don't mind us and enjoy your evening together, Prince Kaeya!" One glare against dozens of mischievous eyes is like fighting tooth with nail.

"Shall we?" He offered his hand to guide you in his predestined destination. "I sure hope it is worthwhile, Prince Kaeya." You took his hand and my god was his hand the iceberg.

"Call me Kaeya for starters and I shall call you Y/N."

First name basis already?

"Is that a demand?"

"Does it sound like a demand?"

"It certainly does."

"Well, it is up to you to decide whether to oblige or not." He smiled.

God, it's unfair to have the blessings of charm.

"Where are we going?"

The young man beckoned his head to the exit. "Somewhere your husband won't suspect a thing."

"You really do sound like a Casanova."

"Oh dear, don't tell me you believe those hearsay."

You shrugged. "I do not, but you've been anything as what the rumors have described you thus far."

"You made me curious of you."

"How so?"

Arriving at the garden, he glances at the full moon before turning to stare right at you. "Your eyes are beautiful, yet they also look so empty oftentimes. Your movements and the way you speak are very refined and regal, but they can turn cold, or even rude at times. You're a paradox I'd love to solve, Y/N." Kaeya paused, "But I feel like you're a paradox I could never solve, no matter how hard I try."

This stare off could go on forever, if Kaeya had his way. The tension is obvious, but the air between you both is too tempting — too addicting to resist.

He doesn't look away. . . not one bit and neither do you. His eyes are fixed on yours, his breath steady and his pulse strong. A part of him wants you to make a move. . . to show that you feel as strongly for him as he feels for you.

The other part just wants to steal you away and make you his.

Spoiler alert: he did.

𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓 as 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 !

It's old news for aristocratic children get engaged before they could debut. But in your case, you're not merely marrying a boy of your family's choice.

You're marrying the infamous Monstrous Crown Prince Bennett; the child who was rumored to have been cursed to bring misfortune to those around him. Thus, he has lived his entire life in the confinements of his four walls.

Fretful thoughts flooded your mind as your carriage neared his mansion. Imperial children usually stays at the Imperial Palace with the King and Queen, however in Prince Bennett's case, he was segregated to live in another mansion built specifically for him to stay out of the spotlight — or as others should say it, for him to not spread the curse of bad luck.

You don't usually treat people based on senseless rumors, but you do heed the rumors as a guide for you to be cautious. Prince Bennett is by far the most unknown factor you have to deal with despite the rumors surrounding him. What is he like? Is he a snob? Does he really bring bad luck?

Those thoughts have kept you all night that you didn't have time to sleep. Somewhere along the way, you fell in a deep slumber, ignoring the occasional jerk of the carriage as it hits a bump on the road.

Constant whimpering reminding you of a kicked puppy was what woke you up from your blissful beauty rest.

For a moment, you have forgotten what happened before you fell asleep. Through your blurried vision, you noticed the walls and ceiling looking dull with the simple light shades of painting, the bed you're resting felt foreign to the touch, the minimalist approach from the interior design and lack of other furnitures made you think you're in someone's room.

"G-Gah! Yo-You're awake. . ." A meek voice said from beside you, it's easy to mistaken it as a woman's voice if it wasn't for the boyish undertone.

You blinked several times before adjusting your sight. There's a hooded boy at the very far right of your bedside, and from the looks of it, he seemed terrified to even close an inch gap.

"Who are you?" Was million dollar question. The boy visibly bristled. It's quite clear for you that he's not used to social interaction.

"I-I. . . am Bennett." He spoke with a low, soothing tone that was laced with a soft accent. Despite his voice being smooth and even, he stared back at you with unbidden curiosity, one that seemed to peer into your very soul.

"Bennett?! Oh Lord, I greet His Majesty the Crown Prince!" You promptly bowed your head as low as it can get.

"W-Wait, no, please don't do that! I don't deserve your respect and besides, we're equals now, feel free to call me Bennett if you like."

He doesn't deserve respect? What a load of bullcrap does that mean? A frown has settled deeply in the creases of your forehead. This boy is anything but what the rumors have described him.

"Your Hig— Bennett, you could be an outcast or a peasant and I'd still treat you with respect. Don't say you don't deserve decent manners." You're almost fuming at this point.

"But I'm a monster. I don't deserve anything, even you."

Something in the purity of his statement triggered you.

"I bring bad luck to everyone. I could hurt you in the future and I don't want that, I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me."

You could feel the last of your residual resentment fading away, getting replaced by a deep sense of compassion — as well as a healthy dose of curiosity. What would this boy, your future husband, truly be like?

"You're no monster, Bennett. No monster would be concerned for my well-being and selflessly label themselves as such to ward me off." He seemed to perk up at your claim.

"Don't ever call yourself as such. I can't stand it."

"I don't understand, you're the first one to say that to me."

A frown has settled on your brows as you came to stand next to him. "You don't need to for now, I'll show you."

Bennett was none of those rumors. You have concluded that ever since you met him, he has been kind and considerate to your well-being. You have never met someone who would ask which side of the table they're more comfortable to eat with — not until Bennett.

The boy was overwhelming with perfervid compassion and the strong urge to give love, it can feel suffocating at times but that's what made you like him.

There's just this nagging feeling in your gut that he's forced to act like a doting husband due to the fact you're engaged. Is it all an obligation? Or he's simply this passionate?

"Are you not upset at this?" You had asked one night.

"Upset about what?"

"About our arranged marriage."

Bennett may appear jubilant around you but you can't help to think he harbors ill will to this arrangement. "I see no reason why I would." He replied, smiling at you as per usual.

"Why is that?"

He tear his gaze from you before briefly interlocking your hands. So warm and full of passion, you promptly responded to the gesture by drawing circles with your thumb.

"You're the best thing to happen in my life. I can't explain this feeling but I do know I can't be happy without you. Thank you for coming in my life, Y/N."

━━ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃. bennett's way too short cuz I ran out of ideas T-T this took wayyyyyy tooooo long, but I'm glad it turned out well. what do you think of this au? I'm planning on making a part 2 for other genshin men, I'm actually starting it already but I still need to finish other prompts.

━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @atsukawolfcat @spyanya @ittosoneandoniwife @a-rose-byanothername @lasignoramybeloved @vvyeislazzy @kokomisimpppp @gookimswife

©OTAKUWORKS_2023

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spacedace · 1 year

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Damian doesn't know who Santa Claus is and Danny tries to gaslight him into believing in Santa

Okay but, like, wouldn't even be gaslighting! Santa canonically does exist in the DC universe, I think I remember reading something about him fighting through an army in hell to give Darkseid a single piece of coal once?

So like, Danny doesn't have to gaslight Damian into believing Santa's real, he just has to pull out the proof (Danny has a binder of everything he knows about the Spirit of Christmas for the purpose of when he eventually goes to war with him, Danny hates Christmas so fucking much haha) and show him evidence that Santa is real.

Probably ranting the entire time about how much he hates the guy & Christmas and it's obvious that this is Danny's arch nemesis. His one true villain above all others. Pariah Dark? A nuisance. Dark Dan? Just a tuesday. Santa? That motherfucker is the bane of Danny's existence and he will pay for what he's done (spread Christmas cheer).

And Danny's the newest member to the family. Damian's been encouraged to get to know his new brother and try and bond with him a bit, make him feel like part of the family. So, obviously, the best way to do that is to help Danny in his quest for vengeance.

And of course Tim & Jason end of getting roped in on this. Damian's grown since he's first came to live with his father. He still is a little brat to his older brothers - he's the baby of the family it's his right - but he doesn't actively hate them anymore and can admit when their particular skills would be useful. Tim is the best at strategizing, and Jason is a combat master with access to all sorts of weapons. With all of them working together Santa has no chance, they will destroy him.

Which all just makes me think of something like this happening lol:

“What…uh, what are they doing?” Duke glanced between the chaos unfolding in the family room to where Dick was calmly seated in his favorite chair, sipping idly at a cup of coffee.

“Sibling bonding.” Dick said. There was that specific aura of calm around him that said that he’d already gone through several crisis and all the stages of grief at least twice. Considering the calamity and chaos the eldest batkid had seen over the years - and especially the last few months since Bruce officially adopted Danny and brought him into the fold - it was a bad sign that he’d reached this particular state of Done (TM) before noon. The earliest Dick even woke up was two in the afternoon.

Duke contemplated turning around right then and there - the particular combination of people all excitedly feeding off each other’s feral energy on the other side of the room was a catastrophe in the making he didn’t want to be anywhere near when it finally breached containment and spilled out into the wider world - but unfortunately he was cursed with the curiosity that afflicted all members of the bat clan.

“It looks like they’re plotting to try and kill Santa Claus.”

Dick turned to look at Duke fully for the first time since he’d entered the room. He had the eyes of one that was deeply haunted by the horrors they had witnessed. On the other side of the room Tim was ranting about anti-magic tech while Danny, Damian and Jason argued over what weapons would be most effective against a demi god. There were schematics of what looked worryingly like a rocket launcher looking device that - if the scribbles on the whiteboard someone had drug into the room where to be believed - was going to be rigged to shoot ecto-grenades.

“Danny hates Christmas.” Dick said, and Duke noticed for the first time that his hands around the coffee cup were faintly trembling. “He’s declared Santa is his arch nemesis.”

Duke blinked, glancing over to the others long enough to see Danny start frantically scribbling the words Christmas Nuke on the whiteboard. No one else was trying to erase it. Tim looked worriedly contemplative. Damian and Jason where both nodding in agreement.

He was going to regret this. “But Santa isn’t real?”

Dick’s eyes gained a faintly manic glean, and Duke could faintly hear the sound of porcelain creaking warningly beneath the desperate hold he had on his coffee cup. “That’s what I thought!” Dick said, with enough cheer to make Duke flinch back instinctively. “But apparently he is.” A distinct crack appeared in the cup, coffee dripping down into Dick’s lap. “And apparently they’re going to war with him!”

Well, Duke considered, at least that explained why he caught the four of them burning down the giant Christmas tree in the city center last night.

#spaced asks and ace answers #dc x dp prompt #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #duke thomas #dick grayson #batpham #batfam #danny hates christmas so fucking much #you know he's on the naughty list just for his various assasination attempts on santa's life #Bruce didn't know this kid was a half ghost god-king of an entire infinite dimension of death he just saw a sad kid in a bad situation #it wouldn't have changed anything if he'd known Danny had adoption bait written all over him #but he at least would have been able to better prepare for the kind of supernatural shenanigans that would pop up #Duke took one look at 4 of his brothers standing around a burning christmas tree at 3 in the morning holding gas cans & lighters & thought:#not my circus not my monkeys #he was the day shift vigilante he didn't get paid to deal with his family's shit in the middle of the night #he didn't get paid *period* he wasn't going to do volunteer chaos gremlin wrangling #Dick just wanted *one* day of relative quiet #he should have known that wasn't going to happen

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leviscolwill · 7 months

Text

— dad!jude bellingham headcanons !

pairing: dad!jude bellingham x fem!reader

req: could you write dad!judebellingham ml <3

note: i tried writing headcanons because i feel like my writing is very 👎👎🍅🍅🍅 at the moment, i hope you'll like it still !! reblogs are VERY appreciated since the tags are in a silly goofy mood right now #useless 😝🤪

tag list: @ceofmercedes <3

it's well established on judeblr that he is a girl dad, so girl dad it is

i think he would spiral a bit over the fact that you're growing a whole human being in you

he would say random shit like “no but do you feel her legs grow ?”

and you're like 😐😐😐 of course not

but the poor boy is just clueless 😪

he would always remind you of how you're the most beautiful woman on earth, even when you're crying your eyes out because ron fell off his chess piece in the philosopher's stone

now,, i think we're all well aware he would spoil your daughter rotten

getting her new clothes or new toys whenever he passes in front of a store because “she might need it one day”

but !! he would never let her turn into a “daddy i want a squirrel” kinda girl

you would both make sure she's very well mannered because he is very aware his parents' education played a big part in who he is today

i feel like being strict wouldn't be a problem for him either

yk being the eldest in his family, he wouldn't be swayed by your girl's pleading eyes when she acts wrong

he would 100% cry on her first day of pre-school (it's the cancer in him)

and he would try to drop her / pick her up from school as much as he possibly can with training and stuff

if you speak another language, you'd learn it to your daughter and use it to talk shit about jude 🤭

“have you seen what he wore today ?” “yeah daddy's shirt is very ugly”

in my case she would say quoicoubeh to him

i feel like he'd get so frustrated and start sulking amd pouting before your daughter reassures him

okayy bc it's spooky szn rn 😋

family matching costumes !! (call it corny 😡 i do not care)

monsters, disney characters or the adams family... he'd have soooo many ideas

he'd go trick or treating just to eat all the sweets

playfights with your daughter for their girl's attention

“it's my mommy !”

“oh yeah ? but mommy liked me before, so i'm the number one in her heart”

“it's not true ! mommy tell him he's a liar”

you can only roll your eyes because he really has beef with a whole child ???

but he's just a kid himself !!

everytime she gets to see uncle jobe she's overly happy

and jude would smack the back of his head when he says a bad word

(like he's not the one to curse at home yk 🙄)

is it a bad thing i think he would secretly hope your daughter has a bad dream so she'd have a good excuse to sleep in between you both ?

because he would

just to cuddle with her

then he regrets it when she wakes him up early in the morning

when she grows up he would be soooo invested in her school's dramas

like, actually asking for updates during dinner like he's dan from gossip girl

“what do you mean ben is dating his ex's best friend ?? he's such a di... bad person”

he'd be so gassed whenever she would wear his shirt (especially at school)

like you got all these clothes but chose this particular england shirt ? 🥹🥹

(as if half her wardrobe isn't his jerseys from every club he's been at)

(+ jerseys he exchanged with other players and signed jerseys by football legends)

he would sooo show her off to his teammates

“yeah my girl knows how to read now” 😎

and show every picture of her EVER

even the embarrassing ones

100% would introduce his friends as uncles

“say hi to uncle gio” (🫠)

now hear me out bc i think it's my favourite idea

he would totally look up hairstyles tutorials for your babygirl and try them out

once he gets the hang of it, he would never stop finding new ones

and since he doesn't have a sister, he would go to his mum for advice

on hair, but also girl stuff so he can pretend he already knows it all in front of you

you'd also go to his mum to advice tho, because being a parent (especially a mum) is never easy

and she would gladly share all of them with you

when you get into fights with jude your girl would always try to make it better

“dad says he's sorry”, “mum said she's not mad anymore”

of course you both know she's lying but somehow it always works ???

so your relationship is the prime example of what she's looking for when she grows up

and she secretly hopes she gets to love her s/o just like her parents love each other (too corny now ?)

anyways jude would treat you both like his little princesses, and he's so so so grateful he gets to live a lifetime with you two

or maybe more than two who knows 🚶‍♀️

#is it too messy ??#or is it readable ?#is this too much ?#yeah probably #jude bellingham x reader #football x reader #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham #jude bellingham headcanons #football one shot #football fluff #football imagine #football headcanon

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yaut-jaknowit · 6 days

Note

Male Yautja with Single Mom Human who got pregnant with Her Ex-Husband who Later Left Her and had Twin Sons and They Both Probably Calling Yautja "Dad" Even though They're not Biological But It's Still Family to Him (Sorry,If It's Not Suitable for Your Fics or/and Headcanons then That's Still Fine) also Will be Platonic at First Then Fluff Romantic,I Think?

Blood in the Water

Pairing: T'a'yta (male Yautja) x AFAB/Mother!Reader

Word Count: 5367

Summary: T’a’yta happens to be around and sees the struggle of this mother. He reveals himself and the mother grows uncertain about him and nearly attacks him. He takes no offense and offers to take her and her children to their home. From there, she offers T’a’yta a chance to swing by at a later time to her house to show her appreciation.

Author Note: Anything really goes with my stories. I write what the people want. I love doing that. I wasn't able to fully finish this to the end of your ask, I hope that's okay. It is about ten pages long so there is plenty to read! To be honest, I love this idea. Though there has been a lot of asks like this of late. What's going on guys?

Masterlist

Ao3

The worn engine sputtered and clunked. It gave one last screech before it fell silent. The forward momentum kept it rolling for a football field length before coming to a halt. Now dead in the water, you attempted to turn the key in hopes it would turn back over. It didn’t even give a cry at the try. You cursed under your breath and glanced in the rear-view mirror.

Two toddlers happily kicked their feet, entertained by the outside world of rolling plains. One of your sons, Shawn, whined when the movement of the hills were stopped. “Mama!” he called to you and pointed to the outside world.

“Yes, I know, baby boy. Mom’s gotta fix the car and we’ll be back on the road,” you answered and pulled your phone out to call for help.

At the top of the screen, it read no bars. You cursed to yourself again. A bad habit you needed to stop but have yet to do so.

The second son, the eldest by eighteen minutes, whined and shook his empty bottle in your direction. Simon looked at you with pleading eyes. You unbuckled and turned around in your seat. Both of your children were oblivious to what was happening. A simple road trip to see your folks on a surprise visit was going terribly wrong. Clearly.

It took you less than two minutes to fill up his sippy cup with more water to hold him over for now. You patted each child’s knee and gave them a look. “Okay, I need you two to be good. Mama’s going to get out and see what’s wrong with the car, okay?” Both of them looked at you with little thoughts between their innocent eyes.

With a sigh, you slipped out and popped the hood. Off the top of everything, you couldn’t see what was wrong to have this happen in the middle of the nowhere. Not a build or car in sight. Then your phone, no service to call for help. Anyone to drag your beat up car to a mechanic. It’ll cost you leg but at least your car would be working.

After your divorce with your husband, everything has gone downhill from there. The love you once saw in his eyes disappeared during the pregnancy… The man you once loved faded after you gave birth to his children.

He despised how big you grew, especially with twins. Let alone, yes, the mood swings and cravings. Pickles and peanut butter weren’t health but you needed to have them or you’ll start to cry. Not your proudest moment.

The stretch marks. He was absolutely disgusted with them and refused to touch you, even to help bathe when you couldn’t. You had just been spilt in half to birth two children he wanted and your own husband wouldn’t look at you. That hurt. A lot.

You leaned over the engine bay and sucked in your tears at the flashbacks when your life fell apart. You wouldn’t be stuck in this position if it wasn’t for him. It was all his fault.

Nothing flashed to easily fix the issue. You gave a sigh and returned to the drivers seat. All you needed was this day off to sleep in and relax. Except, the world continued to drag you to the deepest pits of hell to suffer.

In the mirror, you smiled with love sparkling in your eyes. Despite everything that has happened over a year ago, you wouldn’t trade the world for those two boys. They are your world, in all honesty. Both of your children went back to entertaining each other with the toys you’ve brought. Doing this for a year and half, you learn a thing or two.

This situation didn’t give you much for options. You looked around the car to see if that could help because you were truly clueless. If it was just you, you could start the long walk to find cell service. Yet with the twins in the back, all you could do was stay and hope for help. Hopefully help does come or you’ll be in deep trouble once night comes. Or the heat that’s starting to build up inside the car.

In a last-ditch attempt, you turned the keys for your car. As much as you wanted to hope for it to suddenly roar back to life, it stayed silent and dead where it had come to rest. Why did this have to happen to you, right here, in the middle of absolutely nowhere?

The driver side door was open to let in a breeze as you checked your phone again. Just the same reaction to your run-down car. Useless.

While the time ticked on by, your sons grew restless, strapped safely in the car. They whined to get out since the car had been stopped for some time. With no sign of rescue in sight, you slipped out of the car and got into the back seat. Both of them reached for you as you unbuckled them from their restraints.

Shawn was the first to be released and stood on weak legs. His twin brother came to his side and gazed out into the hilly plains that surrounded the three of you. Simon tightly clutched his cup as he wobbled away from you. A close eye was placed on the boy while he sought to explore his surroundings.

On the other hand, Shawn stayed at you lowered form and clutched to your hand. When his brother got to far from him though, he left your side to follow him.

All the hairs on back of your neck stood up. You straighten your spine and scanned the surrounding lands for any sight of a possible other person or animal. Yet, there was nothing to be seen this far out. Nor did anything move and catch your attention. The feeling refused to leave and stuck to you like cold honey.

As the feeling dragged on, your heartbeat increase with each passing second. You could hear it, thundering in your ears. You were already moving towards your two exploring children when you hear clicking. Instantly, you snatched your twin sons up and backed towards the car.

Your back hit met with warmth. Live warmth rather than the steel of a car. You spun around, hands occupied by holding Shawn and Simon at the same time. Nothing immediately caught your attention, and that made the dread brewing in your stomach to worsen. It burned you from the inside out as you tried to plan either an escape or to fight whatever threatened you.

When the light caught something in front of you, you truly peered at what could be blocking your path. You gasped and stumbled back, nearly tumbling over your own big feet. Something was standing in front of you, almost invisible to the naked eye. It was when you didn’t even know to look for it.

Tiny hands clutched at your clothing due to your reaction. Shawn was the first to bury his face into your chest to seek protection. Yet, Simon wiggled and squirmed in a way that made it hard to hold him. You couldn’t even look down to give him the famous mom stare to get him to stop it. “Simon, stop moving!” you ordered the eldest twin, but he didn’t take your tone seriously.

Before you could drop him, he slid down your side to the ground. You snatched his wrist before he could run off to gods knows where. The young boy struggled against your firm grip. “Simon, I swear!” But he refused to listen even when you sent the stare directly at him.

It hurt you to do this but this was a dangerous moment. You roughly tugged on Simon’s hand and dragged him away from the camouflaged creature before you. He screamed in frustration and started to hit your hand. “I am your mother! Listen to me, goddamnit.” At a later time, you would hold him close and apologize for your harshness. Yet, with an unknown threat hanging before your sons, you acted in instinct to protect them.

Simon glared his own tiny daggers at you and clawed at your tight grasp. A bruise could appear later but right now, when you didn’t know was standing in front of you. There were a lot more important things to fret about than a bruise.

Like from a comic book or sci-fi movie, a humanoid form waxed into appearance. All the muscles that lined your back tensed. A cold dread entered your fiery veins and froze you to the spot. Simon was able to escape ran up. You stared in terror and gripped onto Shawn, unable to react in time.

The figure sat down on its haunches, still a towering form, and tilted its head at the bouncing child. His exploration side flaring its head at the worst time possible.

Your heart thundered in your ears, roaring like a storm brewing in the middle of the sea. Simon reached it on wobbly legs and flopped onto the thick thighs of this ‘person’. You couldn’t tell what it was.

A metal mask covered its facial features, leaving you blind to what laid behind. Primitive armor of sorts covered the most important parts of a human. Relatively close to a fishnet like wire covered its body starting from the neck and down to its legs. It was ripped in some areas, clearly used and worn. Worn for what? And… and why was it wear stripper clothing?

Out of your children, Simon had to be the people person. He hugged onto this things leg like a lifeline and giggled his cute little laugh. Any other situation, you would’ve smiled at him and laughed alongside him. You clutched Shawn tighter to your side and watched with bated breath for this thing to do something.

The masked person reached out and offered a massive, scaly hand to Simon. The young child ‘oo’ed at the sight, immediately drawn to the different skin texture than his own.

Shawn began to squirm in your hold. You whipped your head to gaze at him. He made grabby hands towards his twin brother and the humanoid creature. The hairs along your arms bristled. “Absolutely not!” you scolded and returned your gaze on the two.

The incredible size difference didn’t seem to effect this being. Instead, it looked like they took it into great consideration and was soft with the way it moved towards him. Simon latched onto the offered limb and brought it up to his face for a close examination. With a bout of excitement, he spun around and thrusted the hand into the air. “Mommy look!” he cheered as if he had found gold.

A great amount of weight lifted off of your shoulders. You nervously laughed with an unsure smile. “That’s great honey. Now, come over here, please,” you demanded rather than ask Simon to listen to you for this once. Yes, it seemed like the thing humanoid wouldn’t hurt a hair on Simon. You refused to let your guard down for one millisecond. Life lessons and all that fun stuff.

Simon started to pull on the hand, tipped with short yet lethal claws. Talons that could gut you or your children if you did one wrong move.

What had you gotten yourself into? A day vacation turning worse with every passing second.

You watched with a fragile gaze, on the verge of breaking if it moved for an attack. Parental instinct and all that would damn you in this situation. If this creature turned, you couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Not with the way it held itself. Not pride… no. But with an air that consisted that it knew what it was doing.

It followed after Simon, letting him guide it over to you. The entire time, hunched over to allow constant contact with the older twin. Simon stopped in front of you and offered the hand to you; to check it out yourself. “No… no honey,” you refused and shook your head kindly. “I’m all good. I-I can see.” You cursed the slip up stutter in your words. Not like it couldn’t read the terror shining in your eyes, or the realization this creature could kill you at any second.

“Mama, take. Look.” Stubborn as a mule, a trait the two of them got from both of their parents. Shawn squirmed in your hold again and finally slipped down. On his feet, he stepped up to the masked figure and wrapped his arms around one of its legs.

Then, a glint entered Simon’s innocent eyes. The older one latched onto the other leg and looked up at the imposing figure who stood at least a good head taller, if not two.

“Kids,” you called to them but didn’t gain their attention. “Simon, Shawn. Let go. We… we need to get going.”

“Mister, what you are?” Shawn asked and tugged on a long piece of cloth tied to the waistband of the figure’s pants. You were growing frustrated at the lack of obedience in such a dire situation from your children. If you were to survive this, you were going to have a long sit-down with them and ensure they knew the consequences of not listening. Especially when their life could be in danger.

Worst of all, you couldn’t even plan a way to attack this lumbering giant. The thing was massive not just in height but in stature as well. The barrel chest, large muscles that adorned its arms and legs. You didn’t dare even take a step towards it. Not when it could see you as a threat and leave you a bloodied mess for your sons to witness.

“You better listen to your dam,” a voice that easily matched the body spoke in a tone that left little room for arguing. Yet, it wasn’t to threaten or cause any issues with you. Not, he seemed to be attempting to help you in this situation. Then, he tilted his head up and looked at you with emotionless dark pits. “I’m not going to harm them.”

As much as you prayed for those words to be completely truthful without doubt, you still kept your guard up.

“But, I know how dams can be. Protective over their littles.” The more it spoke, the more you realized it wasn’t an average person’s voice you were hearing. It sounded a bit gruff, rough around the edges, as if it wasn’t a language he was meant to speak. He rose his arms in surrender and offered his palms towards you. “I extend a helping hand instead to show I do not have intentions of harm towards your family unit.”

You straightened yourself and set a glare on the masked beast. “Who and what are you?” you demanded and possibly pushed your luck with his declaration earlier. Before you can offer him a single once of your trust, he must be willing to fork over ten times of yours worth.

He settled back down on his haunches and allowed for you to take the tallest title for the time being. Simon and Shawn were forced to move and practically thrown themselves onto his thighs. “What are you?!” Shawn interrogated their newfound friend. Worse than the monster friend in their closet that freaks you out every time they talk about it.

He’s able to pull himself onto one of the beast’s thighs with his help. Shawn sits unsteadily and pointed at the metal mask adorning his strange friend’s face.

The entire time the creature interacts with your children; the way he’s extremely gentle, slow movements; the way he gets down to their level; the way he doesn’t mind them climbing on him… he must be a father himself or knows great patience. You only let your shoulders slack a centimeter.

Still on his haunches, he tilted his head up slightly to gaze at you once more. Without saying a word, his hands come to the mask and go through a worn routine of disengaging it. Muscle memory detached the metal from his face.

Your head jerked back yet you didn’t make a sound. That wasn’t what you were expecting. Then, you blinked a few times. This thing wasn’t anything on earth. No, not with the way if just appeared out of thin air and the facial structures. “You’re an alien, aren’t you?” you questioned, breaking the quiet air that filled the space.

What you believed to be an alien smirk graced his features. One of his strange four fangs rose into a grin. A knowing glint entered his baby blue eyes. “A smart dam,” he mused and bowed his head in a slow motion. “Yes, you caught me. I am an alien in your terms.”

“Alien?” Simon questioned and turned his head to look at you. “Mama, what is alien?” On the other leg, Shawn had spun around with the careful guide of the creature and leaned into his torso.

“An alien is a species that comes from space, not native to our planet,” you explained, hopeful the terms were small enough for either of them to understand. Then, you returned a hardened gaze the alien. “Do you have a name?” Again, you wanted to know what was possible before even entertaining the idea of accepting whatever help he thought was right for the situation.

He lifted his head back up. “T’a’yta and yours?” he returned the gesture in full warmth. The longer he talked with you, the more you grew to be lax around him. Not by much but enough to loosen the tension growing in your muscles.

It was soft on your lips, your name. He tested it on his alien tongue then gave each child a gentle shove off. They whined but were given no choice besides off. Shawn came back to your side and held onto your leg in the same manner he did to T’a’yta.

“And what is this help you offered in the beginning?” you asked afterwards. The cedar-colored alien returned to his full height but a respectful distance away from you.

His head turned towards the crappy car that had started all of this. “I see your mode of transportation has failed you. I have one of my own. I couldn’t bare to turn a blind eye to a dam in trouble. I would like to offer you a ride back to your home,” T’a’yta explained and glanced over your shoulder.

Your expression softened at his confession, eyes flickering down at your children. They had to be getting hungry. The snacks you brought probably won’t last longer than an hour. There was night as well. Darkness would soon swallow you and your family up… and you didn’t know how long it would be before help arrived.

Despite him not showing any signs of harm, you still eyed the creature with suspicion. “And what do you want in return?” you retorted and gave him a hardened stare. You had found aliens exist yet you didn’t know if this one was completely friendly. Who knows what it might do to you if you put your guard down?

T’a’yta snorted and shook his bowed head. “I do not want anything as payment. I’m not doing this to except something in return.” A person with years of patience built under his belt. He didn’t act offended by your question and simply answered it. He didn’t give you any reasons for doubt. “If you wish not for my help, then I accept that. But I will not leave until you and your little ones are safe.”

If only your ex-husband was as thoughtful as a random alien willing to protect you out of nowhere.

The decision came quick to you. You nodded your head towards T’a’yta. “Alright. I’ll accept your offer… Thank you.” T’a’yta smiled at you then motioned his hand for you to turn around. You quirked a brow before slowly listening to him and spinning on your heel. The alien moved around you, your children in tow as they followed the coolest thing they’ll ever see in their lives. You smiled to yourself at the sight shadowed after T’a’yta.

He led you about a hundred yards from the road before coming to a stop. Confused, you paused as well and waited for him to reveal why he had taken you this far from the road.

Unease boiled in your stomach. You eyed the alien with a weary eye all over again yet kept your trap shut in case something you said could turn him.

One hand pressed two buttons on his metal gauntlet. In a similar fashion of how he waxed into existence, a spaceship appeared before your very eyes. This was very Stars Wars like. Your jaw dropped as you stared upon this craft and alienness it had.

A hiss sounded from the metal ship before a ramp began to lower from the belly. It felt like you had been transported into some sci-fi movie.

You were pulled from your shock by a tug on your leg. Shawn stood at your feet and put his arms up for you lift him. Muscle memory had you bending down and scooping him off of the ground. He looped his arms around your neck then looked over at T’a’yta. You walked over to the alien and stood shoulder to bicep with him. “I can’t believe aliens are real,” you whispered the confession.

T’a’yta snorted and shook his head. The weird rubbery, round bands that hung from his domed head snaked with the movement. Metal trinkets adorned the dreads and clinked against one another. “Oomans and their lack of thoughts. Aliens have always existed. There’s always something out there in the big, expansive universe. Not even I know what all lies out there and I’m over five hundred years old in ooman years.” As he spoke all of this, he began to stroll over to the ramp and leading the group. You followed along, hooked into everything all despite the possible danger.

At his last few words, you stopped mid-step with a bewildered expression falling upon your features. “Five hundred?! Five hundred?” you sputtered and blinked a few times to comprehend all of this. Not that you knew what an old whatever his species is looked like, he didn’t even act like someone even hitting thirty.

“Again: lack of thoughts. You will never be alone out there. Life finds a way.” He reached the top of the ramp and motioned for you to keep up. Even Simon was able to run after him with that cute little toddler run and looked back at you.

“Stop being slow, mama. Keep up!” Simon scolded with a childish scowl and held onto T’a’yta’s leg. The cedar brown alien bent at the waist and patted the top of your son’s head.

Simon let a grin spread across his face and leaned up into the affection. You sighed and strolled up the ramp after them.

The new sight of the inside of an alien spaceship washed over you. Yet, it was surprisingly subtle in here. There was detail in here but mostly simple designs. Just a vehicle for transportation or something who didn’t need much to be happy.

Once you had entered along with them, T’a’yta pressed the same two buttons again. The ramp hissed again and began to close. T’a’yta motioned with a jerk of his head to follow after him and started to walk further into the ship. You took a deep breath and listened to him with just a hint of apprehension in the moment. The door to the outside world was now closed, locking you in here with him.

Through three doors, he took you to what had to be the cockpit of his ship. Out in the distance, was a tiny white dot on the road. Your car.

“I would advise you to take a seat during takeoff,” T’a’yta expressed and sat down on a seat that easily fit his larger complex. His hands moved with muscle memory as they went over the console, typing and pressing the proper buttons. You listened to the engines fire up underneath your feet before stepping up to a chair that you knew would swallow you up.

You sat down and held Shawn close to you. Simon was still at T’a’yta’s feet and held onto his knee. With a sigh, you patted your leg. “Simon, come here,” you called to your other son.

T’a’yta easily scooped the child off of the ground and held him in one arm close to him. “It’s alright. You’ve got your hands full with the one. I can watch over this one.”

At first, you apprehensive about letting him hold Simon. Yet, you pushed down the helicopter mom instinct inside of you and slowed your heart down.

The ship rumbled while T’a’yta added power to the engines. They started to lift the vessel off of the ground and further into the air. You gripped onto the chair and held Shawn close. Being in a plane was completely different than this. You held your breath, tense as you felt the craft lift off even more.

“Now, where to?” he questioned with an ease voice, soothe. Your eyes cracked open without realizing they had been shut and glanced over at him. T’a’yta cradled Simon close to him while letting the child have room to wiggle if he so pleases.

An address tumbled out of your lips. T’a’yta let his fingers glide across a screen and hit enter. His hand fell away from the controls. The giant alien swiveled around in his chair to face you.

“In all my years, I’ve never once crashed any of my ships. I promise you with my heart you and your offspring are safe in my hands.” His words helped ease a little tension sitting on your shoulders. “You are free to move about as well. Take-off can be a little unpredictable in some cases.”

He easily picked up Simon and set him back on ship’s floor. Said child began to explore his newfound surroundings with vigor. To ease the tension settling in your bones, you nervously smiled at T’a’yta. “You know, Simon is a huge explorer. He’s gonna find something he shouldn’t probably be in.”

Two of his upper mandibles quirked up. “Sounds like me when I was kid and I turned out fine,” he jestered and motioned towards himself. You huffed through your nose. The alien was scared and armored, ready to take on an army at a moment’s notice. Now, that you were thinking about. He probably could take on the army.

Shawn shifted and slid off of his lap. “And there goes Shawn. Wherever Simon goes, Shawn loves to follow him,” you said to the quiet air and watched as the two went over to the controls.

Even to you, the controls sat higher than you thought was comfortable to use. You knew they wouldn’t be able to reach them.

“They are twins, yes?” T’a’yta asked and leaned back in his chair, lax in his position. From the corner of your eyes, you glanced at him. Despite the terrifying creature he looked like, he showed nothing but peace. You reclined in your chair and brought your legs to sit comfortably in the large seat.

The ship lightly shuttered at the touch down. Both of your kids whined but otherwise stayed silent in your arms. T’a’yta moved from his seat and stalked over to your seat. With a tired look in your eyes, you looked up at him and gave a weak smile at him. The days events had dragged away what energy you had left. T’a’yta nearly talked you into sleep. Your sons have already dozed off at least an hour ago.

His towering form stood before you. “I can carry them for you,” he offered in a voice no louder than a breath. The smile only grew on your features. You timidly nodded your head. T’a’yta easily scooped both of them out of your lap and cradled them close to him. A move only an experienced father would know and be able to do after so many times.

You untucked yourself from the seat and stood up, arms stretched high above your head. Little thought was given to follow the large mass as he moved through his own ship. He kept a pace you would be able to shadow easily in your tired state.

In all of its run-down glory, your apartment complex greeted you. With a sigh, you pulled your keys from your pocket and found the proper key. This time, you guided T’a’yta to the third level and towards a door you’ve grown to learn after a year and half of living here. You kept an eye on the alien’s gaze but it didn’t change one bit. Either, he was amazing at steeling his expressions or he truly didn’t judge the conditions of your living. It was the best you could supply on one income.

The inside of your apartment hadn’t changed one bit over the course of twenty four hours. You breathed in its familiar scent, relieved to be home. You glanced back at T’a’yta who had to duck to enter your dwelling. Both of your sons are still cradled in each of his arms. A soft smile was brought to your face at the sight. You walked over to their shared room. “Over here,” you whispered into the silent air.

T’a’yta entered and set both children down in a bed. It didn’t matter which one. The two of you exited the bedroom for the living room and sealed the door behind you.

With just him in your presence, you could feel a little more at ease. You didn’t need to worry about your children getting harmed in anyway around him.

“Thank you… for everything. I’d still be out there right now,” you voice your appreciation to the alien. T’a’yta stood a respectful distance away from you and yours bedroom door.

He bowed his head. “I’m glad to be of assistance.”

Now, a silence fell over the two of you. You gnawed on your bottom lip, words on the tip of your tongue. When he dipped his head and went to turn away, you sprung forward and gripped his arm. His skin was warm the touch and rough underneath you softer fingertips. Instantly, you jerked your hand away, hoping you hadn’t offended him.

“Do-don’t go… I-“ you cleared your throat and had to look away when he turned to you. “I would like to offer you a chance for dinner. As a thank you. I would cook you dinner. Or-or, you’re more than welcome to come back at, at anytime.” You were on the verge of face palming at your stupidity and nonsense you sputtered to him.

The alien chuckled, shoulders jumping with the sound. “I told you. There is no need for repayment. I did this out of the kindness of my heart.” You gave him a pleading look. You didn’t want this to be the last time you saw him.

“I know this. Please, just entertain my stupid idea.” T’a’yta looked at you for a long time before shrugging. Your face brightened with a smile, toothy and all.

“Alright. I shall return into three days. Is that enough time for you to plan this dinner?” he questioned.

You rapidly nodded your head. “Plenty. Thank you, thank you. Again. I-I just want to ease my consciousness. I wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully knowing I’d done anything to thank you.”

“Of course. I will see you in three days’ time.” T’a’yta took his leave then. The door softly clicked behind his retreating form.

A new silence engulfed you. You turned around and faced the door your children were in. They were safe because of T’a’yta. An alien. He was nice. Much nicer than a lot of folks you’ve met and he was an alien. An alien who looked like he could crush your skull with two fingers. You took a deep breath in before heading to your own room. It had been a long day.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #predator x reader #alien vs predator #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #T'a'yta

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cinnbar-bun · 3 months

Text

Heartless Giant- Chapter 1

(Excuse the banner)

Pairing: Crocodile x GN!Royal!Reader

Rating: SFW

First part of a collaboration with @fanaticsnail 's Storyteller collection! I chose to do the "Heartless Giant" with Crocodile. Thank you for having me as a part of this, dear <3!

Summary: Your older brothers claim that the man who tried to overthrow your kingdom is still in the dungeons below. Such a monster shouldn't possibly exist, right? After a bet and a promise, you and your brothers travel down the dungeons to find the proclaimed "giant". Those rumors should be nothing more than gossip... right?

Notes: GN!Reader, Prisoner!Crocodile (for my Impel Down Croc lovers), implied age gap, Reader is an adult but age is not specified, violence, bad siblings, protective Crocodile, "falling for my father's enemy" teehee

You can read this on my AO3 here!

Word Count: ~2.7k

It happened years ago, they said. A man- more akin to a beast, if anything- tried to take over and kill the king. Your father, ever the gallant ruler, fought the giant beast and sentenced him to eternal imprisonment in the lowest cell of the castle dungeons.

A part of you was thankful you were not there to witness such a sight. To see your beloved father have to fight what was perhaps the scariest enemy in a long time would’ve frightened you. Yet, another part of you was admittedly… curious. Your elder brothers always warned you against going to the dungeon. They always joked that the giant would eat you and your heart.

“He towers over everyone… his shadow looms over everything,” the eldest would say. Your second brother chuckled along with him before hunching his back and cupping his left hand.

“He’s got a big hook, too. If his ugly face sees ya, he sinks it into ya!” He swung his arm around like it was a hook and your third brother pretended to be scared. He grinned after his performance and slunk to you.

“And, father says, with only his right hand, the giant takes away your life. He just,” your brother covered your face with his right hand and shook you while growling loudly. “Drains you until you’re a husk!”

You shove your brother off of you and roll your eyes.

“There’s no way anyone like that exists,” you huff and adjust your appearance. Your three older brothers laugh wildly, as if you had told the funniest joke in history.

“Oh come on, you didn’t see him!” The third one says. “You were on a different island!”

“I doubt you saw him, either,” you cross your arms. “You guys would be terrified if a man like that really existed.”

“Are ya callin’ us liars?” The second one frowns and raises a brow. “Don’t make us throw you into the dungeon with ‘im!”

“Maybe I am! Why would you go and try to make a joke out of a man that father had to battle like that?”

“Ugh, there you go, again,” the first rolls his eyes. “Can’t even take a joke!”

“I think all those books ruined yer brain, (Y/n),” the second chortles as he points at the book in your hand.

“I think all the seawater melted yours,” you shoot back and hold your book tighter.

“Well, I just hope you can fight if that beast breaks out one day!” The third one laughs. He takes his sword out of his holster and swings it with calculated precision. He sheaths his sword and you sigh.

“We can hope he never does,” you reply. “Maybe you three will be courageous enough to actually look him in the eye.”

“Those are fighting words! Ya think we can’t look him in the eye?” The second yells.

“I don’t think so,” you taunt. “He probably doesn’t even look anything like what you just said.”

“Fine. We’ll take ya down to see him and prove to you how dangerous he is. And when you cry, we won’t save you.”

Seeing your brothers so adamant to prove themselves made your arrogance rise as well. Not to mention, that little voice in your head that was always, always wanting to see the man your father had cursed under his breath over and over since that day. In a sick, twisted way, you wanted to see the man that nearly brought your kingdom to ruin when you were away.

“Fine. We can all go together and we’ll see just how tough you are from the ‘giant’.”

Your brothers smirked and nodded. The eldest stepped forward and whispered. “At midnight. Be quiet. The guards and father are having a meeting tonight. Use the back staircase and we’ll all meet by the doors.”

All four of you shook upon it and continued with your day. Your heart raced, your thoughts drifting to that beast locked away in the dungeons.

A man who towered over everyone. A man with a hook. A scarred face. The power to take life away with only his right hand.

You tried to imagine how this monster would look, but all images your mind conjured were hideous and unsightly. You shivered, yet the way your feet bounced with nearly every step gave away the excitement you secretly held inside.

After pretending to fall asleep on your bed, you waited till the moon was at its highest and opened the door. You peered out the hallways, checking if the coast was clear before scurrying along to the rendezvous point with your brothers. Just as they had promised, the three of them were waiting for you with eager grins and smiles.

“So you really did come?” The first chuckled. “Thought you would’ve hid away.”

“I wasn’t going to,” you clicked your tongue. “I’m ready to see how you three will react to him, though.”

“Please, that man’s got nothing on us,” the second dismissed. “Four against one, he’s done for.”

“More like three against one,” the third snorted, nudging his head to you.

“I don’t need to fight. None of us should need to, actually. We’re just taking a look, and then we’re leaving.”

They glanced around before your second brother picked the lock to the cellar with a pin he had taken from your mother. They urged you inside and checked that none of you would be discovered.

The dungeons were dark, mildewy, and worst of all, freezing. You shivered as you realized your nightclothes were a bit too light for this cold place.

“Come on, hurry up,” your brothers whispered as they practically ran down the steps to the lowest dungeon level. You made an effort to catch up with them before you noticed how low the temperature was down here. Every time you and your brothers let out a breath, you could see the small amounts of steam cloud around you four.

They lived in such conditions…?

Your brothers quickly made their way to the farthest cell in the dungeon and laughed loudly.

“There he is!”

“Ahaha! My god, he’s hideous!”

“Come on, give us a glance!”

You gasped at what your brothers were saying. “Don’t say things like that! You know better than that.”

As foolish as you were to come down here, you were not foolish enough to insult the beast.

The third rolled his eyes. “Oh, quiet down will you?”

“What are you, our mother?” The first glared. He began to bang on the bars. “Wake up, will you?”

You made your way to the cell and noticed the looming shadow in the corner. His back was towards you and your brothers, barely clothed in the rags he wore. There were two large chains wrapped around his arms, preventing him from using them to escape and use the ferocious powers your brothers discussed. He was sitting, hunched over, yet, even in this position, you could tell how large and massive he was. He hardly moved or flinched at the noise your brothers made, making them more upset.

“Come on! Give us something! Look us in the eye!” They hit the bars again, but the man stayed as still as a statue.

This was the man who nearly ended your kingdom…

You didn’t need to see his face, but through his behavior alone, you knew that despite him being in the cell, you and your brothers were his prey.

“Cut it out, now,” you warned, the anxiety creeping in your voice.

“What? Scared? Scared the ugly beast will eat ya?” The second brother called out. The third brother continued to make loud noise.

“Come on, we got our little sibling here! Don’t you want to impress them, giant?” He yelled before he grabbed you and pushed you against the bars. You yelped in pain and from the cold metal pressing into your face and body.

“Stop it! Let me go!” You screamed.

“What happened to the beast who tried to end us? Huh? I thought you gave my father a good fight! So look at us!” The first glowered at the giant before he smirked at the ground.

“What are you doing? Stop that!”

“Would you just shut your mouth?” The first leaned down to pick up a large rock and tossed it in his hand. Your other brothers chuckled darkly while you shook your head.

“No… this wasn’t what we said we’d do! It was just to look!”

“He can’t do anything to us. Look at him. He’s wasted away. Just watch,” the first says as he pulls his arm back before launching the rock at the giant. It hits him square in the back of his head and echoes as it patters to the ground.

All is silent as you and your brothers stare. Yet, still, the giant does not move.

“What a waste! He’s a dumb ogre! Can’t even look at us properly,” the second sighs.

“Why would you do that?!” You shout at your brother. “Why would you throw that?”

“You challenged us to see if we were scared. I think that beast is scared of us! He doesn’t even move!”

Your brothers roared in laughter while you heard the rattling of the chains. Your eyes widened in horror as you noticed the man’s arms were beginning to move slowly.

“G-guys. Let go. We need to go,” you beg. “Let me go.”

You try and remove yourself from your brother’s grasp while they all laugh harder.

“What? Scared? You’re even stupider than him!” They tease you. The third shoves your face harder into the bars.

“Oh go on, you’re both stupid cowards! Go on! Why don’t you give him a little kiss? He might like that!”

You struggle against your brother as you hear the chains clink. Your brothers laughter echoes in the dungeon until the third screams loudly in pain.

You hardly have time to notice what is going on as you’re flipped around and see the third is on the floor, gripping his bleeding hand in pain while your other brothers are wide-eyed and trembling. Your back is now against the bars and you feel a cold metal against your throat.

You’re shaking, afraid for your life as you glance down to see a gold hook pressed against your skin.

Your other two brothers quickly unsheathe their swords and point it to the assailant, but their fear is evident by the way they can’t even hold their weapons properly.

“The g-giant…” the first whispers, quaking in his boots. You know it’s a bad idea. Every part of you is screaming to not do so. Your mind races with warnings and against your better judgment…

You lean back and try to glance up. You freeze as you look up to the giant’s sharp features. You can’t see much from this angle, but you can make out how tall he is. Your brothers’ descriptions of him didn’t do him justice, and you recognize how much more imposing his figure is.

He presses his hook harder, pulling you further to him. He was careful not to use the pointed end of it to hurt you, but in your current state, you couldn’t care.

A low grumble catches your attention as you realize it is the giant attempting to speak.

“Do not touch them ever again,” his low voice threatens. Your brothers are even more shaken by the giant’s voice as they squeak and stumble backwards.

“W-wait, don’t-” you cry, not wanting to be alone. Your brothers put away their weapons as they force themselves back up and run away, screaming bloody murder. Your heart sinks as you watch your brothers run off without you as their voices get quieter in this dark dungeon. The giant removes his hook from you, dropping you unceremoniously to the ground as you struggle to breathe.

“Go,” is all he says, his shackles shaking as walks back to his corner. You don’t know what to think.

“You’re not…?” You begin, unsure of what to say at all. Do you thank him? Apologize? Cry? Leave? You’re too stunned to know what to do next.

“No. Just go. You shouldn’t be down here, anyways.”

“Wait,” you call to him. “Why did you save me?”

“Would you prefer I kill you?” He sharply replies.

“No. I just… I didn’t expect that from you…” you mumble. He sighs.

“You were foolish for coming down here. And you were even more foolish for allowing them to use you like bait.”

“I didn’t think they would,” you admit pathetically.

“Of course you didn’t. Life’s pretty easy up there, isn’t it, your highness?” He bitterly laughs.

“Don’t patronize me. I just wanted to know why you would do such a thing.”

“Telling you wouldn’t make a difference. Just let me rest and rot away the rest of my life in peace, would you?”

You stop and nod, the adrenaline wearing off as you’re back to feeling the bitter cold on your skin. “Are you not freezing down here? You’re hardly wearing anything that could keep you warm.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Prisoners aren’t afforded that luxury, your highness. We stay in the cold and in this silence to pay for our crimes.”

The logic was understandable, but you felt a pang of guilt in your heart.

“I haven’t thanked you for saving me and stopping my brothers, yet,” you start, fumbling through the ideas in your head. “Thank you. As a show of my appreciation, I’ll bring you something to keep you warm.”

He stood still, as if considering your words. “You would do something like that for me?”

“Yes. I will do so. I’ll bring it down for you as soon as I can,” you assure him, feeling resolute in your decision. Criminal he may be, but royalty you were. Even the worst subjects required kindness and repayment for their actions.

He turned his body around, and you managed to see his face fully under the dim light of the lantern. His face was sharp, chiseled, and scarred. The scar ran across his face over his nose, and the stitches on it looked brutal. The dark circles and bags under his eyes were prominent, like the strands of hair that were falling and framing his face. It was clear he tried to slick it back, but given his situation, he couldn’t do much with it in this grimy cell.

You gasped at his appearance, taken aback by how strangely beautiful you found him. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest.

“Don’t worry, I get that a lot,” he smoothly teased. “Do I look like the monster you thought I was?”

“No,” you earnestly respond, surprising him, somewhat.

“Oh? Why is that?” Unlike your brothers, who cowered away in fear, you looked directly into his dark eyes with a firm resolve.

“You look just like a man…” you reply. His eyes flicker with light for a brief moment, before they return to the dull color they were a moment ago.

“Monsters can look like men, your highness. You should know better than that.”

“Yet you did not kill me when you had a chance. Would a monster spare me?”

“I guess not,” Crocodile sighed. “Perhaps I’ve gotten soft while being locked away for so long.”

“I can only hope. But I promise, I will bring you the gift soon.”

“Hm, don’t take too long, your highness. It gets terribly cold down here,” he replied in a drab voice. He turned himself around and faced the stone walls. “I don’t have anything else to say to you tonight.”

You were taken aback by his abrupt statement but chose not argue further. He had done you a massive favor, and you too would probably feel the same way if locked away here for so long.

“Thank you again,” you said to him before you pulled yourself up and dusted the dirt off your nightclothes. You glanced back at him, but the man was back to staying silent and not moving.

What a dreary life that must be…

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece oneshots #x reader #reader insert #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile one piece #storyteller au #heartless giant #the heartless giant

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vampirevatican · 2 months

Text

Bedtime in the House of Lamentation

pairing: om! brothers x reader

summary: you have a special sleep speaker that changes colors. they check in on your room when they hear noise at night, but it's not you and they find a lone light glowing their nail color or power

Lucifer - blue/red

classical music, but it's the chill kind... ya know the ones you can fall asleep to

fave songs but piano version

white noise

This was one of the nights he does his rounds of the house. Making sure his brothers, Mammon, weren't out causing trouble for him to deal with later. Being the eldest, when he does these check-ins, he'd just open the door and then leave the bedroom resident to whatever they were doing. He never thoroughly checked a room unless something suspicious was going on, or he's heard rumors regarding the resident and their bedroom.

So when he finally gets to the first floor he notes that there's a faint sound of classical music. He ends up at the front of your door and without a second thought he opens the door and is met with the speaker glowing, music flowing from it and your sleeping form.

It seems you tried to pull an all-nighter. Your phone still in your hand, covers not properly covering you, but sleeping so peacefully. A small smirk appears on his lips as he pulls the covers over you, making sure you don't get a cold, and then leaves the room. Maybe he'd need to get not cursed records and finish work earlier so you can fall asleep together.

Mammon - white/yellow

r&b. look me in the eyes and tell me he's not black. go on, yeah that's what i thought.

jazz... now hear me out, casino things

continuing casino stuff, casino ambience

When hears the faint sound of slot machines in the House of Lamentation he's in a whiplash of excited and confused. Didn't he just leave the casino? And there's no way in west devildom that Lucifer agreed to him wanting a mini casino in the house. So naturally he follows the sound and hopes for the later.

But no, it's coming from... your room?! Quickly opening the door he finds a small speaker emitting a light and your phone, charging, right next to it. "Casino ambience..." he whispers reading the title of the video in your phone screen after getting closer to it.

Awww his human missed him, well it's only right that he adds to this bedtime immersion by slipping into bed with you. Crawling into the bed with you, holding you close, he notices you almost stir awake and the small smile on your face. Damn, could you possibly be any cuter right now?! He rubs your back and soothes you back into your deep sleep and soon drifts off as well.

Leviathan - purple/orange

gamer lets plays are playing through the speaker

or maybe a game ost that has sleepy/chill vibes

acnh w/ rain background anyone?

He had left his room for a food break between gaming. He had a few raids and team rounds to do, but right now refueling was more important. That's when he hears something near the kitchen. Putting down his cup noodles he follows the sound and finds it coming from your room.

There was a faint light glowing from the crack in the door and it wasn't the usual bright yellow from the lanterns and fairy lights in the room. Pressing his ear to the door he recognizes the music being one of your cozy games. Gaining no answer from knocking on your door, or calling out to you, he opens the door and instantly covers his mouth. 'Oh my gosh they're so cute! WAIT NO THIS IS CREEP BEHAVIOR!! but...' He practically tip toes into your room and sees the speaker.

Doing a double take he leaves your room as quickly and quietly as possible... after a picture of you with the speaker's light on you first though... you're just too pretty and it's too heart-warming to know when you don't or cant sleep in his room, because you can't sleep, this is how you remedy it.

satan - green

or maybe r/no sleep, r/aita, r/dndhorrorstories, buzzfeeds are you scared

cat radio... no really cat fm

book readings

He's used to you falling asleep while reading to you, or when you'd spend time with him just to fall asleep on his lap waiting for him to finish his books. And yes he'd go cat watching with you. Even plotting to adopt a few if you both ever got the okay from Lucifer. Though he wouldn't have guessed things like that extend to you getting a good night's rest.

This particular night he was entranced by a book in the library when he heard... meowing? Though it wasn't normal meows, it was to the tune of some song. He knows that cats are known to sing sometimes but since when did either of you sneak one into the house? Following the sound he soon realizes that it's some kind of recording because what's next is a narration of a book he's read before.

Noticing the green glow from under the door he decides to check in on you and sees you knocked out. The sound of a narrator, close to his tone of voice, reading you a story as you dreamt away. He couldn't help but smile as a warm feeling took over his heart. To think you needed to hear him, or someone like him, read stories for you to properly sleep was too sweet to bare. He quietly closes the door and heads off to bed for the night.

asmo - pink

meditation or ocean sounds

true crime, makeup or both

honestly smthn that'd be trendy and recommended for sleep

First of all, he didn't expect for you to go to bed so early. Usually he's the one with an early bedtime but tonight was an exception. There was a party he was invited to and he couldn't just ignore his adoring fans.

So when he came back and heard a sleep meditation coming from your room, his curiosity gets the better of him. He decides to take a peek into your room and has to hold back a squeal over how you look sleeping. When it comes to beauty only you could rival him, and this even counts when you're sleeping!

His eyes follow where the faint pink glow is coming from and surprise! it's your little speaker. He can't help admire you and be glad you took up one of his trends. You really do care! Of course he does his bedtime routine and then cuddles up in bed with you. The pink mood lighting and how peaceful it is was just too hard to resist.

beel - red/orange

lullaby music, or 80's rock songs in music box style

podcast

snoring sounds

Beel is known for his late night kitchen rummages. Infact he got used to you not stopping him but helping by joining in or just keeping him company, you'd rarely scold him for his late night rampages. Though tonight you were no where to be found.

When he first passed by your bedroom it was relatively quiet, so he figured you were asleep. Not being able to eat how he usually would, concerned over your absence, he took only a couple snacks and checked on your room again before going back to his.

This time he notices a music box playing and a light coming from under the door. He peeks through a crack in the door he makes from opening it a little, and notices you sleeping. He smiles warmly and the grin becomes bigger when he sees where the light and sound is coming from. You and Belphie slept the same, covered with blankets and surrounded by pillows. It was endearing and he couldn't help but curl up in your room that night with his snacks.

belphie - purple/teal

fave songs but it's in music box style

asmr, and it's like a muffled city, keyboard typing, or rainy day, with music from another room

lofi

Being the Avatar of Sloth, he didn't have to go to you room to see how you were sleeping. Though you did peak his curiosity a little when he heard lofi music coming from your room. Surely you couldn't be so diligent, or a nerd, that you'd be studying at this time of night. Turns out his suspicion was correct, you weren't studying.

He was currently a by-stander of your dreams tonight and he takes note of how he appears in them. It wasn't like he was fully in your dream, no dream self to speak of, but instead things you associated with him.

Taking his powers a bit further he astral projects and finds himself right by your bed. A glow of light seems to pass through his spirit form and looking over he finds where it's coming from, along with what's making your dreams what they are. Smiling a little he looks over at your sleeping form, a bit of your face peeking out from the mass of covers, and notices that you're smiling too. "Cute." He whispers and decides to insert himself into your dreams. You wanted him so bad then fine, he'll be there.

#omswd #obey me! swd #obey me x reader #om! lucifer #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor

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diejager · 2 months

Note

Hi Joyce! This is my first time asking an author on this application, I saw you opened requests, so I have a little idea. What if this is like a side story/spin off from humans! reader x monster! 141TF AU's.

Where the reader (female) dies after giving birth to their child. And the husbands don't really take the news well, especially when their child is so physically/personality similar to the reader.

(if you read the webtoon who made me a princess then you know what I mean :) )

Thank you! Hope im didnt bother you

I’m honoured to be your first ask 🥺

Vestige Cw: angst, death, childbirth complications, single parenting, heartbreak, tell me if I missed any.

They hadn’t expected this to happen. They hadn’t expected this to be the last they’d see you. It was an unfortunate incident, they were told, a freak one that caused you to haemorrhage and they couldn’t bring you back despite how fast they acted to stop you from bleeding out. It felt like their world ended, the little light in the dark and traumatic place extinguished, a cataclysmic boom that sent their morals low and mind deeper into depression. Some drowned themselves in substance, others in physical pain to feel something other than heartache and agony, and a few were left silent, unmoving and mute.

But they had a little baby to care for, the last vestige of your love and presence. It was a gift from you to the people you loved, a memory of the times you all shared smiles and joy as much as you shared tears and sorrow. It was the light at the end of a particularly difficult hallway, shocking them back into reality like a bucket of ice water. They had to care and nurture a child —their sweet and innocent angel. She reminded them of you so, so much that it hurt.

“Yer a wee thing, aye?” Soap had always been the first to care, the first to love and the first to act. It might’ve been hard to provide for a child as a single father, but their sweet angel was as much theirs as his, a gift to share.

The first days were rough, none knew how to properly care for themselves, let alone a week old child! It was a slow start, passing a crying baby from one arms to the other without any idea of what to do. It was only until the eldest - Price, Alejandro and König - changed tones and put aside everything else to search up for childcare. In all honestly, they all had years of built up breaks that they rarely used to keep themselves busy to drive away the demons and keep their minds sound.

Little Jesse was shared between them, they took shifts separated equally to let the others rest or research. Soap, Gaz, Horangi and Rudy naturally fit with Jesse, capable of looking at her when she had her little mood swings and occasional tantrums. Soap and Rudy were prone to watch over her when she felt especially excited, hands grabbing and toothless gum biting, flaying her arms around to grasp at something to tug. Horangi and Gaz were softer, more mellow and made to supervise her when she was dozing off or on the edge of exhaustion, toes and fingers curling to hold someone’s hand to sleep.

Ghost was a little apprehensive about touching her, fearful that his curse would infect her, that everything he touched died, even the prettiest and most lively flower wilted in his presence. But König, a big and dangerous monster like the Austrian, showed him how even the most dangerous beasts could be a protector and provider. It was a slow process but he eventually made it where he could look at her the same way the others did, a perfect ball of sunshine.

How could they not love her? When she was the perfect copy of you, taking so many characteristics from you than them. She had the same eyes and nose, the equally bright smile and flushing cheeks and the shade of hair. And as she grew older, they could see your personality shine through her, you gave her as much of yourself as you could, hoping it would quell the heartache and agony.

Jesse was their favourite regret.

Taglist : @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry

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asumofwords · 9 months

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Miscarriage, death of a foetus, blood, depression, anger, angst, grief.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello sweethearts, please read the trigger warnings for this one. Tread carefully as always, and I love you all. I have absolutely LOVED seeing you all talking and thinking and even plotting on what is happening! Makes me so happy <3

Chapter 91: The Absence of Three

Aemond escorted you back to your chambers as you whimpered and hissed in pain. It was so overwhelming, and unlike anything you felt before. The pain came in waves, and it felt like your hips were being crushed together, your whole core clenching in agony.

Aemond kept asking you what was wrong, kept whispering to you what was happening, and each time he came to your side as you clutched the back of the chaise, another wave crashing through you, you grit your teeth and pushed him away with a curse.

“I shall fetch the Maester.”

“He’s dead.” You growled, hands rubbing against the front of your dress as anxiety climbed higher and higher within you.

“I shall fetch the other.”

“No.” You snipped, doubling over again.

And then you felt it.

Something wet and warm between your legs which felt familiar and foreign all at once. But you knew. Of course you knew. Because your body knew.

Aemond watched in confusion as you reached a hand beneath your skirts, grunting as you moved under the different layers.

Just as you mother once had.

Your fingertips pressed against the warm, wetness, and with slow movements, you brought it back out and away, your hand hovering in front of you.

But you knew.

You already knew.

They were covered in blood.

“What’s happening?” Aemond asked, spotting the blood.

But it was too late.

And you knew.

And he knew that too, but he was in denial. A sick and twisted attempt to undo what had been done, to have faith in his precious Seven that the child would be saved.

But deep down, he knew, just as you did.

It felt like the day your mother had lost your sister. Now only you in her place.

Is this what she had felt? Was this the agony she had endured?

But Rhaenyra's pregnancy was further along than yours, and she had to give birth to the body of your sister who was already still.

Would you face the same fate?

Agony rolled through you again, and you sobbed. Aemond rushed to your side, holding your back and one arm as you grunted. You squeezed his hand as the pain did not let up, nor ease.

As if thinking he could help, the fool that he was, the man that he was, for men don't truly know the horrors of being a woman, Aemond raced towards the door and called for the knight to bring the Maester.

You laughed humourlessly at him, watching as he turned around in confusion, your knuckles white against the back of the chaise.

“It’s too late.” You sobbed angrily, pushing away from the chaise as you stumbled towards the wardrobe, bending over as your hand reached behind it, Aemond watching with a hawklike expression.

“What are you doing?” His brows were furrowed from across the room, rooted to the spot as he watched you rummage at a wall.

“Something I should have done in the first place.” You spat back at him, pain, and anger, and grief moving through you. Your fingers finally found what they were looking for, grazing the small vial that you had wedged there, not too long ago.

Aemond took slow steps towards you, suspicion in his eye as you whimpered once again. With great determination, you pulled the vial from the wall, uncorking it with your teeth and bringing it to your lips.

The ruta root slid down the vial and into your waiting mouth.

Aemond stormed towards you, snatching the vial from your hand as he looked at it. You chewed hastily and swallowed, ignoring the foul taste on your tongue.

Aemond looked ready to break, his hand grasping your cheeks painfully, forcing you to open your mouth as his eye searched inside, finger following to try and feel or scoop what you had eaten, only to find nothing but remnants of the root.

“What have you done?” He asked in a rush, panic in his voice.

He thought you were trying to kill yourself.

“Ensured that it’s dead.” You sneered, the vile, bitter taste of the root on your tongue.

“What?” Aemond breathed, “Where did you get that?” The Prince panicked, looking at the vial in his hand once more as he turned it over rapidly.

“A parting gift from our Maester.” You grit, pushing away from him, and limping back towards the fire.

You stood by the chaise again, leaning against its back as your fingers dug into the wood. You bent forward, hand against your stomach in pain as another wave of agony rolled through you.

Aemond rushed towards you, trying to guide you to sit, but you slapped his hands away, irritation and pain and anger continuing to swallow you whole. The Prince stood and stared at you with his brow drawn, obvious fear in his eye as he watched you whimper and whine.

It was all too much. All too much.

Everything was too much. But your body took over, inhaling deeply despite your lungs feeling withered, and your throat feeling shut. A pain that came from nowhere and everywhere at once. Something that was concentrated and spread out, as though it was creeping up along your spine and into your ribcage.

Aemond moved from your periphery as another sob left your lips, a tear falling from your eye to drip onto the stone below.

When he came back to you, he did it carefully, whispering your name to coax you to look at him. And so you did. You looked at him with watery eyes, and a face full of agony and grief, and eyes flickering with rage.

Slowly, as though approaching a startled animal, Aemond lifted his hand. In his palm was a small cloth. A handkerchief or napkin, or perhaps even just a scrap of material. You did not know, nor did you care, as he moved to gently wipe at your face, swiping the light sheen of sweat that had gathered on your brow, and the stray tears that streaked down your cheeks.

Aemond waited for the Maester to arrive, tension in his shoulders as he hovered about you, unsure of how to tend to you as waves of contractions wracked your body.

“You did this.” You whispered, not looking at him, eyes locked on the fire place, where two dearly missed figures had begun to appear, “We lost the babe because of you.”

It was all a blur when the new Maester arrived, ordering you to lay in bed as he tried to give you Moon Tea to help with the continuation of the miscarriage. But you refused it, pushing it away from you, knowing the ruta root would do the job.

Aemond had ensured the Maester that he would get you to drink it, and had spoken quietly to him at the side of the room as to what to do if you became worse, or pale, or fevered with chill.

It was, in that moment, that you realised that this was the Maester that had once had sewn his face shut. A Maester who had tended to Aemond and his healing. A Maester that Aemond clearly trusted.

You lay in the bed in pain, feeling the wet blood between your thighs as you cried quietly.

It felt so familiar. To be in that bed, crying and bleeding.

Was it a curse? Was this what you were destined to? To be burdened with the pain of being a woman?

To be born a woman is to be cursed.

Another wave coursed through you and you curled on your side, clutching at your stomach as you tried to hum to yourself softly, anything to distract yourself from the pain that slid through you like a knife, your body reacting on its own, clenching and tensing.

Aemond sat himself on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he watched you cry and groan, shifting with the pain as your body began to get the urge to push.

It was so strange. It was just as Alicent said.

Your body would know what to do.

But it was too early.

And it was too late.

And the child that had begun to grow within you was gone.

Aemond brushed the hair that had stuck to your face from your sweat or tears, hushing you as the contractions rolled through you hotly.

You sobbed, grasping his hand as you squeezed, hoping to channel the pain through him.

“I’m sorry.”

The next days blurred together, and you found that you barely had the strength to leave the bed. The pain slowly subsided, but the sorrow had burrowed its way inside of you like mould. No matter how much you had tried to scrub it free, it would always come back.

The Maester had come to check on you multiple times a day, checking your condition, and ensuring that you passed the embryonic tissue completely.

It was after the third day that you found the strength to leave the bed. And it made you ache even more for you mother, as she lost her father, the throne and her daughter all in one day. She had to burn her daughter, and stand before the council, all in one day. She was crowned, all in one day.

She was stronger than you.

Stronger than most.

And you wished she was here.

As you shifted amongst the sheets, you moved to stand, but the sound of the sheets rustling caused Aemond to jump from his seat, padding across the chambers towards you as he offered you an arm, and held the top of yours gently.

Whincing, you shied away from his touch, “Please, don’t.”

“Let me help you.” Aemond insisted, and reached to try and grab your arm again.

Anger erupted from you, “You’ve helped plenty.” You snapped.

You moved slowly, grasping a cloak from its spot in the wardrobe, throwing it over your shoulders before slowly shuffling out of the chambers.

Pain was still in your body, grief was still in your chest.

You moved down to the Godswood, where you would always go and sit. To talk to the Gods. To talk to yourself. To simply be. But all you could do was think.

Did you do this to yourself?

When you thought of such things beneath its branches?

When you thought of losing the child to spite him?

Had you wished for this and the Gods had delivered?

That silken stillness of grief was back.

The leaves above you were quiet, no breeze to rustle them, nor birds to sing amongst their branches. It was all so quiet. So still. The world seemed to have stopped. Or it had stopped for you.

You sat for a time in your grief beneath the leaves of the Godswood, wondering what your child could have been, what they would have been like.

But it was not just the child that had been lost. You sat with the knowledge that the Maester was no longer here. And your allies in the Keep had dwindled dramatically.

Perhaps now, more than ever, was the time to ask for the star fruit.

But the eyes on you would be sharper right now, and your movements had to be more calculated and secretive moving forward.

They would all be waiting to you to act.

Or waiting for your family to react.

It was no longer as safe as you thought at the Red Keep.

Not that it ever really was.

Beneath the shade of the Godswood was where you sat until a familiar head of chestnut brown came to stand before you, a usual vision of green.

Alicent looked down at you sadly, and gave her shallow condolences.

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, keeping your eyes to the branches of the tree instead of letting them drop to the woman before you.

If you looked down, you were sure tears would spill over.

“How are you faring?” She asked tentatively, tone gentle.

All that the Dowager Queen got in response, was a soft rustle of the breeze and the silence of nothing. She stood for a moment more, if only waiting for your resolve to break, for you to turn and face her, seek her out as a daughter, like the one she was missing.

But you didn’t.

And so the older woman left you to be alone with the Old Gods.

You counted your breaths, and mentally filled the cracks in your chest with a thick, goopy paste, similar to the one the Maester had given you.

You thought of each stroke of your hand, filling in the gaps with the paste until there was nothing left to show. As though the cracks were never there to begin with.

Each stroke of the paste you counted, and each stroke you inhaled deeply.

On the twenty-seventh stroke in your mind, the twenty-seventh breath in your lungs, and the twenty-seventh count in your head, the gentle sound of feet atop grass pulled your attention away from the mental image and repetitive motions.

But the person did not come to stand in front of you, nor did they move to stand beside you, or even pass through the small courtyard. Instead, the feet stopped on the opposite side of the tree, and the rustling of robes indicated they had sat down beneath the Godswood.

Just by the action alone, a habit, muscle memory, memory itself, you knew it was him.

Aemond had sat beneath the crimson leaves and white speckled bark of the ancient Weirwood tree, behind you and hidden away, much like how he did as a child. And though, you could not see him, you could feel his presence greatly.

It struck a cord in your already string plucked chest.

“I did not tell Larys.” He whispered to you, voice almost lost to the wind.

“I told no one of what you did.” Your uncle paused, and you rested you head back against the bark, looking up into the shadowed sky, “He must have found out through his spiders.”

And once again, you believed him.

It wasn’t him.

He had not told Aegon.

Larys had.

You are both silent for some time, basking in the familiarity of it all until you heard him shift, and soon a shadow was cast across you, for however brief it was, before he sat himself down. His shoulder gently brushed against yours as he sat close to you, yet made no move to touch you with his hands.

And you were thankful for it.

As you sat in the silence, your mind raced away from you again, the sticky paste that you had crammed into the cracks, slowly dripped away to reveal them once more. With each drip of the paste, another crack was revealed, and with each crack revealed, another chip of your resolve crumbled away.

You realised that Larys didn’t care for Alys.

You had threatened him, and told him there were things that he didn’t know in your stupidity. In your anger. And in your moment of triumph against him;

You had hinted that you had an ally.

And so he had spun his web, and waited for his prey to lay a foot on one of his strings.

The Maester got caught in the web that was crafted to catch him.

You sat shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the branches together in the quiet knowing of your shared loss. Another thing that you would both endure. Another piece of grief to bring you two closer together.

“I don’t think I can survive much more loss, Aemond.” You whispered, surprising yourself to find your voice.

The One-Eyed Prince turned his head to finally look at you, hand coming to your lap to hold yours, touching the scar from the ceremony gently as he always did, almost as if he doesn’t believe that it is real.

As if he doesn’t believe that it is there.

That he would wake up one day, and you would be gone.

“I am sorry for my part in it.” His voice was steady.

Your heart clenched.

“No you’re not, because you wouldn’t let me suffer the way you do.” The words passed your lips, gentle and quiet, fragile as snow, the words lingering in delicate silk around you. A fatal movement of a hand could cause them to break, to crumple and fall apart. Even the breeze could blow too steadily, and whisk the silk threads away.

But they held strong. And they hovered above the two of you heavily.

“I am truly alone in this Keep.” You breathed.

You could feel Aemond’s eye on the side of your face, his hand tightening around yours.

“You are not alone.” He countered, head turned to look at you completely.

A small laugh escaped you, too tired to hold it in, too weary to stamp it out, and so you let it be, let it crackle from your dry lips that were bitten raw.

You looked down to where he held your hand. A hand that had hurt you. A hand that had taken from you. A hand that had given. A hand that had held, and caressed, and stroked. A hand that now loved, and cherished you.

The hand of the man who has so many sides.

“You and I both know that that is not the truth,” You confessed, “As much as we both wish otherwise.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

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tonkatsubowl · 7 months

Text

false love.

jing yuan x fem!reader nsfw themes (cursing and stuff i think. mentions of domestic abuse and self harm. mentions of suicide. no, jing yuan aint hurting u bb girl). read at your own risk. english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)

⪩ arranged marriage. the reader and jing yuan have an arranged marriage and she is stuck, disliking every moment of it, until...

TERM DIRECTORY ◖y/n: your name ◖e/c: eye color ◖h/c: hair color ◖l/n: last name

part two. / part three. / part four. / part five. / part six. / part seven.

"worthless girl," you hear your father say as he smacked down the scrolls onto the floor, "the most you can do for this family is to not be fucking useless and accept this marriage. but since you aren't listening, we will still go through it anyway."

but that wasn't surprising. your family was known to do things to and for you without your consent. this marriage? this arranged marriage? you didn't know about it until you woke up this morning, and apparently this had been planned for months now. you didn't know who you were getting married to, but according to your siblings (that also loathed you as the rest), you were getting married to a military leader.

you were the eldest child of the l/n family, and every first born child was expected to at least be married in their early ages, but if the child fails to meet that traditional requirement, then they would be forced into an arranged marriage.

in truth, you didn't trust anyone. you didn't go out as often, you didn't know a lot of men. you didn't trust any men. you weren't fearful, but with how the world is, you just couldn't trust anyone. and now here you are, forcing to sign your life away to a man you've never met. a man you will hate.

you were a quiet child. despite being the oldest, your younger siblings were treated with respect, love and care...because they seemed to be more talented than you. however, because you were the oldest, you were easy to get rid of. then again, your family wanted to get rid of you from the beginning. it was to the point where your father had practically brainwashed your siblings to dislike you. ultimately for no reason, too. but you just went with it. you were used to this treatment. why haven't you died sooner? you should've been successful in your past attempts.

"dear," you hear your mother call out to your father, "general jing yuan is here."

"ah, brilliant. we can get rid of this useless little girl once and for all." your father replied as he stood up.

as your father left the scene to greet your unknown fiance, you stared yourself at the mirror. you wore a crimson cheongsam, and some decorative ornaments that covered your visage. you sat there, solemn and dull, unable to truly feel anything. you...didn't feel beautiful, even though the house servants of your home had pampered you up enough to look..."decent" and "pleasing" enough to the eye. you just didn't see the beauty in you. you always thought of yourself as useless. ugly. worthless. and now here you are, still looking the same as you were being sent off to spend the rest of your life with some man you never met.

"y/n." a house servant enters your room, bowing formally. "it's time."

slowly, you got up, silently making your way to follow the servant to where the private wedding would take place. you walked past your younger siblings who followed their gaze with you, ultimately disappointed in you, and ready to get rid of their older sibling from the rest of their lives. they will never see you again. and you will never see any of these filthy relatives ever again. that was the best part, at least.

entering the room, you were greeted with the sight of an unfamiliar man who has his back turned towards you. his silver, fluffy hair held up, the government official who officiates your marriage, and your cruel parents to witness your marriage.

you didn't even dare to look at the general. you didn't care. you just wanted to die as quickly as possible. a part of you had hoped that he was kind enough to kill you the same day the both of you wed...so you didn't have to live in this world anymore where you were always hurt. always distrusting others. always meant to be a failure.

the general stole a look at you, however, but he didn't say anything. he patiently listened to the officiate's words, and replied with an, "i do". and you did the same, but your voice was quiet. delicate. precious. like a flower that was stomped on repeatedly, barely able to survive. wedding vows and other wedding-related stuff later, you were finally sent off to be escorted by jing yuan, his lieutenant yanqing, off into his home to live in forever.

standing before you was the sanctum, and you came here by a fancy carriage. the city was in celebration due to the general's wedding. others were happy, and you were the only person who...just didn't seem excited.

"y/n," you hear the general speak to you in a loving voice. dangerous, you thought. it's a lie. it's a fake. he's just acting sweet because he's your husband. behind closed doors, he'll... "we're here."

extending a hand towards you, he caught you flinching. you had thought that the general would hit you, or harm you in some way...but opening your eyes, you see that he merely wanted to hold your hand to escort you out of the carriage. slowly, you nod, taking his hand. shaking. you were afraid, but you tried not to show it.

unbeknownst to you, both yanqing and jing yuan made eye contact with each other briefly after you had flinched.

jing yuan carefully escorted you out of the carriage, and slowly wrapped his arm around your shoulder as he gave a wave towards his people. yanqing was nearby, and another made her appearance.

"ah, fu xuan," jing yuan greeted, "has everything been complete?"

"yeah," fu xuan replied, "lunch has been set up, as well as everything else. i made sure to give you extra dessert this time since you kept complaining last time." a roll of the diviner's eyes, earning a heart-filled laugh from the general. "congratulations on your wedding anyway. and ma'am... miss y/n." a formal bow. "i am fu xuan. master diviner of the divination commission, at your service. please do not hesitate to call for me if you need any assistance."

"haha! thank you, fu xuan."

you were silent, still. you didn't even respond. your eyes remain downwards, staring into nothingness below you. fu xuan looked at yanqing, then to jing yuan, who had nodded slowly. fu xuan nodded, as though they were communicating with each other in silence. then, the master diviner left, leaving you and your husband to enter the sanctum.

upon entering, you were greeted with more of his assistants and servants, which you didn't even bother to care about. you just wanted to disappear. you just wanted to⸻

"y/n." you hear the general's voice. "i hope everything has been to your liking so far. there will be a lunch that has been prepared for us this afternoon to celebrate. would you like some warm tea before hand?"

you paused for a moment as he looked down towards you. you were unable to look at him, but you would want some tea...only due to the fact your hands were cold. you wanted to hold a cup of hot tea to warm them up. "...⸻⸻yes."

it mustered everything for you to respond. god, you felt so weak. you were so delicate. jing yuan smiled softly at you, slowly reaching towards your hands...before stopping.

"...may i hold your hand, y/n?"

you pause, looking at his own hands which were close to yours. you were scared. you were hesitant. but... you were getting cold due to your anxiety.

"..." you nodded slowly, as he took your hands in his.

god, they were warm. they were...soft. they were rough due to the fact he's been in many battles, and they were...large. surprisingly enough, you felt...so safe. jing yuan felt your hands relax in his, earning him a rewarding smile for himself. "let's prepare some tea together. do you happen to favor jasmine?"

your eyes sparkled for a bit. yes, jasmine was your favorite. you loved jasmine tea. it was one of the few comfort teas that you would drink to calm yourself. this time, you displayed a bit of expression as you nodded. "y...yes. jasmine tea is actually my favorite."

"aah, is that so?" jing yuan chuckled, "it is one of my favorite as well. i'll be sure to brew it properly so you can a strong flavor. our tea has been harvested from the best of the best, after all."

you looked down, a bit excited. but you were afraid that if you showed any sort of emotion...you would get hit. but you kept your gaze low to your feet, not wanting to look...

then, jing yuan escorted you to the patio outside, which you were greeted by the sight of the beauty of xianzhou luofu. you could see the sky...you could see the birds flying. for the first time, you felt so...free. but you were unsure.

your husband escorted you to your seat, then right after, he began to brew the tea before you. you watched carefully, seeing everything that he did...and giving you the opportunity to actually give the general a look. he...was beautiful. his silver hair, his golden eyes... he seemed so trusting. he was beautiful. too beautiful. and you were married to him.

god, he must be in love with someone else. he was cheating on you, you bet. he was just here to follow traditions, you bet. there must be another woman involved. you weren't the only one, you thought. there had to be⸻

"y/n?"

you snap back to reality as your eyes look up to meet jing yuan's. the look on his face...the look of sincerity. a gentle look. god, he was so beautiful. and his eyes looked so...soft. he tilted his head, his smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you with a bit of concern.

disgusting.

"are you alright?"

your eyes soften a bit, gaze returning to fixate on the jasmine tea that he had poured for you already.

"you haven't touched your tea, yet. is something the matter? do you believe i have poisoned it? i can drink it for you, if you'd like."

you shake your head. "n-no, it's alright. i just...spaced out."

it didn't matter if it was poisoned. it would be another way to go out.

you pick up the cup of tea, bringing it up to your lips, tasting the warmth of the jasmine-induced tea and...

ah.

your eyes bright up. your cheeks paint themselves with a soft, crimson color. it was...sublime. the taste of the tea was perfect. it was amongst the best...no, it was the best jasmine tea you've ever tasted. it was...perfect. it was amazing.

you could see jing yuan smiling as well, seeing that he was very observant to your behavior and to what you liked, disliked...and what made you fear the most.

"it's...it's really good," you murmur, "i enjoy it. a-alot. th...thank you."

jing yuan's smile widened. "of course. anything to make my wife happy, after all."

happy...happy?

what a strange man.

to fixate on one's happiness⸻yours, especially. was this an obligation, or just something he wanted to do willy-nilly? you were unsure, but for whatever the future holds for the both of you...you hoped that it would make you disappear soon.

but, truth to be told, the future that was promised for you was no danger, neither was it truly a tunnel of neverending darkness.

unbeknownst to you, you were free. and you were going to be happy.

and jing yuan will make sure of it.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan

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papercorgiworld · 2 months

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A fair chance

Tom II and you are dating, but aside from Tom's struggle to come to terms with his feelings for you, your friends are now also getting involved with your relationship.

This is part two, read 'If you had known, would you've come' first.

No warnings, just fluff and maybe some angst.

I planned on finishing the amnesia request first, but for some reason my brain was like nah Tom fic first, so here we are. I expect to have the amnesia request (probably tilted: can you forgive what I forgot) online somewhere Sunday. I love you tumblr peoples and as always: happy readings!

Your class had just been dismissed and you walked with your books in hand out with Luna, when Hermoine jumped in front of you. “I think that after lunch I’m gonna head to the library to review the extra material professor Mcgonagall advised us to read. You guys wanna join me?” Luna nodded, before agreeing with a gentle voice. “Sure.” They both turn to you and you can’t help but feel hesitant to tell them you already had plans with a certain someone. “I can’t.” You sigh, before continuing in the direction of the great hall and Hermoine frowns, clearly noticing that you’re holding something back. “I’m meeting Tom-” Hermoine’s eyes widen. “Again?” Harry’s voice comes out of nowhere and you turn a little to give him a sheepish look. “We study together regularly. He’s an excellent study partner.” Luna ignores the obvious tension and smiles at you. “Are you two dating?” Panic fills your eyes at her question. Damn it, Luna, you can’t just ask people if they are dating the dark lord’s eldest son.

“No, not really. We’re just getting to know each other better.” Hermoine, Ron and Harry stare at you in disbelief. “And how’s that going?” Ron questions with a skeptical tone and obvious look. There’s an uncomfortable silence. “Okay, I guess, his favorite subjects are potions and magical theory.” You curse yourself at your weird answer in an already awkward situation. A forced smile makes its way to Harry’s face as he nods. “Neat.” Neat? Now even Luna feels herself get uneasy. You sigh loudly and start walking slowly as your friends follow. “Would it be so bad if I decide to go out with him on another date? I mean Daisy’s dating Mattheo and despite our worries over their relationship… so far so good, right.”

The group splits up for a moment to take their seats at the table, but Hermoine watches you for a moment debating whether she should speak up or not. “Look, (y/n), Mattheo’s a first class asshole and I don’t know what Daisy sees in him, but at least Mattheo is an asshole to everyone equally.” Ron who’s eagerly filling his plate nods in agreement with Hermoine’s argument before she continues. “Tom has a specific preference of people, being pureblood and slytherin. Everyone else is lesser than him. You know that, that’s why you’ve hated him from day one. So, how can one date with him make you forget who he really is and how he treats everyone?” You look down at your plate, really feeling bad about liking Tom. Hermoine was right, you knew who he was, so why did you kiss him? Why did you suddenly feel like he was so much more? You look at your friend and back to your plate, before excusing yourself. “I’m not really hungry, I think I’m gonna skip.” Harry judges Hermoine. “What?” Hermoine asks, looking away. “I get that you’re worried, but she can’t help it… I think she really likes him.” Ron frowns. “I think he’s got her under some kind of spell. Or maybe he has a secret agenda.”Hermoine and Harry look at Ron, getting worried that he might have a point.

***

Tom looks up at you from his quiet spot near the black lake, neatly seated on a conjured bench with a book levitating near him. You give him a weak smile as you can’t help but feel bad about meeting him after Hermoine’s argument. He watches you carefully as you sit down next to him, to him it feels like the air just got warmer and the sun finally touches his face, warming him. You stare at him as you search for words and he dips his head a little waiting for you to talk, but something changes your mind and you turn away from him watching the water for a moment before reaching for your books. “Not that I mind the quiet, but I thought the point of us hanging out was to get to know each other better.” Tom’s voice radiates calmness, but at the same time you feel his eyes focus on your every expression, determined to find out what you were thinking.

“You should meet my friends.” You finally say in one breath. There’s a silence as he processes your offer. “I know them. I’ve met them. No need for more interactions.” You turn to him with disapproving eyes, but before you can make an argument he speaks up sternly. “Trust me, no good will come of it.” You look back at the water and a frustrated half laugh escapes you, making Tom narrow his eyes at you. “Then how do you expect anything good to come from us meeting up?” Tom considers your words and turns to join you in watching the black lake. “I believe you can make up your own mind and I only want to ask you out on another date, not them.” You sigh, before turning and he meets your eyes. “It would be easier if they didn’t hate you.” Tom’s eyes fill with concern for you. Easy? That’s the one thing I can’t offer you, darling. For a moment Tom regrets getting you involved with him, but when you place a hand on his thigh and your eyes lock with his he couldn’t care less, because he knew you belonged with him.

“If I were to ask you to meet me tomorrow evening at the clock tower for another date at 8pm… would you say yes?” Tom's eyes stick to your hand on his leg as a smile tugs on your lips. You adored his gentleness and how he always acted composed, but still in a quiet way showed so much emotion when he was with you. “Are you asking me on another date?” You wiggle your eyebrows when he looks up to you. He chuckles. “You have me all figured out, don’t you?” He jokes and he watches your smile grow brighter. Oh Salazar, how can one person have me feel so much all at once. It’s almost too much for one man. “I would love to. I’ll be there. Tomorrow, 8 pm, the clock tower.”

***

Tom thought back to the moment you had repeated the time and place. You looked so happy, so willing to go out with him again… So why weren’t you here? Tom's eyes fell from the sky to his watch and it was hard to admit, but it had been a while since he had felt this much pain nagging at his chest. Gently Tom let a flower, your favorite, fall on a nearby bench. There was no need to extend his time of suffering by waiting for someone who was wise enough to choose ‘easy’, to choose a life away from him.

As he leaves the clock tower behind him to return to the slytherin common room, somewhere in the castle you run, out of breath, but with only one goal. Please, please. Quick steps down the empty stairs. I beg you just wait a little longer. Harshly pushing doors open as you hurry. I need you to still be there, Tom, please.

Panting you arrive to find no one. A frustrated sound mingles with a curse as you circle around. You check your watch and groan, but when you look up you spot the most beautiful flower, resting lonely on a cold bench. My favourite. You feel your heart ache as you pick it up. He probably planned another amazing date with a carefully picked scenery just for you and you hadn’t even managed to get there in time.

With your heart still racing from all the running you feel yourself move again.

***

“I’m assuming it didn’t go very well?” Mattheo grins, but his twisted smile quickly fades when he sees his always so cold brother fail to hide his pained eyes. “Really nothing gets past you, Mattheo.” Tom responds calmly, but the venom in his words was obvious to Mattheo’s ears. Tom turns away and Mattheo curses himself for being insensitive and, worse, feeling bad after it, like his brother deserved any sympathy. Mattheo grits his teeth, but decides to be the bigger person. “I didn’t mean to jab an open wound or anything.” Tom turns around with dead eyes, he didn’t need nor want his younger brother’s sympathy. “You wanna hug it out?” Tom fakes a pout to ridicule his brother’s emotional statement. “Don’t ever mistake me for someone who cares.” Tom’s voice is stern and cold, but just as he raises that last wall in an attempt to shut off all those overwhelming feelings the common room door swings open and you run through it almost bumping into Tom.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I was working on a project with Hermoine and it went wrong and she was freaking and then I was freaking and then we started over again but she wanted to be extra sure that it was right and she had me do all these extra steps and I knew I was gonna be late, but I ran and I ran and I scraped my arm against this door that wouldn’t open and I- I- I’m so so sorry. I should’ve been on time or message you or- or- I’m sorry.” Both Riddles stare at you as you rant, pointing at your scraped arm, but as soon as you’re done Mattheo’s eyes move to Tom who feels all those carefully put up walls crashing down. You stare at Tom searching for forgiveness and comforting words, but he just looks down at his watch and you feel stupid for thinking he would be understanding. “If we hurry we can still make it.” Mattheo smiles to himself as his brother reaches for your hand and heads for the door. Oh, brother you care, you care so much.

You watch your hand in his as you hurry through the castle back to the clock tower where Tom reveals a secret door that brings you to a beach. “Where are we?” You ask looking around not recognizing anything. “That doesn’t matter.” He says with his eyes focused on the sky, while softly squeezing your hand. With puzzled eyes you watch his features in the dark, before slowly following his gaze. For several seconds you stare at an empty dark sky. You frown as you focus, searching for what Tom is so excited about. “I don’t see it.” You whisper focused on the darkness above you. “Wait for it. The most beautiful things show themselves only rarely. You have to wait for them.” Tom’s voice is soft and reassuring. Motivated by his words you adore the sky and wait.

Your lips part as the sky lights up and you get to watch the most beautiful meteor shower. You take a step as if your body wants to get closer to the amazing scene around you. If it wasn’t for Tom’s fingers entangled with yours you would surely fly amongst them. “I’m in love.” You whisper and Tom looks at you, eyes still focused on the sky. Me too, darling, me too.

***

Hermoine leaves the library book tightly pressed against her chest and focused on whatever little mission she has planned next, when Tom appears next to her. “I must say, as a slytherin and a professional cunning manipulator, I admire your persistence and dedication to ruin my date with (y/n).” Hermoine’s heart races and her eyes fill with fear despite her attempt to keep a brave face. “However, as impressed as I am, I would really appreciate it if you would come clean to (y/n) about your actions and intentions.” Hermoine turns away from Tom as she tries to walk faster than him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Gritting his teeth, Tom grabs Hermoine’s arm. “Listen here, you little mud-muggle-” Hermoine frowns at how he changes his insult last minute. Tom rolls his eyes at her frown. “Give me credit for trying, okay.” He says dryly in his own defense, making Hermoine raise an unimpressed eyebrow.

“(y/n) and I deserve a fair chance.” Tom argues trying to convince Hermoine who just crosses her arms and Tom continues his argument. “You can try and fight this, but I’ll fight as well.” Hermoine is surprised to find determination instead of aggression in his voice. It wasn’t a threat to her, it was a promise to you and to her own surprise Hermoine couldn’t help but find justice in his argument. So Hermoine bites her tongue as she struggles to make peace with the man in front of her, but Tom just smirks. “Keep your pride, muggle. We don’t need to be friends. We just need to be honest.” With those words he leaves and the Gryffindor watches him confused about the silent agreement that they had just made.

She hurries to the Gryffindor common room and heads straight to the boys' dorm. “Cancel the plan.” The Weasley twins frown at Hermoine’s words. “To late. We already poisoned his drink.” Hermoine’s eyes widen and Harry takes a step towards her. “Why would we cancel the plan?” Hermoine sighs, frustrated by the situation. “Because I don’t think Tom is dating (y/n) for some secret evil plan. Nor has he cursed her in any way. I think they’re genuinely in love.” Everyone in the room is baffled. “So what? He won’t reveal his evil plan to her?” Fred questions and Hermoine shakes her head. “But then what will the potion make him say?” George adds and Hermoine takes a deep breath. “Well, it will do as a truth potion is supposed to do, it will make him tell the truth.”

***

Tom felt some nagging feeling in the back of his head but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Unaware of the truth potion in his system, slowly triggering his brain into honesty, the slytherin makes his way to your classroom to wait for you. Never thought I would spend my free time waiting for a girl. Love is a ridiculous thing. Tom leans against the wall opposite of your classroom door, he closes his eyes as he hears the professor talk and chairs shuffle. He frowns and opens his eyes when he feels this sudden urge to tell someone the honest truth. However, his thoughts of worry are interrupted when the door opposite of him swings open and several noisy students eager to leave walk fill the hallway.

Mattheo looks up when he sees his brother and his eyebrows knit together. Tom shakes his head at his younger brother. “Not here for you.” Mattheo smiles and turns around to see you leave the classroom. “Oh right.” Tom rolls his eyes as he sees a smirk tug on his younger brother’s lips. “Whatever you are thinking, do not say it out loud.” Tom warns, before walking towards you, feeling himself get all happy and giddy as you meet his eyes and give him a warm smile. It felt almost wrong for him to have this wonderful moment of being welcomed so warmly. Every nerve in his body is screaming to kiss you, but Tom refrains from doing this believing that making your relationship a spectacle for everyone to see is beneath him. Though part of him would very much like everyone to know how much you truly belong with and to him.

Shoulder to shoulder you walk in the direction of an empty hallway. “Did Granger talk to you by any chance?” Tom’s question has you look up at him, frowning as you think back, before shaking. “No, but she did send me a note to meet up later.” Tom hums and now you’re definitely curious. “Do you know something?” Tom just smiles, but then shakes his head. “I’ll leave her to tell you the truth.” You make a weird face at his vagueness, but decide to let it go in favor of the little game you and Tom had been playing the last few days. “I have another get-to-know-one-another question.” You announce with a joyful voice and Tom looks at you with amusement, waiting for your question. “What do you like to do for fun?” You playfully narrow your eyes at Tom and he thinks for a moment, while gently interlacing his fingers with yours now that you’re in a less crowded hallway.

“Reading.” He finally answers and your shoulders sink at his lame answer. “Reading dark and brooding books doesn’t count as fun.” You argue and a sly smirk tugs on his lips. “Well, darling, we can’t all read cheap fluffy fanfictions on Tumblr.” Your eyes widen. “How do you-? And they’re not cheap! They are very fluffy, I’ll admit that, but how-?” He smiles at you and interrupts you before you ask questions he does not want to answer. “That’s really not the point, though, the point is everyone has their preferred genre.” You huf and stop him, pulling him towards you. “But what do you really really love? What’s something that brings joy in your life? What’s something you wish you could do every second of the day?”

Tom’s plan was to chuckle and say: I love reading dark and brooding books.

However, the truth potion had now fully flooded his brain and the true answer to these questions slipped out before he could stop himself. “More than anything, I love you, (y/n). You bring me joy, you make me happy. You bring light into every gray day. I wish I could spend every second with you, because everything is so much better when you’re with me. When you’re with me, I see color where all is gray without you.”

Tom felt his heart race as these honest but unintended words came out of his own mouth. The few people walking in the hallway had stopped to stare, either baffled or horrified by what they had just heard. Tom felt something he seldom experienced, embarrassment and vulnerability. Dating you was one thing, but admitting he loved you. He wasn’t ready to face his own feelings yet… leave alone your opinion on them. He scanned the hallway, scowling at those who were still staring, before bravely looking down at you. As soon as your eyes lock with his, your hands reach for his cheeks, cupping them and pulling him closer to meet you halfway. Lips softly landing on his, there is an intensity to the kiss as you try to express all the love you feel for him in one single action. “Why?” Tom asks when the kiss breaks and you smile at his confused tone. “Because you empower me to keep on seeing and bringing color. Because as different as we are, you make me feel loved in every small detail and difference.”

The softest chuckle escapes Tom. “I didn’t plan on telling you all this, but I’m glad I did.” You smile and kiss him again, while he pulls you into a tight embrace.

***

Sitting on a bench in the courtyard Harry, Hermoine, Ron, Fred, George and Ginny all sheepishly look down as you pace in front of them. “How could you do all these things? You should be ashamed of yourselves?” Tom can’t hide his amusement as you lecture them, with crossed arms he watches you rant for a few seconds. “He should kill you idiots for this?” Tom’s smile grows a little wider at your words and decides it’s time to calm you down. You feel his arm snake around your waist. “I should… but I won’t.” He places a soft kiss on your temple, more than pleased that your friends have now given him a chance to act all merciful and force them to accept your relationship.

Feedback is always welcome.

Word count: 3223

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom ii riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #papercorgiworldwritings

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cult-of-the-placeholder · 6 months

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I like to imagine that Shamura always knew.

They have the gift of prophecy, after all: on the day of Narinder's birth, when Shamura first takes the infant god into their arms, they know. Their clairvoyance shows a distant future, an angry, hateful Narinder, wielding a great, cursed scythe with terrifying mastery, bellowing at Shamura to take up arms and fight him.

The vision splits, two possibilities at once: they can either do as demanded and fight their little brother--who's no more than a soft, mewling infant in the present, delicately holding onto their finger and cooing at them in wonder--and their overwhelming power of the eldest all at once will quell him. They can strike him down there with a single, decisive blow, and Narinder will collapse to the ground, crown shattering and lifeless body splayed out grotesquely. Shamura's siblings will shun them for killing Narinder, and the grief will slowly drive them insane.

Or... they can refuse to fight. If they refuse to raise their hand to their brother, Narinder will best them easily. Becoming increasingly more angry as he slashes and strikes them, shrieking at their older sibling to, "Fight me, damn you! Fight me!"

Shamura sees their own skull cleaved, sees the other bishops rush to defend them. They see Heket's throat torn out, Leshy's eyes gouged, Kallamar's ears ripped from his head. He sees them all, bloody and beaten, retreating. He sees them bandaging one another's wounds, sees them forging unholy shackles and chains that could hold their brother. His death is something they want to avoid, even after he injures them so.

Shamura knows better than anyone that a prophecy cannot be outrun or outsmarted, but they still try. What else can they do? The vision leaves them suddenly and the newborn god in their arms is whining with discomfort--tears have begun to drip off their cheeks and have speckled the poor child's face. They gently wipe them away, heart pounding with nerves, and nestle the baby close against their chest.

They try so hard. They run themselves ragged over the next several hundred thousand years, taking every preventative measure they can. They search endlessly for more visions, for some kind of hint, something they can do to change it. They vow to love Narinder completely, infinitely, and their other brothers and little sister as well. Perhaps if they loves him enough, treasures and cherishes them and gives them each the entirety of their heart, this horrible future can be evaded. Delayed. Denied.

Surely something must cause Narinder to raise his blades against them. They nip every problem in the bud, they raise the four other gods with grace and love, hands warm and kind when they need to be, just as they are firm and stern when it is necessary. The other 4 bishops grow in great power, and they love each child endlessly. Especially Narinder. The little god of death is the only one that shares their passion for the written word, and so often retreats into Shamura's vast libraries to study poetry and prose alike. Sometimes they read together, first with Narinder seated directly in their lap, then sitting together shoulder-to-shoulder when he's grown too big for that. Shamura is sure to express their affections each and every time, so that Narinder can never forget how loved he is.

Millenium pass by the hundreds, and the horrible prophecy hasn't yet come to pass, and Shamura tries valiantly to forget it. The world grows and matures and worships them, and their siblings have become fine rulers indeed. The lands prosper, endless devotion for them to dine on and grow ever stronger.

Then... Narinder asks Shamura about the prospect of change. Changing death's rules, carving out a new and uncertain future, letting the mortals walk again after having left the waking realm, and not in the means of rebirth, no: rather, instead, he spoke of granting their souls a second chance in a revived body.

It's blasphemous. It's heinous. It's unnatural.

Shamura cannot allow him to violate the laws of nature. They forbid he do such things, and that night they're plagued with the nightmarish vision again, but this time only one ending plays out: their skull is split because they refuse to fight him. It's happening so fast all around them, and they go to Narinder in the middle of the night. Hugs him desperately, grasping his shoulders with all four hands, begging him to remember that he is loved and that something like this shouldn't come between them. Begs him to reconsider, but refrains from telling him about the prophecy. Telling someone of a percieved inevitability often acted to push them directly towards it. Fate was ironic like that.

They beg Narinder not to, beg him to just stay as he is, and their little brother is so confused. And when Shamura refuses to tell him what is going on, he becomes suspicious. Bids they go away, and disappears into a dark portal to a place where Shamura can't track him.

It devolves from there. Shamura knows what's coming and is powerless to stop it--they stop sleeping, they stop eating, they withdraw entirely and throw themselves desperately into their forbidden library, searching for something, anything they can do to change their fate. A loss like this will be felt for thousands of years to come, and their heart can't bear it. Shamura spends days, weeks, months, years in a restless trance, mind stretched thin as their desperation drives them to search for a solution that does not exist. A long time for mortals to be sure, but for a god it could be the blink of an eye. While they have been deep in the recesses of ethereal knowledge, Narinder has grown considerably more bored, more angry, more isolated.

When Narinder comes to them, scythe in hand, Shamura is exhausted. It has been so long since they drank from their followers' devotion. Narinder comes to challenge them, a fight for death, he says--death will evolve, and if Shamura wants to stop it they will have to kill him. Or at the very least beat him into submission.

And Shamura can't. Their worst nightmare is playing out in real time right before their eyes, and they do nothing when Narinder's pitch black blade comes down on them. They're crying, silently, tears of grief flowing down their face because they know what's coming. If they raise their arms and fight their brother, Narinder will die.

They can't. They won't. Not to their baby brother.

#god im so normal about the bishops #Shamura #Narinder #the bishops of the old faith #cult of the lamb #cotl

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vivalarevolution · 2 years

Text

𝓕𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵𝔂 𝓣𝓲𝓮𝓼

Aemond Targaryen x Bastard-Targaryen Oc

Summary: Aemond had never felt the emotion that she meade him feel, and he had never felt such bitterness when she left him. But when he was able to see her again years later, he couldn't let her run away again. Never again.

A/N: I hope you all gonna like it. It is quite a long fic. Also it contains smut, so please be aware of that part and don't read it if you're minor.

English is not my native language, so I am sorry for any mistakes.

Part 2

A child's life should never be easy. But how much Daenaera wanted it to be otherwise.

Being not only an half-orphan but a bastard was exhausting enough. The streets of King's Landing were not safe for girls like her, they were not safe for any girl.

Daenaera hasn't lived her whole life that way, no.

She used to have a house, small but it was still hers. She lived with her mother and three siblings and her stepfather, who, learning about her true origin, nearly killed her, throwing her onto the doorstep so that at the age of eight she could cope as an adult.

Disguised as a boy, she tried to survive, always somehow managed, until she fell under the feet of King Viserys's daughter.

Rhaenyra was going on one of her secret journeys then, just like years ago with her uncle. But she wasn't expecting a child to run into her while running away from a bunch of boys.

Due to the force of impact, the brown cap fell from the child's head, revealing waves of snow-white locks that fell freely on her shoulders.

The princess did not believe what she saw, but looking at the icy blue irises of the girl who was looking at her intensely with hidden flames so deep inside her, she was convinced of their distant relationship.

Daenaera had never been so terrified in her life. She wasn't sure why she'd agreed to go with the woman to the castle. Maybe it was because of the softness of her voice, maybe becuse it was better everywhere than on the street.

Sitting in a fair-haired bedroom, she stared at the landscape outside the window before her eyes moved to the opening door, in which the king himself stood with her eldest daughter.

At first Viserys thought he had seen Aemma. He still remembered their first encounters as children, and her reflection sat on Rhaenyra's bed, only dirtier and scared.

His pale face twisted into a gentle smile, and his eyes were filled with the first little tears. The girl was watching him as intensely, only to look at the nearby princess who came up to her, standing next to her and placing one of her hands on her shoulder.

- Aemma - the ailing king whispered.

-This is the girl I told you about -the purple-eyed woman said, avoiding the subject of her dead mother- I'm sure she has our blood in her. She is one of us.

Daenaera wanted to question many things, tell them the truth, but she kept silent, just watching.

-What do you want me to do with that information Rhaenyra? We are not sure, and bringing an unknown child from the street will not do any good - said her father, although his eyes told a completely different story.

-Even her name. Why would she have a Valyrian name? - she asked, trying to convince her father.

-Why do you want to take her, daughter? - asked the king.

-I do not want to leave her alone on the street - she confessed after a long moment - I will take care of her like my own daughter. We owe her that.

White-haired girl wanted to say that it's not true. They didn't owe her anything, they didn't know her, but the woman's soothing touch made her body finally feel relaxed, calm. So in the next moment she was pressed against Rhaenyra, her forehead resting on her stomach.

-I don't want to go back there - she confessed quietly, closing her eyes in fear of rejection.

-You won't - the woman assured in a soft voice, stroking her hair and glancing at Viserys, who only sighed, his heart being his greatest asset as well as his greatest curse.

Two years have passed since the girl was taken into the care of Princess Rhaenyra Targareyn. She grew up with her two sons Lucerys and Jacaerys, who surprisingly quickly accepted her as their sister, not leaving her even for a step.

Her new family loved and defended her, proving their true intentions at every turn. Blue-eyed girl often questioned their actions, but her mother always shooed that thoughts away, which made Daenaera unknowingly come closer and closer to the point that she did not leave her foster mother side, feeling the safest in her embrace.

Violet-eyed woman felt the same emotions, becoming very close to the child, protecting her from the eyes of Queen Alicent and her three children. She couldn't do that with her sons, they were princes, and her father wanted the boys raised together, but Daenaera's nature made her quiet, almost distrustful, and Rhaenyra used it to her advantage.

The fair-haired child did not mind this, she preferred the older company and blamed her stepfather for it, because she couldn't longer perceived the joy in her childhood activities, often wandering around the garden or reading thick , old books.

This is why she was named the White Flower in honor of her snow-white hair and delicate like flower-petals personality.

Aemond sometimes had wonder if her title fully applieded to her. As a second son, he was often overlooked, lonely. So he observed her. And the sight of the princess, watched over by Harwin Strong himself, aroused his interest, growing more and more, so much so that the boy desperately waited for the moment when Daenaera was alone to be able to speak with her ,even if it was meant to be a single word.

Her blue and ice-cold eyes did not match the warm tone of her voice and red lips, which he found even more beautiful up close. The king's son found a common language with her, amazed at how good a listener the girl next to him was, ready to hear him without hesitation. But he quickly found that he preferred to listen to her rather than speak. Aemond's ear may have faded from the amount of words that came into him, but his mind was never fed up.

Their friendship was a secret, something forbidden. Their mothers could not find a common language with each other while putting their children on opposite sides of the wall they had built over the years.

And that was one reason their relationship collapsed. Aemond could've claimed the greatest dragon, he could've been injured and lose an eye, but the moment Alicent tried to attack Daenaery's siblings, injuring their mother during the process, everything in between them was lost. The Blacks and the Greens formed their sides, and the little girl joined her mother without hesitation, silently announcing that she would live and fight by her side, ignoring the young Targaryen's wounded heart, which had not fully healed even after the middle of a decade.

At that time, Daemon Tragaryen and his two daughters Baela and Rhaena joined her family. The man, to the surprise of many, treated Daenaera the same as her mother. He was just as loving and caring but much more dangerous.

The blue-eyed girl has matured over the years, turning into a beautiful woman with the same delicate features and blue irises. In addition, the egg she had received from the king himself had recently hatched upon their arrival at Dragonstone, making it a legitimate and worthy Targaryen.

Meraxes and she were inseparable, from the day the reptile was born, she spent time on the girl's shoulder, never leaving her, even for a moment, as Daenaera used to do with Rhaenyra.

Their siblings liked to mock her and called her the mother of dragons because of her approach to the animal, but the white-haired girl did not mind in any way. Deep dwon she was proud of the title and the fact that, even as a bastard, the dragon's blood still ran strongly in her veins.

The wind in her hair, the warm sun, the sound of the sea, and the flapping of wings were a sweet tune that young Targaryen genuinely loved.

She called it her personal definition of freedom.

Soaring above the bright clouds, she dove down as quickly as she appeared above them. The sea landscape stretched out beneath her body.

Blue eyes followed everything around her until Dragonstone appeared in the distance, towards which the young woman was heading. Passing through small islets, she flew past the stone structure before ordering Meraxes to land. The reptile's wings swirled in the air, scattering the blades of grass to the sides, her dragon may have been small, but it had a lot of strength in it.

As she descended from the dragon, she was greeted with the sight of Jacaerys standing near them.

-What are you doing here? - asked the girl, after a moment grabbing one of the gloves in her teeth to take it off her hand.

-We're going to King's Landing soon - he confessed, and she frowned in consternation.

Daenaera turned her head towards her companion.

-Jikagon riña (Go girl) - she said, patting her neck before she spread her wings above the ground.

The fair-haired girl did not miss a small murmur of irritation, which made her want to laugh. Valyrian has never been an easy language, especially for those who have not met it since birth, but the girl's hard work with her father made her use the old language extremely fluent, much to the discomfort of her younger brother.

-Mother told us to get ready - he continued, waiting for her to reach him.

-Sounds serious - his sister said, before a slight, malicious smile appeared on her face -But it does not stop you from irritating ,my dear brother.

-What do you mean?- He asked her, staring at her sparkling irises.

-Kessi sagon jēda skori kesā ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie lēkia (They will be time when you will speak high Valyrian brother) - notified Daenaera, staring straight ahead.

-Kosten ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie, mandia (I can speak High Valyrian, sister) - the brunet replied confidently.

-Kostan- the white-haired girl corrected him, and he looked at her stealthily, causing her to laugh.

-You know, you are supposed to be my wife, and the wife should support her husband, not stand against him - the boy noticed, watching as the facial expressions of her changed.

-It's just wishful thinking Jace. Nothing more -Rhaenyra's daughter announced before she quickened her pace, running away from further conversation.

The fair-haired girl's journey to King's Landing passed in silence. Standing away from her family members, she stared at the waves hitting the ship. Her peace of mind was disturbed when her parents decided to have a chat with her, as if sensing that something was bothering her young mind, but she reassured her that everything was fine, avoiding telling the truth.

When they finally arrived, no one knew about their presence in the castle. The courtyard was only filled with guards until one of the lords appeared at the door, surprised by their arrival.

Daemon and Rhaenyra visited King Viserys while the rest of the siblings were led into their chambers.

Daenaera did not stay long in it. Her curiosity forced her to leave the room. As she strolled through the corridors, she looked at the place she once called home. She tried to remember the way to the gardens, which had once been her favorite place.

As she walked forward, she watched her surroundings, noticing how many things had changed.

At one point, in the corner of her eye, she noticed something bright, contrasting with the dark corridors of Red Keep. Turning her eyes in that direction, she saw the man. He had long hair, he was tall, slim, but something mysterious and dark was beaming from him.

The girl frowned. She wondered who the stranger was, but when her eyes saw a leather band around the man's eye, she paused, speechless.

-Aemond?- she whispered, but he heard her anyway, her silky voice too hard to forget.

Boy in front of her turned fully towards her and she had to hold back a gasp that wanted to escape from her throat. Targaryen looked nothing like himself from years ago, he didn't even looked like a boy, but a man. His posture, clothes, face. He was radiating maturity.

Her uncle's eyes rested on her.

Her body was wrapped in a black dress that emphasized the figure of the white-haired girl, pushing her bust forward, on which rested a necklace with aquamarine in the middle, accentuating the color of her eyes. The snow-white hair was pulled back in a bun from which curly strands spilled out. She looked like a living masterpiece, something that should be forbidden, inaccessible to the ordinary eye.

Aemond narrowed their distance. The difference in height was significant as she tilted her head up and he tilted her head down so they could meet each other's eyes.

Neither of them spoke for a long time, only standing, facing each other. Daenaera's heart was beating so hard she could hear it in her ears, wondering if the boy could hear it as well.

-Niece -he replied after a long moment, shivers passed down her spine.

-It’s good to see you - Daemon's daughter confessed softly, suddenly losing all the remnants of her confidence.

-You too - he confessed, unexpectedly tucking a strand of her white hair behind her ear to find an excuse to move even closer so that his lips almost touched her ear - You look beautiful -he whispered, kissing her earlobe before he left without a word, disappearing out of Daenaera's view.

Suddenly, her original destination was long forgotten.

Blue-eyed girl stood by her mother's side, listening to political matters. She would have been bored if it weren't for the man who spoke about Driftmark's legitimate affiliation with her younger brother. Blood was boiling inside her as she heard sieges and slander about her family. Even the sudden arrival of the king, who was barely on his feet, did not help.

Everything in her was torn in different directions, the mind and heart could not reconcile with each other, so she stood stiffly, staring stubbornly at the swords adorning the iron throne.

-Her children are bastards! - suddenly there was a loud scream from Vaemond Velaryon -One that doesn't even belong to her, looks more like a Targaryen than her own sons! - he drawled through his teeth, and the girl closed her eyes, feeling anxiety penetrate under her skin - And she ... is a whore.

As the words left the man's mouth, everyone in the room held their breath, the atmosphere heavy, almost unbearable.

-For these words ... I'll take your tongue - Viserys announced menacingly, taking out his dagger.

But before he had time to execute his threat, Daemon's blade sliced the Lord's face in half. Daenaera stared at the severed piece of head until her mother grabbed her, shielding her body from seeing lying corpse.

-He can keep his tongue - her father said, but she no longer listened.

Holding on to Rhaenyra's arm, she waited for the end that came faster than she expected. Leaving the room under the care of her mother and siblings, she became absent, even more than usual.

The dead lord's words rumbled in her ears, reminding her of the painful truth. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she studied or how expensive dresses she wore, she was still someone else's bastard, raised by a family that wasn't really hers.

-I need to refresh- she whispered after a while to the fair-haired woman.

-Daenaera- began the princess, when she noticed a shadow of tears in her eyes - Do not listen to people who wish you to fall, do you understand? Nothing that was said towards us mattered.

-I know - she said with a slight smile. - I just want to freshen up -she repeated. -Calm down -she added before disappearing from Rhaenyra's sight.

The white-haired girl was pushing forward, without any specific target. She had missed her room a long time ago, eventually ending up in the royal gardens she had once so sincerely adored. Standing under Weirwood, she stared at the scarlet leaves aimlessly until she felt a presence behind her back.

One of the hands crept up on her hip, while the other gently grabbed her chin, twisting it to the side so that the girl's eyes could see behind her. Aemond was staring at her face, his eye closely watching the emotions bubbling inside her.

After a while the princess daughter felt the boy's thumb wiping away the tears running down her cheek, the ones she did not even notice, to bring their faces closer in the next moment, so that the noses of both touched each other.

-I do not like when you cry- he said with a surprisingly warm tone of voice -I would have killed him if my uncle had not been faster -he said suddenly, and she widened her eyes in surprise.

-You really changed- the girl whispered.

-As you did - he said, and she turned her head back, staring at the tree in front of them - I would like to show you something- he confessed after a long moment- Or actually someone.

Daenaera merely nodded her consent, allowing Aemond to lead her to the secret passage, right outside the city's outskirts. They both walked for a long time, until they were only surrounded by a meadow and a beach where the great reptile, Vhagar, was resting.

The girl widened her eyes, stopping in place. The dragon in front of her aroused interest in her as well as the fear that her own animal sensed. The sound of Meraxes echoed in her ears and a white dragon appeared in the sky.

-I believe he is yours - murmured the king's son.

-Yes- she replied, looking at her companion, who landed near them- She is very protective of me - girl added after she saw how creature was landing.

-When we were children, I promised you that I would fly with you on the back of a dragon whenever you wanted - he said nostalgically -But I see you don't need to stick to that promise any longer.

-I never said I didn't want to ride with you just because my dragon egg finally hatched - she remarked quickly -You are a Vhagar rider, it is an honor to fly with someone like you.

Targaryen led her towards the sleeping beast, which had time to open it's great eyes when they faced her. Reptile greeted her with a low grunt. Her hand involuntarily ran through the hot scales of a creature that was nothing like the monster that wreaked havoc so many years ago.

Aemond helped the blue-eyed climb up on the back, sitting behind her himself. Soon after, the dragon rose heavily and soared upward. Meraxes followed them, faithfully guarding her rider.

Daenaera, despite the fact that she flew so many times, felt as if it was her first time. As the old dragon's legs touched the ground, she could've feel her heart beating against her ribs, and pounded in her ears becuse of the amount of emotion.

-Where are we?- asked Rhaenera's daughter.

-On some island, I believe -the boy said, helping her down.

-It seems deserted - said the white-haired girl, walking with Aemond, while their dragons were resting next to each other.

-It's good- he replied - Nobody will disturb us.

-With what exactly Aemond? - she asked, looking at him out of the corner of her eye - I can't believe we've gone, the gods know where to talk.

-You should believe it - he said, returning to his arrogant and cool disposition -We haven't seen each other for a long time.

-Exactly. We are different people - continued the blue-eyed stubbornly - The last thing I expect from you is a conversation.

-You're right - he said after a moment, stoping -I'm a different man, I've changed. I used to be afraid to hold your hand, but now I realized that if you want something in this world, you just have to reach for it - he announced before he grabbed her waist, pulling her into a sensual kiss, the heat of which almost burned her lips.

Her own hands rested in his long hair, trying to keep up with the purple-eyed, who was attacking her mouth in the sweetest way, causing her to just want more. Standing on her tiptoes, she tried to cling to the body of the young man, whose own hands began to shamelessly wander across the fair-haired figure, stopping at the bindings of her dress.

After a while, heavy material began to slide down her shoulders, no longer protecting her naked body underneath. Aemond pulled it down without hesitation, too greedy to stop. His niece shivered at the cold air that enveloped her body, then sat down on her clothes.

Without a word, she broke the kiss, helping the boy in front of her remove the clothes that were in their way. Her hands were working quickly, impatiently wanting to see the white-haired man fully, but he stopped her by grabbing her cheek. She looked into his eye, waiting for the words that didn't came. Her uncle just smirked before attacking her naked neck.

A flush covered her cheeks as Aemond covered her skin with wet kisses. Daenaera had to bite her lip to keep the moans from escaping from her mouth. She felt a little nervous, she was not used to the kind of feeling that was flooding her veins now. The white-haired girl could not stop a sigh from escaping her mouth as the boy's cold fingers traveled over her skin. -You're so soft - he whispered lovingly.

-Aemond - blue-eyed moaned softly

The young woman had to close her eyes. His touch and the feeling of his irises against her skin made her dizzy, she hadn't expected it to be so intense for the first time.

-So beautiful...and only mine to be ruined- he said in a deep voice that sent shivers down her spine.

She lay down on the prince's silent command, closing her eyes in anticipation, and as soon as he began sucking and fingering her womanhood, all her worries left her mind.

-More. Please -she whispered between moans as he, taking his time, tortured her in a sweet manner.

Daenaera could've no longer control her mouth, her instincts taking over her body, making her want Targaryen with all her might.

She felt a strange feeling that she couldn't really put into words. Unknowingly she tightened around his fingers, and as her moans grew louder urging him even more, he began to add another finger, causing her to be almost on the verge of orgasm.

Her stomach was clenched, a strange feeling began to build up in her lower parts, blood began to rush to her ears. The white-haired girl's head fell back to the ground, her muscles tightened around his fingers.

-Cum for me - he muttered hoarsely.

When she did exactly that, her body stiffened, only to be picked up by the purple-eyed man who sat her on his lap moments later. The girl rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and breathing deeply before Aemond started to move her again, this time directing her to his manhood. Daenaera felt her middle being ripped apart and she sobbed as she pressed against the young man's neck beneath her. The silver-haired boy stroked her back, trying to chase away the pain, and the same time trying to keep himself from pressing his hips into her's. After a long moment, the blue-eyed beauty began to slowly move her loins, letting Targaryen know that he could also move. He grabbed her thighs, lifting her body up and down, and she fully let him do it, feeling the same familiar feeling warms her lower abdomen. They became one, and they both took full advantage of this feeling, too lost in each other to worry about the consequences. -Aemond - she gasped, tugging hard on his hair, making the prince growled loudly. -Let go - he said straight into her ear -Be a good little flower, and make a mess for me- he added, biting her neck.

Daenaera came almost screaming in ecstasy, causing Aemond to end up with her, unable to stop himself as her velvet walls pressed against him so deliciously and tightly.

Their eyes met in silent conversation until the young woman's soft lips rested on the prince's rough ones. -I missed you so much - she whispered before she pressed their foreheads together, drawing as much of the moment as she could.

The youngest son of the king breathed at her words, feeling the gap in his dark heart being filled with feelings for his beloved woman, which had been hidden for years, now ready to burst into flames.

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