#fire in the oak family is that Anger | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asumofwords · 1 year

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

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)

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: This is my first time ever writing fanfic. I have been reading fanfic on this godforsaken app since I was 12, and have been encouraged blindly by my best friend to post this. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2: Steam

The walk back to your chambers was a quick journey. The hair on your arms stood up, as the ever present feeling of being watched surrounded you. The soft sound of your footfall echoed in the mostly empty wing of the Red Keep where your chambers resided.

The art on the walls of the Keep had been changed to Queen Alicent’s tastes. Bland colours and entirely not Targaryen, replaced the once brightly decorated halls and walls of your old home. You followed the torches until you reached the heavy oak of your doors, having them opened by a Knight of the Kings Guard; his white cloak standing stark against the dark corners of the corridor.

As he pushed open your door you asked him to summon your maids.

“Could you please fetch Aella and Saria for me? Have them prepare some water for a bath.”

He bowed his head, “Yes, my Lady”, pulling your doors shut.

Your chambers were the same as the ones you had as a child, most of the furnishing and decor had not changed, though some things had. The room, however you could tell, had been unused since your departure many years before.

The windows looked out towards the sea, the moon softly reflecting on the water, flickering with the waves. A shadow could be seen above, a great beast flapping its wings to push itself and its rider higher into the sky. Its looming shadow slipped between the clouds rolling in, and you prayed a storm would blow in from the sea and knock Aemond off of Vhagar and into the ocean below him.

Vhagar was the largest dragon in the world, fitting for your uncle as he had the largest ego in the world. You often joked to your brothers that he was most likely compensating for his manhood. Unlike his brother, you had not heard of his conquests with any women, or men. He was entirely elusive, a man with little or nothing to say, that many knew naught about except for his anger.

Lost in your thoughts, Aella and Saria knocked on your chambers and you bid them to enter. Aella was young, no older than two-and-twenty. She had bright curly red hair that was always tightly pulled away from her face in braids that formed a low bun at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were a deep brown and she had a dusting of freckles upon her nose and cheeks.

Saria was the opposite. A few years older than you, her hair was as black as night, and silky smooth, worn in a similar style to Aella, but with flowing bangs that framed her face. Her eyes were a bright blue and her skin was a deep olive.

Aella and Saria came with you from Dragonstone and had served you for many years. Both were kind and trustworthy, and you would sometimes dare to call them your friends.

The girls carried two large metal buckets each; steam rising high out of them. The two maids walked across the stone floors and placed them against the far wall. More maids walked in, carrying more steaming buckets of water and a large metal tub, placing it next to the burning fireplace, and began to fill it.

“Will you be joining the King for dinner, My Lady?” Aella asked, lifting one of the buckets letting the water carefully fall in as to not splash upon her or the ground.

“I will,” You replied, “I have not seen my Grandsire the King for many years. I’ve missed him,” You paused and thought, “and Prince Aemond extended a very warm invitation for me to join.” You looked up to see Aella and Saria give you a knowing look.

They had both witnessed the one-eyed Prince torment you since your recent arrival, and have listened to your younger selves stories of his sudden random bullying before the loss of his eye. Such a sudden shift in him which had surprised you both.

Some days it was as though he had forgotten that he hated you then, talking to you excitedly about something he had learnt in the library, before realising his mistake and scowling, stalking off away from you.

You had never truly understood the shift, but it was only ever in the open, before the eyes of court that he did it. If you were tucked away in private, he would speak to you kindly as he always had. You had shrugged it off as a child, but as you had gotten older, you realised that perhaps Alicent had been the reason for it.

“I wish to look my best this evening. It has been a long time since I have been in the presence of my family, and I want to make sure they know of how I have grown.”

Saria came behind you and began to unlace your dress, pulling it softly over your head.

Your slip was loosened by a tie at the front and it dropped down, pooling at your feet. The large copper tub had steam rising over the top, the light from the fire reflecting off of its side created a beautiful light that danced upon the wall.

Lifting your foot you stepped over and into the water, letting the stress and anxiety of the day melt away as you sank deeper into the tub. Leaning up against the high lip of the back, Aella lifted your braids from your neck and over the top, slowly untangling your hair and brushing out the strands.

Saria walked across the room and over to a large wooden wardrobe, which sat beside the bed. Dancing dragons were carved into the doors, with the faint remnants of paint covering them, with soft gold leaf detailing lining the trim of the wardrobe.

It was one of the last things left in this room that was yours, making you think that perhaps Queen Alicent did have a heart after all. Opening the two doors, Saria reached in and began pulling out gowns to present to you.

“What about this dress Princess?” She held a deep red gown with a high neck. The shoulders pointed upwards and held the sleeves of the gown together with gold chains. The long sleeves were inwardly lined with a golden silk and there were black embroidered Godswood branches reaching along the hem and bust of the gown.

“Beautiful but no, I am wanting black for this evening.”

Aella continued to braid your hair back, whilst you rested in the tub.

Saria went back to the wardrobe and brought forth another dress. This time it was a black, short sleeved one. Gold embroidered flames licked at the bottom of the gown, which split at the front up towards the fitted corset of the waist. A golden skirt peeked through the split, which shimmered like the fireplace.

The neckline was modest and although it was one of your favourites to wear back home in Dragonstone, you felt that the dress was more of a summer gown, and the coolness of the night that nipped at you made you think this dress would be too thin.

“I think I want something more mature. They haven't seen me since I was young, I am older now and wish to show it.”

You closed your eyes sinking further into the water to think for a moment, Aella pouring oils into the bath to soak your skin.

“Are any of the new dresses from Dorne?” You inquired, opening one eye to look at Saria.

The dark haired girl paused in thought, then hurriedly walked back to the wardrobe.

The next time she stood before you, she held a new gown you had not worn nor seen before.

“This is new from Marba, the tailor in Dorne.”

It was a dark black, sweeping gown. Its neckline plunged sharply into a deep V, dark black leather wrapped tightly around the waist and was embroidered with black vines that looked like dragons tails. The sleeves were long and open, that hung off by the shoulders that were lined with drooping gold chains. The inner lining was a deep blood red.

It was unlike any gown you had seen before.

Slowly you stood, Aella holding out her hand for you to take to help you out of the tub. Steam slowly rising off of your body as she pressed a warm towel to dry you, softly pushing your undergarment over your head to wear. You walked towards Saria, who held out the dress for you to inspect.

Up close, the black embroidery shimmered like threads made of Onyx, and the leather was finely stitched together to pull the waist into a tighter shape. The chains on the sleeves were thin and wound together like long chainmail braids, so delicate it draped softly and weightlessly as to not misshape the gown.

The plunging neckline was like most dresses witnessed in Dorne, but not nearly as often in King's Landing.

“It is beautiful, thank you Saria.” You smiled, “Help dress me, I’m sure they are expecting me soon.”

Saria held the gown and helped you into it, lifting it over your head and pulling it down. The inner lining was soft on your skin and the leathered waist was a new but not unwelcome weight against you. Slipping your arms through the sleeves you heard the soft jingling of the chain detailing, they looked similar to a warriors chainmail, and you thought for a second that you looked as if you were dressed to go to war.

Though this thought was not entirely unsubstantiated. Queen Alicent, your two uncles and aunt all still to this day wore green, were referred to as the Greens and were still waging a silent war against your mother and you all.

You thought of how your uncle Aemond would react to seeing you in a dress like this, but that thought was short lived as Saria began to tighten your gown, pulling in your waist which then lifted your breasts. You giggled at the prospect of irritating the prudish Queen Alicent, as Aella began to fuss with the finishings of your hair.

The dress fit you perfectly, and your hair was swept back in small intricate braids which were held together by golden charms, the rest of your hair sat softly down your back.

“You look beautiful Princess,” Aella spoke breaking the silence, “they are sure to see how you have matured with your years away from the Keep.”

She and Saria smiled softly and dabbed small drops of perfumed oils behind your ears and upon your wrists.

Ensuring that you were ready, Saria and Aella began to clean your chambers as you walked to your door, having the Knight open them for you.

Taking a deep breath you stepped out and began to walk behind the Knight. His white cape swayed behind him as you walked down the corridor to feast with your family again after many years apart.

606 notes · View notes

reyla-the-black-wolf · 15 days

Text

My heart speaks for you (Part 2)

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: angsty fluff?, angst, hints of anxiety, anxiety attack, nightmare

Summary: Y/n is the youngest child of the High Lord of the Night Court and lives a slightly different life than the rest of her family. But what happens, when an unexpected visitor enters the stage and decides to completely change her life?

A/N: Hey guys! It took me a bit longer to write this chapter than I had planned to (accidentally deleted a part of the story ups) but finally did it! And I recommend you listen to "Remember that night" by Sara Kays and "The night we met" by Lord Huron.

Anyway, enjoy reading! 😙

Part 1 ⎮Part 2 ⎮

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Six days. Six days had passed since the incident in the conference room. Six tough days and not a single glimpse of him. No word, no letter, no message of any kind.

The water of the Sidra washed up on the shore in mesmerising waves, each time stealing a bit more of the glittering sand. Sunlight reflected off the mirrored surface, magically illuminating the facade of the River House.

The hammock I sat in swayed gently in the afternoon breeze and, thanks to Elain, the sun didn´t bother me too much. My aunt had planted two Illyrian oaks in our garden the year I was born, providing shade now that they had grown from tiny sprouts into strong, sturdy trees. As I became older, I found my favourite reading spot underneath them. They stood a few feet from the River House and were the perfect place to relax and simply be.

A piece of bark crumbled onto the pages of the book I was holding right now. `Feathers and Fire´ was written in large, ornate letters on the leather-bound cover. Nesta had borrowed me one of her novels to keep me company, as I had spent the last few days mostly by myself.

I give up! After reading the same paragraph for the third time in a row, I finally slammed the book shut. I had really tried to concentrate on the story in the last hour, but my mind had drifted off more than once. And always back to the same place.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

I was in shock. Or so I thought, as I couldn´t think clearly. My mind was racing and my heart was pounding so loudly that all of Velaris must´ve heard it.

Mate. Eris Vanserra was my mate.

I couldn´t believe it. I mean, he doesn´t even know me?

The beige sofa under my legs felt too soft, as if it wanted to pull me into a hug and never let go. And the ticking clock on the opposite wall made my ears twitch in annoyance, so I decided to get up and pace around the living room, trying to quiet my mind. I was massaging my temples to ground myself a little when a soft touch stopped me in my tracks. Small, gentle fingers starting to trail along my shoulder in a soothing rhythm.

„Sweetheart, look at me, please.“ My mother´s calm voice made me turn to her. „Everything´s going to be all right.“ She radiated pure love. „Whatever happens next, I want you to know you´re not alone. I´m here for you, okay, honey?“ It helped slow down my racing heart a little, but not enough. I sincerely hoped my father and his brothers hadn´t beaten Eris to death just out of anger.

Just as I thought of them, three men winnowed into the living room. With long strides, my father rushed towards me, some of his darkness still clinging onto him, and cupped my face with both hands. „Darling, are you all right? Are you hurt? Do you need anything?“ He asked worriedly as he inspected me for any injuries, whatever he was looking for.

I withdrew from his grasp, spun around once to show him I was fine, and put on my most reassuring smile to calm his worries, making his tensed muscles relax. „I´m so sorry. I never wanted you to see this.“ Regret seeped into his voice. „But…“ He paused, visibly struggling to find his next words. „Did the bond snap for you too?“ The question caught me entirely off guard, as I thought he was angry with me, trying to argue. I could almost feel my family holding their breath, dreading my answer. Silky hair fell around my face, casting tender shadows on my features as I shook my head. A quick glance at my parents and I knew they were having a silent conversation. Sweat formed on my palms as I unconsciously clenched my hand into a fist. With each passing second, an unpleasant feeling returned to my stomach, making me want to throw up.

It spread even further when my father turned his attention back to me, and my heart sank as I noticed the sudden change in his expression. A completely blank canvas. The mask of a High Lord. Others probably wouldn´t see through his masquerade of deceit. But I could. I did. I had studied his features over the years, every time he put it on. How his jaw tightened just an inch, noticeable only to the trained eye. How his eyes shimmered in a more vibrant shade of violet. I´d seen him in his role so many times that I´d learned to watch out for him. The real him. Not the High Lord, but my father. He kept his face sealed, but I could see what he hid behind that mask. Fury over Eris. His worry. But the strongest emotion was his love for me.

„I want you to stay away from him. Or even talk to him.“ Someone had just knocked all the air out of my lungs and punched me in the guts. I hadn´t been braced for what was to come. My pulse skipped a beat and the blood in my veins began to boil. He can´t do this! Voices shouted in my head and a lump formed in the back of my throat. But why? I didn´t even know Eris, even though he was my mate. I shouldn´t be so disappointed. He is practically a stranger.

At a loss for words, I stared at my parents. „We don´t want to make decisions about your life, but Eris is a... complicated man.“ my mother interjected. You mean dangerous.

„Wait, Eris is your mate?“ I flinched and turned around, only to spot my brother hidden in the darkness with a shit-eating grin on his face. „Finally something interesting is happening.“ he chuckled, earning him a slap on the neck from Cass. „Hey!“ he cried out as my father shot him a warning glare before continuing his lecture. „Darling, listen. We only want to protect you and make sure you don´t get hurt. And Eris is not good company. He has proven that several times in the past. So please believe us when we tell you to stay away from him. We have our reasons.“ And what are they? A knot tightened in my stomach when I heard Azriel whispering from behind: „Especially after what he did to Mor.“

But he is my mate! Even if we don´t know each other well, don´t I have the right to figure out what´s happening between us? My mind screamed at me. Say something! Anything! You know you can! I forced my thoughts to shut down. We would not have this conversation now. Fight back! But I didn´t. I understood that my parents were trying to protect me. They were angry, no doubt, but with the love in their eyes, I couldn´t argue against them.

So I only looked up and nodded, giving them a coy smile, even though it felt wrong. So terribly wrong.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

This moment had been stuck in my head for the past few days. Although I´d agreed not to approach Eris, somehow I still hoped he would talk to me. Maybe to explain when and how the bond had snapped for him.

Starlight? Az is waiting for you in the training ring.

Oh, right. I looked at the sun, which was already sinking deeper into the sky. Uncle Az had asked me yesterday if I wanted to train with him. We usually met at the same time every week to train, but over the last few days he had become more careful around me, giving me more space.

I quickly stowed the book away, not wanting Nesta to get upset if something happened to her beloved book. Changing into my fighting gear, I winnowed to meet Azriel.

„Faster!“ Azriel shouted, lunging forward, but not fast enough. I sidestepped his punch to the right, and in the brief moment his defence was down, I landed three swift blows to his ribs. He groaned in pain and tried to sweep me off my feet in one smooth motion. Just as I was about to dive again, my back hit the sandy ground, Truthteller at my throat. A sweaty Azriel lay on top of me.

He pulled me up, brushing the sand from my clothes. „That wasn´t too bad, but you´re less focused today.“ A questioning look crossed his face for a second as he looked down at me, then it returned to his usual straight expression.

I opened my mouth slightly as if to reply, but shrugged instead and walked towards the edge of the training ground, breathing heavily. Az only threw a knowing look in my direction. He knows. He knows how I feel.

We had been training for about two hours and I didn´t know how my muscles were still able to keep me standing, but anyway, I was grateful for them when I winnowed us back to the River House for dinner.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

After a quick shower, I now sat opposite to my brother at the wooden table eating dinner and it was truly a symphony for the senses. Wine glasses clinking. Knives scraping against plates. The aromatic scent of grilled steak and vegetables wafting through the room as my family engaged in a huge debate about who had the biggest wingspan. All I could do was smile at the silliness of it all and feel it seep into my soul.

My father stroked my back lazily beside me, probably to keep calm, as Nyx started throwing peas across the table at Cassian, who dodged them. It really was ridiculous. „Seriously! A little decency, please!“ Amren hissed at this `display of strength´. Mor chuckled, „They´re Illyrians. Do you really think their egos would just ignore it if someone with bigger wings came along?“ My mother nearly choked on her wine at this comment, earning an amused look from her husband. „Can we all just calm down a little before the whole dining room is decorated with pieces of food?“ A quick, stern glance around the table from the High Lord and everyone resumed eating, interrupted now and then by a few giggles.

Ten minutes had passed, and the others had just finished chatting about upcoming events in Velaris, when Amren apparently decided to break the comfortable silence. „So y/n. Has anything been happening with the Autumn Heir lately?“ The wicked smirk on her face made her look like a cat that had caught a mouse to play with. All of a sudden, the room fell silent and everyone stopped eating. I felt my father stiffen beside me, his muscles tense. „Amren.“ Azriel warned, a low growl escaping his throat. „What? Just a sincere question.“ Not impressed by his threatening face. Not in the slightest.

Of course, the incident with Eris had spread around the River House throughout the last few days, fuelling rumours, but the others hadn´t said anything to me yet. I should have guessed that it was only a matter of time until the tension would blow up.

I think I might throw up. I certainly wasn´t in the mood to talk about it with my family. Not today. My blood froze as I gathered the strength to look into Amren´s cold, steely eyes, which were fixed directly on me. She didn´t even flinch when my father shot her a terrifying glare that would send shivers down your spine.

Words began to flow into my mind, begging to be heard and a familiar feeling crept through my entire body, making my nerves go blank. It felt like I couldn´t breathe.

„Are you all right, dear? You look a bit pale.“ she said, making me feel even more nauseous. „Amren, don´t.“ Everyone had stopped breathing by now. „You don´t have to answer her question, darling.“ My father´s hand darted out to graze my fingers, but I pulled back at the sensation. „You are his mate y/n, aren´t you? Must be desperate to know why.“ „Enough!“ Pure darkness collected in the corners of the dining room, ready to consume everything. I´d never seen my father so pissed off. „Why would you say such a thing?“ Mor uttered. „Exactly! She´s my sister, I´m the only one allowed to make fun of her!“, Nyx joined in. „I´m in the mood for some trouble.“ she responded honestly, taking a sip from her wine glass, completely untroubled.

Everyone began to talk over each other, making it difficult to distinguish the individual voices. Tears welled up in my eyes as I covered my ears. The noise was becoming too much to bear. I sniffled, holding back a cry as I stood up and took a few steps away from the table. My chair scraped along the floor, causing everyone to turn around to me and all the shouting stopped. The tears began to trickle down my cheeks as my mother noticed them first, „Sweetheart, we´re so sorry.“ She stood up too. „We didn't mean to make you cry.“ Mor tried to reassure me, guilt clouding her voice. Everything felt too overwhelming. Leave. Walk away. Get out of this situation.

„Starlight, come here. It´ll be fine.“ He took a few steps in my direction, but I quickly held my hand up in front of him to keep a distance between me and my father.

„Y/n. Darling, we´re…“ But he stopped when I shook my head and scowled at him. Stared at all of them, anger written on my face, before I winnowed to my room. Leaving them all guilty and silent.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

With my back against the door, I sank to the floor, tears streaming down my face. It´s my life! I get to decide how I deal with Eris! Why do they keep talking about it like it isn´t my decision? Like it´s not my life?

My nails scraped the floor, attempting to hold on to something, anything, as I spiralled down a path I didn´t want to go. A guttural sound escaped my lips as my hand clenched into a fist and slammed into the expensive wood panels beneath me. Pain shot through my knuckles, making me want to scream. Anger. Fear. Emptiness. These emotions ran through my mind as my body shook with sobs. Why can´t I just talk? I want to, but I can´t... I don´t know... the words just won´t come out when I try. It made me even angrier when I thought about it. Do I not feel safe enough around my own family to talk to them? Or is there something wrong with me?

A knot formed in my stomach. I had never had a big problem with myself before. Not with my body, nor with my inability to speak to others. But now I wished, longed to talk to someone. Just someone who understood me. Someone who...

A certain scent wafted through the room making me pay attention. Was that smoke? I sat up straighter to observe my own bedroom. Books were scattered across the floor and the door to the neighbouring bathroom was open. My bed was made, covered in indigo silk sheets that shimmered slightly in the moonlight streaming in through the closed windows. A few plants hung from the frescoed ceiling. Nothing more.

My eyes were no longer watery and my heartbeat had stabilised. But I could still smell that there was... something. Parchment.

I looked over at my desk, which was littered with various rolls of parchment, papers and pencils of all kinds. But right in the middle. Something had changed.

Slowly, on shaky legs, I got up and walked over to my desk. A crimson envelope lay there, and next to it a shiny golden feather with light brown spots. I couldn´t remember putting anything like that here. It smelled of an open fire, fresh rain and a hint of vanilla.

Deep down I knew who must have sent it. I opened the letter with trembling hands.

・✧✵✧・✧✵✧・

Hello Princess,

Do you remember the night we met? To be honest, I can´t forget you. Standing on the balcony in your stunning gown, watching the stars fall upon you, even though they couldn´t diminish your appearance. At first I wasn´t sure how to approach you, but I did it anyway.

And it turned out to be one of the most wonderful nights I have ever had, and I wanted to thank you for it.

I could almost hear him chuckling to himself as a warmth filled my heart.

As you probably know by now, I'm your mate, but I don´t want you to feel obligated to anything that concerns me. It is your decision whether or not you wish to meet with me. ( Though I wouldn´t mind, of course)

A blush spread across my tear-stained cheeks and I instinctively smiled. He had thought of me. He really had. My heart melted like snow in early spring. Something about him made me feel complete and understood.

But if that´s the case, winnow to the border of Autumn in two days. I´ll be waiting for you under a birch tree when the sun sets. You can´t miss it. Sleep well, Princess!

His letter also contained a small note.

(Oh, the feather and the paper you write on will appear on my desk as soon as you write back).

・✧✵✧・✧✵✧・

I was speechless. Not just because he had thought of me or wanted to meet me. No. But because he would let me decide for myself. He wouldn´t force me to accept the bond, even if it hadn´t snapped for me yet.

Not wanting to think clearly at the moment, I did the only thing that seemed right. I broke the agreement with my parents.

I pulled out the chair, sat down, picked up the quill and wrote back.

Half an hour later, I was lying in my bed, surrounded by fluffy pillows and a gentle night breeze caressing my form. A few candles were lit to provide some sort of night light.

Just as I was falling asleep, footsteps came from the hallway and my bedroom door creaked as it slowly opened. I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, not wanting to talk to whoever it was. „Darling, are you still awake?“ My father´s voice echoed through the room as he peeked out from behind the door.

Just breathe. He won´t recognise it.

And he didn´t. He only walked over to my bed and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ear, while the last thing I heard was him whispering: „I´m deeply sorry, Starlight.“ before he silently walked out of my room, leaving me alone.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not the slightest flicker of light. Total darkness consumed everything around me. No light, nor sun, nor any kind of something... soft. Something to keep me warm as the cold crept up my body, like a hidden shadow from the depths of darkness.

I gasped for some air to reach my lungs, but all I could inhale was dust. Air! I need air! My lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen and a tingling sensation shot through my entire being.

I felt like a flame being smothered as a deep, dark wave crashed over me, trying to drown me, as if I were nothing. As if I didn´t matter.

The darkness drew closer with each passing second. Minute? Hour? Time didn´t matter in this place of emptiness. A place without walls or windows or even solid ground. The only things that trapped me were my own thoughts and the giant beast I couldn´t see, but felt. It swallowed everything around it as its claws raked along my skin, my soul, leaving scratches all over me.

I screamed, but all that came out of my mouth was... nothing. Every sound, no matter how small, was absorbed by the emptiness of this place.

My body was drenched in sweat and my voice must have been hoarse by now from screaming my heart out for I don´t know how long. Slowly my body was losing consciousness and I was drifting further and further into the devouring void as I frantically tried to breathe. Please! I need to breathe! My heart stuttered for a moment. Help... help me! Somebody! Please, I... Hot tears streamed down my face and my eyes slowly closed as I was suffocated and drowned by the beast that guarded this place. My body went limp, tired from fighting.

A gentle brush of soft fur against my back was the last thing I felt as I drifted into nothingness.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・��︎✦・✴︎✦

I jolted out of my sleep, my heart racing and the sheets beneath me damp with sweat. You´re awake! Everything is fine! I placed my hand over my chest, feeling my pulse slowly steady as I realised it was all just a nightmare. The silver curtains swayed slightly at the open windows and the moon shone so brightly I had to blink my eyes. `Shh, it´s all right, Little one. I´m here´ it yearned to say. My breathing had normalised and I ran a hand through my sticky hair. It was just a dream. I lay back and tried to sleep again, but I knew it was going to be a long night.

✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦

@tele86 @circe143

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris x reader #acotar fandom

81 notes · View notes

vampyrsm · 2 years

Text

'The Forbidden Flame.' Chapter II Prince Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Synopsis: The Summer Festival is finally here. The tournament is meant to bring together the noble families of Ilgis, but instead, a clear divide is made when the Prince is unable to push down the anger that bubbles from his mouth like fiery lava.

Warnings: MDNI. There is no smut but it is graphic. Mentions of flaying, mentions of torture, slight misogynistic views, very detailed descriptions of violence, blood, fighting, character death, jealousy, yandere behaviour(?). Please take care with the warnings.

Word Count: 6829.

[Glossary] | [Masterlist] | [Previous] | [Next]

A rustle of wind blew through the branches of the old grand oak trees that hung overhead and the long grass that came up to your calves. The birds were loud this morning, chirping as they sang their usual morning song to signify the start of the day. Sitting in this field not too far from your home was tranquil. It wasn't much, just a humble log cabin in which you and your family lived. You had a brother, a younger sister and of course your mother and father. Everything was great, the family business was thriving with the call for more weapons on the frontline.

You just never imagined that the frontline would be so close to home.

A long droning noise, similar to that of a horn of some kind, reverberated against your chest, the birds had fallen silent you noted and it was like the wind had died in the air. It was the only calm you got before you heard the screech of a man—no, a warcry—breech through the treeline at the edge of the field you were lounging in. It all happened so quickly, that you couldn't recognise the sigils of the men racing out of the forest with their rusted bronze axes and spears, their skin painted with dried blood and cracked white paint. That could only mean one thing, it was a northern tribe.

These northern tribes were never one to bend under the rule of the crown, they were known to rape and pillage the villages closest to their outposts that were so deep north that no one believed they could live up there in such horrific conditions. The stories they told of these tribes were ones you grew up on, having your mother tell the darkest of stories to ensure you never went out alone in the dark as a child. If you did, she said, you'd be taken away by these men in wolf fur and used as a sacrifice to their God; the Ice Giant.

Just as you scampered to get to your feet, grasping at the ends of your skirt to make sure you didn't tumble over yourself. You felt a different kind of booming chill you right to your bones, even the sound of the tribe running directly towards you was drowned out by something you could never, ever forget. It happened all very quickly, there was a brief moment of absolute silence before a screeching roar ripped through the air and then something darker than the night sky shot through the sky like an arrow fired from a bow.

You weren't a complete idiot, you knew what that was. It was a dragon, and only one family in the entire realm had dragons like that.

You felt the heat hit you like a brick wall, making you hiss and shield your face away with your arms when the blazing inferno spiralled down from the black creature in the sky. The screams of the men were drowned out by the sizzling of their bodies, by the whoosh of large wings that beat once before disappearing again into the clouds overhead.

Once you believed it to be clear, you slowly dropped your arms down to only stare in horror at the sight before you. There wasn't even anything left of the men, their weapons nothing but bubbling steel and their bodies were ash, flurrying away when another strong breeze rustled through the trees shaking you from your staring.

You had to get home, if the tribes were this close then your family could be in danger too. They clearly weren't a small tribe, and if the Northmen had to get a dragon involved in a fight—you hated to think about just how large scale of an attack was hitting the village you lived in.

Sprinting back towards your home, the smell of smoke and something you now knew was the smell of flesh that had been burned by something hotter than any flame you had ever seen. It turned your stomach uncomfortably, you worried about your family. Your father wasn't home, he had gone into the next village over to trade for the upcoming winter, your brother was the only man left in the house to defend your mother and sister but would he be enough?

These men were brutes.

You skidded around the loose dirt path that led up towards your home, but you could already see the fire from here. The smoke was high up into the sky, a signal to those who were passing through that the house had been successfully raided and to you, a signal that your worst nightmare had come true. But it was much, much worse than you could've ever imagined. The first person you saw was your brother, or rather, parts of him. They flayed him, like some deer, he was splayed out against the wooden door that had been ripped off of its hinges and used as the board to torture him.

The scream didn't fully escape your throat until you glanced through the now open doorway, and there was your mother. You couldn't identify what had killed her, or how they had managed to mangle her body so badly with just the use of their bare hands. The bile burned at your throat, your body lurching over to expel everything you had eaten for your breakfast that morning. You couldn't see your sister's body, she was much younger than you, your mind instantly leapt at the idea that she had been taken, the stories your mother told you as a child had come true. Your little sister would be used as one of their sacrifices, and there was nothing you could do.

...

You gasped as you sat up in the furs of your bed, hands clamping down into the sheep skin and fur to cling to it—to reality. It was just a nightmare, you had to keep reminding yourself, just a nightmare to taunt you. Your skin felt clammy, hair sticking to the back of your neck and around your face as you heaved in deep and heavy breaths. Glancing towards the cracked open window, the sun was just starting to rise, being so far into the city you didn't hear the chirp of birds. You missed your home, the south wasn't nearly as accommodating compared to further up north. The ground was mostly dried out from the heat, the water tasted different and the people here were much more hostile.

It didn't feel like home to you, but you had no choice but to follow your father here after the events that happened.

Deciding to get on with your day, you got up, trying not to cringe at the wet patch of sweat left in your wake in the many furs and sheets that you had bundled yourself up in last night. If the sun was just rising, you wouldn't have long until your father was awake. You had to get the order of weapons he had made yesterday to the arena before it all started, which gave you roughly two hours to get it completed. It shouldn't take too long, if you get through the city streets fast enough then you'd have time to spare before you attend the tournament.

With a plan now in mind, you got to starting your day properly. Taking a quick bath in the wooden tub, was more like a bucket than anything but it would have to do to just rid the sweat and the lingering reminder of the nightmare from your body. It wasn't unusual for you to get these sorts of nightmares, but it was no real surprise when they started to pop up more frequently ever since you started to live deeper into Dragon's Perch, seeing the dragons pass overhead almost every day was enough to send a shockwave of awful memories through you.

By the time you were ready to start loading the weapons on the cart, the streets had slowly started to wake up. Drunkards crawling from their shadowed sleeping spots in the dark alleys and young boys running through the streets with their excitement bubbling at the prospect of seeing the dragons up close and personal today. It was always a spectacle, everyone loved to be near the beasts, it was very rare otherwise to get close to them.

Hauling the weapons onto the cart seemed to be a job you underestimated, your father must've made more than he needed to. It made sense, you supposed, that a lot of the weapons would be destroyed by nightfall from the sheer ferocity of the fights that would happen in just a few hours. Lifting up one of the boxes seemed to be your downfall, a foot wobbling on the uneven cobblestone and the weapons clanged against one another as you tried to lift the box high enough to just shove it onto the cart.

A curse word was all you were able to shout, ankle rolling beneath you and you braced to expect the cold floor beneath your back and the possibility of being impaled by one of the many swords. That was until a large hand clasped around your waist, and forced your back to meet a solid body of warmth. Tentatively you looked up, expecting to see an old man or someone worse coming to your rescue, but you were pleasantly surprised by the head of green curls, some darker than others to give the illusion that he had black hair too.

His eyes reminded you of home, they were green, but they were warm also. Like he would never do anything wrong to you, that he would always make you smile no matter what. You felt safe. He was massive, at least a foot on you in height but he was slim, well-built you realised from the sturdy way he was holding your body effortlessly, not even noticing that he had used a single hand to grab the box of swords to push it onto the cart in front of you.

Realising you had been staring too long, you blinked quickly and removed yourself from his grasp and patted down your dress. You turned to face him properly, head forced back to meet his gaze. "Thank you, for saving me from a very sad death." you tried to joke lightly, smiling at him until he smiled back just as gently, a large hand running through the back of his hair.

"No need to thank me. Just happened to be at the right place at the right time I suppose." His accent was northern, painfully so, it made your eyes widen a little in curiosity. He sounded like he came from The Frozen Reach. "Do you need help with the rest of them?", he pointed to the large stack of boxes and crates that needed to be hauled up.

"Oh! Right," you turned to look at the boxes, huffing at the sight of them all. "If you wouldn't mind, of course. I don't want to keep you from your morning, it's going to be a very busy day." you glanced back at him, but he was already moving to the boxes and hauling up two of them effortlessly on top of each other.

He deposited them on the cart, moving to get another before he spoke "It's no problem, really, I don't have much to do today other than attending the tournaments later today." It made sense, most men didn't work today unless they were older, or too young to carry the heavy stuff. It was all about them getting a chance to prove that they were "real men", a barbaric way of doing it but it was something they apparently wanted.

You nodded, helping him with readjusting the crates on the cart in order to make sure they all fit. "Are you a fighter?" you asked, eyes trailing over the obvious muscles he was sporting despite being so lean, that he looked like he was a soldier. Perhaps a commander of some kind. If he was from The Frozen Reach, it was very likely he was a nobleman of his own house given his stature and the way he spoke, it wasn't inelegant as some of the other northern men you had met.

"Today I am," he smiled, pushing another crate on the cart. "But usually I'm just a stablehand." You blinked at him, wide eyes and slightly gaping mouth. A stablehand? He didn't look the type! Most of them were scrawny little boys who were being disciplined for being little shits to their fathers! He was a grown man, a big grown man. He caught the look on your face, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. "I know, I don't seem the type."

"No!" you started, "I mean, you seem far too..." he laughed when you gestured at his height and the size of his arms. "I would've never thought you were a stablehand, may I ask who for?" That made him stop for a moment, running a hand up along his forehead and through his hair, he eyed you for a moment clearly making some sort of silent judgement about his next words.

He must've come to a good decision as his shoulders relaxed, leaning a hip against the cart. "The Todoroki's." you gasped, the Todoroki's were a big house. One of the more noble ones, they were known for their fiery temperament in battle, and their unwavering need to be the best. "Though I rarely interact with Lord Enji, I'm more of a stablehand for his son."

"You mean the Shoto Todoroki?" he nodded. "Wow, I mean, you must be the subject of a lot of ire and envy from all the women in the North. I'm sure even they would muck out his stables if it meant to breathe the same air as him!" you exclaimed, it was true, the young Lord was no secret from the realm. Especially to those up north, he was almost like royalty himself—just without the crown, and dragons. Though you wonder what he would look like on a dragon, elegant and so graceful most likely. Nothing like the barbaric prince who grinned when he watched his dragon rip apart outposts.

"It sounds like you might be one of them," he winks, and you blush profusely and shake your head. Of course, you weren't blind, you could see that Shoto was very, very attractive but he was a Lord. Highborn, he was destined for great things whereas you were just a lowborn girl who worked for her blacksmith of a father.

"Oh, no, I don't think I could work with horses all day," you started, moving to connect the cart to your own family horse. "What I mean is it's not a bad job! Of course. I just wouldn't like to do it." you tried to recover, but the green-haired man didn't seem bothered.

Instead, he just shrugged a little, smiling. "It's not for everyone I get it, I'm happy to just have a place to sleep and eat every night." that got your attention as you sat on the wooden bench of the cart, the man sitting down next to you.

"I never got your name," you clicked your tongue, directing the horse on through the streets, they were much busier than you would've liked but it wasn't too bad. People moved out of the way quickly enough. "You speak well, so I'm assuming you come from a noble house."

The man next to you shifted, you were too focused on the road ahead of you to see the uncomfortable expression on his face. "Oh, Izuku." he supplied, just a first name was a little odd so you side-eyed him for a second, instantly catching his gaze. "Midoriya, it's a uh, dead house." That made more sense, but it was still odd that he referred to it as a dead house, a lot of people would be still brimming with pride that they couldn't be fully defeated. It left an odd feeling in your stomach.

"I see, sorry for asking." you were quick enough to reply, tightening your hands on the reigns. "I don't recognise the name, maybe it's because I'm not from as far north as you?" you wanted him to not feel so shameful about his name, having a house name was a prideful thing. You would kill to have a name worth recognising, but alas no one ever recognised the blacksmith's family never mind the blacksmith's daughter.

"Maybe," was all he replied with, again leaving you with an air of uncertainty.

The rest of the ride was relevantly silent, not that you minded much. Despite the man having the face of an angel, and a voice to match, he gave you an odd sense of dread that set deep in your stomach. It wasn't as if you felt immediate danger, it was more... the idea that he was hiding the truth behind who he really was. Only people who wished to hide from something, or someone, would say their house was dead. After all, who would search for a dead man?

Arriving at The Pandemonium, you noticed several other carts had arrived filled to the brim with armour, sigils on shields that would be wielded in just a few short hours. Numerous men with the Bakugou sigil on their chests were moving around, all the King's men ordering about the cart drivers and other workers to make sure the day went off without a hitch. It wasn't long before you were seen to, the man in the black armour giving you a look over before his eyes locked onto the tall green-haired man next to you.

You watched as the soldier's eyes wandered over his features for a moment, eyes darting from the green curls and down to his stature. Izuku was rigid as a rock wall, unwavering as he stared down at the man who was inspecting just a little too closely. Why would the King's men have an interest in Izuku? It made the palms of your hands sweaty around the reigns, your heart thundering in your chest at the prospect of being turned away. Your father would be furious, you dread to imagine what he'd do if you got turned away from the arena. He would—

"Good to go." The Soldier commented finally, a wave of relief washing over you from head to toe and you saw Izuku visibly relax a little out of the corner of your eye. Was he nervous too? I suppose it makes sense, it wouldn't be the King who deals with him directly but rather the Prince as he was commander of the army and all its men. The King was just to who they swore loyalty. You thanked the man, making haste to click your tongue and jostle the reigns slightly to get the horse and cart back into motion.

The back entrance to The Pandemonium was essentially just a large cave opening, carved out to allow the entry of the biggest of dragons. There were columns supporting the entrance from where it had been hand-carved, it was made from what looked like a mixture of stone and obsidian. The long tunnel entrance was dark, just the occasional oil lamp that was perched within a carved-out ditch in the wall, most likely to ensure the dragons didn't accidentally hit them on their way past you supposed.

It was like all sound suddenly vanished once you were completely in the tunnel, the drip of water from the limestone stalactites above and the rattling of the wooden cart behind you. It was unnerving, the darkness moved and flickered as if something was darting about to avoid being seen. Could it be a dragon? Would it attack? If it was small enough to hide in the shadows then perhaps it was just a young dragon, did they have those? Your mind was running a mile a minute as your eyes darted from corner to corner, flinching when the cart bumped into a hole and splashed water up onto your feet through the gaps of the wooden cart.

Izuku was watching you out of the corner of his eye, observing each flinch and hitch of your breath as you continued to venture further into the tunnel. He shifted his body slightly closer, large thigh now pressed against your own and he wasn't sure if you knew what you were doing, but you seemed to lean more into him as if you knew he'd protect you from the darkness, and what lurks there.

Or rather, who lurks there. He's familiar with that feeling of eyes hotter than hellfire boring into his skin, he knew just who was lurking in the veil of darkness. And Izuku couldn't stop the way his lips curled up into a smirk, of course he'd come out early to the Dragon's pit.

The low groaning of the metal gate at the end of the tunnel finally allowed you to relax, edging slightly away from the man to who you subconsciously leaned closer for safety. It felt like eyes were on you like something was preying on you. It was an unnerving feeling, something you had only ever felt once before when you had seen eyes as red as blood lurking outside of your home not too many nights ago.

Izuku was first to hop off of the cart once it slowed to a stop, helping you down and making quick work of offloading everything from the carts. At least now you can say you got them delivered safely, your father would have no reason to scream and shout at you now. Perhaps he'd actually smile this time. The thought was just a fantasy, of course, you knew your father hadn't smiled since the death of your family and he most definitely wouldn't stop shouting at you—blaming you for everything.

"Are you okay?" Izuku asked, having seen you stand staring blankly at the cart in front of you. He had finished unloading the rest for you, you hadn't even noticed until you blinked away the darkness shielding your eyes and you looked up at the man in question. "Does this place scare you that much?"

You laughed, albeit rather nervously and breathy which didn't help your case at all. "Oh, no, it's nothing." you smiled at him, eyes darting back to the cart and then to the unloaded boxes. "Thank you for this, really. You didn't have to."

Izuku shook his head, that charming smile gracing his lips again. "Don't worry about it, I'm always happy to help someone as beautiful as you." the comment made you blush, hard, the heat flooding your face made your eyes widen and abruptly look away from him. His laugh was loud, bouncing off of the rocky cavern walls, it was a joyful laugh but it felt almost predatory in such an empty space. "Sorry, that was a bit too forward. Even for me."

"No, no, it's just I don't hear that very often," you admitted, it was true, not many men would say such things to you. You were just a blacksmith's daughter, the daughter of a mostly dead family—you were too much baggage for anyone to take on, and the idea of a quick fuck had never appealed to you much.

It was quiet for a moment between the two of you before you jumped out of your skin at the walls rumbling with a loud roar that seemed so much louder than it should've been. It was as if it was right behind you. The walls crumbled a little at the sheer force of the roar, and your eyes briefly darted across to Izuku who was stood stonefaced and unflinching at the noise. How could he not be scared?

"Promise they're not as close as it might sound," was all he offered, a gentle smile on his face that didn't quite match the odd glaze of his forest green eyes. Something crawled down your spine, something like the realisation that this man was no longer safe to be around, especially not in a dark damp cave surrounded by roaring dragons and hardly lit oil lamps.

"R-Right," you cleared your throat, hopping back onto the empty cart and adjusting the reigns in your hands. "We should be getting back, we have only two hours until the first fight." You watched his face light up when you mentioned the fight, and he wasted no time in hopping back onto the cart with a different air of excitement about him now. Maybe you'd put a little more effort into making sure you got your cart back home quicker than usual, you had to get away from this man.

...

Crimson.

That was all that shrouded his eyes, his head pounding with the blood that was sloshing around his body in heated waves. He was enraged, the pounding of his heart was like a drum in his ears. The metal that was currently in his hand bending under the pressure of being crushed inside of his curled fist, and the chatter around him was loud. Too loud. Everything was too loud, and far too much for the Dragon Prince.

Katsuki had never felt this kind of rage, it was a bubbling type that built up from his stomach and encased his heart before it clawed up at his throat like a volcano ready to erupt. And all his mind could supply in a time like this was the same images on repeat, over and over. And each time they always involved you. He didn't understand it, this sudden obsession his mind had taken with you, he shouldn't have cared when he was lurking in the shadows on the way to Xol, when he heard a voice he hadn't expected to hear today.

His stomach turned at the reminder of how the familiar green-haired man pushed himself closer to your body on that cart, how he draped himself practically around you—as if that could ever stop Katsuki or any of the dragons that were just beyond the walls surrounding you. It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't caught the glimpse of that self-satisfied smirk on Izuku's face, the way his eyes were darkened with something Katsuki had only ever seen in the worst of men.

"Your Grace?" came the voice of one of his guards, his eyes darting to look at who dared to address him just to come face to face with Eijirou, the man had removed his usual helmet and held it under his arm. Just to his side were the other two guards assigned to the prince; Denki Kaminari and Hanta Sero. The two were just as fearlessly loyal as their tall red-haired commander. All of them would be having their own fights today, it was a festival of celebration and everyone was invited to take part.

Of course, though, they'd never fight the Prince himself out of fear of what may overtake him in the throes of intense battle and bloodlust.

Katsuki blinked away the imagery in his mind, trying his hardest to focus for the remainder of the day. He can't afford a slipup, not if his father was watching so closely. "What is it?" he snapped back to Eijirou, the man seeming relieved that he got a semi-normal response from the blonde man.

"It's starting, you'll be up first so they can free you up for the rest of the day." Eijirou stepped back once Katsuki got up from his perched position on top of the old wooden table, he stretched his arms high above his head and rolled his neck from side to side.

The first thing of the day was the hand-to-hand combat fighting, later in the evening would they bring out the dragons as they were creatures of the night, they'd be more 'feisty' to fight with. Katsuki knew he'd come out on top of the fights, he always did. The only fight he had looked forward to was the one with the bastard of Blacksummit but now that had been ripped from beneath him and replaced with this new burning rage he had felt from this morning.

On the other side of the portcullis, Katsuki could see the large crowd that had filled the seating area that surrounded the sand pit. It was deep because of the dragons, but that also meant he would be able to get away with causing damage before someone would come down and stop him. It was a messed-up thought process, but he needed the outlet he realised, if he didn't find someone to punch and kick the living shit out of then he wonders if he would finally explode from the pure anger that was festering in his body.

The portcullis screeched as it rolled upwards, and the uproar of cheering got louder at the realisation that it was about to start. Katsuki could now see his father and mother up in the royal stand, the large throne that had been made just for him sticking out like a sore thumb whilst his mother's glare was deadly once they met eyes. He stepped out into the stream of light that came from the open top of the arena, the screams and clapping thunderously loud against his ears.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The Herald yells loud enough over the crowd, gaining their attention instantly. "Today marks the start of the long summer! And what better way to start such a season than to have our very own Prince of the Dragons fight for us!" The crowd cheers loudly. The fucked up idea of seeing blood and guts spilt by one man gave Katsuki goosebumps. They all came here for him.

Katsuki stood just in the centre of the arena now, he wasn't wearing his traditional armour that one might see when jousting or sword fighting. He abandoned it all for a bare chest, only his forearms covered by tight black sleeves and fitting trousers made of sheep skin that would allow enough movement for him to really lay into whoever was unlucky enough to face him. Around his neck was his family sigil engraved into a necklace, made up of obsidian, glinting in the morning sun as he turned to gauge the audience.

His eyes honed in on a head of green, and then your own. His heart lurched in his chest, you were cornered by the man once again who was crowding you against the seat you were in. Whispering something in your ear and all Katsuki could do is watch at the way your eyes were pleading with his very own, why would you plead for him? He didn't get the chance to think more when the sound of clinking metal and scuffed feet in the sand announced his first rival.

By the looks of it, it was one of the lesser houses' sons, probably pushed in by his father or brothers to be humiliated in front of most of Corvos. Katsuki rolled his shoulders, lowering his stance slightly as the man stripped his own armour off—Katsuki imagines that the boy most likely believes somehow that it would make the fight 'fair', but in truth, it was already over before it began. The poor boy would probably have life-changing injuries once Katsuki was through with him.

Katsuki was the first to make a move, dashing forward that got a loud cheer from the crowd and his arm reared back, a vicious snarl on his face when he saw the fear in the boy's eyes as he widened them, finally realising just who the fuck he was fighting. The second Katsuki felt skin connect with the flesh of his knuckles, it was like his mind blacked out. Giving over the reigns to the pure primal part of himself that fed off of the screams of the crowd when he landed a particularly nasty punch or when he kicked so hard the entire arena cringed at the sound of the other person's bones snapping from the force.

The next time Katsuki blinked he was standing in the centre of the arena again, watching as the squires dragged off another unfortunate victim. His chest was heaving in heavy breaths, his once clean bare chest was now coated in a thick layer of sticky sweat and blood that didn't belong to him. His ashen hair was wilder than usual, and his blood-red eyes were scanning the crowd, in a way a predator would when searching for their prey, as he tried to figure out if he had won already or if someone would dare to challenge him one final time—

"It seems we have one more challenger for the Prince!" The Herald yells again, the crowd cheering right on cue and Katsuki turned just in time to see the man jump down from the ledge that led down from the crowd and into the pit, it wasn't usual for someone to jump in from the crowd but it also wasn't banned. It was a free-for-all after all. The beast deep in his heart snarled at the sight of green curls that bounced once he landed, and his muscles tensed when he stood to his full height.

Izuku Midoriya.

The young Lord of the House that rebelled against the crown.

Katsuki thought the fucker had run off and died somewhere like the sad pathetic bug that he was, but apparently by the looks of things he had been bulking up, training hard if the way his biceps rolled when he pulled off his own cotton shirt and threw it off to the side. Katsuki snarled, larger than normal canines on show and his pupils blown wide as he honed in on his next victim, this was the man that was all over you. This was the one who made you uncomfortable, the one who was smirking when you sought safety.

The Herald announced the start of the fight once again, and the cheers grew louder when Izuku was the first to make a move. His large bounding footsteps caught Katsuki by surprise, a man of that stature shouldn't move so quickly but alas, he was reeling back an arm and Katsuki registered the copper on his tongue before he realised he was staring up at the open ceiling of the arena.

"Ha, surprised to see a familiar face again?" Izuku taunted, words deaf to those in the crowd but louder than any warcry Katsuki had ever heard as the man lashed out for him again. This time Katsuki was quick to move out of the way, body bending to the side with practised ease before he swung his own fist forward, his right hook one of his most famous moves of the day.

Katsuki relished in the way Izuku's entire body reeled backwards from the uppercut, feet staggering back in the bloody sand. "No. Just surprised you had the fucking balls to step foot into my city, you lowlife piece of shit!" he roared, launching himself forward to collide hard with the man in a harsh tackle. Izuku went down hard, but still, he was able to get his hands pushed against the Prince's chest to practically propel him backwards and off of him before he could lock him into position.

Izuku wasted no time in getting up, wiping away the blood that was pouring from his nose with his battered and bruised fist. He was readying his next attack when he noticed Katsuki's eyes weren't even on Izuku anymore, but rather in the direction of where Izuku was previously.

Ah.

"Oh? Someone got your attention, your majesty?" Izuku snickered, enjoying the enraged look that Katsuki shot his way once he had fully gauged your reaction; you were watching with wide eyes but you weren't staring at Izuku, you were watching him. "Sorry to say this, but you don't have a chance in hell with someone as beautiful as her."

The reaction was immediate, Katsuki lurched forward with his fists ready to strike over and over but Izuku was just now warming up, practically dancing around each hit from the blonde. "Shut the fuck up." was all Katsuki could growl out over the rage crushing his throat, his vision was blurred around the edges as he watched Izuku's features light up with glee.

Izuku retaliated, fist reeling back to catch Katsuki directly in the chest which sent the prince tumbling backwards onto his ass, the crowd gasping at the rare sight of the Prince beneath someone. "She really is beautiful, isn't she?" the fake light tone Izuku adopted made Katsuki's stomach turn, the green-haired man approached Katsuki slowly, leering over him like a natural predator and the Prince the unsuspecting prey. "I bet she'll look even better when she's sprawled out beneath me, begging for me to ruin her. Like the common whore she is."

Something snapped deep inside of Katsuki's mind, the way Izuku spoke of you, sullying your name, disrespecting something that was going to be his. Izuku was about to open his mouth again when Katsuki slammed his fist against the broader man's knee, his body instantly crumbling to the floor as his knee buckled. He wasted no time in changing the positions, throwing Izuku down into the sand as he clambered up on top of him.

Izuku's eyes were wide, a maniac grin on his face that screamed he had finally won by managing to make the Prince unbelievably angry. Katsuki kept Izuku pinned beneath him, arms being crushed by the tense grip of the prince's thighs and he was pretty certain he had shattered one of Izuku's knees from the force of the fall. "Yeah, just like this. I bet she'll look even better when I rough her up a li—"

A solid punch to Izuku's jaw sent his head reeling to the side, spit and blood spraying from his mouth and mixing into the already blood-soaked sand. The crowd cheered, chants that vaguely sounded like "Kill! Kill! Kill him!", and the Prince of Dragons was never one to disappoint his people.

Katsuki made the decision, right then and there, that this would be the only true way to clear out the rage he felt, to soothe the burning jealousy that clawed at his skin. It wasn't like it was completely unwarranted either, the man beneath him was an enemy to the crown. His fist tightened again, blood pouring from the open cuts littering his knuckles, waiting for Izuku to meet his eye again before he brought his fist down again.

And again.

And.. again.

The crowd gasped, screaming in jubilation and disgust when there was a sickening crack followed by a loud squelch. Katsuki couldn't see anything but the red-tinted veil over his eyes as he watched Izuku's features morph from something akin to fear, a realisation that he had made a grave mistake in poking the dragon, and then into nothing but a bloodied mixture of protruding bones and brain matter that stuck to Katsuki's fists as he continued to lay fist after fist against the mans face.

The green of his hair turned to more of a dark green, almost black, with the blood soaking into it. Katsuki didn't stop once he felt the sand on the other side of Izuku's skull stick to his bloodied and most likely broken fists. All he could focus on was securing the fact this monster wouldn't be a threat to you, a threat to a future including the both of you.

This was all for you.

A set of large hands hooked under his armpits, yanking him rather viciously off of the lifeless body and his head lulled back, catching sight of the red hair of Eijirou who was shouting something over his head. Katsuki followed his line of sight, seeing his father stand up with his mother clasping a hand over her mouth. They knew Katsuki was a vicious fighter, but they had never seen him crush a man's head with his own bare hands and continue to rip him apart like he was the dragon.

Katsuki let his eyes drift over to where he last saw you, he thinks you're crying with the way your eyes are wide and you have both of your hands clutching against your stomach. You look sick, had he disgusted you? But he did this for you, can't you see? He did this to protect you, to defend your honour, to see that he was the perfect man for you—

The slam of the portcullis cut his view of you off, and he didn't fight the way Eijirou dragged him as if he wasn't the prince. He didn't care about how Eijirou was shouting at the other guards, demanding that they get Katsuki something to wash off the blood from his hands and to get a doctor down here immediately to tend to his wounds.

He didn't care about any of that because all he could focus on was you, and how you looked disgusted with him. Before his eyes rolled into the back of his skull from the exhaustion of splitting a man's head open with his bare hands, and the pain of his injuries setting in deep into his bones, he promised himself that he would seek you out. He'd find you, and he'd show you the reasonings behind his violent fight.

He'll show you.

[Glossary] | [Masterlist] | [Previous] | [Next]

credit for the background image/banner: @vampyrsm please do not plagiarise, or recommend my work to places such as TikTok. taglist: @lyn-soso

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha x you #bnha x self insert #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x you #katsuki x you #bakugo x you #mha fantasy au #fantasy au #long fic #The Forbidden Flame #'The Forbidden Flame'#series

410 notes · View notes

natskys-w · 4 months

Text

I have to much time on my hands AND Can't stop thinking about Jurdan. So if your reading this and it's full of mistakes l apologise l blame the boredom, we should all blame the boredom... and the fact l diden't pay much attention in English class.

"That blue FACED FERAL HARPY, l'm going to visicarate her and entombed her so FAR below the tower of the forgotten. She won't even have insects to keep her company." Jude flung the queen off the chess board, without so much as a glance at the chess piece. That shattered a magical vase that dare be in it's way and embedded itself into the wall, like a knife.

His darling nemesis truly could make anything into a weapon.

"What was Oak thinking, putting himself in danger like that and forming an alliance with her of all people." Jude raged

"Beloved, Alliance is a strong word… Given his intentions"

"He could have come to me- no, should have come to me. He is the prince of Elfhame and the future king… Does he trust me so little."

She said

“Would you have let him go?”

“NO but thats not the point.”

“Well l think” Cardan said as he moved his rook “as a member of your family it would be strange, nay! concerning if he were to bow so easily to authority. It would almost be like breaking tradition.” he reclined back, eyes a little hooded and with that mischievous smile, she loved.

“Look we still don't know enough about his relations with her. From what Madoc and our little spies said. It seems there is something there and for all we know they could just be playing rough.“

Jude answered that with a glare

“She's kidnapped, imprisoned, AND bridled him.”

Jude replied in a slow skeptical monotones voice

“Maybe this is their courtship, and a full invasion and annihilation of your future sister in laws troops will only make holidays more awkward.”

“She is NOT my sister in law and l know what your thinking but they are not the same as us. Again She's kidnapped, enslaved AND BRIDLED him. He's probably being tortured as we speak scared and alone.”

“Wellll… it depends who's doing the kidnapping and enslaving…. The bridle however is a bit much for my taste, we would need a safe word.”

“Cardan!”

She knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to distract her for a little from worrying about her baby brother.

“All l'm saying is maybe he's not so scared and alone and in fact might not appreciate the little assassin on it's way to turn her blood to slush.”

“So you suggest…” Jude looked defeated, Even though she corned his queen and was two moves away from winning.

His heart ached at not being able take away at least some of her pain and anger for a little bit and his voice softened as his hand reached out for hers.

“That we give young love it's chance to bloom. If that's what this is… and if it's not, then rain iron and fire over her and her army.”

“I- l lied to Oriana”

Judes confessed her eyes drowning in tears. She would not let them shed

“ l promised; l would protect him.” her voice breaking even though she looked as hard as stone over the board game her gaze lost on the dancing silhouette of their intertwined hands. The crackling of the fire filled the room as Cardan came to her side and gave a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist and scarred finger before scooping her up and reposition themselves on her seat. Just basking in the moment of warmth before the morning came.

#jurdan fanfic #jude and cardan #the prisoners throne #the prisoners throne fanfic #jude x cardan fanfic #the folk of air #Jude duarte fanfic

22 notes · View notes

bucknastysbabe · 1 year

Text

Back to the Old House Ch:2

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4,456

Tags: PEGGING, dom/sub, family fist fights, racism of the fantasy variety, Aemond hates Strong People, make-up sex, Emotional discussions, planning the sesh while at distressing photo shoots, Daddy Uller is Angy, Politics?, Pentos has good weed hc

A/N: Yes I Named The Dildo That. Also I don’t beta so if something is really dicked up lmk lmfao. The idiots are together what will they face next? Sandy cunts, gay pirates, sacrilegious strap names could be on the docket. Hope y’all ~enjoy~

Previous Chapter

Chapter 2 - You’ve got everything now

Upon awakening you thanked R’hllor for giving you the strength and courage for last night. You stretched and noted the lack of stress on your body. You could still smell the hints of Aegon around— picturing the way he’d hog the covers and cutely scrunch his nose when it was time to get up. Mentally you slapped yourself. It was not time for semantics. You had a phone call to make.

You searched around the covers for your phone, cursing when you couldn’t find it from your prone spot. You sat up and moved around the duvet and pillows. No dice. You probably threw it in your rage last night.

Knock knock knock.

Your body tensed at the noise. Aegon was probably still hungover in a cranny so there was no telling who it was. Rolling out of bed you placed a robe on and tucked your hair behind your ears. Taking a deep breath in you lifted the bar and opened the wooden monstrosity.

MOTHER OF FUCK.

Aegon stood there, looking haggard. You made to slam the door but he wedged himself halfway in. You hissed, “Get back you ass!” He yelped, “Ow! Stop! Just let- fuck- let me in!”

“No!”

“C’mon!”

You tried pushing him out but the bastard was persistent when he wanted to be. Aegon growled, “Gods dammit I need to explain myself before you jet off! I laid out here all fucking night let. Me. In!” He shouldered fully inside and you jumped back, crossing your arms with a huff. Aegon panted and leaned against the dark oak door. His red-rimmed eyes pierced you.

You turned on your heel and distanced yourself to be closer to the dull fire, throwing a log in angrily. Aegon stumbled into a chair still catching his breath. Back turned you spat, “Explain yourself then. Because it just seems like I’m another little pawn in your life to be tossed about.” In a fit of anger you spun and shoved his chest with a shout, “And you of all people don’t get to talk about my family!”

Aegon held his hands up— bottom lip wobbling. He began, “I. I-uh.” He stopped with a heavy swallow and an aversion of your disappointed gaze. Running a nervous hand through his hair he managed, “I got so mad yesterday because dad’s right. I ruin everything I touch.” Aegon paused again with a sniff. Your posture slightly loosened but remained silent.

“I-I would rather run you off being a dick than actually trying and fucking it all up,” the prince warbled.

“Aegon. You absolute idiot. I would’ve ended whatever this is by now if it were you just being a dick,” you sighed.

Fat tears leaked down his reddening cheeks. You fought the urge to wipe them with a twitch. He replied, “No- no- you’re too good for me. You should leave. I was a monster last night.” Blonde locks shook along with his head. You whispered, heart aching, “Do you want me to really go? Because you won’t see me again.” Violet eyes grew wide and he hugged his middle.

The air between you two grew heavy and stagnant.

Aegon finally snapped, “Please don’t leave me. I think- no- I love you,” he dropped to his knees and fisted his hands in your robe. You stared down imperiously, a hand running through platinum knots. You hid your surprise with a flat reply, “I love you too, asshole.” Tears came unbidden to your lashes. With a laughing sob you added, “My dad isn’t a sandy cunt either.” Aegon’s face lit up at your weak joke.

He hugged your waist and nuzzled against your tits. Aegon promised, “I won’t call him a sandy cunt ever again. I’m fucked up but I can’t see my life without you. I-I’ll do my best.” Dropping to your knees you cradled his cheeks, thumbing away his tears. You whispered against his lips, “It’s about damn time, you better be on your best behavior” He surged forward to kiss you, the sounds of waves crashing and seagulls squawking in glee outside. Aegon gasped, “I’m yours.”

Aegon’s hands covered your own while his chapped lips pressed softly. You shared a couple of gentle kisses together gradually getting more heated until you pulled back with curse. Aegon blinked dumbly and asked, “What?”

You frowned and said, “You were too drunk last night to remember but we have a photoshoot today. Shit.”

Aegon groaned and tried to kiss you again, receiving a finger to his plump lips. You shook your head and stated, “We need to get ready. You look and smell awful.” Aegon groaned against your finger, hands coming up to grip your sides. He whined, “I’m so damn hungover. We could just skip.”

You teased, “If you get nice and pretty, behave for some photos I’ll fuck you with Blackfyre after. Be a good member of the nut jobs today.”

Aegon’s eyes widened and he groaned again, “Ah- you know I can’t resist Blackfyre. Or the wielder of it. Fine babe.” You smirked at his submission and finally being called by a pet name. Blackfyre was the big ass strap-on that you had. Usually it made Aegon wail. So you excitedly dragged the weary Targaryen up and shoved him to the shower.

Aegon scrolled through his phone and murmured, “Fuck- gross- we have to do it the garden.” He was decked in a fitting black suit and you in a fiery red jumpsuit of your house. A black jacket and pumps matched your official boyfriend. The sigil of Uller was pinned to your lapel.

You chuckled, “What’s wrong with the garden?”

Aegon rumbled, “Fucking thorns and shit everywhere,” he paused, “You look hot by the way.” You grinned wildly and pinched his ass, earning a cute yelp. The sheer giddiness filling your chest couldn’t fuck up anything today. Daeron walked up behind you two and hummed, “Wow. You’re up before noon.” The younger brother hit his vape.

Aegon nabbed it and took a puff. Daeron snatched it back with a cry, “Hey fucker get your own!” You stifled a laugh and added, “He needs to calm his nerves before doing absolutely nothing.” Aegon shoved both of you with a scoff, darting down a curved hallway. You still had no idea how this castle was built with dragonflame, it confounded you.

Hellholt was imposing but a pretty simple open layout. The old dungeons were a different matter. Aegon held the door open for you and his sibling, mouth set in a grimace. You eyed the ‘garden’. There was a tall twisted statue of ancient stone surrounded by thick, dark trees. Thistles and cranberries littered the ground. It had a nice scent though.

Alicent turned with a surprised look. She gasped, “My, perfect timing! You two look great. I’m so glad you made it Aegon.” She hugged him again, the man awkwardly patting her back. Daeron snorted, “Gee, nice to see you too mom.” Rhaenyra shook the youngest boy and commented, “You look fetching Daeron.”

She turned her icy gaze to you. Nervously you gave a small bow. The princess stoically offered a hand, holding yours. She smiled with an offer, “Would you like to have some wine with me one evening? It would please me to get to know more about Dorne and her interests.” You nodded vicariously and chirped, “I would be honored to! Just let me know when.”

She winked and strode back to her brood of dark headed boys and Daemon. Who was bitching loudly and frequently. Aegon, now released from his mother, pulled an arm around your waist. He asked quietly, “What did my dear half-sis want?”

“Wanted wine and to discuss Dorne.”

He kissed your cheek and muttered, “Typical ‘Nyra. Proud of my future politician.” You raised a brow and whispered, “Are you being nice because of Blackfyre?” You couldn’t help but be wary, Aegon was of the flaky sort. But he seemed determined earlier. You looked down out of fear.

He snorted, “No! I told you I’m on my best behavior. Maybe you’ve sweetened the deal but I’m yours.”

He nuzzled into your neck sweetly. Alicent did a double take at his behavior and returned to ordering the photographer around. Viserys was rolled in by Criston, the elder recounting fights with Daemon here. The rogue prince guffawed, “I always knocked your ass into the berries.”

Jace shuffled over to you and Aegon. He eyed the PDA and asked, “Better I presume?” You both smiled tightly at Rhaenyra’s eldest. Jace shrugged and covered his mouth when he whispered, “Whose boots do I have to lick to get some good weed around here?”

Aegon snickered and jerked his thumb to Daeron, idly scrolling on his phone. Jace lamented, “Blegh- that Oldtown stuff was mid last time.” Daeron, now perked up, joined in, “Chill man this shits from Pentos. Swear.” All four eyes widened as mutual understanding passed over.

Daeron smirked. He texted into a group chat, “Sesh at 5. Wouldn’t want to go to dinner fucked up or anything ;)” You laughed when you saw Baela’s placid face explode into a grin.

The family was gathered. With minimal bickering. Besides Aemond glaring daggers at Luke. Alicent was placing everyone around Viserys. Daemon bitched, “No no no- I get to be behind my brother! We can share! Otto isn’t going to blow up.” Alicent— in a rare moment— flipped him the bird and moved onto her kids. Viserys slapped his knee and turned to his brother with a grin. Rhaenyra settled her own, the younger Viserys on her hip.

Alicent moved you right in front of Aegon, making sure his hand was on your side not your stomach. You snickered, gods forbid anyone think the wayward prince had impregnated a Dornish girl. Aegon rolled his eyes and looked up at Aemond. He teased, “What happened with that girl? Alys was it? Did she get turned off by you killing animals in your free time?”

Aemond gritted his jaw and coolly stated, “Just you wait.” You did admire the second son’s level-headedness— he really did receive a lot of shit. Aegon’s face drained of color and you hissed between your teeth, “Quit it you ass!” He shot you a look and frowned. A quick peck on the lips lightened his mood. Alicent made her way to behind Viserys, a green gloved hand on his shoulder.

The photographer took many exhausting photos, some smiling, some where the children had to switch places. Viserys the younger cried until Rhaenyra had to retrieve the baby off his grandfather’s lap. Even Criston hopped in for a few. Alicent clapped her hands together and said, “Okay. Let’s just have the royal bloodline in the photos now.” Daemon scoffed, “Hurry up with the bloody pictures!”

The royal bloodline excluded you only. Rhaena seemed concerned but Rhaenyra kept the beautiful girl and her sister by her side. Aegon piped up, “Really?” Alicent ranted about marriage and you nodded, stepping to the side. You stood around awkwardly until asking Ser Criston to guide you back seemed the best idea. Before leaving you announced, “Aegon darling- I’ll be in our room!” Poor thing was probably going to pop wood in the pictures now.

Criston commented behind closed doors, “Did you enchant the boy?”

You shrugged, “I think- it’s that I finally told him no and he realized. R’hllor knows how much I do for his princely ass.”

“Good. Little shit.”

You cackled in the dank hallways, trailing behind the quiet man. You’d set up for the inevitable playtime while waiting on Aegon. After multiple maze-like hallways you were back at the familiar oak doors. With a curt thanks to Cole you entered. You needed a cigarette first.

Gazing out to the sea you reflected on recent events. You really, really hoped Aegon would stay true. He seemed upset by Aemond’s words earlier and expressed insecurity about keeping you around. But would he do the right thing? Flicking the ash you had to stamp out the rolling thoughts. For now Aegon seemed honest. He needed you, not the other way around. Maybe.

You stubbed the cig out and made your way to the closet. Underneath a false bottom in your trunk was the motherlode of toys. Lube, dildos, plugs, cuffs, collars, and the grand jewel: your harness. Aegon was going to drool. You snatched the essentials and Blackfyre. Then some softer rope.

The maids seemed to have already made the bed so you laid everything out on a clean towel. Fuck, now you were horny. But lunch first then destroying your boyfriend’s asshole. A buzz resounded through the room. You checked your phone and received a text from the boyfriend in question.

“i had to tuck my dick for the rest of the photoshoot. you suck. omw to get you now.”

Grinning at your phone your heart fluttered. You placed a blanket over the spread. The last thing needed was Aegon trying to jump you over some fancy food. You lit up another cigarette and watched the gulls dance until the door drug against the floor. You turned to the Valyrian and asked, “Make it with no casualties?”

He rolled his eyes and strode over to you, plucking the tobacco out and taking a puff. On the exhale he remarked, “Aemond’s still pouting about the comment but dad had a coughing fit. Saved by the death rattle.” You snorted and took back the cigarette. Aegon’s arms wrapped around your waist, his chin on your shoulder.

He grumbled, “I don’t know how I’m going to get through this damn lunch without taking you to a a room and fucking you.”

You sniffed, “You’ll be fine. I’m the one taking you anyways, little dragon. Besides don’t you want more awkward tension at the table?”

You regretted your words some odd minutes later. Aemond’s mood was apparently contagious. Rhaenyra and Alicent had exchanged heated jabs over waiting for Viserys or not. Daemon interrupted in his usual rude manner, letting the servants place the food. Aegon sipped on some spiced rum, trying to not gulp it down.

Jace and Luke made mocking gestures of Aemond’s sour face. Helaena caught onto it and laughed, “Ha! That looks like my brother!” Aemond jerked out of his chair and seethed, “Do it to my face then!” Aegon snorted and Aemond turned his searing eye onto the elder brother. He quipped, “I don’t know why you’re amused, brother. You’re the laughingstock of the family bringing a Dornish puppet up here. I didn’t bring Alys because I have respect of not letting lesser blood at the table” He turned back to the trio of Velaryons, “Bastard blood.”

You made a weak attempt to hold Aegon back. All hells had broken loose. Daeron grabbed you by the elbow and escorted you from the fighting family. Helaena joined you two, shaking her head, lilac eyes wide. Aegon and Aemond were struggling on the ground with Jace hopping in. Luke tried to pull Aemond back but instead made contact with Aegon— leading to more fists being thrown. Daemon had shoved Joff back in time. Alicent and Rhaenyra took the chance to exchange barbs before grabbing their offspring. Criston, Otto, and Daemon separated the mess.

You wanted to spit in Aemond’s face but held your tongue. Aegon was shoved towards you by Otto. The uncle hissed, “For the love of the Seven go back to your room.” Your boyfriend’s hair was mussed and nose swollen. You thanked Daeron and dabbed a tissue from your pocket onto Aegon’s lip. He sneered and pulled away.

Aegon murmured, “C’mon. Sorry.”

He grabbed your hand and led you along the winding stone. Aegon licked at his bloodied lip. The prince snapped, “The gall of that one-eyed prick! You have more class in your pinky than this viper’s nest!” You soothed, “Aemond has a fragile ego, he’s going for things you’re sensitive about.” Circling your thumb on his palm seemed to ease some of the blonde’s anger.

You murmured at the door, “Thank you for standing up from me.” Aegon pulled you flush to his body, stealing a kiss. He grumbled, “I told you I would do better. I have half a mind to put nair in his shampoo, fucking prick.” Sharing more kisses you smoothed his wild curls back.

You purred against his lips, “Well…I have just the thing to wear you out. Won’t even remember your name baby.”

He nipped your lip and grinned, pushing you through the doors. Your lips stayed sealed to his as Aegon half-waddled you back towards the bed. With a breathless cry you fell back with your dragon on top. Aegon looked gorgeous smiling down at you— full lips stretched across pretty white teeth. You told him so, enjoying the blush.

Aegon sidled between your legs with a soft noise. He groaned, “Fuck- need this s’bad. Need your cock.” You used a strong thigh to roll him over easily. Now astride Aegon’s lap, you started to unbutton his shirt while the prince pulled off his jacket. Surprisingly deft fingers pulled at the zipper of your jumpsuit and unclasped the bra underneath. You paused the frantic movements of your own hands to strip.

Aegon moaned at you clad in a skimpy thong. He gripped at your ass, shoving his face between your tits. Aegon moaned, “Baby- fuck you’re so hot.” You replied, “Lay back down I gotta get you naked now.” He obliged and cried out when his flushed cock hit his belly. You crudely pumped the taught flesh, enjoying the way the prince’s breath hitched.

Your pussy clenched around nothing watching Aegon pant and writhe. He gave control over to you so easily in bed. He whined, “C’mon where’s the toys I know you ah- have them.” With a smack to his flank you uncovered the spread. Aegon’s lashes fluttered at the sight. You ordered, “Arms out ass up.”

He panted, “okay, okay, yes,” and scrambled up the bed. You took your time shimmying on the harness and tightening it. Blackfyre clicked into place and Aegon’s head jerked to look. You tutted, “Patience sweet thing.” Kneeling onto the down of the mattress you grabbed the rope. Aegon whimpered as you gently tied his wrists up.

“Good?”

Pale arms flexed as he tested out the rope. Good. You purred, “You let me know if anything is overwhelming or painful. Am I understood?” A whimpery yes graced your ears. You grabbed the lube and warmed it up between your palms, eyeing his tight hole. It always delighted you when Aegon turned to putty. His body was lax but thrummed with energy underneath, flushing smooth pallid skin.

Your poured the liquid directly between his cheeks, using two fingers to rub it around. Aegon called your name and his arms flexed again. You shuddered and squeezed thick thighs together to calm your own ache. Wasting no time you eased the tips of your fingers inside him. Slowly you worked the prince open until he was drooling onto the bed.

Two fingers snug inside, you scissored open his tight ass. You cooed, “Oh you’re hungry for it.” Aegon nodded deliriously, pushing back onto the intrusion. His movements eased your way to that familiar sweet spot. Aegon cried out and tossed his pale head. You growled, “S’ been over a day no wonder you’re gagging for it. Slutty prince.”

“T-too fuckin’ long,” he ground out.

You eased another finger in. Then your pinky. Aegon was begging by that point.

“Oh fffuck c’mon c’mon please- MH!,” he cried when you drug all four digits across his sensitive prostate. You figured the babe was going to self-combust so with an off hand you lubed up the crudely named dildo. At the sound of the cap opening Aegon whimpered needily.

“Almost there sweet boy,” you cooed.

You carelessly pulled out wet fingers and wiped them on the towel. For good measure you poured more lube— maybe for some self satisfaction too. You gripped Aegon’s slim hips and eased into his puffy rim. He let out a long moan at the intrusion, back arching easily. He really was a good whore.

Sliding your palms up to his waist you rocked deeper, and deeper, until your hips were flush with Aegon. The prince mewled, “O-oh fuck baby I can’t!” He trembled underneath your palms. Waiting patiently you ever so slowly rubbed circles into his flanks.

The blonde tested the waters first, rutting minutely onto the dick. You were rewarded with a pitchy whine. Kissing up his back you asked, “Want me to fuck you now, your highness?” Aegon turned with pleading eyes and a nod. Sliding back out until just the tip was in you slammed back in.

Aegon writhed and jerked in his bonds, crying out. Giving an enthusiastic slap to his ass you started a punishing rhythm, really grinding into the prince. You grinned and grabbed a fistful of platinum hair, Aegon wailing your name. His swollen cock bounced against his pale belly, leaking profusely.

Your thighs burned but you kept up the pace— Aegon liked it rough. Yanking his head back harder you growled into his ear, “Whose ass is this?” He garbled out nonsense, pretty eyes scrunched shut. You pushed your off hand on his back, arching Aegon into a position you knew would allow access to the sweet spot.

“Ah! Fuuuuck!,” he wailed again.

You demanded, “I asked you a question slut. Whose ass is this? Who else makes you cry like this?”

The blonde sobbed, “You- you, always you! Mm so good I love- ah!” A pull at his cock cut Aegon off with an overwhelmed noise. You cooed, “That’s right. Those King’s Landing girls don’t know how their Prince Aegon really likes it. Like a two-stag flea bottom whore.” Aegon was crying now, squirming on your cock and fist. He drooled and whimpered, violet eyes gazing at you desperately.

Poor thing couldn’t string together a sentence now, brokenly swearing himself to you. The strap was rubbing against your own sex, making you tremble. You sucked in a breath to nudge against his prostate slowly. Your pussy was dripping at this point. There’d be a chance you’d cum before Aegon did. You wanted him to fall apart first though.

Jacking his dick you asked, “You wanna cum now baby boy?”

“Pleasepleaseiloveyouplease,” came the reply.

Using the last of your energy, sweat pouring down your back, Aegon was promptly railed into next week. His violet eyes rolled back up into his head. High pitched moans left his pink lips. The man came onto the towel and your hand, shaking like a leaf. You bit back a whimper and convulsed, cumming from just the sight and the right rub from Blackfyre.

You gasped with wide eyes, crying Aegon’s name breathily. You bruisingly gripped onto his hips through your climax. Gathering your wits you pulled out of him gently. He sniffled and jerked at the movement. You rubbed a soothing hand down his back, cooing.

Quickly discarding the strap you entangled yourself with Aegon. You faced your boyfriend, legs entangled with his own. His glassy violet eyes gazed at you, a tired smile gracing his features. He stole a kiss and pulled your body closer. Aegon rasped, “You, my love, are fucking exquisite. I’m a lucky boy.”

Blushing you snarked, “I bet you say that to all the girls that drill your ass.”

Aegon’s lips pouted as he remarked, “You’re the only one who drills my ass.”

Laughter enveloped the room at the silly conversation. Aegon murmured, “Let’s take a nap. I’m sure dinner will be separate tonight anyways.” You yawned and nodded, feeling the sweet soreness of your body. You whispered, “Love you.” Aegon repeated it back with a kiss on your forehead, a warm hand stroking your hair. You felt blissful— floating in a post orgasmic haze.

Sleep took you easily and tenderly.

Sleep left you rudely and quickly. Your phone was buzzing off the chart. Aegon muttured, “Shut it off- don’ have class today.” You snickered and felt around for the ringing device. Grasping it you checked the caller ID. Your eyes widened drastically.

Papa. Shitshitshitshit.

Your thumb slid across the screen and you answered, “Afternoon papa.”

His gruff response made you wince, “So you tell me you’re going on vacation with a friend, yes?”

You answered, “Yes papa.”

“So why don’t you tell me that you are cavorting around with the drunk Targaryen boy? I get an email from my assistant with you in their family photos. Care to explain my girl?”

You held the phone away and huffed, “Fuck!”

Putting the device back to your ear you responded warily, “I didn’t expect the photos to be released so soon. I was going to call you this morning. I apologize.”

Your father laughed, “No, no, the dragons sent the collection to me personally. Like a threat. This reflects badly on us. What will I say to people asking about my daughter dating a detestable member of the family I call to be disbanded?”

Aegon turned and mumbled, “Wha’re doing?” He groaned while stretching and you slapped a hand over his mouth. The blonde’s eyes opened, staring wildly. You aggressively pointed at the phone, mouthing ‘DAD’. Aegon nodded and stared in horror.

“Papa. I know it seems strange. Aegon is a good man and I like him very much. I always have Dorne’s interests in mind. The princess Rhaenyra and I are having a meeting discussing the welfare of our lands.”

He hummed, “Okay then. I expect a full report back on Rhaenyra. If you like the boy so much I’m expecting a visit to Hellholt. Maybe he’ll learn what real strength is. Enjoy your vacation.”

You sighed, “Yes, papa. We shall visit soon. Love you.“

Awkward silence enveloped the phone before the Dornishman snipped, “Love you. Remember your blood comes first. Bye.”

You shoved a pillow over your face and yelled. Aegon inquired, “The seven hells was that? Your dad?” He peaked under your pillow, smirking softly. You croaked, “He knows about me being here. With you.” Aegon raised a brow as you elaborated, “I didn’t explicitly tell Papa who or where I was vacationing with.”

Aegon’s lips fell into an understanding ‘o’. He deadpanned, “He’s pissed then. My uncle Otto probably sent them to be a dick.” You nodded and shoved your face into Aegon’s warm chest. Mumbling against his skin you added, “Very pissed. He wants to meet you. In Dorne. I avoided catastrophe by mentioning Rhaenyra.”

Aegon stroked your hair, mulling over the situation. He laughed, “I guess I’ll get my sunscreen.” You rolled your eyes.

“Save it for later. I think Dragonstone is growing on me. When the hell is Daeron providing the Pentoshi kush? I need it.”

Next Chapter

#hotd fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #dom reader #house of the dragon #aegon ii x reader #dornish!reader #angst #fluff #hotd smut

188 notes · View notes

relocated-to-new-blog-lmao · 1 year

Text

analisys of the oak-garcia family

cause i think so about them so hard it might give me brain cancer

this is basically just a massive brain dump of all my thoughts on the oak-garcia/oak-swallows-garcia family in vauge essay format. it discusses the basics like how henry’s childhood affected his parenting and how henry’s parenting didnt work for lark and sparrow and how that fucked them up, an then how sparrow being traumatised is fucking up normal

Henry was not raised by a family that celebrated him and his successes. Barry oak was a distant father who preferred to focus on harnessing the “perfection” that his family possessed. Barry believed that he and his son were superior to all others, and was driven to share that, but in this image of perfection henry, and his own, emotions such as anger and fear were a weakness, a failing. The chaos of the doodler within barry as he grew up and his son was something to be ignored in favour of focusing on the power it gave them. However one cannot expect a child to show no signs of anger, so when henry fails to “move through his vinyasa” Barry would become disappointed. Now I’m not sure if it's ever made clear if Barry ever turned any anger on Henry, but it is clear that Barry did not teach Henry how to safely manage this rage. Instead opting to shame his son for having these emotions, and in a first way permanently shaping Henry’s adulthood, making him repress and resent the anger he has, and the chaos of the doodler that is still present in him. Barry would also neglect his son, rarely, if ever, showing pride in his son's achievements. Leading to intense self-esteem issues for Henry, where he believes he is not good enough to handle his own emotions and do anything worth his fathers love.

When Henry becomes a parent, while he may not remember the exact way Barry raised him but the shapes of his childhood are still deeply ingrained within him, so he makes a promise to not raise his sons the way he was. This leads to a permissive parenting style. This, while beneficial for the development of Lark and Sparrow’s self-esteem allowed them to get away with extremely dangerous behaviour, such as setting a room of their school on fire and beating up a tree. He raises his “two beautiful boys” to believe that they are “the ultimate expression of childhood and perfection.” And before going to the Forgotten Realms this ‘you can do anything’ mindset would have been relatively harmless and the twin's power-hungry behaviour can be chalked up to the chaotic whims of two 12-year-old boys. However, this is a world of magic and mystery and all those fantastical things. So when Henry finds that Lark and Sparrow’s disregard for their fellow man's well-being in favour of power and fun, bears much larger consequences than just a few messed up trees, he is forced to become stricter and work harder to teach his boys the importance of loving everyone. He attempts to show his sons the importance of being a “love wolf” instead of a “power wolf” an idea that Sparrow takes well to but Lark does not understand. This change would be right but if it did not happen at the wrong time, in a dangerous world where people need to be violent in order to survive. Henry’s shift in parenting is what starts the rift between him and Lark, and places the first bit of pressure on Sparrow to be the mediator between the two.

For the first assumed 12 years of their life, Lark and Sparrow were raised believing that “anything they wish to do, as long as to do” he can. A mindset that is never challenged as Lark and Sparrow are not shown to have suffered any true consequences for their actions, such as failure at a task. Any consequence that Henry gave out is shown to be riddled with excuses for their behaviour. It can be inferred that Henry has allowed the boys to participate in any activity they wished so long as it didn't lead to Lark or Sparrow becoming gravely injured. This is seen in how Henry’s parenting gives the twins the freedom from consequences to “burn down” and celebrate the “[burning] of their first school,” which is met with a light chuckle and dismission of the severity of that, However, it did not allow Lark or Sparrow to put themselves in danger so they could “jump off a really tall cliff” in Bermuda. This missing understanding of how their actions can lead to them being harmed means that they are genuinely convinced that they can “summon an eldritch god and kill it.” Indeed even after Lark and Sparrow tried to mass sacrifice the city of Neverwinter, Henry did not give the boys any consequences, grounding Lark and Sparrow for a few seconds before lifting it because he was “so happy to see [them] both.” His promise to have a “talk about it later” was unable to be fulfilled since the Omega Daddies took the twins, but considering the patterns displayed by both Henry and his sons it is reasonable to conclude that the discussion would not have been effective in changing Lark’s point of veiw.

As Lark was not present for the “love wolf” conversation between Henry and Sparrow, the shift in Sparrows behaviour as well as Henry’s development as a more authoritative parent somewhat isolated him while they were in the Forgoten Realms. Lark’s obsession with power was not curbed, despite Sparrow’s attempts to teach him to be a love wolf, and in the forgotten realm became a survival tool. After the events in Oakvale Henry promises to be “tougher” on both Lark and Sparrow, leading to him taking away the gauntlets of oger power and leaving the boys unable to defend and prevent Walter the Immoral from having his legs cut off. While this does not heavily impact Sparrow’s relationship with Henry, this causes irrepribale damage to henry’s relationship with Lark as he did not transform into a “love wolf” at Neverwinter. This divide in opinion between the twins as Sparrow attempts to be the mediator in the family, likely caused a small amount of resentment to form between them. As Lark did not feel supported in his desire for power, and the rage he harbours against a world that keeps hurting him and his brother. This resentment of his father, for leaving him and his twin defenceless, and for going back on 12 years of established family dynamic in an unforgiving and unfamiliar world, is the driving force behind Lark stabbing his father in the back, and releasing the Doodler. Consequently, Lark would carry the guilt of this action for the rest of his life, and would be permanently shaped by the world he created.

Conversely, Sparrow became a “love wolf” at Neverwinter, and was thrust into the role as mediator between Henry and Lark. he “love wolf” ideology is ineffective at truly keeping Sparrow from being chaotic and violent, as he believes that love is “true strength” so the desire to be a love wolf does not come from just compassion for people, but ultimately Sparrow’s want for power. However, since he in now more amicable to Henry’s discipline he becomes neglected by his father in favour of teaching Lark to be a love wolf and fixing their relationship. Sparrow is still loves his brother however, and becomes an accomplice in the freeing of the Doodler. Like Lark this leaves Sparrow with intense guilt, something that Henry fails to respond to in a way that either of them would have liked. Henry keeps “forgiving” them for freeing the Doodler, so as Lark and Sparrow enter adulthood they begin to blame Henry for what has happened. But Sparrow is the “love wolf” so despite resenting his father he cant help but love him, and wish for his family to be happy and normal. Because, while Lark had anger; at himself, his father and the Doodler to turn to, Sparrow could not be angry he could only wish for things to be different. Sparrow’s marriage to Rebecca is the first action Sparrow takes to make his life easy. Rebbeca is the heir to a popular vegan ice cream company, and centrist. An inoffencive political stance, which invites no potential of being viewed as different since it sits in the middle, agreeing with everything. A stance the Sparrow likely recognised within himself as the middl point for Lark and Henry, but likely also provided Sparrow security against conflict. Something which would prove invaluable, as his relationship with Rebecca becomes strained after her affair with Lark. But not wanting to disrupt a status quo, Sparrow stays with her and they processed to raise two children. Two children who Sparrow will project his desperation for normalcy onto.

Normal Oak bares the brunt of his father’s neuroticism, as the perky, peppy, chipper, cheery school spirit mascot kid is “too weird,” and Sparrow is afraid that means Normal will “never be happy.” Sparrow’s motivations surrounding wanting his son to be normal is made clear from the very name he gave his son, as well as in the first episode. While dropping Normal off at detentions he tries to convince his son to take off the mascot costume, and makes thinly veiled comments about Normal not having any friends, something that Normal fails to infer as comments about how he acts meaning he has no friends. Normal is a kindhearted character, who sees the best in everyone. Something that Sparrow sees as a vulnerability because “the world is mean.” Sparrow does truly love his son, but this love becomes muddled with his own personal agendas and fears. Not wanting Normal to get hurt, or not have a “normal childhood” he becomes “worried” for his son and the way that he’s acting. And as Sparrow fails to see how much Normal loves his life, despite being “weird” he is the first person to truly hurt Normal. With what he tells Normal at the dance sending his son into a intense identity crisis, and starting if not bringing to the forefront of his mind his belief that he is abnormal and cannot like himself until “everybody likes [him].” This parallels how Henry raised Lark and Sparrow. As through Henry’s insistence on loving his boys the way they are and barely pushing them to change is what causes them to be hurt the worst. Sparrow’s inability to accept his son as he is, and constant pushing for Normal to change himself is the first thing that truly hurts his son.

#almost 2000 words later #i have so many more thoughts about them #but theyll get their own post #also this is not slander #these character are incredibly complex #i just decided to focus on their failings cause its more fun #dungeons and daddies #dndads #henry oak #sparrow oak #lark oak #normal oak #barry oak #i guess i really dont want to tag him

20 notes · View notes

cascadianights · 28 days

Text

I didn't see you for nearly 5 years and when I did we talked for hours and hours and it was so easy and my hands shook and I thought I'd have been filled with anger and instead there was just "I love you"

We hung out all the time and then you pulled back

So I stopped taking your 3am calls, even though they didn't. I stopped coming over most weeks and I took my distance.

But even at arms length, we hang out and spend all night talking until 7am and then I try to fall asleep in your bed and I can't because my head is buzzing

You took me out to the preserve you spend hours upon hours at, and showed me the view you stare at over the valley for hours. We shot arrows and walked among the camas while you told me about the projects the kids in your care are accomplishing, and we laid in the early spring sunlight together and laughed and laughed

And when we spend time together you hum or sing in every spare moment, and the smile never leaves my face and you insist on staying up even when you're falling asleep next to me and

It fills my chest it fills my head it bursts out of my throat and my fingers

I love you, I love you, I love you

I look out over the valley and I take pictures of the mushrooms while you point out the hazel stalks and oak trees scarred by ancient fires

I look out over the flooded fields and savor the sweetness of blackberries while the scratches on my hands still sting from retrieving them

I remember looking out over the canyons alone

I remember calling you family

You're the first person I still want to share news or a joke with

It kills me because

I love you

Fuck

#to come back to #writing #love

2 notes · View notes

queenoffishingandcookies · 1 month

Text

WIP Snippet: Oracle’s Light

Prologue:

The world was ablaze.

In every direction, as far as the eye could see, no matter which way a person turned their head, the flames were crying out in ravenous hunger and consumed everything in their paths. The fire surged ever onwards, relentless in its pursuit of fuel to burn, no matter what - or who - it was.

It could almost be called beautiful.

Where he stood in the clearing of one the well-traveled, well-loved forests, the crevices and ridges of the bark-covered tree trunks were illuminated in shades of amber-tinged gold and crimson, the flames hollowing out its insides to save the beautiful dark facade as its last, perfect, bite of the wooded dish already half-devoured.

The branches became flaming, waving arms outstretched for the heavens as though pleading for salvation - the leaves forming petals of a dying flaming flower withering away, burning into embers before they struck the ground. Hanging vines became necklaces beaded with live fire, as though they were strands of white gold and rubies.

The ground beneath his feet was still soft from the early morning’s rain, but it was no longer wet. The smoldering embers scattered over the grass, carried by the now arid, smoky winds, and began to burn once more. Flecks of white, of golden red light, began eating through the delicate blades, encroaching ever closer. They struck at his clothes, at his bare skin and even as he batted them off him, more flew in his direction.

The heat, the burning sensation they left behind on his body, was inescapable. He’d never forget them, not even on his dying day.

The scenery was accompanied by a live symphony of its own making. The loud, grating screech of metal plating grinding against edges of another, the spluttering roar of engines impossibly far over his head. The screaming of machinery - paired with a not dissimilar sound, one that came from the people, so many people.

His people.

It was a tableau of living death and - in some ways - it became all the more terribly, horrifyingly beautiful for it.

The scent the air carried was cloying, outright choking - and grew steadily worse by the second.

As the fragrant oaks burned from inside out, the rich smell of them grew harsh and sharp, nothing like the once comforting scent that drifted from the manor’s fireplaces in winter or the bonfires set to appease the angered Infernian, the ancient Pyreburner, to honor the flame of the sun that brought about the harvest of crops. It went uncontrolled, it brought harm.

It was tangling with heated iron - the scent of spilled blood.

Blood that coated his face even now, speckled across the once-white fabric of his clothes smudged gray with falling ash. He could taste it on his cracked lips. His throat was swollen up, so tight he could barely get what fresh air that remained down into his lungs. His eyes were blown wide, fixated on canvas of white and blue fabric sprawled out on the ground, long flaxen-colored hair splayed out, only just a few feet away -

The dark, crimson pool that began to spread across the fabric and beneath the prone figure it cloaked. The shadow of someone else, on the ground, metal armor surrounding them and pinning into the damp dirt and mud as they writhed and tried to reach him.

The sound of that terrible scream still ringing in his ears.

Besides him, there was the sound of sobbing. Loud, relentless tears that stole the breath from a person’s chest and allowed no reprieve for them to recollect it. A terrified hand, squeezing at his own, the both of them wheezing and unable to flee - her, especially.

The descent upon them both of a blade’s gleaming edge, still soaked in the blood of its first victim. Cold, emotionless, merciless words echoing around and around his head.

The reflection of a little girl in the blade, smaller and younger than even him, who was the baby of the family, black hair falling over her face as she tried to push him away from her -

Away from danger.

The blade continued to plummet at fearsome speed, no hesitation behind the hand that held it, the tip of its point endeavoring to find its home buried deep through one - if not both - of their hearts.

He lunged in front of the girl - his friend - and did his best to square his shoulders, to shelter her from view. It would be a useless effort in the end, he knew it was - both of them too small, too young to even hope to have the strength to protect themselves…

The blade fell.

And Lunafreya’s world exploded in brilliant shades of translucent crystal-clear blue light.

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #rule 63 #genderbent #Deliverance From Darkness Blight AU #lunafreya nox fleuret #male lunafreya nox fleuret

2 notes · View notes

kittyt-hexxed · 1 year

Text

Grayson's True Prodigy (Sevika x POC!Reader) - Ch.9

Masterlist

Next Upload Date: February 20th

Act 1: Chapter Nine - A New Beginning

Warnings: Funeral, Grief, Anger, Running Away, Keeping up appearances, Waking up in hospital, Loss of limb (Sevika), Loss of Eye (Mylo)

Summary: It’s time for Grayson’s funeral, and Sevika wakes up to two new revelations.

You stayed up the night before the funeral double-checking the things you packed. You made sure that things were securely wrapped like your little wooden dragon and sundial compass. Cardin had slipped you a note saying that they would be leaving immediately after the funeral. Knowing the way that the Hiranas travel, they would be taking the private boat back to Ionia that Orum captains. You could slip away during the chaos of the midday rush and no one would know any better.

A few hours before dawn, you light a dozen candles and start to get ready for the funeral. You take a seat at your desk and delicately braid your hair before wrapping it up into a bun. You pick up your staff in its hairpin form and use it to keep your hair up. You take a moment to stare at yourself in the mirror. The earrings in your ears glitter happily as you put all of them in. ‘If it wasn’t for the hair, no one would be able to tell that I belong to the Kiramman Clan. I wonder how I would look with my natural hair.’ You think before taking down your robes.

Your robes for the occasion are white with red oak leaves as decoration around the hemlines. You can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes as you observe it. ‘Mama loved the red oaks that surrounded the monastery. That’s why red was her favorite color.’ You smile sadly and slip into the robe. The sash was a beautiful red and white ombré that brought the whole thing together. Your heart aches as you wish that she could see you in this. ‘I need to control my emotions today or I’ll ruin the funeral. Water won’t help with the fire.’

With how slow you went, by the time you finished getting ready, it was time to leave. You smooth out your robes one last time and nod in approval. ‘Not a single hair is out of place and my sash is tied perfectly. It only took me ten tries to learn how to do it.’

“Y/n!” Grayson laughs as she struggles to tie your sash around your waist, “Y/n, hold still!” You giggle and continue to move around so she can’t tie it.

“You’re the one who said I tied it wrong, so you have to struggle to fix it!” You joke and she lightly flicks your nose. You yelp and stop moving as a result, giving her the moment she needs to tie it. You pout as she grins in victory.

You weren’t looking forward to being in front of so many people, but you wouldn’t let that hold you back.

“Miss Kiramman?” A knock sounds at your door, “There is a young gentleman outside who says that he’s here to escort you to the funeral.” You shake your head fondly and open the door. The family butler, who you still haven’t learned the name of, motions to the hallway.

“Thank you, I’ll be down in a moment. Have my parents left for the funeral yet?” You question him.

“No, miss. They will not be departing for another thirty minutes. Would you like for me to inform them that you’ve left earlier?” Your butler tilts his head.

“Yes, thank you.” You nod before stepping back into your room. You wait for a few minutes to pass by before grabbing your bag, tossing it over your shoulder, and taking a deep breath. You give one last look around your room and nod to yourself. ‘Everything is neatly put away and my note is somewhere noticeable. Once they come looking for me, they’ll think that I’ve taken a ship to Demacia. No one here will know where I’ve gone.’ You head out of the room and carefully make your way to the front door. You knew the best direction to go to avoid being seen by any staff. It would be questionable if they saw you with your travel bag.

With one last glance around, you open the front doors and slip out. Cardin smirks when he sees you and holds out a hand for the bag. You toss it at him and start heading for the gate without hesitation. Once you’re through, you wink at Cardin and he vanishes in the direction of the docks. You spend some time thinking about the past few days as you walk by yourself. Your mother really showed her true colors when she came knocking on your door.

“Y/n, this is ridiculous! You will come down to the dining room for your meals. I understand that this is a tough time for the family but you must come down. It’s not polite or ladylike to refuse to come out of your room.” Your mother scolds you, “Your sister has shown up for her meals. Do you want her to eat alone?” The bitterness that curled in your chest made you laugh sardonically into your pillow. ‘For the family. Caitlyn. Nothing is ever about me. I can’t even grieve without being ridiculed.’

“May I offer you my sword as a companion?” Cardin inquires as he comes up beside you. ‘Ionians are raised differently.’ You chuckle to yourself. You appreciate the sentiment of his words. It was his way of asking if you’d like to be vulnerable with him.

“I would like that.” You playfully bump shoulders with him.

“The Great Gray Lion was a fierce warrior. Her presence will be missed by hundreds.” Cardin comforts you.

“A hundred cannot compare to the grief in my heart, Cardin.” You say softly, “Mama was more than the stories tell of her, and I will make sure that she is entombed in history.”

You turn onto the street the cemetery is connected to and pause at the large crowd of people waiting outside. A squad of Enforcers was keeping people held back as the workers walked in and out of the gates. ‘The public knows that my sister and I were always around her. They’ll swarm me if I’m not careful.’ Cardin nudges you and holds his arm out as his hand rests on the hilt of his sword. You suddenly realize why Cardin was sent to escort you here and you sigh in relief. You grip his arm and let him take the lead so you were slightly covered by his figure. ‘It’ll be like this all morning until I’m safely on the boat to Ionia. People will try to come up to me and talk or reporters will try to get some kind of inside story.’

As you get closer to the cemetery, the crowd of people notices you approaching and you nervously step closer to Cardin, “Be prepared.” You whisper to him.

“I’m insulted you think I’m not already, Miss Hirana.” Cardin playfully drawls quietly. You giggle at his words and take a deep breath. ‘Head up, shoulders back, stand tall, and don’t let them know how nervous you actually are.’ You remind yourself of your speech lessons.

“Miss Kiramman!”

“Miss Kiramman, can we have a word with you?!”

“Who’s that young man with you?!”

“Miss Kiramman, what are you wearing?!”

“Miss Kiramman!”

“Miss Kiramman, where’s your family?!” They call out to you over and over again as you’re hurriedly guided into the cemetery. Enforcers rush to the blockade to hold the crowd back and they close the gates behind you. You let out the breath that you were holding and relax your posture. You lift your head and gaze around the cemetery, feeling your heart clench when you see the area they designated for your mama. The imagery took your breath away and caused tears to well up in your eyes. A wooden pyre had been formed with dozens of flowers decorating the base of it. Your eyes linger on the wrapped body covered up by flowers and you frown. You let go of Cardin’s arm and move closer to the flowers to pour a bit of magic into them. You smile in satisfaction as they brighten up and straighten out. ‘We can’t send mama off with dying flowers.’

“What kind of flowers are they?” Cardin asks.

“Pink hydrangeas, white carnations, and red spider lilies.” You point them out.

“We call them death lilies.” Marcus approaches you, “It’s bad luck to find them at graves.” He says as he stops in front of you.

“Deputy Marcus.” You nod at him, a bit of annoyance rising.

“In Ionia, they’re seen as a blessing. We weave them around the pyres so that the deceased may be guided through the afterlife.” Master Jess informs Marcus, “Don’t you find cultures wonderful?” She places her hand on your shoulder and smiles at you.

“Yes, Master Jess.” You agree with her, “How have preparations been going?”

“Everything is in place, sweet girl.” Master Jess smooths your hair, “Let me get a look at you.” She steps back and you slowly turn around for her.

“You’ve tied your sash properly!” Master Haruli playfully gasps as she throws her arms around you, “Now who would have thought that’s possible?” She jokes. You giggle as she picks you up in a hug.

“Deputy Marcus.” Master Teylin’s voice sounds from behind you, “The rest of the attendees are on their way, if you’d please make sure they can get in safely.” She subtly orders him. Marcus nods with a glance at you before he heads for the gate. You turn and find yourself looking at your grandmothers along with June and Zenita, who are all dressed in white robes. You take a moment to observe them, the way they interact with each other and carry themselves. At first glance, you couldn’t tell that they were grieving until you looked closer. They were all wearing something that symbolized or came from Grayson. Your aunt and uncle come over to you with their arms outstretched. For some reason, this is what makes the tears fall. You hug them and they hold you tightly.

“This is the first time we're meeting as family.” June whispers, “I wish we met before this.”

“June is right, my niece, but I hope you’ll allow for us to bond anyway.” Zenita says, brushing her silver hair over her shoulder.

“I wouldn’t deny you that.” You wipe away your tears, “Especially after…” You trail off and glance at the pyre. You swallow thickly, your good mood quickly turning sour. As if sensing your mood change, June gives you a squeeze.

“You’re to sit with us.” June slowly guides you to a small group of seats to the left of the pyre, “Even if they don’t know you’re real family, you were the closest to her. Let them whisper all they want.” You sit down and take a moment to steady yourself. ‘Remember, control your emotions or it’s going to be a downpour.’ You remind yourself as people are allowed in through the gates. Most people go straight to their seats but some approach the pyre to leave flowers or small gifts. You catch sight of your family but Cardin steps in your line of sight before they can notice you. You give him a questioning glance and he points to the reporters who have come into the cemetery. You frown but nod in understanding. You turn your gaze back to the pyre and stare blankly at it. If you thought too much about what was to come, you’d burst into tears.

You blink and the next thing you know, you’re being yanked out of your chair and pressed against Cardin’s chest. You hear the soft snick of his katana being drawn and shocked exclamations coming from the crowd. You look up at him but his eyes are trained on someone behind you.

“Back away!” Cardin growls coldly, “You’re not to disturb Miss Kiramman.”

“I-I just want to ask her a question!” Comes a very nervous-sounding voice, but it’s not familiar to you. You wanted to see what was going on, but your position didn’t allow you to. ‘Imagine if I had come with my family. I wouldn’t have made it through the gates.’

“She is in mourning, and will not be answering any questions.” Cardin hisses, “Now step back or you’ll learn why I’m her guard for the event.” There’s a tense moment before Cardin releases you from his grasp and you straighten out your robe. You glance around to see the majority of the people looking in your direction, including your family. Cardin sheaths his sword and gives you a concerned look-over.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” Cardin frowns.

“No. Thank you.” You pat him on the shoulder and he nods at you. The bell chimes signaling the start of the ceremony and everyone takes their seats except for Councilor Heimerdinger who takes his position at the front.

“Thank you to everyone who has come to commemorate our beloved Sheriff, Grayson. As a cadet in the Academy, her professors said that she shined brighter than her peers. Grayson completed her projects with a drive of someone who wanted to make a change, and she eventually became that very person.” Councilor Heimerdinger opens the speech, “When she graduated the Academy, all of her professors sent recommendation letters to the then Sheriff… Very quickly, Grayson became known around Piltover as an Enforcer that got things done. She never had a single complaint against her and everyone she interacted with seemed to love her. That reputation only grew the longer she remained in the force and when the Sheriff retired, she was the first candidate they chose for the job… Ever since she swore in, the crime in the isthmus had dropped dramatically. Sheriff Grayson will be missed.” You lean your head against Zenita’s shoulder and she puts her arm around you. You can feel the grief starting to set in and you need the comfort.

“Working under Sheriff Grayson was an honor. She was talked about highly in my years at the Acadamy and I quickly learned that all of it was true. From my first days on the force, she became a huge inspiration to me and other junior Enforcers. She pushed us… to do our best… and encouraged us to remember that the people’s safety relied on us.” Marcus addresses the crowd, “I was there when she- when she died… and the Sheriff never stopped protecting the people. She never stopped being the woman I looked up to.” You hide your face in Zenita’s shoulder as the tears sting your eyes. You feel your Grandmother Haruli’s hand rub your arm before she gives your hand a squeeze. After Marcus, more people went up to give their speeches or share their experiences. Some made you chuckle as they shared funny stories and others made you angry as they lied about their interactions with Grayson. You held your breath when your mother stood up and took the stand. Part of you didn’t want her to say anything, but the other part of you was intrigued by what she was going to say.

“As most of you know, Grayson was a friend of the family. She was there for both of our daughters’ births and would come over quite regularly for events… Grayson was a woman who had strong morals and did what she thought was right for the betterment of others. She took Caitlyn under her wing from a young age and taught her how to shoot while reminding her of the reason Enforcers do their jobs. She was always encouraging the new generation and took the time to answer their questions. Grayson… can never be replaced. Her death is a loss the entire community will mourn for a while.” Your mother speaks out and you have to choke back a laugh through your tears. ‘I wasn’t even mentioned once, even though Grayson trained me, too. That’s my mother for you. She’s the same even at your funeral, mama.’

“And with that…” Your mother clears her throat, “I’d like to welcome Grayson’s family to Piltover. Her mothers, the Masters of Hirana Monastery, and her siblings… June, an Ionian Sundancer, and her sister, Zenita… who is a guardian of one of the country’s sacred sites.” Your mother gestures over to your group and that’s when the whispers start. Grandmother Teylin stands and replaces your mother at the podium.

“Thank you for all of your wonderful stories about our daughter. Our Gray always had a kind heart that she gave to others who needed it. She grew up among monks at the monastery, but she felt more called to go out and protect others than to become one. At the age of fourteen, she left our home to travel the world and came to Piltover to live. Her first words to me about this city were that it has potential, and that’s what she liked about it… When she told my sisters and me about her career choice, we warned her that it would be dangerous.” Grandmother Teylin’s words make laughter bubble up in your throat. You laugh and wipe away your tears as the others laugh with you. You could see some puzzled looks from the attendees who wouldn’t understand why you found it funny.

“Gray had a zest for life that brought a light to our family. She had a special heart and it’s with great joy that she introduced us to a child with a heart just as special as hers.” Grandmother Teylin turns to you and beckons you forward. You blink in shock but she holds her hand out to you and Zenita and Grandmother Haruli nudge you. You stand up and nervously approach her, grabbing her hand and letting her pull you next to her. You look out at the crowd and remind yourself to stand tall. ‘I am here for mama. There is nothing these people can say that’ll affect me.’

“Y/n was brought into our lives six years ago, and it has been the brightest six years of our lives. Gray spoke about her in every letter she sent home, talking about how much she adored her and that Y/n reminded her of why she chose to become the sheriff.” Grandmother Teylin smiles down at you as you look at her in awe, “It’s only right that she gets the closing statement.” Your eyes widen and you feel panic flit through you.

“Grandmother, I haven’t prepared anything!” You whisper to her in a panic.

“Speak from your heart, my granddaughter.” Grandmother Teylin kisses your forehead and steps aside for you. You swallow nervously but approach the microphone anyway. The people in the crowd perk up as you do and you can see the confused faces looking back at you. You were the quiet Kiramman. The one people didn’t hear about because your mother didn’t talk about you. It wasn’t until Grayson took you in that you started to meet people. Some… didn’t even know that your family had two daughters. And while staring out at this crowd of people, you realize that Piltover isn’t your home. It never has been and that made the words come tumbling out.

“Grayson showed me the world.” You say strongly, “She took me with her on sabbatical and taught me more than I ever imagined I could learn. She showed me the place where she grew up and I had the privilege of meeting her family… and learning what she once did.” You present your robes proudly, “I am honored to be able to wear these robes in honor of Grayson. I am touched to hear that she held me in such high regards… because-...” You choke up as the tears start flowing. You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself down enough to speak, “Because she was everything to me and I loved her. I admire her so much. Her strength. Her humility. Her drive to protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves and the kindness she had for everyone… She was a light that was taken too soon, and she will never be forgotten.” You glance at the Hirana family and they stand up to surround the pyre, “So this is where I say to you… Grayson Hirana, our Great Gray Lion, protector, and Shaman! May the spirits welcome you with open arms and you continue to protect us even though you are not with us anymore!” You go to step aside but Grandmother Jess grabs your hand and hands you a match.

“You’re one of us.” Grandmother Jess whispers, “You do this with us.” You smile at her as more tears fall and listen for the count of three before striking your match. You toss the match onto the pyre and step back as the fire comes alive. You stare into the fire before it all hits you and you break down. You fall to your knees and sob as the heat of the fire brushes across your face. ‘You’re gone, mama. Gone. Why do you have to be gone? Why did it have to be you?’

You sat by the pyre for a while before Orum picked you up. All he said to you is that people who were in Grayson’s Will were being called to the Charter Building. You had asked him to put you down, but when he raised an eyebrow at you, you let him carry you the whole way. At the entrance to the building, Orum put you down and you didn’t bother to fix your robes. You made your way inside and you were offered a tissue and some water when you sat down. The doors opened again and your family walked in, making you feel awkward. Caitlyn saw you and immediately came over to give you a hug. You froze before slowly hugging her back as the Hirana family came inside, followed by Marcus and a few other people.

“I’ve been told that everyone is here.” A man comes from the back, “My name is Garrett, and I am Grayson’s Will executioner. First and foremost, everything you will be given is final. You may not try to confiscate anything from another person or demand more. If you do, there is a clause in Grayson’s Will to revoke what you were originally given and it will go to charity… Now, the first people on the Will are her mothers. If you would please follow me to my office.” He says before disappearing down the hallway. Your grandmothers follow him as your aunt and uncle keep a watchful eye on you and Caitlyn. ‘I wonder what mama left for me… I didn’t expect her to leave me anything when I already have so much from her.’

“Your speech was beautiful.” Caitlyn says with a soft smile, “And, you look beautiful in your robes.”

“Thank you.” You respond, “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant.”

“That’s okay. You were closer to her than I was.” Caitlyn rests her hand on your shoulder, “I understand.”

“That… doesn’t mean you weren’t close to her, though. So, don’t discount your own grief.” You remind her, “Grayson loved you, too.”

“Thanks, sis.” Caitlyn whispers and you fall into silence. Your grandmothers come out and your aunt and uncle are called into the back. You sigh and slouch into the couch, not caring about appearances or anything. It wasn’t long before your aunt and uncle came out with Garrett.

“Miss Y/n?” Garrett calls as he looks around the room. You make eye contact with him as you stand and he beckons you down the hallway. You follow him in silence until you’re into the office and he closes the door behind you.

“First, I’d like to offer you my condolences. I’ve been the one in charge of your mother’s Will since she joined the Enforcers, and she has left us too soon.” Garrett sighs as he flips through his files.

“Wait, you know that Grayson is my mother?” You straighten up in surprise.

“Yes and I’m aware of your lineagefasting. While it has been deemed lost to time, there are still clauses for it in our laws… but that’s for another time.” Garrett gives you a smile, “Now, onto what your mother left you… ‘To my daughter, Y/n Hirana, I leave behind my apartment in the Middle Ring so that she may have a place to stay when she’s in need… along with every item that I haven’t marked for donation. I leave her with my travel bag and all of the items I have locked within it. Most importantly, I leave behind the bank account I created for her and everything within it.” He takes out two sets of keys, a card, and Grayson’s travel bag. You hold your breath as you reach out and brush your fingers over it. It was covered in patches from all of the places she visited and as you shakily lift one of the handles you see your name sewed into it.

“All you have to do is sign that you’ve received these items and you’re good to go.” Garrett hands you a pen and slides a document over to you. Your scan the page first to make sure you weren’t signing for anything else. When you were satisfied with what you didn’t find, you sign your name and hand it back to him.

“About the lineagefasting…” You trail off uncertainly.

“Once you choose which name to keep, you can send me a letter and I’ll switch things around for you.” Garrett says kindly.

“Can we do that right now?” You ask.

“Of course!” Garrett chuckles and slides another paper towards you, “Grayson said you might say that, so I had it on hand.” You can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips. You hurriedly fill out the form and stare down at it before nodding in determination.

“Here you go.” You slide it back across the desk before grabbing your items and standing, “Where’s the bathroom if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Down the hall, third door on your right.” Garrett points, “And… despite the circumstances, it was nice to meet you, Miss Hirana.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Garrett.” You nod at him and head to the bathroom. You lock the door behind you and gingerly place the bag on the floor. You look at yourself in the mirror and shake your head. ‘This is now or never, Y/n.’ It only takes you a few seconds to take off your robe and fold it up. You reach into your hoodie pocket and pull out the drawstring bag it came in. You drop them into there along with your keys and card, before slinging it across your back. You let your hair down, tucking it into your hoodie and pulling the hood up. ‘Gotta pin that in place so my hood doesn’t fall.’ You grin at the cat ears you sewed onto the hood before grabbing the travel bag and heading for the window.

‘I don’t think this is why you taught me how to open a window, mama… but this is what I’m using it for.’ You mentally apologize as you pop the window open. You toss your bag out before jumping through and pulling yourself out. You let out a soft grunt as your feet hit the pavement. With a wave of your hand, the window reseals itself and you grin in success.

“Ready to go, Miss Hirana?” Cardin smirks as he kicks off of the wall next to you. He was dressed in casual clothes instead of the robes from earlier.

“Ready.” You grin, pick up your bag and run for the entrance of the alleyway. Cardin laughs and grabs your hand, guiding you down to the docks. You stop running once you’re a good distance from the Charter Building. Your heart is racing from the running but also from what you’re doing. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this! They’re going to be so pissed off!’

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do?” Cardin glances at you as you reach the dock entrance.

“I’m going cliff diving.” You say seriously, “I need a good swim.”

“Can I tag along?” Cardin asks excitedly, “Can I bring the crew?”

“You and your crew are welcome.” You giggle, “But, aren’t you going hunting once you get home?”

“Yes. Yes, he is.” Orum smirks down from on the boat, “Buut, I guess we can hold off for a day.” He winks and holds his hand out. You hand him the travel bag before jumping up and grabbing his hand. Orum pulls you onto the boat and you’re instantly dragged away by Zenita. She takes you into the cabin of the boat as the engine starts up. They wanted to be out on the water before they sent people to look for you.

“She’s here!” Zenita announces and you’re happily greeted by your family.

“I’ve officially left the Kiramman name behind.” You announce, “Once I’m eighteen, all of my records in Piltover will switch over and be adjusted.”

“I’d say welcome to the family, but you’ve been a part of it for a while now.” June grins.

“Now, come here and give your grandmother a hug!” Grandmother Jess playfully demands. With a giggle, you go over to her and give her a hug. You spend some time down in the cabin until you’re told that you’re clear of Piltover. You head out onto the deck and let your hoodie down as you approach the railing. You stare out at the water as an indescribable feeling washes over you. ‘I’ve left, mama. You may not be here, but I left. I’m going home. I’m going to Ionia.’

“How do you feel?” Grandmother Haruli leans against the railing next to you.

“Honestly…” You take a moment to find the word, “Free. I feel free, grandmother.” You say blissfully. ‘Even though mama is gone… I feel free.’

The first thing Sevika noticed when she woke up was the lack of feeling in her left arm. Then it was the quiet voices and soft snorting that had her opening her eyes. The room was dim with the only light coming from the lanterns hanging beside her. Sevika furrows her brow when she feels a weight next to her side. She looks over and sees Powder snuggled up against her, hands protectively holding the hospital gown where her arm should be. ‘Powder?’ Sev reaches out and touches the blue-haired girl’s head to verify she’s not hallucinating.

“Hey, Sev.” Krow’s silky voice has her turning to her right, “It’s nice to see you awake.”

“Bonesaw says there was no way to save your arm. He and the nurses tried to find one but any attempt woulda ended up with the ‘grene.” Ran sighs, running a hand through their hair, “You’re gonna have’ta augment.”

“I’d rather lose my arm than my life.” Sevika rasps. Gangrene wasn’t something she wanted to mess with, “I’m fine with augmenting. That won’t be an issue for me, but how are the kids? I can see one of them.” She motions to Powder.

“Ah, the chipmunk refused to leave your side once she was cleared by the healers. You came outta surgery and she’s been here ever since.” Robin grins, tossing her red braid over her shoulder, “Said you need someone here for you if you woke up before they said you would.”

“And the other two?” Sevika asks, gently stroking Powder’s hair. ‘The kid really stayed with me? She doesn’t even know me that well, yet she cares enough about me to stay?’

“Claggor will make a full recovery. Doc’s impressed. Said he’s got a skull of steel to only get a cracked bone.” Ran shrugs, “Mylo lost his right eye. It got ruptured by some debris, but again, he’s lucky to be alive.”

“Did he choose to augment?”

“Nah.” Krow shakes her head, “Glass eye and fake cover. He didn’t want to deal with the upkeep an augment would require. Doc is gonna give him the option again when he’s eighteen.”

“Okay.” Sevika sighs, “Did they find Violet?”

“…No. We searched the last place her sister saw her, but there… was a lot of blood, Sev. The kid has been marked as missing for now, but people are suspecting she might be dead.”

“That’s a conversation we’re going to have to have with Powder.” Sevika frowns, glancing at the young girl.

“So we’re taking the kids in?” Robin smirks, “You sure about that, boss?”

“I owe it to Vander.” Sevika says sternly, “He took us in, didn’t he? I’d be an asshole if I let his kids live on the streets. They wouldn’t last without Vi.”

“Oh, one more thing before we let the Doc know you’re up.” Ran gives a sly smile, making Sevika raise an eyebrow, “You’ve been chosen as the next leader of Zaun. The vote was unanimous.”

“What was the deciding factor?” Sevika blinks.

“People respect you. And, taking an explosion to the face and living only makes you scarier.”

“I guess it’s up to me to change this shitty place.” Sevika snorts, “Who would’ve thought I’d go from gang leader to Zaun’s Leader.”

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika fanfic #sevika arcane #sevika #grayson arcane #grayson's true prodigy

23 notes · View notes

jymwahuwu · 7 days

Note

Last one was great!

Poor arrogant reader soon will be fired from her position as head of the Family for some fabricated case, she is now basically jobless with all her belongings and money arrested and guards are not letting her leave Penacony.

She is such a mess now, so stresssed out with her career ruined she isnt even noticing that she hadnt got her period for several months.

But who will she come for help, who will accept a mess like her at such low point of her life?🤔

Of course our angelic prick will take her in. Reader doesnt have a choice to be honest. She doesnt have money to pay for shelter, food and medical care for her condition anymore?

I also hc Penacony being really expensive place especially in terms of healthcare. And abortions are strictly prohibited.

Well, clean house, homemade meals and some other nightly services could cover those expences. Our arrogant girlie will have to humble herself a bit.

And kid being born out of wedlock? Not on Sunday's watch!

Imagine some time later her former coworkers, heads of other Families or her former subordinates witnessing reader going out for groceries or just going out for a walk with Sunday holding her hand firmly?

She does not seems like arrogant bitch anymore, her belly is swollen, clothes are modest, matching rings at couple's fingers.

so sorry for the long delay in replying!!

I've been meaning to find the time to write this... and thank you for writing it in such detail. super love the content about arrogant reader get humiliated. this is awesome 😽💗💖 sunday brings it all to you but you started it first, right?

part 1

cw: yandere, dub-con, brainwashing, mind control, housewife kink, pregnancy, inappropriate traditional concepts (language about serving husband and family)

Sunday used to always forgive your arrogance and intrigue, but that's the past.

Since you like this trick so much, Sunday brings these back to you. In this dreamy and fallen city, your reputation is completely destroyed in half an hour. (He was at the party, shaking his glass and socializing with the guests.) Some Bloodhound family guards burst into your office and led you away , in full view of everyone and a lot of chatter. They grabbed your hands and dragged you forward. (He stretched his hands into fists, put them to his lips and chuckled.) It was almost a crime of betrayal to Xipe and The Family. Listen to harsh words and sign documents. (The money ejected from the machine flies into the sky. The scale of the clock is turning.)

These days of interrogation have left you exhausted. One day, you open the door to your home with the usual verification, but there is a notice on the door that it has been sealed and frozen. That was locked and confiscated. A cold stab of fear stabbed your back. There is no way to book a hotel room or rent a new house. Your bank account is also blocked.

The final straw is the realization that you haven't had your period in months. Used the last of your credit points to take a pregnancy test. The result is a baby growing inside you. There was no doubt that it was that wing bastard's baby. A baby destined to have a halo and wings.

Your eyes were sore, and tears welled up in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks.

The eyes of birds these days are staring at you from every height, corner, and alley. Your pregnancy test results are sent to Sunday's phone. His glove patted your back gently. He whispers to you, the aura continuing to send out gentle waves, shushing you. You whimpered, pushing him away in annoyance. "Get away, you bastard!"

"I just did to you what you've always wanted to do to me. Don't make a fuss." The rising corners of the oak leader's mouth only added fuel to his raging anger at you. What happened to him? He's really terrible! You point at him and take a few steps back. "Don't fucking touch me! You hypocrite."

He frowned.

"No swearing."

"What the fuck-" Just like last time, a cheerful and harmonious arrangement of notes penetrated your mind. That ethereal and strange light appears before your eyes and captures your thoughts. You obediently followed Sunday to his mansion.

What Sunday offers you comes at a price. He provided for you, after all, didn't he? You can no longer be so arbitrary, arrogant and rude. You need to pray at the dinner table, kiss him on the cheek, and be grateful to Xipe and the nutritious food he provides you. Or have him pinch your cheeks and feed you. Now that you have no job and no money, you should have time to sweep the floor, right? Keeping the house tidy is important. He checked the dust on the vase and scanned the floor. Of course don’t forget to suck his cock and spread your legs at night. He will be very, very careful. (Sex during pregnancy is always slow. You whimper when milk is secreted from your buds.)

And witnessing that humiliation! Yes, in the past, you and he competed in the workplace, and the atmosphere was tense. Everyone knows you hate Sunday. And now other family members can see the changes in you. You held his hand tightly, intertwining your fingers with your belly swollen. Those luxurious clothes of the past have disappeared, replaced by your simple, loose skirts.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail x you #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #honkai x reader

260 notes · View notes

mushroomowlchemist · 2 months

Text

Another Welcome

“A shattered castle deep in the woods is an excellent place for a Diviner to ply their trade.”

“What are you doing?” Isabella asked. “We only came in here because you wanted to look around, and now you're sitting on the floor with your eyes closed.”

“Answering your questions before you ask them.” Asar replied. “This place is old. Older than I realized when we first saw it in the distance. My eyes are closed because I am focused on seeing what happened here.”

Isabella crossed her arms. “I know you're a prophet and all, but can we get moving? This place isn't stable, dude.”

Asar sat unmoving, causing Isabella to groan. “Fine.” She said after a prolonged silence. “You magic people are always weird. Are you going to share or is this a super secret prophet moment I'm not supposed to interrupt.”

Asar opened one of his eyes, peering at Isabella. “We’re the same age. How'd I get to be so patient and you so testy?” Isabella's stare in return made it clear he didn't want the answer to that question. “I'll share, but only if you let me take in the ubeity of this place, alone, afterward.”

“If that's what you want dude, go ahead.” Isabella replied.

“Alright then.” Asar said. “It began long ago, as history often does. This castle was built as a bulwark on the edge of an ancient ruler’s kingdom. Soon, a town sprang up to house the families of the soldiers who manned the castle. Then, commerce expanded it, taking advantage of the natural resources surrounding this place.”

“The merchant guild soon surpassed protection as the purpose of the town. Those who live on the frontier know that the most effective method is the method used, and by this measure competition became cutthroat. Mercantile families took over the castle and lived like the lords of their own little fiefdom. Until their time came.”

A knock sounded on the great oak door of the castle. A child stood awaiting the reply, which came from the mouth of a soldier. “Let none in. Begone, back into the night.”

“Sir, I'm starving.” The child cried. “I can hear the feast that is happening within. Please sir, ask your lord for some food for me.”

The soldier, with a heart not made of stone, was moved and did as the child asked.

“My word is final.” The Lord said. “Tell them to begone, back into the night as I have commanded.”

Disheartened, the soldier returned to the wall and informed the child he could not help. Dejected, the child left the wall of the castle.

The next night the child returned. Again, he cried out to the soldier standing at the top of the wall for food. Again, the soldier interrupted his lord’s feast to plead for the child, and again he was rebuffed.

The following night the child returned once more. Knowing his lord was not one of great patience, the soldier tossed the child what little of his ration he had. As they left, the child called out a blessing to the soldier.

When the soldier next stood on guard, the child once again returned. This time, his plea was far different.

“Bring your lord to me.”

The tone of the child's voice deeply frightened the soldier, for it was different by many measures to the voice he had heard the nights before. He hurried to interrupt the feast again, and brought the lord as the child had demanded.

“You, child.” The lord called down. “You have interrupted me thrice. For this I sentence you to a year's labor.”

“You will never live to see such a sentence carried out, lord.” The child replied.

“Insolence.” The lord said, shaking with anger. He turned to command the men on the wall. “Fire your arrows upon this child, end their annoyance.”

All but one fired, yet none would land. The child raised their hand and swept it downward as the arrows fell. Like a great wind, every bolt was knocked from the sky and plummeted, shattering on the stone below.

With each arrow that failed, a man's life ended, until only the soldier and the lord remained on the wall. When they peered over the edge to see what had happened the child was gone. In their place stood a man, a look of fury in his eyes.

“I am Stravaig! God of Welcomes, and you have forsaken me! Let your name be lost with this castle, forgotten. Begone, back into the night as I have commanded!”

Asar opened his eyes, finished with the story. “That's all my divination shows me.”

“That's it?!” Isabella asked “What about the soldier? Did the God of Welcomes spare him?”

“Who knows?” Asar replied. “Now can I please have some peace and quiet? There are other things to see here for someone with my skill set.”

Isabella rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Tell me when you want to leave. I think I'll go make some lunch.” As she left, she turned the story over in her mind, faintly reminded of a fairytale from her youth. “Did he make all that up?” She asked herself.

With Isabella out of the room, Asar was free to expand his mind, reaching out along the leylines to search other histories and other places. But he made special note of this one. “Another story of welcomes. Bless me Stravaig, that I may welcome others as they failed to.”

#stravaig theoxenia #theo #my writing #fairy tail #sort of I guess #my ocs #hunt for the snoodle bros

2 notes · View notes

asumofwords · 1 year

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

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

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: The reader really needed to let all of that anger out, and all those unsaid words and thoughts and gosh we are thankful for it. In times of war comes times of trouble... and desperation...

Chapter 46: Burdens of the realm

You spent the rest of that day in your chambers. Refusing entry to anyone except your maids who brought up your bath and steaming hot water, which you sank into slowly.

Their soft hands had brushed through your hair, pulling away the knots as you bathed, and washing the ash and smoke from your long tendrils.

The bathwater turned a deep sooty colour by the end of their careful washing, and they had left your chambers to bring up new water to rinse you with.

Saria brushed scented oils into your hair before braiding it into a single, long braid down your back for you to sleep in. You had spent considerable time in the bath pulling the ash from beneath your fingernails, the dark soot encrusted in the lines of your palms.

By the time you were out of your bath, and dressed for bed, the sun had been set for many hours and a dark glow had settled in your chambers. You sat on your chaise, staring into the fireplace, watching the flames dance as you let your anger simmer inside of you.

The flames flickered and waved.

Even after all you had done, it would never be enough.

It would never be enough that you had done more than your male peers, because you were a woman. It could never be enough for the realm to be you. You were not a son.

You would never be a son.

You could not completely fault your mother to this. Change does not happen immediately, it will take time, but time is something you were short of. You hoped that during your mothers rein that she could change things.

If not for you, for others to come.

As you stared at the flames, a knock was heard on the thick wooden doors.

You turned your head to look at the carved wood, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, and deciding to ignore the unwanted guest.

A moment passed, and you turned your attention back to the flames again.

Another knock.

You breathed heavily out of your nose, before pushing yourself to stand, ignoring the twinge in your side as you walked to the chamber doors. The grain of the wood crawled the same way, its dark oak smoothed by a steady hand.

The oak echoed with the thud of three soft taps.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

You stared at the entrance as your fingers moved to touch the handle of the door, fingers curling around the cold steel. You took a breath, and pulled the handle towards you, opening it up to allow for a gap in the door to look at your visitor.

Rhaenyra stood behind the door, hands clutched together at her front as she looked at your through the gap.

Her eyes looked sad.

“Can I come in?” Her voice was soft.

Maternal.

You said nothing as you looked her over.

“Please.” She asked again.

You sighed, pulling the door wider, allowing for the Queen to enter your chambers. The door was shut behind her as you stood waiting. If she was to talk, she would need to begin. You had said all that you needed to.

She watched you, eyes scanning your face.

“Could we sit?”

She was trying.

You gave her a soft nod, before following her back in front of the fire, to sit by the chaise. She sat first, looking up at you as you hesitated, before slowly sitting beside her. Your thighs touching hers.

You loved her more than you could express. But it hurt.

Her head tilted as she watched you, her expression mournful. It reminded you so much of Lucerys. There was just so much of her in him.

She breathed deeply in thought, hands fidgeting in her lap as she thought of what to say. Then as sudden as that meekness came, the power came forward. Her hand came to grab yours, pulling it into her lap.

Physical touch was important to show her affection. You couldn’t remember a single time as a child where she had shown you love without holding you.

“I have thought all night of how to talk to you, but I find I am lost for words.”

You looked down into your lap.

Why did you feel guilty?

Mothers had that sort of power.

“I have watched you grow into such a fierce strong woman…” She paused.

You waited for her next words. For the but that felt like it was coming, for the other shoe to drop. For her to tell you how she resented you. How you were a disappointment, how your actions had changed you forever in her eyes.

“And I could not be more proud.”

You head snapped to look at her.

You were shocked. This was not what you had expected.

“You are everything that I could have hoped for, and more. Unfathomably kind, smart, courageous. Your love and devotion to your family is your biggest strength, and also your weakness.”

There was the other shoe.

You looked back down, and she squeezed your hand tighter.

“If the realm was different, if this was different, you would be my heir. How could you not be? But the realm is cruel, and unkind to women. They believe us to be better fitted for bed chambers, as decor to the men who hold us on their arms." She paused to breath, her fingers stroking yours in her hand.

"In saying this, I know it is not fair to you. We women are built up, only to be pushed back down, no matter if you are of noble birth or common. Rhaenys had tried to warn me once, when I was younger and I didn't listen.”

You straightened your back.It felt like rubbing salt in the wound.

“I tell you this now, because I had planned to name you my successor. I had plans for you to rule after I did. That is why I prepared you. It was not all for naut, for me to just pull the rug from beneath your feet unkindly. But then... Viserys died…” Her thumb rubbed against your hand and you felt her gaze fall away from you.

As you looked up, your mother was staring at the fire, watching the flames in the same manor as you had.

“And Aegon was crowned King. The realm was divided before, but now I fear, more than ever, that there may be no winning this war. Even if I sit upon the throne, there will be those who do not accept it. There will be those who conspired with the Greens to place my brother on the Iron Throne, so that a woman would not. To name you successor, would be to put an even larger target on our backs. On yours.”

Rhaenyra’s side profile glowed from the warm light of the fire. Her brow was furrowed as she watched the flames. You looked down at your hands, where her thumb had ceased its comforting stroke.

It was your turn to comfort her.

You reached your other hand to hold hers, pulling it into your lap as you looked down, not raising your eyes even as you felt her gaze come back to you.

The warmth from her hands settled you.

“I know that you are angry. I know that you are bitter. And you are right to feel this. I felt it the day Rhaenys came to tell us Aegon had usurped the throne. I felt it the day Otto came to give us Aegon’s terms. I know that there isn’t anything that I can say to make this better. To make you not resent me, or your brother, but please know it was not because you aren’t fit to wear the crown.”

The ring on Rhaenyras hand glinted in the flames as she spoke to you, your finger coming to fiddle with the gold.

Anything, but look up at your mother.

“What you did at Riverrun…” She sighed, and you waited. “Was reckless. You could have died, and I had feared I had lost you again… I worry about you… About this… anger you have.”

“Fear is the strongest ally of all.” You murmured.

“I suppose it is.”

“They should fear you. Us.”

“They will.”

"I do this for you. And if not for you, then for them. For Visenya. For Lucerys. For Syndor.”

“You are far too young to know such loss.”

“This is war.”

“Ñuha dōna riña.” (My sweet girl.) She cooed, before pulling your face to her lips, letting them brush against your temple gently, as she placed three kisses there, as she always did.

Like how she always did for Luc.

“I want to fight.” You whispered beneath her.

“Y/n.”

“Please. I cannot bear to sit in these chambers and do nothing. Let me fulfil my duties, if not as your heir, then as your daughter. To the crown. To you.”

You watched her eyes as she thought.

Those light purple irises glowing in the low light of the room. She held so much beauty. It oozed from her pores, from the way she held herself. From the way she just was.

Both of your mothers hands came to frame your face, holding you to look at her before she nodded.

“I suppose I cannot stop you, even if I tried.”

A smirk pulled on your lips.

"Give me your word." You demanded softly.

The Queen looked at you unsure.

"Give me your word," You repeated, "That you will let me fight. That you will let me fulfil my duties to ensure your ascension to the Iron Throne. No matter the cost."

Rhaenyra continued to watch you, not answering, eyes full of thought.

"I swear to you, that I will consult you before I act. As my Queen, and as my mother." You assure her.

The silence in the room was heavy as you waited for her to give you her answer. For her to swear to let you fight. To be a true Targaryen Princess. To give your all to her cause and help win back the throne.

"I give you my word." She breathed, and you let yourself relax into her.

It was done.

She pulled you to lean against her shoulder, as you sat in silence, letting the days tension burn away with the fire.

“Is Jacaerys alright?”

“He is fine. Only worried about you.”

You hummed.

“He loves you. More than you know.”

You both sat in silence for some time, held tightly against your mothers side as she brushed a gentle hand up and down your arm, soothing you. There was not much more you could say to each other, but now there was more of an understanding.

As you felt your eyes begin to grow tired, and slowly drift shut, Rhaenyra gently pulled you up and led you to bed. She tucked you underneath your covers before leaving a soft kiss on your forehead, her lips lingering gently against your skin, then leaving you to fall asleep.

When you woke the next morning, you built up your courage to go and apologise to Jacaerys in his chambers. You had your hair brushed out of its braid, and into a new style, the oil from the night before making your hair smooth and soft to the touch.

You dressed in all black and at your breakfast slowly, delaying the inevitable.

As you picked at the bread on your table, your door opened, and Jacaerys walked into your chambers, without announcing himself.

“I knew you would be avoiding me, so I came to talk.”

You swallowed the mouthful of crust that sat on your tongue.

“I’m not avoiding you. I had plans to come to you.”

The young prince pulled the chair beside you out and away from the table, before sitting into it heavily, leaning back as he looked at you expectantly. He wore a deep red tunic today, with dark silver buttons lacing him up. His brown hair brushed neatly atop his head.

You rubbed at an eye, as you inhaled deeply, ready to begin your disgruntled apology to your brother.

“I forgive you.”

You cocked your head to the side, brows furrowing.

“I have not apologised?”

“You were about to. Whenever you have to say sorry, your lips pull into a grimace like it pains you to do it.”

You frowned.

“To win this war, we can’t fight amongst each other. If we stand divided, the faster we fall. I know that what you said came from a place of hurt, and anger. And you were right. What would I know of sacrifice?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off with a hand raising into the air.

It reminded you of a King.

“Let me finish. You did enough speaking yesterday and now it’s my turn. I will never truly know what it is like for you, or mother, or Rhaenys. I will never know what it is like to be a woman and to have the men of the realm look at you as nothing of consequence. I will never understand the burdens that are placed on your shoulders from birth, nor will I ever begin to understand the ones that you will carry until death. But you can help me understand. Tell me before you get to your breaking point. Do not hold it all in.”

You reached forward to full more bread off of your plate, rolling the soft flesh into a ball before placing it into your mouth to chew. You leant back in your chair watching your brother, waiting for him to continue.

“I was expecting an argument.” He commented.

“None so far. Continue.”

It was like he was apologising to you.

“I had told you before in the Throne Room back in the Red Keep that you deserved the throne, not me. And I meant that. But that is not the way of the world, as much as we both wish different. Hope is a fools ally, and-“

“Don’t quote the Lords now.”

“I don’t wish to see you broken. What you did was stupid. I will not apologise for that. You could have died. You could have cost us the war. You could have given them the upper hand, by having you again. But you didn’t, and so you afforded us a win amongst a sea of losses.”

You watched as Jacaerys leant both elbows onto the table, hands coming to grasp his own on the table in front as he looked at you.

“You are my sister, and I am loyal to you. I will do whatever is in my power to protect you. But I will not fight with you about the succession of the throne. I refuse to. It is a mute point. And something that neither I, nor you, can change. If we are to win this war, we need to do so together.”

“You sound like you’ve spoken to mother.” You smiled shyly.

“I may have. And I hold no shame for it. She is wise, wiser than she lets on.”

“She is.”

“I love you, y/n. And I cannot even imagine what you have endured for all of us. I cannot imagine what you have kept from us in order to protect us. Much like mother. But you can’t keep this going on. You can’t keep sacrificing yourself for others. I know you have that fire inside of you, but one day it will burn you up, and everyone else in its path.”

“Now you do sound like mother.”

“I mean it. You get this look in your eye, it frightens me. And the way you razed that army to the ground like it was nothing? We got word today that there were no survivors. Not a single tent left unburnt, bodies torn and mangled…I do not wish to see my sister become another Maegor.”

“It would be what they deserve.”

“Even still. It comes at a cost. Yourself. And I- we, cannot afford to lose you.”

You nodded, as he watched you. His soft brown eyes watched you before cocking his head to the side lazily, leaning back in his chair to bring his arms to cross in front of him.

“I’m sorry," Your hand came to grab his as you let out the two words,

“I will do better. But I will not sit back and do nothing. I will fight in this war, and you cannot stop me. I will do what is needed, whatever it is, to give us the upper hand. To give us time. To win. I will not allow us to endure any more loss. I will do what I have to, to ensure mothers claim, whatever the cost.”

Jace held your hand as he looked at you, brows furrowed.

“I know you will... And that's what worries me.”

You let out a gentle laugh and went to place more bread in your mouth, watching him observe you with a certain unease.

“I won’t break.”

Jacaerys eyes do not leave yours.

The chambers are quiet, and in that moment you realise the depth of the silence.

His eyes were so much darker than you remember Ser Harwin's being. They had this deep, brown to them, gold flecked around the edges, so that when his pupils were wide, his eyes looked completely, and utterly black.

As you stared at each other, the stillness blanketing the room, neither of you responding, it was then, in that moment that you realised what Jacaerys was saying.

He thought you had already broken.

That was what scared him.

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:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog

Bold is who I cannot tag!

290 notes · View notes