#midnight sons: blood hunt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sprout-fics · 1 year

Text

Rotes Mädchen: Chapter 1

(Werewolf! König x Red Riding Hood! Reader)

(Art by the lovely @zwienzixes)

(Masterlist)

Word count: 3.5k Rating: PG-13 Tags: Werewolf! Konig, Fairytale AU, Monster Hunters TF141, Witch Laswell, Traditional German Fairytale setting, Price x Reader if you squint, F! Reader, Me making up lore for this series as I go Warnings: Mentioned gore and offscreen death A/N: Part 1 of a limited series with a unique take on a classic fairytale!

Things started changing after the October moon.

Small things at first. Farmers at the edge of the village started noticing their stables were disturbed overnight. Loose hay bales in the lofts, livestock skittish and nervous. Hunters reported deer and other game being hard to find. The animals in the forest started becoming scarce, quiet, as if the woods themselves were trying to silence themselves. These woods, the ones you knew, seemed to be harboring a horrible secret.

Soon it was the storehouses, the smoked meats and harvest tucked away from the brutal winter months being raided. You heard rumors in the village square of drifters, thieves that were lurking in the forest and planning to raid your little town.

Then the sightings began.

"Bigger than a stray dog." The village gossip had whispered to you. "By the northern pastures. Dark as night, gleaming eyes."

You had scoffed, rolled your eyes. A monster then, of course. It made sense in a little village like yours that people would instantly try and exaggerate, try to make their story seem grander than it was. Anything to break up the monotony of daily life in the countryside. Really, the thing as likely nothing more than a lone wolf, in search of a pack to join and wandered far beyond the realms of the ancient Black Forest to where it belonged.

Rumors began to fly. The thing was seen stalking sheep at sunset, when fog rolled through the glades and obscured shapes dancing at the edge of the woods. At midnight a hunter saw it dance beyond his lantern as he hiked to his cottage. A guard dog barked at a strange shadow in the middle of the night. A young girl saw it pause and look back at her, a bloodied hare hanging limp from its gleaming jaws.

You paid it no mind. You knew better by now than to indulge in fairytales. The wolf was an uncommon sight in these lands, but not entirely unusual. It wasn’t some strange omen as your neighbors had made it out to be, spooked by the low, golden, full moon on Hallows Eve. Soon enough the thing, the wolf, would migrate, move on from the area around the village and into the hills, and soon your neighbors would forget such a thing ever existed.

You thought that, at least, until one day a farmer's son was found dead at dusk, claw marks ripped through his chest and blood seeping into the dark, untendered soil upon which he lay.

A werewolf.

Or so they said, as you hovered with several other village girls outside the door of the tavern, where the village elders gathered in deep discussion. Your scarlet cloak did little to ward off the chill of oncoming frost, the shudder of dread at the thing that stalked the periphery of the village. The warm lantern light filtered through the cracks where you and the other young women gathered, casting in slants across your vision as the others around you hushed, pressing their ears flat so as to listen to the words of the wiser inside.

"We need to hunt it down."

"Form a group."

"But then who will watch the livestock?"

"The woods are too vast."

"It will pick us off like flies."

Through the cracks you could see her, Katherine. Known only as 'Laswell' by many, hands folded under her chin, grey eyes hard in contemplation. Her cloak hung heavy from her shoulders, muddied at the hem from her trek through the woods. Yet despite her journey she had arrived untouched, without so much as a scratch upon her. The others eyed her suspiciously for that, her strange immunity to the wolf that stalked the forest.

She was an interesting character, a woman who seemed to know far more than she let on. You once heard tales from a traveler of a goddess from a far land, grey eyed and wise, an owl perched on her shoulder as a sign of wisdom.

“Athena.” He had said in utter wonder, eyes blue like the Adriatic Sea. Yet where he described a woman with a plumed helmet draped in linen robes and holding a shield, you only saw Laswell with her grey, muted dresses and twinkling, knowing eyes. The others seemed to be suspicious of her knowledge, her craft, and yet now they turned to her for the very same, silent as she contemplated all she had heard. Yet unlike them you looked upon her with reverence, a wide, keen gaze that took in the rise of her chest as she raised her head, staring forward at the others.

"We shall call the Witchers."

The Witchers.

Monster hunters. You thought they were the stuff of legend, mercenaries who roamed the land in search of powerful prey, hunting down goblins and ghouls and creatures of the night. Born and raised by the silver blade, swift, cunning, strong, nearly invincible. The closest thing to a demi-god you'd ever heard of.

You shouldn't have been surprised Kate knew of them, with her glinting eyes and many mysterious secrets. The wise woman, they called her, the one who lived on the other side of the woods all by herself, and yet seemed to know more than the rest of the elders combined. It turned out Kate not only knew of the Witchers, but how to contact them.

Cost, she said, was no concern. For she knew the captain, an old friend, one who owed her a debt. If she called him, he would come.

And come he did, before the next moon.

You were in the village square when they arrived. There's chatter and then the sound of hooves, and the sudden motion of their arrival made the scarlet hem of your cape flutter in the breeze. On black horses who chuffed at the frigid autumn air, their withers looming over your height, a man with a beard, a cap and a grim gleam in his eyes stared down at you, flanked by three other riders. Brawny men, scarred, serious, emanating danger from their mere presence. You stare up at them in a mix of apprehension and awe, feeling the air shift around you, whisper a warning you don’t heed.

"We were summoned by Laswell." The man with the cap tells you with no introductions, not that any are needed. You know from the mere sight of them who the men are, with their ink dyed cloaks and silver blades, the dulled armor glinting in the scant afternoon sunlight. Soldiers, warriors, of a different breed. Ones who had earned their titles from years spent seeping their swords in black blood.

"On the other side of the forest." You reply to him unflinchingly, refusing to back down from his unwavering stare.

"Guide us." Is all he supplies in return, offering a single leather gloved palm down to your form. You eye it suspiciously, but at last place your smaller palm in his. With a jump and a hoist, you find yourself sat behind him as his steed nickers and shifts uncertainly under you. You clutch at his rider's cloak nervously for a moment, at which point a coy glance is spared your way, and you settle yourself, offering only a small, indignant silence in return.

"Go on then, Rotes Mädchen." Price encourages gruffly. "Lead us to our summoner."

You wonder then, briefly, if the summoner he mentions truly is a witch of the woods as he seems to suggest.

There's no time to ponder upon it, for as soon as you point Price urges his steed onwards and you are both off down the woodland paths, followed quickly behind by his three men. You surrender yourself to wrapping your arms around his middle in an effort to not fall off, the bumps and grooves of his armor digging into your skin as the troop rides through the forest fog and onwards to Kate's secluded home.

You arrive just as the sun sets. Mist clings to the clearing of the old mill where Laswell lives, shadows whispering at the edges of trees and the canopy growing dark with fading light. The ride is shorter than you expected, but by the end of your journey you feel your rump grow tender with the constant cantering pace that the captain urged his horse upon.

So you're surprised then, when Price slides down off his gelding and offers his hands to you, firmly holding you as your feet slide back to earth. It's a chivalrous gesture, one you thought was beyond a gruff, grim soldier such as the captain. Yet it is with surprising care that he allows you to descend from the saddle, straighten you as your feet wobble on earth.

Laswell greets you all at her doorstep, her thread picked shawl fluttering in the breeze as she ushers you all inwards without so much as a word. There's hardly any greetings, not until you are all settled close to her hearth, which glows bright and welcoming in the growing cold.

You gaze at the men around you from where you perch atop a stool, poking at the tender, licking flames. Body half turned away from them, you regard the strangers out of the corner of your eyes, taking in their dark cloaks and sheathed blades, the glint of their dulled, iron armor as it reflects the fire. There's an uneasy silence that hangs over the room, filled only by the shuffle of boots and low murmur of voices as Laswell vanishes into the direction of her bedroom.

When she emerges at last, there's a hushed, reverent silence that washes over the group, as if she commands attention with her mere presence. There's few words exchanged as she withdraws something small enough to fit into a palm, offers it to the man called Price. You catch a glimpse of it as it passes hands. A tuft of hair carefully wrapped in a cloth, something that looks like it belongs to an animal- dark, coarse, matted with blood.

Price turns it over in his hands, hums a rough, displeased sound.

"This happened during the half-moon?" He asks, voice a grinding sound in his chest, like smoke caught in a chimney.

"I know the signs, John." Kate replies, quieter, firm, grave. "I wouldn't have called you here otherwise."

You watch then, as Price's eyes slide from your friend to you. A silent question. A warning.

Kate only shakes her head. "She's safe." She tells him, and then turns to you herself. Two of the men instantly step aside to make way for her as she paces over, gently takes both your hands in hers to lift you from your chair.

"She picks herbs for me in the forest." Kate explains, voice gentler now as she's closer to you. "Brings me things from the village. She's a friend."

You turn your gaze from Kate, from her steel-eyed grey stare to the four men before you, shifting anxiously on your feet.

"Hello." You offer simply, voice quiet.

"That would explain the red cloak." The one with the quiver strapped to his back chuffs after a moment from where he sits on his chair, across the table. He nods at the cape that drapes behind you. "So hunters can spot you, right?"

You nod, swallowing and feeling your throat go dry as four witchers suddenly fix their gazes onto you. Their eyes rake over your form, and you suddenly feel as if their prey is not monsters, but you.

It's the man with the strange haircut that steps forward first, offering his hand with a grin that tugs to one side of his face.

"John." He tells you with an accent you can't place as you take his gloved hand in yours. "You can call me Soap."

What kind of name is that? You wonder silently and offer only your name in reply. His smirk broadens, and he turns to reveal his fellows.

"That archer there is Gaz." Soap tells you, and said man gives you a friendly, gentle wave from where he sits, face tugging into a smile. "But you can call him ‘dunderheid’ for the time he's spent falling out of trees."

"Twice." Gaz seethes, rubbing at his brow with mild irritation. "Only ever twice."

You hide a small laugh behind your hand, and then follow Soap's gaze to a figure standing in the dark corner of the room, freezing as your eyes land upon him.

A bone white mask. A curved beak. A pitch-dark stare that bores into your marrow.

Cold dread settles over your limbs, and you take an instinctive step back, closer to Kate to seek reassurance from the huge, looming stranger that occupies the shadows of the room.

A Poltergeist. Your mind whispers in horror.

Kate gently brushes her hand across your shoulder, and your eyes dart from her to the strange figure. Yet her smile is kind, gentle in the face of the phantom.

"Ah-" Soap supplies. "That's Ghost." He briefly turns to shoot the man a withering stare, to which the phantom only shrugs nonchalantly, as if unconcerned or perhaps bemused by your apprehension.

"Sorry, he's an odd fellow. Dannea mean you any harm. Spooks the hell out of us sometimes too."

You relax a little at Soap's jovial tone, shoulders going slack and a breath releasing from your chest. Ghost catches your eyes again, offers a silent, respectful nod before mercifully redirecting his stare elsewhere.

"-And of course, you've met our brave captain." Soap finishes, and you lift your eyes to Price, who leans near the door. You lock eyes from across the room, and blink at the scrutinizing weight of his stare. You wonder if he's been looking at you like that the whole time. Heavy. Fixated. Unwavering. Yet in this moment he gives you a slow, respectful nod, and as he raises his head his eyes take you in from the bottom up, coming once more to rest on your face.

"Kate." He says, and it isn't until a moment later that he breaks his stare with you. "We should discuss details. We only have two weeks before the next moon. if we don't hunt down the thing before then..." He trails off, and in the silence, the fire crackles, allowing your mind to fill in the void with ruinous images of destruction.

Kate nods, but instead of moving to discuss the issue at hand she turns to the hearth, reaches for the pot hanging above the fire.

"We shall." She declares with a sigh, and the lid comes way to reveal a simmering stew. "But first you shall all eat, and bathe. You smell like horse manure."

---

It's well past dark by the time you rise to leave. The evening is spent crowded around Kate's table, Gaz and Soap bumping elbows and exchanging good-natured insults with the occasional comment from Price and Kate. They push each other aside to regale you with stories of their hunts, of times spent in distant corners of the kingdoms pursuing creatures you couldn't dare to imagine. After the meal is over Price sits back in his chair and withdraws a pipe, stuffs it with tobacco and idly listens to the conversation. You watch him from the corner of your eyes, eyes tracing the smoke that billows past his lips like dragon’s breath.

Kate watches on with a smile. There's a fondness in her eyes you rarely see. It takes you a moment to realize she regards these men as family, the younger of them as her sons, of their captain as a friend, an ally. There's a history there you don't fully recognize, one you want to pull on the thread of and watch it unravel. Yet you know it's far too soon. There’s many things you’ve yet to learn about your friend, and this secret among these will only be revealed with the passage of time.

There's questions you want to ask, things you thirst to know. How does Kate know these men? Why do they turn to her with such reverence and respect? Why does the captain trust her word with few, if any questions? Just how much does Kate know for these men to come to her aid so quickly?

Such things will have to wait, for you yawn and rise to reach for your cloak. You pause to offer a brief goodnight to the men at the table, who in turn offer theirs. Yet before you make it to the door there's a hand that settles gently on the handle before you can touch it.

"Allow me." A smoky voice grumbles at you, and you turn into the eyes of Price, who tilts his head down at you to better regard your blinking, wide-eyed expression.

"The woods are dangerous, love." He murmurs low between the two of you, words laden with caution. "Especially now, at night."

Especially for a woman like you.

Normally, you'd excuse yourself, tell him you know the woods like the back of your hand. There is nothing within them you aren't familiar with. Every rise and dip of the gulches, every hollow and rotting oak tree- they are mapped within your mind. The woods raised you, kept you safe. They won't betray you, not even to a monster.

Yet you allow yourself to be escorted anyways, deciding not to test your trust of the forest in the face of a creature of the night. Price helps you onto his horse before rising himself, and rather than canter in the direction of town he chooses instead to walk quietly so you can listen to the owl in the trees, the rustle of foxes in the underbrush.

You talk. Quiet conversation. Words not meant to disturb the sanctity of the forest at the midnight hour. You ask Price about his men, how he met them, learn more about the strange hunters who have entered your village. He tells you about how he began as an inquisitor, hunting witches, before he met Kate. He tells you how she helped him save Ghost from a cult, how they weren't soon enough, and now the man is forced to bear a curse that has left his face a horrifying scar of itself. He tells you how he oversaw Soap and Gaz's training, saw them find their best skills and hone them until they themselves were living weapons.

You listen to the quiet but sure pride in his voice as he tell you of his men, of the things they've done. You leech warmth from his back as the road passes under you, form rocking atop his horse, head nodding downwards as fatigue begins to overtake you.

Then, down the path, a branch snaps.

It sounds like the impact of an axe against wood, ringing sharply out into the forest. Your head shoots up immediately, arms clinging tighter to Price's back as he too stiffens, voice cutting into silence as you both listen.

A rustle.

You feel your heart beat at your chest like a tiny, trapped bird, fluttering and frantic as you peer past Price-

-and see the huge, mammoth shadow hiding in the mist.

Taller than you both atop Price’s draft horse, a silhouette that seems to blot out the light of the moon itself. Dark, coarse fur the same as Kate’s relic, and the smell- of something wild, untamed, of rotting carrion and a thing that has no place in the forest you called home.

You freeze, feeling the icy grip of dread wash over you, pinned beneath the stare of glowing, yellow eyes that latch onto your form huddled behind the witcher in front of you.

A growl.

Price's horse whinnies then, shrill as it rears in the face of the strange shadow. You scream just as loud as you nearly lose your balance, gripping tightly to the captain as you begin to slide backwards in the saddle.

"Hold tight!" Price bellows at you as his steed comes down, hooves beating against the forest path. Within moments you and Price are bolting down the path atop his horse, hooves thundering into the night as you wrap your arms securely around his middle. You shake, clutching onto him with a bruising grip, eyes glassy as your mind replays the image of what you've seen.

Taller than any man, a huge, lumbering thing. Its arms too long, ears standing atop its furry head, huge spine hunched forward as a pair of gleaming, yellow eyes gaze at you from the trees. Fangs snarl at you in the confines of your mind, and you feel yourself caught between yellowed teeth as the thing crunches down in a killing blow. You think for a moment you hear the sounds of it giving chase above the rapid echo of your own terror, and despite yourself you venture a gaze behind you as Price’s horse thunders down the misty midnight path towards the safety of the village.

You see just a glimpse of it from beyond your fluttering red cape, a shadow that dwarfs your thoughts, a gaze that fixates on you from afar, seeming to promise ‘Soon, little maiden. Soon.’

A werewolf.

Taglist: (If you'd like to be tagged in future updates please REBLOG this post)

@writeforfandoms @zwiiicnziiix @soapskneebrace

#König #König x reader #konig x reader #konig x you #König x you #reader insert #fic: rotes madchen

1K notes · View notes

why-i-love-comics · 24 days

Text

Midnight Sons: Blood Hunt #1 preview

#midnight sons #marvel #marvel comics #comics #comic books #previews

22 notes · View notes

cringywhitedragon · 16 days

Text

It’s midnight and why has my brain thought of shipping Dante from DMC with the protagonist from “What in Hell is Bad”

WARNING THIS A MORE MATURE GAME SO BE WARNED AND DNI WITH THE FANDOM IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 ID ADVISE NOT INTERACTING WITH IT!!

Descendant of Solomon meets the son of Sparta, both of whom are trying to stop Armageddon (Likely through different means) forced to join sides.

The dynamic would be something since we all know Dante and how possibly the forces of the Underworld would either be scared of or just out to get his ass.

Plus some Goetia have appeared in the DMC series (At least 3 and it’s kinda spread all over the place with one being from the reboot timeline so it would really depend on the version of Dante we’d be working with but for clarity’s sake let’s just say three of them are dead) so that would likely knock the count of vassels/lords down to 69 of 72.

The sins would be possibly well acquainted with our favorite devil hunter (Likely due to Sparta who in this universe may have held a rank similar to a Sin due to the Underworlds of DMC and WiHiB working way differently. Same would go for Mundas too who would have likely tried to take the whole place over.) and no doubt there would be some tension over the MC because of that (And just Dante being a massive troll to them. *Cue casual gun or sword to the face.*)

Angels and how their dynamic would work with Dante would be hard to tell since how infrequently and how little we know of them in DMC-verse (Plus the reboot verse, this ain’t Bayonetta after all.). Likely they likely know of him but I just Idk? Maybe he ends up a target because demon blood or perhaps the Angels just leave him alone because of him hunting demons (which likely makes their job a whole lot easier)? I’ll let you decide.

And Solomon likely knew Sparda. But I’m not sure what Grandpappy would be thinking about somebody hanging out with a certain half-breed who severs demon contracts in a bit more bloody fashion

So in simple terms, half-demon son of Sparda and mage king’s descendants work together to stop Armageddon and make peace between Heaven and Hell while dealing with the chaos and uber jealous Sin demons. While grandpappy’s reincarnated on Earth as a simple human in the middle of Antartica trying to save the world while getting catfished by a half incubus. Oh wait…wrong game

#what in hell is bad #dmc dante #crossover #reshi rambles #devil may cry #dante sparda #whb mc #whb solomon #Likely very inaccurate because I know more about dmc

19 notes · View notes

smashpages · 3 months

Text

The Midnight Sons reunite to battle the vampire horde during ‘Blood Hunt’

Blade, two Ghost Riders and more will come together in a new miniseries by Bryan Hill and Germán Peralta.

cover by Ken Lashley

#midnight sons #marvel #comic books #comics #blood hunt #bryan hill #german peralta #blade #ghost rider #ken lashley

19 notes · View notes

graphicpolicy · 3 months

Text

The Midnight Sons return in Midnight Sons: Blood Hunt

The Midnight Sons return in Midnight Sons: Blood Hunt #comics #comicbooks #bloodhunt

When the eternal night falls and vampires run rampant across the globe, the Marvel Universe’s last line of defense against the supernatural band together in Midnight Sons: Blood Hunt! Written by current Blade scribe Bryan Hill and drawn by Germán Peralta, the three-issue tie-in series will spin directly out of the shocking events of Blood Hunt #1. Starring Blade, Danny Ketch, Johnny Blaze,…

View On WordPress

#blood hunt #bryan edward hill #comic books #Comics #german peralta #ken lashley #marvel #midnight sons: blood hunt

1 note · View note

houseofthescrolls · 1 year

Text

Midnight Rain

Daemon Targaryen x Reyna Targaryen (OC)

You were my midnight rain

Angst - Slowburn - Fluff

Pt 1 / Pt 2 / Pt 3

I expected many things to happen this morning such as having breakfast, reading letters sent from my kingdom’s advisor Talia, and having tea with Alicent.

What I did not expect was to be standing in front of my son who sat in a chair, blood running heavily down his nose. I tilted his head back gently as I pressed a cloth to it.

“Everyone, get out.” I demanded the guards and physician who stood nervously about the room.

They scattered like mice at my tone and no sooner did the door close, I turned my attention back to my son.

“Explain. Now.” I demanded him wondering who I needed to hunt down.

“I was training with Aemond and Lucerys when the both of them got into an argument. They started fighting and when I stepped in to stop them, I was hit.” He flinched at the small bit of pressure I applied.

“I’m sorry.” I caressed his head with my free hand, “I am proud that you tried to dismantle the situation, but it was still very dangerous of you to do so. What if they had a knife? Who knows what those boys are capable of.” My brows furrowed at the thought.

“I know and I am sorry mother.” He glanced away, “They did stop fighting immediately after they realized what they did and apologized.”

“At least they have some mind to own up to their mistake.” I huffed.

“Daemon…” His voice trailed off unsure if he should keep this tidbit of information to himself.

I tensed up at the sound of his name, “What about him?” I asked.

“He helped me after…” Viserys waved his hand towards his nose, “Ripped a piece of his shirt to help stop the bleeding. He walked me here.”

“That is…” Kind of him. Was what I wanted to say, but cleared my throat, “Did he say anything to you?”

Viserys shrugged, “He asked about my father. I told him I didn’t know much. He also said that my fighting style reminded me of his own.” Viserys clenched his fist, “I wanted to tell him then. In that moment I wanted to yell or fight, I don’t know.” He sighed, “I didn’t.”

I placed my hand gently on his cheek, “You did well. I know that this must be difficult for you, love I know and it tears at my heart. The rogue prince is an ass, but he is smarter than he lets on.” I took a calming breath, “I asked you before we came here if you wanted him to know who you are. Have you-”

“No.” He went to shake his head, but I held him steady, “I still hate him.” He announced, “Never will I chose him over you. You are my mother.”

Tears filled my eyes as I let out a shaky break, “And you are my son.” I laughed lightly, “Look at me, I’m getting all emotional now.”

“You’re emotional for the both of us.” He joked.

After some comfortable silence he spoke up again. I could tell he was worried when I looked at the damage of his nose again now that the blood was cleaned up.

“Is it broken?” He wondered.

I shook my head, “No, the gods were kind to you. Your nose remains as beautiful as the day you were born.” I smiled pulling the cloth away and putting it in a dish filled with red tinted water.

His nose was swollen and bruised naturally, but it looked better than the constant flow of blood. If this was more than a bloody nose, those boys would feel the wrath of a mother.

Viserys rolled his eyes with a huff, “Stop coddling me mother. I am not a child anymore.”

I pressed a kiss to his forehead, “You will always be my child.” I pulled away to see a smile on his face, “Now come, you will be spending the day with your grandmother and I.”

“I don’t think I would count Alicent as my grandmother, she’s as old as you.” He muttered, but stood up nonetheless.

“Hey,” I lightly scolded him, “I’m not that old. Now let’s go before I change my mind and have a word with those two.”

“I’ll be miserable sitting there.” His pleading anything eyes shimmered as he begged not to go, “I promise I’ll be fine on my own mother. This wasn’t even a big deal after all.”

I sighed, “Oh alright. Just be careful and if I so much as hear that you are in trouble… I’ll be there alongside Solaris and you know she will set the entire kingdom ablaze to keep you safe.”

He chuckled, “I know mom, I will see you later at supper.”

I swiftly walked down the hall, not wanting to miss out on our first afternoon tea in years. It was the one time of day we could tear down our walls and be ourselves. Plus, I knew without a doubt that she would know all of the secrets and whispers running through the castle.

“I’m sorry I’m late Alicent, you wouldn’t believe what our boys have been up too. I also told him you were technically his grandmother. I know you hate it, but it’s still funny.” I giggled shutting the door.

When I didn’t hear a reply, I turned around to find the lack of curly red hair in her usual seat and instead platinum white that reveled the moon in the night sky.

“Oh…” I said surprised before straightening up to give him a neutral expression, “It’s you.”

His gaze was surprisingly kind as a soft smile grazed his face, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you like this.”

I didn’t greet him in kind. Instead I crossed my arms with a pointed look in his direction, “What are you doing here?”

His smile morphed into his usual smirk as he raised an eyebrow, “Is that anyway to talk to your uncle?”

I scoffed, “It is. Now get out.” I motioned towards the door, “I’m waiting for my friend.”

It was his turn to scoff, “You mean Alicu-“

I cute him off, “Call her anything but her name and I’ll gut you for the pigs.”

He smirk returned, “There’s my girl.” The warmth in his voice left me feeling how I did all those years ago.

I shook the feeling away as quickly as it came, “Enough games uncle. Why are you here?”

“The Queen had an important meeting to tend to. I offered to pass this message along.” He took a step towards me, “Does that suffice?”

“Why would you offer to do that?” My brows furrowed and I stepped towards him, “And why would you help my son? I am grateful that you did, do not get me wrong, but you never help anyone aside from yourself. So tell me what you are up too.”

“Isn’t it obvious, my little flame?” He took a step closer.

I matched his with a step back, “Do not call me that.”

Another step forward.

“I would call you nothing, but what you are.” He muttered.

Another step back.

“You have no right.” I held back the shakiness in my voice, “Not anymore.”

Another step toward. He was close enough that I could feel his breath on my face.

“I have every right because you are mine.” He whispered as he gently lifted my chin up.

I glared, the sting of oncoming tears burning my eyes, “I will never be yours again.” I pushed against his chest and he took a step back, “You made that very clear.”

“Wait-” He reached his hand out towards me , but held himself back.

I made a beeline towards the doors, “Don’t talk to me, stop with whatever scheme you have in that thick skull of yours and heed my words. I don’t need nor want you. All I want is peace for the rest of my stay here, preferably as far away from you. Good day, uncle.” I seethed as I grabbed the door handle.

“I know.” He stated causing me to stop in my mission to get as far away from him as possible.

I sighed heavily already done with his antics. I don’t understand what game he was trying to play or why he wants me when he’s left me alone for almost fifteen years.

“Know what?” I turned to him with a dramatic wave of my hands, “That you are the biggest man child in this kingdom? No, scratch that, in the entire world! From here to beyond the seas and every piece of land and sky to ever exist!”

“I know the blood of a dragon when I see one.” He spat.

My blood ran cold. He couldn’t possibly… No. remain calm and don’t let anything slip.

I hid my uncertainty with a scoff, “And your intelligence is far from superb as well.” I rolled my eyes as I turned to flee.

“You, my little flame are the only person in this worlds who can insult me this much without me removing your head from your body.” He was too quick for me to escape the grip of his hand on my arm, facing me towards him.

I shrunk away from his intimidating gaze as he leaned down to my ear, “But you know very well that I am not stupid.” He seethed, “The boy is mine.”

I used my queen voice as I spoke, “I don’t know what could possibly make you think such a thing.”

He large hand easily cupped the side of my face making sure that I was looking directly into his gaze.

“Do not lie to me.” He spoke lowly.

I rolled my eyes, “I am not-”

Technically it was truth.

“I know you are lying!” He cut me off quickly, “He is my son then he belongs under my house!”

I blinked slowly at the audacity of his tone, “Do not raise your voice with me.”

His temper died down slowly as he regained his composure, “I know he is mine. You wouldn’t sleep with anyone else.”

I quickly pulled away from his grip, “Wouldn’t sleep with anyone else?” I scoff, “You think I would still be fawning over you after all these years? That I would wait day and night for you to grace me with your presence? After what you did to me?”

“Yes.” He shook his head, “No… I…” He was once again left speechless by the woman who consumes his thoughts, “We are meant to be consumed by each other. Tell me the boy is my son and you both will stay by my side forever.”

I ignored his words just like the burning in my eyes. He was right, I haven’t slept with anyone else… Not because I was waiting, but I’ve been too busy with regaining a kingdom of my own and raising my son. Would I ever tell him that? Never. My trust for him was burned since that day.

“Have you heard the news my princess?” My handmaiden Lyra asked.

I turned to the girl confused, this stopping her from finishing the braids in my hair.

“What news might that be?” I asked with a soft smile.

“It appears that something big has happened back in the kingdom.” She said softly and I could tell she was unsure of how to proceed.

“Really?” I wondered, “Surely my family would have written to me by now. It has only been a few years since I’ve stepped foot in my father’s kingdom, but my uncle was here only a week ago. Surely he would have said something.”

“I am unsure of why your family has not informed you yet.” She stated a nervous tone settling in her voice.

“Is it about my sister’s courting season? Alicent wrote to me about the possible prospects for Rhaenyra… I would like to visit her as soon as these dignitary meetings are over to help her through it. Except the southeast of Westeros is anything, but sound.” I sighed as I looked at myself in the mirror. My gaze focused on the necklace from Daemon resting around my neck and my heart swelled, “At least my prince won the battle of Stepstones, I’m beyond proud of him.”

Lyra combed back another piece of my hair to braid, “I know my princess.”

And she did in fact know… About everything that went on between Daemon and I. She was my most trusted handmaiden after all. Daemon was the one to invite me to come along with him and of course I would bring her along. She was one of the few who approved of our love even if she was a bit skeptical about the prince.

Though my prince and I have been more than content with our little piece of the world. We were happy together. Truly, blissfully, and utterly happy.

“I count the days until we are wed…” I muttered as I twirled the jewelry in my hand, “Seven children he begs me for.” I laughed at the memory, “I do not know how I will manage.”

It has been quite a time of secretly pining for each other and now he was within reach. All he needed was his brother’s blessing.

“Even so, I hope that it is soon.” I continued, “I pray to the gods that he will return to me with my fathers blessing. When my prince hands over this territory then surely my father will agree. Then we can finally start a family of our own.”

I felt her hands stop moving my hair. It felt too long of a pause to be normal.

“Lyra? Is everything alright?” I asked with deep concern.

“My princess, there is something you must know…” Her voice trailed off.

I looked at her through the mirror, “You know that you can tell me anything. What is it?”

“The prince was seen in a pleasure house this week with someone.” She bowed her head.

I felt as if I had lost a battle, on my knees as a sword plunged through my chest. The darksister twisting my bones and bleeding me dry as Daemon towered above me.

He wouldn’t… Would he? Uncertainty settled in the pits of my stomach. A feeling of guilt washing over me because a part of me believed it to be true.

“With…” I cleared my throat to keep it from breaking, “Who?”

“He was with your sister.” She answered, “There has been rumors about the two of them, that they had…”

I shook my head in denial stopping her from continuing, “No… It couldn’t be true, they wouldn’t do that. This must be a mistake, a silly rumor.” I smiled lightly trying to think posisitive, “He will be back and he will confirm that it was all just petty gossip.”

“Of course, my princess.” Lyra spoke and continued on with braiding.

But it wasn’t small gossip that would flee from everyone’s minds within a week. No… That gossip grew louder and louder until it was a wave swallowing me whole. Alicent confirmed my worst fears through her letter, a letter I chuckled into a fire after reading as I screamed to our once shared bedroom.

Lyra entered my bedroom chambers where I looked anything, but presentable. I looked up at her from where I sat on my bed in the rumpled sheets. My nose was red and my eyes watery yet that slight sliver of hope kept me from drowning.

“Have you…” I coughed trying to clear my throat once again, “Have you heard any news? Has he finally come back?”

A month I have been waiting to see those silvery locks once more, dreaming every night that he was here with me. He hasn’t written or come to offer me any answers. His presence here was only, but a ghost. A faded memory of someone who held much power over my heart.

Lyra shook her head sadly, “I am afraid the prince will not be returning. The prince has taken a bride… I am truly sorry to be the one to burden you with this news, but he has wed another woman. It is your cousin Laena, my princess.”

I nodded wordlessly. The sharp pain in my hand brought my gaze down where I realized that I had been digging my nails into the palm of my hands.

She bowed her head, “The people are also talking… Rumors spread of the kindling you had with the prince my lady.”

I took a deep breath before speaking, “They are moths drawn to a flame. Please tell my guards and anyone who wishes to join me that I will be leaving the stepstones by the end of the week. If you wish, you may return to my father’s kingdom. I will not be cross if you do not want to join me.”

“I will stay with you and your heir until the end, my princess.” She stated sincerely.

“Thank you Lyra.” I smiled grimly looking down at the bump forming on my stomach.

“My lady… Where will we go?” She asked.

“A place that we can make a change…” I placed my hand over my stomach, “A place where we can start anew.”

She nodded in understanding, “I will see to that everything is prepared for our departure.”

“Thank you my friend. That will be all, Goodnight Lyra.” I bidded her Goodnight.

“Goodnight Princess.” She said as she shut the door.

It was then that I finally let the waves pull me down.

“No one will harm you.” I whispered to my unborn child, “I promise.”

I will be strong on my own.

The memory consumed me in feelings of despair and defeat, but most of all anger.

“I was already hated in the eyes of the court and the people for my lack of dragon blood.” I stated my mind coming back to the present.

I looked him dead in the eyes, “You knew this and yet you still perused me and then you left me for my sister.” My eyes slanted into a heavy glare, “They mocked me… Shunned me. I was a laughing stock. The little girl who weaseled her way into the Royal court and seduced her step-uncle only to be tossed aside because I wasn’t good enough.” I stepped towards him in rage and he knew his only option was to step back, “My name was tainted because of you. Unfit to marry they said, not pure they whispered. I was casted out and what did you do? Nothing. You left me on the stepstones to rot.”

I let him soak in those words. His hurt gaze looking at me.

It was only when I saw regret fill his eyes that I finally said, “His father is dead and he was a far better man than you are now. He is not yours. He never will be.” I spat at him and slammed the door shut behind me as I left.

The crashing sounds that occurred shortly after behind those heavy doors only fueled my anxiety and anger as I rushed down the hall.

Never… never… never… For as long as I live and breathe he will never be his. My child is my own and my own alone.

I screamed as I enter my bedroom, hot tears stinging my face.

“This was a horrible idea!” I yelled throwing the nearest thing, a vase towards a wall.

I paced the room in growing anger, “He won’t take my son away from me, he can’t! He has no proof, no claim, only a theory.” I said, trying to calm myself.

I sat on my bed with a heavy sigh, “He has no proof… No proof.” I whispered.

I looked to the balcony out to the clouds that are calling me home.

“Just a few more days.” I fell back onto the silk sheets made of red.

“Queen Reyna.” A knock alerted me to a maid standing behind my closed doors.

I sat up and made myself more presentable.

I cleared my throat, “Yes?”

“Is everything alright? I heard noises.”

“Of course!” I called out to her, “I knocked over something on my desk, no need to worry!”

“Alright. I’d like to inform you that the king requests your presence.” She stated.

“Of course!” I answered, “Thank you. Inform my father that I will be there in just a moment.”

“Yes, your highness.” She took my answer in kind and I could hear her footsteps leave.

“Great.” I muttered as I straightened myself up, “How do I explain to my father that I wish to murder his brother?”

I stood in front of my mirror, checking to make sure that I was the proper form of a queen.

“You will not fear the dragon’s den.” I stated before I left my room.

Stay tuned!

Tag list

@shipheart @this-is-a-bad-idea @dragon-in-a-kettle @hadthemapplebottomjeans @danielle-leah1997 @animelover18 @hc-geralt-23 @moni-cah @stargaryenx @wisdomofthebrain @beggarsnotchoosey @jcpenneyyy @sunmoon-01 @green-lxght @jackierose902109

#daemon angst #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x rhaenyra #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #daemon x reyna

214 notes · View notes

visionsofmagic · 1 year

Text

hate or forgive | freya.

[masterlist]

| word count: 2.1k

|| summary: no, ragnarok wasn’t any of your concern. you world already had its ragnarok when freya left you, promising to kill you because of what you did to save her. as you made your way to follow atreus’ wish, she came to your life again. but this time, you decided to give her what she deserves, even if it meant your death.

|| warnings!: angst, angst with a happy ending, kisses, fighting, fluff (thanks to freyr), blood, injuries, wounds, chocking blood, bleeding.

||| request: Hey again! Can you please do fem reader x Freya, where they are lovers and it's Y/N who killed Freya's son, because she wanted to protect Freya? And maybe also include that now Freya is hunting her down (like in the Ragnarok game), with a happy ending where Freya forgives y/n, because she almost lost her on the quest where they tried to free Freya from Odin's magic... please?

Hope it makes sense!

owner of the request: @midnight-lestrange ♡ [I hope you will like it!]

Blood.

There were lots of blood, running from head to toe, leaving its trails on the body, presenting a horrible scene to the eyes. It was hot, burning flesh alive with a warming. Death, it was the first think that came to mind; just death. But then, there she was, Freya, running towards the place your body lied. What was this feeling? Not just pain. It was something else, like, a relief. Why you felt relief when the death was at your door, ready to open it forcefully and take you to his home was the question you asked yourself. Other side of your mind answered; because Freya running to us, because Freya is here, and she is all we need.

It was true. Freya was here, already picking up your body and saying some magical words by moving her hands on your body while crying. In every breath taking, she screamed your name, “Y/n! Hold on! You will be okay!”

You tried to smile, lifting one of your hand to her beautiful face even with tears, “Frigg,” You chocked in blood but kept going, “It is honor to die in your arms.”

“Shut up!” She shouted, her cries increased, “You will not die! Do you hear me? I will not allow it!”

“I love you –“ Was the last sentence you said to her before passing out in her arms, looking at her lovely face maybe for the one last time.

“Y/n!” Her voice was filled with concern. Was she felt concern because of his son or you? It wasn’t clear but you didn’t want to look at her face as you hold Baldur’s head on your strong arms, chocking his to death in pure anger. “If you –“

Without letting her finish, you left the death body of Baldur, making it hit the ground. What you did wasn’t acceptable. You knew it from the beginning. However you had to make a choice between feeling regret and pain for all of your life because of letting Baldur killing Freya, your beloved one and killing him to prevent Freya’s death. Choice you made was clear as day. Have to feel pain and regret, losing her when you had a chance to save wasn’t something you could endure. So, you made a choice and you were ready for its outcomes.

As Freya’s arms held Baldur’s death and cold body, you began to feel her anger and sadness. Sadness of seeing her son’s die, and anger to you, became the reason behind it.

“I –“ She tried to say, holding her son closely, looking at you with eyes that filled with full of hate, making your heart broke into a hundred pieces, “I will not forgive you!” She poisoned you with her tone, “I will –“ She took a deep breath, “I will kill you.”

“Freya –“ Kratos tried to say behind you, probably trying to make Freya come to her senses and see the real reason why you did this, killing Baldur.

You stopped him, “No,” You look at the Freya one last time, then, you turned to other side. “She already made her decision.” You began to walk, Atreus and Kratos behind you. All of broken pieces began to cut your flesh both inside and outside.

And from that moment, it didn’t stop at all.

Its preasure increased even. Every time Freya tried to kill you you felt a great pain because of pieces you had. She wasn’t loving you anymore, she just had pure anger towards you, making her to keep trying killing you. Even if you wanted to give her a chance, you had a promise; being hidden protector of Atreus. You was like his big sister, and you liked it. He was the reason how you hold into the life after Baldur’s death and Freya’s anger. However, whenever she attacked you, either Atreus and Kratos saved you or you found a way out of her presence in order to avoid letting her to kill you because Atreus and Kratos needed you.

The last time she tried to kill you, she stopped, because it was the moment Atreus turned to a bear, trying to protect you from Freya. While Kratos made him calm down, Freya looked at the boy in disbelief, regretting the times you said how you wanted to help boy because he was having some odd issues. Now, seeing it with her own eyes, she turned to other side, taking deep breath, she said, “I am not going to forgive you.” Looking at you directly, making your heart clench in pain but beat faster because of finally seeing her eyes closer. Oh, how you missed them. “But you will help me for something.” She pointed Kratos, “And you too.”

Nodding to her, you agreed on how you would help her to broke the magic Odin created in order to keep from realms except the Midgard.

Kratos and you had so many dangers on your way while helping Freya. She didn’t look at you directly but you could catch her gazes from time to time, especially after she turned into a bird and seeing her missing brother, Freyr. Freyr had same faith as you; hurting Freya. She wasn’t forgiving him, she was angry at him, like the way she was angry at you. You looked at her brother in the eyes, telling him the whole story you had with Freya, including killing Baldur, her son. He seemed sad too, giving you an understanding look. However, the journey must be continued, so, you followed Freya with Kratos to where magic land in the realm.

In the journey, Freya made sarcastic remarks. You hated how she was mad at you, was making statements that broke your heart. However, you had to endure for the sake of your love, your bond, if it remained same. You had to stay calm, not cry, not showing your emotions. You were here to help her, not making her regret to bring you with her.

As you made your way to where magic landed, a creature whose name was Nidhogg attacked you. As she said, it was protecting to magic Odin created and it must be died.

Not thinking twice, you and Kratos began to attack the creature, using your every skill and ability to help Freya, to give her freedom she deserves. After what you have done, helping her bring peace to your soul, making you feel better after a long time of grief. Without wasting a second time, you attacked to the creature again and again even if it cut your flesh, making you bleed all over.

The love you hold for Freya was still there, more than before. You loved her, you love her. She is the only one who you will sacrifice your life for.

And you did.

You sacrificed your life for her.

The moment creature saw Freya broke the spell, the magic Odin put, it went to attack her. Even though she was a powerful one, now, because of feeling a sudden joy, she wasn’t paying attention to the creature and Kratos was trying to stand up again after a heavy attack. Seeing the whole situation, you just stood there for a second, and then, your body moved before your mind with an instinct to protect her even if it meant death.

So, you run towards her, being a barrier between her and the creature, you looked at Nidhogg’s eyes. It was ready to kill you right there. You felt sudden cold, but your flesh felt so alive. As Nidhogg made its way to you, bringing wind towards your location, making it flowed from head to toe, you closed your eyes, thinking Freya’s eyes instead of the creature, you smiled; what a wonderful way to die for the sake of lover’s life.

“What happened?” A distinct concern voice filled in your eyes, making your body feeling like hell because of waking up, gaining consciousness.

“Nidhogg attacked,” Kratos’ deep voice came from other side. You didn’t know how it was good to hear his deep voice, it took your stress away.

“She needs medic.” Freya, the love of your life, spoke, sounding so concerned than others.

While voices continued to come from left to right, you tried to open your eyes. Lifting up your hand from cushions like ground, holding your chest in pain, a moan escaped from your lips and the moment you opened your eyes, you saw her face, filled with concern and pure pain.

“Y/n!” She shouted, holding your arms gently, “Shh –“ She said, “Hold on. Don’t push yourself.”

“She is right,” Freyr said, looking at your now pathetic and bloody body from head to toe in concern like his sister, “You need to rest. We will find a medic. Kratos,” He nodded to him as Kratos looked at you one more time, giving you a nod to say ‘you will be okay’ silently, then, he followed Freyr to search for a medic.

As they disappeared from the sight, you turned to Freya who was mixing some elixir in such hurry, scattering around like a madmen.

“Freya –“ You tried to say, feeling like thousands of needles were entering your whole body. There was so much pain. Not remembering how the creature attacked you, how you made out alive wasn’t any of your concern right now. You just wanted to spend time with Freya alone, not knowing whether you will die in a minute or not. “Hey,” You said again, trying to get up from the floor. She looked at you, anger in her face, “If you try to stand up, I will kill you myself.”

She pushed your shoulders gently and your pain left the body for a moment, feeling joy because of her touches instead of pain. How hungry you were to her touches. How much you missed them, missed her.

Trying to smile, you said, “Like you weren’t trying.”

“Hey,” She said, “If you don’t keep your mouth shut soon –“

“You know the ways to shut my mouth, love.”

You didn’t intent to say ‘love’ but feeling so much adrenaline on your body because of being at the door of death, you just showed your true thoughts and wishes to her. She should know you are still love her before death come and take you.

“Y/n –“

You nodded, “It’s okay. I am not excepting forgiveness from you because of being in a deadly state. I just want you to remember that,” You took a deep breath to continue because it was so painful to talk, especially when there were – probably – wounds on your chest. “I just want you to know that I feel no regret.” You referred to killing Baldur and protecting her life at the same time. She knew that too. “I loved you – and still, I love you.” You smiled, touching her forearm, “I will kill everyone else and myself to protect your life in return. You –“ You chocked blood. She looked shocked to see you in this state, so, she said, “Shut it out. We will talk when you are not chocking blood.”

“But I –“

“No!” She shouted. Then she held her head, looking so sad, dry tears on her beautiful face. “You will not die and I –“ She stopped only to start again, “I will not kill you.”

You felt sudden shock because of her confession. She was starting to forgive.

“Frigg,” You held her hand, “Do not forgive me out of pity.”

“No,” She nodded, holding your hand back, “I am not forgiving you entirely. I am just –“ She took a deep breath, “I just realized how much painful it is to lose you too. Seeing you all bloody – it made me feel sorrow.”

Both you and she began to cry, holding each other’s hands like you had nothing more in entire realms, “I will not kill you. I will try to forgive you.”

Her forehead touched yours.

You smiled, “And I will try my best to deserve it.”

Then, you connected your lips together, feeling her warm ones on yours. This was your cure. She was your only cure.

As you continued to kiss from gentle to passionate one, a fake cough from Freyr interrupted this intimate moment, “I think y/n found her cure after all. Isn’t this right Mimir?”

“Indeed.”

Freya looked at them for a moment; Kratos holding Mimir’s head in the air, Freyr right beside them, looking at you. “Ugh, leave us alone.”

Then, she connected your lips again and you could hear others moving away as you found medicine with Freya, the lover of your life.

END.

266 notes · View notes