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mrs-kmikaelson · 10 months

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Should've Known Better

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Mikaelsons x sister-in-law!reader, Kol Mikaelson x reader (if you squint), Marcel Gerard x mother-figure!reader Summary: After a thousand years of marriage, everything comes crumbling down, taking you with it. But you shouldn't have been so surprised; you knew that Klaus was fire, and you knew that fire burned. You should've known better. Warnings: long, lots of angst and tears, cheating, (do i put tw for violence? like it's tvd, ofc there's violence), no promises of a happy ending Words: 7.8K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: not an update for the tribrid yet, but i come bearing a peace offering. this is the only one for now, but i have an idea for a part two if you guys want one. also, tell me if you want to be on just my klaus taglist or my tvdu one.

In the past, you’d been told that your relationship with Klaus didn’t make any sense. You ignored them. They don’t know us, you thought. They don’t understand what we’ve gone through. And that, for the most part, was true.

You were turned with the Mikaelsons when you were only twenty-one years old. You and Klaus had stuck together since then. Through all the trials and tribulations, you two were inseparable. The daggering of his siblings, the hunter’s curse, his enemies coming after you, trying to break his curse—you were there every step of the way. Nothing could make you leave him. In your mind, it didn’t matter what obstacle life threw at you; you’d beat it. You beat it every single time.

Later, you realized that you should’ve known this would happen sooner.

You should’ve known that it was too good to be true.

You could still remember walking into your shared apartment that day in the nineties. You were on top of the tallest mountain, feeling like you were on top of the world. Until suddenly you fell, plummeting down to the ground as the life you’d built fell with you. But that wasn’t the right word to use. You did not fall that day.

You were pushed.

“Nik, I got the-” you cut yourself off, dropping the bags in your hands to the ground. Something in them cracked, but you couldn’t hear a thing. Your world went silent; it was as if the only cracking you could hear was the cracking of your own heart.

Klaus quickly got up, speeding to you. While he was able to get his pants on quickly, there was nothing he could do to hide the blonde in his bed- your bed.

“Y/N, love, it’s not-”

“It’s not what, Klaus?” Tears that you didn’t even know were there raced down your cheeks. You saw him wince when you addressed him. You never called him that.

“This is not what it looks like.”

“Oh, really? So you didn’t just fuck this girl in our bed?” At that, his eyes went downcast. You felt your hands shake. He had no explanation to give you and you knew that; it wouldn’t matter if he had one, anyway. You weren’t gonna stick around to listen to it.

You sped out of your shared apartment as fast as you could, not caring if any human onlookers saw. That day, you swore to yourself that you were done.

You should’ve known better.

That day, you ended up running to Elijah, hoping he would give you refuge, but you knew now that it was wishful thinking. It didn’t matter that Klaus and Elijah were fighting. It didn’t matter how close you and the nobleman were, how much he claimed to care for you. At the end of the day, his brother would still mean more to him.

So, that same day, Elijah brought you right back to Klaus.

You refused to talk to him, but he begged, and begged, and begged. He promised, and promised, and promised. He showered you with affection and more sweet-nothings than he’d ever given you. So, you thought to yourself, he’s trying. He just made a dumb mistake. We all deserve second chances.

You kick yourself now for ever being so stupid. But, at the time, all you could think about was the centuries upon centuries of love the two of you shared. It felt like a crime to throw it all away over one mistake.

But it wasn’t just one mistake.

“Y/N, love, please don’t do this-” Klaus reached a hand out to grab your arm, but you shoved him away. You stormed out of the house, your husband following right behind you. It was pouring outside, but you didn’t care. There was a much more dangerous storm brewing inside of you. You’d prefer to be out in the rain than to ever be in that house with him again.

“Y/N, please-”

“Get the hell away from me.”

“Y/N-”

You spun on your heel and exploded, “Get the hell away from me, Klaus!” The rain hid it all so well, but you were both crying.

“Please, I can’t lose you.” You finally broke down, letting out a sob. You fell down to the ground as Klaus tried desperately to catch you, ending up kneeling on the ground next to you.

You tried to hard to be strong, not to cry, but you couldn’t help it. You were smart; you knew better than to let a man do this to you. But, when it came to Klaus, the man you’d spent your entire life with, your heart overpowered your head.

Your voice cracked with every word you spoke. “You said this would never happen again.”

“Love-”

“No, you promised me, Nik, you said never again.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “You said you would never put me through this again-”

“Y/N-”

“It’s been all of ten years, and here we are, in the same position you put us in last time-” You cut yourself off sobbing as your voice failed you. You buried your head in your hands. The heartbreak you felt was ineffable, so much more intense than the last time. When you said your vows all those years ago, so high on happiness, you never could’ve imagined that you’d one day feel like this—that Klaus would make you feel like this.

He didn’t say anything else. There was nothing to say. There was no defence for what he was doing to you. So instead, he wrapped his arms around you, and being tired, you let him.

It was funny, almost. Even as he engulfed you in his warmth, even after he took you inside and placed you by the fireplace, you still felt so cold.

After the second time, you left him. You woke up the morning after, wrapped in his arms, and you left without looking back. Leaving him almost hurt just as much as catching him in the act, but you knew this was what was best. You needed to do this.

This time, you didn’t go to Elijah. You cut off all communication with the Mikaelsons completely, even though they were both blowing up your phone. After the first fifty phone calls, you threw it in a dumpster.

Being away from Klaus made you feel better, but you still didn’t feel like you. For a long time, you felt broken, incomplete, so used. You didn’t know who you were without him. But you got better.

Slowly, you built yourself back up, building walls around your heart so that no one could ever do that to you again. But if Klaus was the big bad wolf, then you may as well have just been a little piggy because, when he found you, he blew those walls down effortlessly as if they were made of straw.

See, Klaus Mikaelson was like a whirlpool: try and swim away all you want, but he would just keep sucking you in until you’d eventually die.

You should’ve known better.

You walked into your apartment with a kick in your step. It was a good day; you were happy. But the smile on your face dropped when you saw the figure standing in your home.

You tried to go back out through the door, but Klaus was faster, speeding to you and closing it shut, caging you between the door and him. You let out a shaky breath, unable to turn around as you rested your forehead against the door, tears welling in your eyes.

It’d been three years since you last saw him, the longest you’d ever gone without seeing him, yet he still made you feel things that no one else on earth could.

For a moment, you were both mute until you broke the silence, whispering, “What are you doing here?”

You heard him swallow as if he was scared, but you were the one that was terrified. Klaus would never lay a hand on you, but he could hurt you in ways that were so much worse, so at that moment, you feared for your life. Because you knew that, with the right words, he could get you to fall into his trap again, and going through all this again would kill you.

“I-” he paused, like he was gathering his thoughts. You thanked whatever god was out there that he didn’t make you face him. “I knew you were here, I just- I wanted you to have time to yourself, but, Y/N, it’s time to come home now.”

Your lips quivered as you struggled to hold the tears. He made it sound like this was a game, and maybe to him it was, but it wasn’t like that for you. This wasn’t a break that you’d just “come back” from; you were done, you promised yourself that.

You shook your head, but Klaus spoke before you could even utter your protests. “I can break my curse.” Your eyes involuntarily went wide, not having expected that. You were just about to spin around, but he turned you first. As soon as your eyes met his, you couldn’t help the tear that fell down your face.

It was like you forgot how beautiful he could be.

He looked to be having somewhat of the same reaction as you, scanning over you as if couldn’t tell that you were real. And honestly, you even felt like pinching yourself, too.

His voice got softer. “There’s a girl in Virginia, the doppelgänger.” He paused to let you say something, but you were so taken aback by everything that’d happened after you stepped into your apartment that you were practically speechless. How ironic. You’d spent months agonizing over all you’d say to him if you ever saw him again, but now that you were, you had nothing to say.

“I am so close, Y/N,” he whispered. His hands cupped your cheek so gently that a stranger would’ve never guessed that this man had destroyed entire villages, that he even destroyed you, too. When he rested his forehead on yours, the tears that you were trying so hard to hold in came falling like your eyes were a waterfall. “I can- I can wake the rest of the family. Rebekah, Kol, Finn- I know how much you miss them all.”

Your heart tightened in your chest because you did miss them, but you forgot just how much you missed him.

“We can be a family again, Y/N.” You screwed your eyes shut. Your husband was a smart man. Whether the tears in his eyes were real or if he was just a great actor, you couldn’t be sure, but he knew exactly what your weak-spots were and he was using them against you.

This wasn’t fair, you thought. This wasn’t fair at all.

“Please, let us be a family again.” You opened your eyes, biting your lip to prevent the sobs from escaping. “I love you.” Oh, you should’ve kept your eyes closed. You should’ve sped out the door the second you saw him. You should’ve ran farther, tried harder to disappear so that he would’ve never found you.

But none of that mattered.

Because, just like that, you folded.

After a week, you ended up leaving with Klaus. You helped him with his plans to become a hybrid, and he was trying, you could tell he was really trying, but your marriage wasn’t the same. Whenever you kissed him, you couldn’t help but wonder, did she kiss him like this? When you made love, you wondered, was he so tender and loving with her, too? Were you even as special as he told you that you were?

There was only so much trying he could do. You knew the damage was done. You now had insecurities that no amount of sweet words could ever get rid of. You were such a confident woman, but you didn’t feel that way, not anymore.

Your mirror was cracked, sure, but you could still see yourself. You still saw a future, a bright future. You, Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah, Kol, Finn—you could all be a family, just like Klaus told you that day. You could see it.

So you stayed.

Eventually, they were all woken up. For a while, things felt normal, like when you’d been human. But you were starting to learn that good things never lasted long enough.

When Esther came back, she tried to kill you all. You defeated her, as a family, but no matter how hard you tried to convince them, your siblings all left. This family’s broken, Kol said to you. You’d best get out while you can, Y/N.

You should’ve listened to him.

But you didn’t, and you’d later wonder if things would’ve been different. If you took Kol’s offer to come with him, to leave your husband and travel the world, then would you have been happy?

You tell yourself you’d never know, but you knew deep down that you would’ve been happy, that at least you wouldn’t have been devastated.

It was only you and Rebekah; you were the only ones that could stick by Klaus. In that way, you two were one in the same, two sides of the same coin. You’d always be living in the same hell, trying to get to heaven by being loyal to him, but little did you both know, the longer you stayed, the deeper down into hell you went. Until heaven was unobtainable.

For a while, things were okay. You and Klaus were okay—God, you were just getting to okay. And then Kol died.

That took the cake. Nothing you’d ever felt was so painful, not even what your soulmate did to you, or the man who was supposed to be your soulmate.

Suddenly, you were wishing you could turn back time, wishing you could’ve gone with Kol when he asked you to, wishing you could’ve spent more time with him—you just got him back.

After Kol’s death, it was like the idea of a family became unobtainable, too.

You were in pieces, but Rebekah stayed strong. She handled Klaus while you couldn’t, because wasn’t that your job? What else were you here for—what else were either of you here for?

You wanted to kill Jeremy Gilbert, to rip him and Elena to shreds and to make the Salvatores watch. You wanted them to feel even an inch of your pain, but Klaus didn’t let you, and you resented him for it.

The way he behaved after Kol’s death was unforgivable to you, but you were able to see past it because what was his death if it wasn’t a wake up call? You didn’t want to take this life for granted; you didn’t want to wake up one day, regretting not spending time with your husband because he was dead.

So you repaired the bond that was severed after Kol. You held him and he held you just as tight, if not tighter. Neither of you wanted to lose the other. So you worked for it, you worked for something better, you worked to be something like what you were before—to be anything like what you were before.

But, oh, you should’ve known better.

You didn’t walk in on Klaus cheating on you a third time. He confessed to you, tears in his eyes. He begged, and made promises, and begged, and begged, and cried, and cried, and he did the whole routine, but you were silent throughout it all.

You didn’t cry. You felt like your body was out of tears. God knows you’d cried an ocean away for Klaus, for this family, for the family you could’ve had.

You didn’t say anything, but you knew better now. You weren’t gonna run away, you’d learned from your mistakes. Instead, you moved into a different room in the house. The flowers, the jewelry, the sweet words—oh, all of the things that’d made you swoon in the past didn’t faze you. You’d been force-fed so many sweet words that you now had a tooth ache that no doctor could fix.

You didn’t talk to Klaus for weeks, but when the time came, you followed him to New Orleans. You were practically lifeless, but when Klaus brought you into a bar and you were met with the sight of the boy you took in, the boy you thought died, it was like someone took a defibrillator to your chest.

Hugging Marcel for the first time in almost a century was like CPR. Is this a play? you wondered. Is this Klaus’ strategy? But at that moment, it didn’t matter. Once again, you were reminded of Kol. You needed to cherish your loved ones while you still could, and so it didn’t matter if Klaus was using Marcel to get you to crack, you’d appreciate it, anyway.

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that you couldn’t be happy.

When you got to the plantation late at night, the house Klaus insisted you stay in, you were confused to see a brunette woman standing on the stairs.

You furrowed your brows while the woman’s went up. She looked like a deer in headlights. Before you could ask her any questions, your sister came into view. She looked almost as shocked as you.

“Rebekah?”

She ignored you. “You’re here,” she said, surprise lacing her voice and an unknown emotion in her eyes.

“Yes, I am.” You glanced in between Rebekah and the brunette, starting to become unnerved with their expressions. You didn’t know why she was surprised that you were here; it was you who should’ve been surprised at her arrival.

You should’ve known better.

“Elijah- Elijah didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

You only got more confused as she went on. “Elijah’s here?”

She ignored you again, scoffing under her breath, shaking her head at the ground. “My brother’s a fool,” she muttered. And only then did you realize that the emotion in her eyes was pity.

You looked back to the brown-haired woman, instantly realizing why she was looking at you like you were going to attack her. Quickly, you looked away before you actually did. You didn’t say the exact words out loud, but they knew that you knew.

“What is she doing here?” Your voice was sharp; you saw the girl flinch out of the corner of her eye.

When Rebekah looked up at you, you felt your heart drop. She looked at you like you were the last to be let in on the secret, like she knew she was about to single-handedly crush you. Softly, she told you, “Listen.” And so you did.

And then every other time your heart broke felt like nothing. Nothing could compare to the utter shock you felt, the pain. Because you heard a little heartbeat, and you knew the implication Rebekah was making.

You looked up to the girl to see that she was about to cry. That almost made you lose it. Who was she to cry? you thought.

You looked at Rebekah to see tears in her eyes, too. “How?” You asked, but she didn’t get a chance to reply.

“Niklaus is a hybrid, Y/N.” You turned to see Elijah slowly walking into the room. He looked careful, almost, like anything he said could set you off. “He’s not a full vampire-”

“And she’s human,” you cut him off, humourlessly chuckling. The human girl gave him a baby.

You couldn’t help but wonder, if you had a baby while you were human, would your marriage have ended up this way?

But none of that mattered. Right now, it felt like nothing mattered. Just as you thought there was nothing more Klaus could do to you, he gets his one night stand pregnant. Now she wasn’t so much of a one night stand anymore, was she?

Your siblings were looking at you like you were a china doll, like their brother had just thrown you and they were waiting for you to break. But your face was blank. On the inside, however, there was an entire hurricane taking place, but it was like your body refused to release any of it. Oh, you wanted to break down, you wanted to so badly, but it felt impossible.

There was nothing more to say- nothing you cared to hear, anyway. So you slowly walked up the stairs, heading for a guest room, ignoring Rebekah and Elijah’s calls. The blonde started crying, and if you’d looked down, then you would’ve seen Elijah burning a hole into the ground with his gaze.

You didn’t want to look at either of them, especially not your husband’s right hand man. You were growing to resent Elijah, even though there was a time when you were the best of friends. Maybe if he hadn’t brought you back to Klaus that day in 1996, then you could’ve been spared this horrible, horrible feeling. But no. Any relationship you had with a Mikaelson was trumped by the relationship they had with Klaus.

Of course, they were here, you thought. Of course, they come running back to him the second he does something stupid.

But how mad at them could you really be?

Haven’t you always been doing the same thing?

After you’d gone up stairs, you could remember popping open an old bottle of whiskey and drinking until your vision was hazy. You couldn’t remember when you fell asleep, but when you awoke, Klaus was right there in bed next to you.

You ignored your thoughts, questioning the nerve of him to get in bed with you after what you’d found out, and walked out of the room.

But you didn’t feel as angry as the night before. You felt numb, almost. The last time you felt so empty was after your parents died a thousand years ago. It didn’t necessarily bother you, though. Feeling nothing felt better than feeling everything.

So you let it be. You showered, got dressed, and left the house. Rebekah and Elijah stared at you as you left, but you didn’t give them the time of day. You went and met Marcel for breakfast like everything was fine, went shopping, then you came back home and climbed into bed. When you woke up, Klaus was there again, but you ignored it and continued with your routine.

For three weeks, you didn’t say a word to your husband. He could barely even try to speak to you; you were gone all day everyday and you were asleep by the time he came home. Rebekah would try to make conversation whenever she saw you, but she only received short answers. Elijah didn’t even try; something told you he felt guilty, and you hoped he did. The pregnant werewolf whose name you learned was Hayley would tense up every time you crossed paths. Once, she tried to apologize to you, but it was as if she were talking to a wall because you didn’t give her the slightest bit of attention.

While you weren’t communicating with the people you lived with, when you went out into the Quarter, you were a different person. You were lively, and confident, and funny, and you didn’t look like a woman whose husband cheated on her. Marcel was constantly introducing you to people; you were always surrounded by people, and while you felt so alone at first, as time progressed, you stopped feeling so lonely.

Suddenly, it was like that hole in you started to heal. The hole was still there, but it was getting better.

One day, one of your new friends introduced you to this boy, this young, newly turned boy. And, looking at him, you felt something other than despair: you felt like you were human again. Talking to him made you feel things that you forgot existed, things Klaus used to make you feel on a daily basis.

This boy was good. He was pure, and happy, and full of life, even though he was dead.

It felt wrong at first. Klaus was the only man you had ever been with. But perhaps that was why you liked this boy so much: he reminded you of a side of your lover that had been long dormant, the side of Klaus you fell in love with.

You never slept with him. You never even kissed him. All you did was feel something.

But that didn’t matter.

Oh, you should’ve known better.

So much better.

You opened the door, your bag immediately falling to the ground at the sight you were met with. “No- no, no, no.” You sped into the living room, falling to your knees. Your tears fell with you.

In front of you, the sweet, sweet boy you were starting to feel something for was lying dead in his own apartment. You wished it wasn’t real, but his body was grey, veins all over him. With the hole in his chest, he didn’t look so peaceful anymore.

You cupped your hand over your mouth in shock, silently sobbing. You were so distraught that you didn’t even notice the footsteps behind you.

“I ripped his heart out.” You turned your head to see none other than your husband standing a few feet away from you, the red organ in his hand. While your vision was blurred, you could still see the quiet anger on his face, even though he seemed emotionless. He dropped Leo’s heart on to the ground like it was nothing.

Suddenly, a fire that you thought died out alit in your body. You all but sneered, “What is wrong with you?”

Klaus humourlessly chuckled. It was almost like you couldn’t recognize him, but oh, he had never looked more like himself. “What’s wrong with me?” He echoed. “What’s wrong with me is my wife has been sneaking around behind my back.”

You scoffed in utter disbelief and shot up from the ground. “Oh, so I’m the villain now? I’m sorry, saint Klaus, I didn’t know you were so innocent.”

“Don’t start this with me.”

You snapped. “You started this! I have been living in that house with you and your pregnant werewolf, leaving you to your own devices, but the second I try to be happy, I’m the one in the wrong?”

“Y/N-”

“No, I- I can’t even believe what I’m hearing right now.” A laugh escaped from your lips, full of darkness. “I have not done any damage to this marriage.” You pointed at him. “You’re the one who broke your vows, not me. Forgive me for wanting to clutch at any happiness I could have after you took it all from me.”

Klaus pointed right back at you. “Our marriage isn’t over, Y/N- it will never be. I will never let you forget that.”

You shook your head. “This isn’t a marriage anymore.” Klaus’ mouth opened to protest, but you kept going. Everything you held in and didn’t say was coming up like bile in your throat that you desperately wanted to vomit. “You have destroyed this marriage, Klaus! Hell, you destroyed me.” You pointed to yourself, more tears coming to your eyes. “You have cheated not once but three times, and you got the last one pregnant! But the second I- what? The second I so much as talk to a man, you go and rip his heart out and get mad at me? Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

His jaw clenched, and maybe there was some sign of regret or remorse in his eyes, but you honestly couldn’t care less about his feelings at the moment. “Y/N-” he started, but you didn’t dare let him finish.

“No, it’s you who threw a thousand years down the drain, not me.” You took a step closer to him until you were chest to chest and you were looking right into his eyes. Maybe this would’ve ended in a kiss in the past, but your relationship was no longer the same. You grit your teeth.“I will never let you forget that.”

You then sped out of the apartment, running and running and not stopping until you were in an area you no longer recognized. Once you stopped, you let all of your tears fall, resting a hand on your chest and running the other through your hair. Your heart and your head were both pounding. Every time you thought Klaus couldn’t go any lower, he proved you wrong.

So, standing in the middle of nowhere, you grieved the loss of that poor boy, and at the same time, you grieved the loss of the man who was once your best friend. You grieved the loss of your marriage.

Because this was more than just killing a boy.

In doing this, Klaus killed another part of your marriage when you weren’t sure there was even anything left to kill.

After crying your heart out, you returned to the plantation and went straight to sleep. For a week, you stayed in bed, in spite of Rebekah who came knocking on your door every morning. One time, she didn’t leave so quickly after you remained mute. She sat on your bed, demanding that you eat something. When, throughout all her best efforts, you stayed silent, she threw the glass of blood onto the ground, breaking down and sobbing. Tears ran down her face as she pleaded to you, but you only stared at the wall, expressionless.

She apologized to you in between in her tears, even though it wasn’t her fault, even though you were only this way because of Klaus. But, oh, wasn’t that Rebekah’s specialty? Wasn’t that yours—stuck paying for the sins of the hybrid for the rest of your lives?

She cried, and cried, and cried, until she eventually left the room, too exhausted to keep dancing the same dance. She didn’t come back again.

You never cleaned the blood on the floor from the glass she threw. If anything, you hoped it soaked in and ruined the mahogany floors of this god awful house. It wasn’t long before you wouldn’t have to stare at that stain anymore because Klaus had come to tell you that you were leaving. You’d all be going to the Abattoir, he said.

You were confused; that was where Marcel stayed. So, for the first time in a week, you spoke. When you found out about the altercation they had, you recoiled. Both disgust and shock were on your face: disgusted at your husband’s behaviour and shocked with how he was treating Marcel.

You felt like screaming at him, but you didn’t have enough energy. Instead, you just stared at him. With your voice just barely above a whisper, you told him, That is your son, Klaus. You hoped that conveyed everything else you wanted to say. And you knew your message was received when Klaus walked out of your room without another word.

When you arrived at the compound, little changed. You and your husband still didn’t talk. Soon, when your siblings arrived, you didn’t speak to them either. Life went on this way for a long time.

Until Hayley gave birth.

Oh, life had felt so slow, but suddenly it started moving so fast.

When you first laid your eyes on little Hope, tears came to your eyes. She looked just like her father, you thought. And while you had never wanted anything to do with this, what Klaus had done, you couldn’t find it in yourself to condemn an innocent child.

Maybe Rebekah and Elijah would pay for their brother’s mistakes. Maybe you would, too. But you’d be damned if you let that baby suffer solely for being a Mikaelson.

Even if it meant you’d suffer the most.

The night Klaus came to you, you didn’t greet him, but you didn’t look at him so scathingly, either. In the courtyard, he asked something of you that’d change the rest of your life.

“Y/N, I know we’re not on the best of terms- I know I haven’t been a faithful husband, nor a good one,” he admitted, glancing down as if he were nervous before looking back up to your eyes. This was serious, and he wanted you to know that. “I know you don’t deserve this, and I know you never signed up for this. But I need your help.”

You straightened your shoulders. Whatever he was going to say, it looked like it physically pained him to say it. You wondered if this speech was inspired by Elijah, but you diverted your thoughts away from that. This wasn’t about your marriage; this was about something more important.

“You’re the only person I trust enough to do this, the only person I can really ask. It’s wrong of me to put this pressure on you after everything I’ve done, but I wouldn’t be asking if this weren’t so dire- you have to believe me.” He grabbed onto your hands, and you let him, even though it made you want to die, because when your skin made contact, you felt his hands tremble.

“Hope can’t be here; it’s not safe. The people of this city now know she is my weakness, and they will do anything to spite me, you’ve seen it firsthand.” You knew exactly what he was referring to: the day the witches tried to kill her. At the thought, you tensed. You saw tears gather in his eyes. “Please, I need her not to be here right now-”

You cut him off, almost in a state of awe as you realized what this was all about. “You need them to think she’s dead.” Your voice was breathy, like you’d just finished running a marathon, and wasn’t that what life was like in this family? With the Mikaelsons, no matter how powerful you all were, you’d always be running from something, fighting something. That couldn’t happen to Hope- not now, not yet. And so, without so much as another thought, you agreed, “I’ll do it.”

“Y/N-”

“No, Klaus, I’m doing this.” For the first time since you got to New Orleans, he saw a spark in your eye that you both thought had been extinguished. “I’ll take her, and I will protect her with my life.”

After that, he just stared at you for a few seconds. And for a moment, you as you held eye contact, you caught a glimpse of the man you fell in love with. For a moment, it almost felt like everything was alright, like he never cheated and like you never left. For a moment, the world stopped, and it was just you and him against the world.

But you knew better now.

You were startled when your husband suddenly embraced you tightly as if he never wanted to let you go. And then you realized how you couldn’t remember the last time you’d hugged. So, after a few seconds, if not just for the sake of it, you hugged him back. Although he quietly stammered his next words out, he still said them with more sincerity than you’ve heard from him in a long time. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You knew he was referring to more than just what he was asking of you. But, oh, you knew better now.

“I know.”

Not long after you and Klaus had that conversation, you took Hope. For the first time since you met her that day and found out she was pregnant, you actually talked to Hayley. Her eyes widened, like she couldn’t believe it. You told her that this didn’t make you two friends, but you also promised her that you’d look after her daughter.

She thanked you after a beat of silence, and then you and Hope disappeared.

You were gone for a while until your family’s drama eased up and you got the okay to come back to the Quarter. In that time, Hope’s parents missed their daughter’s first Christmas and also her birthday. But you made sure to take all the pictures you could. Even with the way you felt about them both, you weren’t gonna let those feelings get in the way of their relationship with Hope.

Their family, rather. When you returned, you realized that this was no longer your family. Eating dinner with them your first night back only proved that to you. This baby had changed all of you. You no longer knew your husband, and he no longer knew you.

When you first arrived to the compound, Klaus and Hayley came rushing to hug their little girl. The hybrid mouthed a thank you to you as he rubbed Hope’s back, tears in his eyes. The hostility you’d shown him from when he confessed he cheated on you all the way until just before you left New Orleans was gone. You couldn’t find it in you to be hostile as you watched him hold his daughter. In that moment, he was more than the man who betrayed you; he was a father who had been separated from his daughter.

That didn’t mean you forgave him, but you were trying to get there—for Hope.

Rebekah and Elijah showed up not a minute later. The blonde cooed at Hope while Elijah walked toward you, enveloping you in a hug that you couldn’t deny. You were worn out, and all you’d wanted this past year was to not be alone. But, deep down, you knew these efforts were futile. Things with your siblings would never be the same.

Rebekah had once been your best friend, but she was Klaus’ little sister first. Elijah was like an older brother to you, but he was Klaus’ first. The only person who could’ve possibly understood the way you were feeling was Kol, and he was long gone.

So, even as you stood in a room full of people, you still felt just as alone as when it’d only been you and Hope.

However, your epiphany didn’t matter. Maybe if it weren’t for Hope, you would’ve left and never turned back. Maybe you could’ve gone out and tried to find yourself, tried to be that same girl you were starting to like when you left Klaus in 2006. But Hope was there, and so you knew you couldn’t go anywhere. You had to stay with your family, even if they weren’t really your family anymore, because you just had to be there. You needed to protect Hope. You needed to keep Elijah from handling everything, and you needed to keep your little sister from spinning out. You needed to be there for Klaus to fall back on if he needed to, not for him, but to make sure he could be the best father he could possibly be to Hope.

To you, it wasn’t a choice. You needed to do this.

After all, didn’t you promise always and forever?

So, you stayed. You took care of Hope and took care of Klaus when Rebekah couldn’t take it anymore. It was almost as if your once other half and you had a silent agreement. He never tried anything, not even so much as holding your hand, but you were there for him as a friend, even though it broke your heart.

The two of you never officially ended things. Part of you wondered if maybe he thought you would get back together one day, but now you knew better than to ever expect anything like that. Yes, you would stay in the compound. And yes, you would take care of Hope. And yes, you would play nice with the mother of his child. But you were no longer Klaus and Y/N Mikaelson.

You were just Klaus and Y/N.

You never went out with another boy again. It was pointless, and you never wanted to fall for someone again if this was what love felt like, if it only ever brought you pain.

For years, things went this way. There were a few threats here and there, but they were taken care of every time. Hope was the most loved child in the world. She was starting to grow up, and so she was also starting to realize that her parents weren’t together. She was starting to realize that her father looked at the woman that’d been there all her life with a look of warmth in his eyes. She was starting to ask you questions that you didn’t know how to answer, questions you weren’t prepared to answer.

So, on Christmas Eve, after everyone had went to bed, you unscrewed the oldest bottle of liquor you had. You were originally saving it for a celebratory occasion, but you, too, were starting to realize things. You were starting to realize that, perhaps, the celebration would never come.

So you sat on the couch in the courtyard in front of the fireplace, unfazed by the cold. The Christmas tree diagonal to you glimmered and gleamed, but you were no longer so magnetized to it. Something in the last few years had taken away bits and pieces of your spirit until you were no longer sure it was even there anymore.

You took a swig of the wine, indulging in its bittersweetness as you stared straight into the fire, not caring if it’d blind you. For the first time since you turned, you loathed your immortality. At first, you looked at it like a blessing, something that’d give you an eternity with your family, an eternity to travel the world and enjoy all it had to offer you.

But now it was just a curse.

Just as you took another swig, you heard footsteps behind you, and suddenly the couch dipped, someone else sitting right beside you.

You could immediately tell who it was just from the mere grace of his actions. Elijah. You glanced at the nobleman, almost scoffing at his attire. Past midnight, and yet he was still in a suit.

Your voice was raspy as you remarked, “No rest for the wicked, huh?” Elijah sighed as you passed the bottle to him. For a second, you thought he’d scold you for not using a glass, but instead he took a large gulp straight from the bottle.

“It seems that way, Y/N,” he said, passing the bottle back to you. You chuckled, but there wasn’t much humour in your tone. He didn’t ask you why you were awake, nor did you ask him. You just sat together in front fireplace, passing the bottle back and forth. You didn’t know if you were both so silent because of how tired you were or if it was because your relationship had just become that fragile.

Sitting there, no Saint Nick came by in a magic sled. There were no reindeer, or bells, or snow. There was no magic to this holiday for you anymore, and you wondered if Elijah felt the same way. You wondered if he was as tired as he looked right now, as tired as you felt. If he was, then you couldn’t help but feel bad for him because, even though you had felt resentment for him, you wouldn’t wish this on anybody.

Still though, you wondered if you’d be sitting there if Elijah just let you go that day. You wondered how things would’ve turned out if he let himself go, too.

Like he was reading your mind, he suddenly turned to you and whispered, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” You turned to face him. While he looked serious, he looked more broken than you’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry I brought you back to him that day. I’m just now realizing that I’ve never apologized to you before.” You stared at him silently, and so he continued, looking back to the fire. “You could have been happy, and I took that opportunity away from you. So I am sorry.” He paused, like he was debating on saying something, a glazed look in his eyes as he lightly muttered, “More sorry than you’ll ever know.”

For what felt like forever but was really just a minute, you didn’t say anything. You, too, turned back to the fire, biting your lip as you tried to articulate what you wanted to say. “I think… I think, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.” You saw him turn back to you out of the corner of your eye, but you didn’t look back. You didn’t know if you could say this while looking at him. “I think it would’ve ended up like this, anyway. I was his wife, not his keeper, but that didn’t matter. My love for him would’ve always made me stay and look after him, even though it kills me inside, even though I think I died a long time ago.” You swallowed. “My mother used to tell me to watch how boys treat me, but Nik wasn’t just any boy. I was so enthralled by the beauty of the fire that I didn’t care if I’d get burned- God, I just wanted to feel warm.” Unknowingly, a tear fell down your cheek. At that moment, you turned to your brother to see him watching you intently. You shook your head, giving him a small smile. “It wasn’t your fault, Elijah, it was mine. I should’ve known better.”

At that, you got up, leaving the bottle with Elijah, and you walked back to your room. You didn’t sleep that night, but when Hope came running into your room in the morning, screaming that Santa came, you pretended to be asleep so that she could wake you.

You sat through the opening of presents, Elijah looking at you differently than before. And you’d sit through multiple Christmases after this one.

No matter how much it hurt you or how it unhealthy it was, you knew you were locked in now, and you threw away the key ages ago. You couldn’t get off this ride, not even if you tried to.

Maybe, if you didn’t let Klaus pull you back in time and time again, then you wouldn’t be stuck. But you did, and now all you could do was just sit and let the roller coaster run its course, no matter how sick it made you or how many tears would leave your eyes when no one was watching.

Now, you’d be here always and forever. But you still couldn’t help but think-

You should’ve known better.

Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade

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mono-dot-jpeg · 1 year

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the tiny exception - express crew

summary; there's only one exception to the few rules that the express crew have...

genre/extra tags; fluff, family dynamics, pompom is the softest rabbit thing in the universe i love them, papa welt (real), auntie himeko iykyk, the rest of the gang are the siblings, caelus learns abt the world with you :'), your honor they're just trash raccoons, selective mute! caelus

[platonic] [child (7-9)! reader]

[warnings; reader implied to have a tough life before getting taken in, trash digging mentioned/j]

word count; 608

a/n; whoops i made another hsr fic and it's another family fic :) im watching blue lock rn and it's definitely passed some expectations and i like it so far so that's good, there's some silly little guys i like (it's the crazies unsurprisingly) maybe i'll write something to test the waters for blue lock. this show wildin tho

i use caelus for hsr so im writing caelus, sorry stelle enjoyers

[rule 1; no touching pompom]

caelus learned that one after attempting to comfort the conductor. and yet,

"you're so squishy, pompom!" a pure as snow giggle rings in the train as the trailblazer watches you cuddle pompom. "so fluffy!"

"oi! don't hug me too hard!" they squirm, trying to loosen your grip.

"sorry!" you smile innocently as you look up to see the silver-haired trailblazer, watching you. "hey caelie!" you let go of pompom, running straight to him.

he's quick to pick you up as you stretch your own arms out towards him. he looks at you with curious eyes and then glances at pompom who is cleaning their uniform.

"i wanted to hug pompom! and i did!" you cheered. it earns you a silent chuckle from caelus. much to pompom's relief, he takes you away and to the passenger rooms.

[rule 2; don't drink mr. welt's coffee]

that rule was interesting. it was set because of you really. you tried the coffee once and almost cried. turns out you can't handle the bitter taste unsurprisingly.

"i know you're gonna do it, y/n." you freeze in his lap as welt continues to answer caelus's questions on the phone.

"but what if it tastes different?"

"it's still coffee, dear." you rest your cheek on welt's shoulder, face squished as you stare at the cup of dark liquid. welt doesn't say anything after that, a gentle sigh leaving his lips.

"did auntie himeko make it?"

"no, she didn't."

"then it will taste different." you reason but it doesn't sway the tired father figure. you reach to take a sip. you look up at welt as if expecting the male to stop you but he doesn't.

he knows. he knows what's going to happen and he's not going to stop it. (he does have a different drink on hand, ready for you.)

you take a sip.

and you cry. "papa!" he sets your favorite drink down, moving the coffee towards him. "why do you drink that?!" he guides your favorite drink towards you and you immediately drink it.

"i drink it because i like it."

"you have bad tastes, papa." you stick your tongue out at him.

"and yet you keep drinking it every time."

[rule 3; sleep on time!]

another rule in place for you. did you ever follow it? sometimes.

but you were only a kid.

"but i don't wanna sleep!" you tugged onto dan heng's clothes as if he would help.

he does not.

"you need to sleep. you're going to be all sleepy in the morning."

"but i want to stay with you guys!" dan heng picks you up into his slightly awkward hold. "please?" you drag out your pleas in hopes of convincing your older brother figure to let you stay up with the trio.

"sorry, y/n. but i don't think welt would allow that."

"but i'm not ti.. tired!" you yawn between your last word, your hands reaching to rub your eyes.

"you totally are, y/n." march cooed, taking you from dan heng's arms. "let's get you to himeko or welt, hm?" the trio is gentle to bid you a goodnight and a pat on the head (and kiss on the cheek from march) while you're taken to rest with himeko.

"there's the sweetie. awh, you must be exhausted." you're laying in himeko's arms, feeling sleepy with her warmth wrapped around you. "thank you march, have a good time with the others." march waves her goodbye before leaving with the trailblazer and dan heng.

"but i wanna go..." you frown, twisting and turning in the redhead's arms.

"how about you spend sometime with me, welt, and pompom before bed?" himeko suggests.

"are we gonna read some stories?"

"we'll let you pick."

"okay."

you fell asleep about 3 minutes later before you could even hear a story.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai x reader #hsr welt #welt yang x reader #welt yang #caelus x reader #hsr caelus #dan heng x reader #himeko x reader #march 7th x reader

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littlelambscandyland · 10 days

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Baby Flower

Yandere Platonic Cg!Batfam x Little!Fem!Reader

"Bubba tree!" The girl shouts.

Arms crossed over pouting in pale pink. Her legs hung loosely around the man's broad waist.

"No, princess, you know you can't go out there…" He replies softly.

Guilt was evident on his face. Wanting to take his little sister outside. Rules were rules. Jason knew if he were to disregard Bruce's orders when it came to her safety he'd have hell to pay. Jason also knew that it wasn't safe even walking her through the manors yard. They were keeping her safe even if it made her angry.

Speaking of which, she was trying to wring herself out of his grip. Crying loudly and writhing in his hold. Pleas falling as fast as the thick tears. Streaks striking against pink cheeks.

Jason sighs heavily. The guilt eating at his will. He holds her a bit tighter. "I know" falling out of his mouth as quick as her cries.

"Bubba! Bubba!" She calls angrily.

His hands taking over her back. His red shirt is darkened with her tears. Her smaller hands pull on the shirt a desperate struggle to get what she wants.

"C'mon doll… It's not that bad. I know you want to go outside but it's not safe." He tells her sadly.

Jason walks away from the window. The view clearly proved too much for the little. Her cries still sounded through the decorated halls. Her strength proves nothing compared to his.

"Aww, what happen to our baby?" Dick coos out the question.

Dick comes quickly across the living area. His hands out to take her from a seemingly very anxious Jason.

"No no no!" She shouts.

Her hands wring into the taller man's shirt. She rocks angrily in his arms. Jason sighs in defeat, slouching slightly with the toll of guilt. Dick looks a mixture of hurt and confusion.

"What happened?" He asks, irritated.

"She wants to go outside." A new voice spoke.

Dick turns as Tim makes his way into the room. A bat plushie tucked under his arm, a pacifier in hand, and a tablet in his other. The pacifier has straps to keep it on for when she "acts up".

"Saw them on the cameras." Tim spoke, holding up the tablet.

"I don't think she's giving up this time…" Jason mentions.

"That's why Alfred already put her medicine on it." Tim responds pointedly.

"Our poor baby bat." Dick pouts.

She tries to turn her head off when Tim brings the pacifier to her lips, but Jason holds her face to it. She cries and screams as they lock the straps over her head.

Her arms swing, but do little damage. Her face is pink and wet. None of the three men seemed happy with the current situation. They all knew that she would cling on to any of the others as soon as she'd see them. Her pettiness shining through even when small.

Their knowledge is proven when Cass and Duke walk into the room. The small girl immediately whines out and reaches out for the two. Trying with all her might, which was slowly diminishing with the medicine.

Cass perks up instantly, a smile breaking gracefully across her face. She comes over and easily steals the girl from Jason's arms. The tiny girl latches onto her. Burying her wet face into her black shirt.

"What happened sweetheart?" Duke asks softly.

His hand lands softly on her back, rubbing soothing circles. Had the three painted a perfect picture, even with the smaller girl's tears. Of course none of them took that for granted as Dick had already pulled out his camera and taken a picture of the three.

Tim explained the girl's breakdown, or as he explained her "tantrum. Duke coos out at her. Reaching out to hold her hand as she reaches out to him.

"Your big siblings are just so mean aren't we?" Duke smiles pitifully at her.

Cass giggles slightly and nods her head. Both trying to make the situation seem less important to your small mind. She nods with them, but she means it in a more serious sense. Her tears have stopped falling, however her pout remains firm.

"What, is there a party in the living room or something? Were we not invited?" Steph jokes as she walks into the room.

"Clearly, Brown, pup is upset." Damien says irritation leaking from his voice.

"Chill out Damien. None of us did anything, she just wanted to go outside." Jason says equally annoyed.

Damien narrows his eyes. Steph coos just like everyone before her had. The smaller girl was rather calm now despite her pout. The medicine took its toll on her and calmed her down almost to the point of making her fall asleep.

Everyone decided to chill in the room for the time being, just in case she got ornery. Jason grabbed a book, Tim worked on his tablet, Duke and Dick chose to play a movie, and Steph and Cass talked and held you softly.

An hour passed and Damien seemed to have reappeared. He has a small bag in his arms, and he walks with determination flashing in his eyes. Dick greets him and Tim asks what he's doing. For once, Damien ignore both men and walks up to the girl.

Her eyes light and incredible exhaustion. It was obvious despite how little she was she was still aware of the danger she was in. They'd kidnapped her so long ago and even when she regresses she seems to hold onto some of her grown-up fears.

They all hold hopes that one day their little sister will let go of her old life and be the precious love they know she passed down. She still let them be there when she was little just not when she wasn't it broke their hearts every time.

It was obvious she was trying to fight her regression. She was slowly slipping out despite their efforts. She was also trying to stay awake.

Damien took notice of the stress in the room despite the faux calming atmosphere. He motions for Cass to scoot over and she obeys easily. He took his place right next to her.

"You're still upset about not being able to go outside." Damien says factually.

She cuddled with her bat with Steph on her other side. Damien brings the bag closer to his feet.

"These perhaps won't do much to make you less angry, however I'm certain these are what you wanted to see." He mentions searching through the bag.

The first thing he pulls out of the bag is a branch of hydrangeas opulent blooms. Purple and blue petals immediately catch the girl's eye. Whispering out a quiet awe at the flower. She reaches out with one hand while keeping her bat plush snuggled close in her other. Her fingers gently skim the petals and her eyes glow with fascination.

“Would you like to hold it, pup?” Damien asks her sweetly. She nods her head vigorously. Excitement overtakes her features. She sits up more and takes the flowers with care. Her smile widens, and she brings them close to her face to smell them.

“Did you seriously bring flowers from the garden?” Tim asks.

“Clearly none of you were going to do anything, Drake.” Damien answered curtly.

“Kinda glad he did,” Jason said. “She already seems a lot happier now.”

“Yeah, and just look at how cute she is with them!” Steph says brightly.

“I am a little worried…” Dick pushes out. “What if she’s allergic?”

“We have plenty of medicine for that. Think of how happy she is and how many pictures we can get.” Duke says pointing towards the smiling girl.

Damien turns his attention back to the girl and holds out more flowers this time light-pink roses. He’d deliberately taken off the stems leaving just the flower heads for the girl to hold. She reacts positively, grabbing at them quickly so she could feel the soft petals.

Despite his plan to give her them one at a time so she doesn’t get overwhelmed, she noticed his bag and was actively trying to steal it away. The room was filled with giggles and smiles as Damien slightly raised the bag and poured flowers on the girls lap. Her face lit up and she bounced slightly in joy as white rosebuds, baby's breath and love in a mist all flowed swiftly in her lap.

She squealed in joy. Picking up every flower and messing with it. Duke was right as they’d gotten quite a few pictures of her playing with the flowers. Even more photos were taken when after playing in the plants she allowed herself to relax enough to fall asleep, surrounded by the blossoms.

As much as they wished to take her outside, the family knew it was their job to protect her. Whether that need to protect grew into obsession and paranoia, well they would never say, but they wouldn’t let a single thing hurt her. No matter what they had to do.

~~~Notes (Flower Meanings)~~~

Love in a Mist symbolizes being perplexed by someone and openness to love

Light-Pink Roses symbolize platonic love

Hydrangeas Opulent Blooms symbolize familial love

White Rosebuds symbolize sibling love more particularly sisterly love

Baby's Breath symbolize everlasting familial/brotherly love

#age regression #age regressor #little space #yandere agere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfamily #platonic yandere batfam x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x batsis #yandere Batfam x reader #platonic Batfam x reader

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animeyanderelover · 14 days

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Anon: May I request Platonic Mukamis with a little sister?

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, overprotective behavior, clinginess, delusional mindset, isolation, manipulation, threats, self-harming tendencies

Little sister

None of the Mukami brothers are related by blood yet their bond surpasses that of even siblings who are related. They have been sticking together ever since they found each other and fought for their survival in the unforgiving world. They find you when you are but a mere baby, a few months old at best, left behind in a side street as if you are disposable trash. Whilst Yuma and Ruki show some hesitation as they don't know how capable they will be to provide for you, especially since you are so young and dependent, Kou and Azusa are immediately enraptured when you look at them with innocent doe eyes. Azusa even starts crying as he begs his older brothers to take you in and ultimately Ruki gives in to his pleas. It is always difficult but they try their best to cater to your needs as good as they can and even give you a name after a lot of small arguments about what name fits you best. Your wellbeing is prioritised over even their own as your presence is like rays of sunlight, warm and welcoming. When Karlheinz offers to transform them, all of them immediately take the offer as they realise that this is their chance to give you the treatment that you deserve.

Ruki Mukami

📘Even if Ruki has expressed his doubts when the four brothers found you back when they were still humans, he has grown into the role of your oldest brother. Perhaps even a little bit too well. The fact that he didn't immediately want to take you under their care when you were still a baby is something he hides from your knowledge even so many years later and he has urged his brothers to do the same. He fears that if you were to ever find out about his initial hesitance, you would turn your back on him and favor his younger brothers over him. He takes immense pride in the fact that he is your oldest brother as he likes to treat it as if it would give him some special rights in comparison to his younger brothers. Those special rights include making most of the decisions for you as he claims that as the oldest he naturally has the most experience and knows what would be best for you in every situation of your life. If you have anything that worries you, Ruki encourages you to seek him out. He is the one who oversees your homeschooling as his brother and him have all agreed that attending school with humans is far too dangerous for you. He can teach you all you need to know.

📘From all of your brothers, Ruki is the one who places the most restrictions on you, even as you grow older. His motivations lie largely within his paranoia and his overprotective tendencies because even if you are a half-vampire just like them, he can't stop himself from still seeing that little, toothless baby in you that smiled whenever she saw his face. It is only natural for you to grow older and more independent yet Ruki finds himself despising that process as he worries that one day you may intend to leave the mansion and go on your own adventures. You are his little light and you have always been and he has always been your big brother and intends for you to continue thinking that way. He is quite adamant on family events where all Mukami siblings participate and his brothers have never once rejected that idea because it means spending precious time with their adored, little sister. The happiness you five share is not an illusion and he really wants you to realise that whenever such a family event happens. You could never get the same amount of happiness with anyone else besides them. Do you understand him? It is best and safest for you to always stay with your beloved brothers.

Kou Mukami

🎤From the very first moment your bleary eyes met his own, Kou has known that he would do everything for you and turn into anyone if it meant to keep you and protect you. You are a little princess that deserves the world yet surviving on the streets always meant that he couldn't treat you the way he wanted to. When Karlheinz transformed them and gave them capabilities and riches they could have never dreamt about before, Kou finally could do what he hadn't been able to do before. From the very first day since they started their new life to the current day, your second-oldest brother has never stopped spoiling you absolutely rotten. Whatever you have wanted throughout your life, you have always gotten from him as prices nor rarity of the object you wanted have never mattered to him. Kou is quite playful and he proudly claims that title as your favorite playmate. Whether you want him to play with your puppets with you or want to play hide and seek with him, he has always entertained you. Ruki has reprimanded him already due to the risk he sees in some of the games he plays with you but Kou has always reassured him that he would never allow you to get hurt.

🎤From the first night they took you in though, Kou has always sung for you. It always made his heart swell when you would start crying during the day or night but would slowly calm down the moment he started singing a lullaby for you. It is one memory he greatly bemoans the older you grow and lullabies start being less important to you yet he still sings for you quite often. He composes a lot of songs and many of them he has written for you during his life, soothing melodies and kind words to calm your frightened young mind as you grew up. You still love his voice and his music though and that knowledge fills him with pride and with warmth and he gladly allows you to try to write a song of your own or teaches you how to play an instrument. He finds himself playfully pouting whenever he notices that you prefer spending time with another one of his brothers, he can't help the tinge of jealous he feels whenever he witnesses that sight. He tolerates it though as he knows that Ruki, Yuma and Azusa are mindful of the time they spend with you. Such jealousy always evaporates the moment you compliment him though or tell him how much you love your big brother.

Yuma Mukami

🌱Yuma has his doubts when they initially pick you up because he knows how harsh the environment is that they live in. He has always been tall and physically very strong which allows him to protect those who are important to him. You are still a tiny and fragile baby though. How are you supposed to survive on the streets? Even when Ruki agreed to take you under their care, he still has his doubts. It is the moment he holds you for the first time and you wrap your tiny fingers around one of his that he gathers the determination to defend you till his last breath. After he has been turned into a half-vampire and gained even more physical strength, he has only strengthened that vow in his mind. His tall physical build has always led him to be exceptionally gentle with you, especially when you are still only a small child. A part of him has always been worried that you may be scared of him because of his strength and tall build yet you have never expressed once any anxiety as you always come running to him and stretch your arms out, your large eyes begging him to lift you up and twirl you around. He has never been able to deny those cute eyes of yours, even though he has always been careful.

🌱Whether lifting you up, letting you sit on his shoulders or giving you a piggyback, Yuma has always been the equivalent of a human amusement park for you and this is something he takes pride in. He has been taking you to his garden from a very young age too and you are the only person who has ever gotten away with jumping through his patch without getting chased down angrily by him. He enjoys teaching you how to cater to the needs of a plant and how to tell if the fruits and vegetables are ripe or not. Whatever of the harvest you prefer the most is what he ends up sowing and growing the most in his garden just to watch the excited glimmer in your eyes whenever he informs you that it's time to harvest your favorite fruits and vegetables. You are in general quite isolated from other people yet the few times you are taken out, Yuma is terrifyingly efficient to scare away anyone who looks like they consider to approach you. Very few have the guts to chat with you if he is always right behind you after all. All that frightening strength that could easily crush someone's skull is never shown to you though as Yuma has always been only gentle and careful with you.

Azusa Mukami

🗡️Azusa has been attached to you from the very start, his heart nearly bursting when he found your little form in a basket all alone as your mother has left you behind. He begs Ruki to let them keep you as he fears that no one else would take you in and that you would end up dying lonely and afraid without having ever experienced love and he even bursts out in tears as he pleads to his older brothers. He even volunteers to take care of you all by himself if no one from that would agree to keep you. He has stayed the most attached to you even up until now, although he has been forced to limit the time he spends with you as you grow older and require a bit more privacy. When you were a baby he would always be right next to you or hold you even himself as you fell asleep, his fingers playing with your small ones and he would read bedtime stories to you, always happy when you came running to him with a book clutched in your hands that you wanted him to read to you. The youngest brother of yours often finds himself bemoaning the time when you were so cute and tiny, even if you will forever be his baby sister for him. Sometimes he still asks you if he can read a book to you.

🗡️Whilst his older brothers care for him, Azusa has some self-harming tendencies and they have always been worried that he might set a bad example for you. They care for him and want him to stop because it saddens them to see him like that but they are also afraid that you might pick up on it or would get scared once you are old enough to realise what Azusa is doing. To all of their relief helping to raise you seems to rid Azusa of that unhealthy behavior of his for the most part as he instead dedicates much more time to protect and raise you lovingly. Yet he has some relapses at times, mostly when you have an accident or fall ill. He cares deeply for you so seeing you in any kind of pain induces him with such anxiety that he feels his throat tightening and his vision blurring. In a very twisted sense of wanting to suffer with you, he resorts to grabbing a knife and cutting himself over and over again to show solitude with you. Azusa never tells you the truth behind all the bandages and the band-aids he wears the next time you see him though as all of his brothers have warned him that he might make you feel guilty. Being the reason for your sadness is the last thing Azusa would want.

#yandere diabolik lovers #yandere dl #yandere ruki #yandere ruki mukami #yandere kou #yandere kou mukami #yandere yuma #yandere yuma mukami #yandere azusa #yandere azusa mukami #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #diabolik lovers x reader

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aehtery · 1 month

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Big bro doffy!!

[Authors note: I may be sick so the wc is low but I had so much fun writing this @honeyshiddendesire!!]

Dom!Doflamingo x f!reader, not proofread.

cw:NSFW, incest play, p in v, choking, hairpulling, cheating (reader cheats with doffy.) and breeding with a big ol creampie!!

18+ with dark content, minors & ageless dni.

You and Doflamingo had always maintained a close, friendly relationship with one another, often times those around you would even say you remind them of a set of siblings, which wasn't necessarily incorrect given how overprotective the older man was.

This friendly, caring relationship however abruptly came to a halt the moment you had obtained a boyfriend, which seemed to fall short in Doflamingos eyes, unworthy of having you in any way shape or form.

Given the kind & caring big brother persona he had displayed whenever he was around you, it felt only right to show you what you're actually worth, that you are a gorgeous gem meant to be cherished only by those who know how to properly appreciate it.

It started out so gently, his touch lingering for a bit longer than usual, his gaze wandering upon you more than what you considered the norm.

Yet somehow all of this snowballed into more, and here you were, bent over on his desk, choking out useless pleas as his massive hand tightened around your throat, snuffing any actual words you wished to say out completely.

The speed of his thrusts, the roughness of it combined with his hand gripping your throat was so intoxicating, yet it also felt so horridly wrong.

You shouldn't be here doing this, you had a boyfriend, and the man doing this to you was someone you would consider your own brother, someone who would usually take care of you and make sure you don't make any stupid mistakes.

Each forceful thrust just reminding you of how wrong this is, yet it still felt so horrendously right, his hand eventually unwrapping from your throat, gripping your locks instead and giving them a harsh pull to redirect your gaze toward him.

''Fucked the words outta you already?'' He inquired, his silky voice melting your eardrums.

''Mmh– Big bro, too– big.'' You finally managed to muster out between thrusts, a feigned empathetic expression making its way onto his features.

''Aw, poor little sister can't take it? Do you want your big brother to be gentle?'' He purred out, his hand still gripped tightly onto your hair as you attempted to give him a nod.

However in response to this his thrusts simply sped up, making your pathetic whines grow louder as the sounds of your bodies smacking together echoed throughout the room.

Your body is inching closer to succumbing to the pleasure mingling within you, a tight knot in your stomach loosening up with each hard pump, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix causing a mixture of pleasure & pain to linger deep within you.

''Hmph– 'm gonna cum big bro.'' You whined out loudly, your eyes still glued to one anothers.

''Yeah? Gonna cum on your big brothers cock?'' He mused, still upholding his speed as his hand finally untangled from your hair, gripping onto your hips instead just for some extra leverage.

Your whines got louder with each passing second, heavy breaths escaping Doflamingos lips as he too inches closer to finally releasing himself.

Your legs were quite shaky, your body clenching around him as that knot within finally let itself go all over him.

It took a few more harsh pounds for him to fill you up, a groan escaping his lips as he pulled out of you, a thick trail of his semen immediately dripping out of your aching cunt, leaving a trail down your trembling thighs.

''Fuck, we're disgusting.'' You muttered out between breaths, attempting to stand up but being met with his hand pushing you back into position, a confused expression painting your features.

''Not yet, wanna see myself drip outta you for a bit.'' He spoke as he sat back down onto the chair he had previously pushed back, admiring the pretty mess you two had just created.

''Should leave some bite marks for your boyfriend next time.'' He mumbled, one of his hands gripping onto your ass and spreading you open to have a better look at your juices mixed together, he just couldn't wait to see his pretty little sister swollen with his babies.

#one piece smut #doflamingo x reader #doffy x reader #donquixote doflamingo #op doflamingo #op smut #doflamingo one piece #AnsOPArchive #one piece x female reader

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

Note

Can I have a Yan genderbend of Maleficent? Or the very least in a yandere pletonic relationship with them?

Yandere Genderbend Maleficent x Reader

You couldn’t believe you used to admire your family’s ignorance. You internally screamed as you listened to your family further embarrass themselves. They were so deluded by your great-grandfather’s pact, they had become set in the avarice founded from it.

Long ago your great-grandfather had done the impossible. Defeating the fae army and even reclaiming the fallen land before establishing a functional militia there. Earning those honor-driven fae’s respect made your kingdom one to be praised in legend and stories to come. Some suspected you were a puppet state, and others wondered if you had a secret item that had the fae yielding to you. But you knew the truth. You were the only one who actually devoted time to the archives and private libraries. Actually yearning to know the truth. What you found was a successful mission to show the value of humanity. Your great-grandfather had befriended the young fae responsible for the war and somehow convinced him to explore the intricacies of the kingdom. The kingdom was filled with joy and a general consensus to be good. It sounded like paradise. The letters proved that the great fae thought precisely the same which is why he raised no alarm when he grew close with the prince–your grandfather. This relationship would be scandalous, judging by the letters both were torn between letting them be together. The fae was madly in love easily sharing his devotions with his friend, only for the king to show concern. For he knew his child and believed it would lead to their doom. As the king aged his authority was no longer uncontested and it was easy for his nobles to offer his throne in reward for control of the fae. It wasn’t long before your grandfather returned wings in hand and was crowned as the greatest king to be. It wouldn’t be until that same fae returned to curse your mother that the situation would intensify. The story would tell of the princess cursed to sleep through her own pregnancy and the future king that would slay the dragon that was that revenge-stricken fae.

They thought the body had faded because they had won. They were wrong.

“Oh, King of Fae can’t bygones be bygones?! After all your family and ours were great friends.”

You cringed as the green magic seemed to flare up once again. You bit your tongue, for the time being, your parents were completely oblivious to the friendly relations you continued to nurture with various fae.

“Yeah! What more do you want?! At this rate your just going to keep coming back to scam us or something.”

Your foolish brother piped in. Of course, he wouldn’t be aware of the true nature of the king before him. Nor of the power he possessed. You were lucky he hadn’t sucked the life out of everyone in this room.

“...I need proof of your loyalty to me. Something prized by your people.” Eyes hauntingly green roamed the room before landing on the oldest prince. “Someone precious.”

“Oh heavens! No, please!” Your mother cried leaning into your father who was visibly sweating.

“I’d rather die than give my son to you! Surely there is a gem or item you’d wish from us.”

The fae glowered. “No. Anything I want I can have. Anything I want I can take. Besides you, humans are hardly grasping what I want! Give me your prize!”

Prince Phil opened his mouth in a plea before being interrupted by the clicking of his younger sibling's heels. Poised and focused they easily attracted the attention of everyone in the room. Servants, guards and the royal family alike watched as the youngest royal came closer to the towering fae. If it weren’t for the situation he would have turned up his nose, the little parasite had done nothing but ruin his right to the throne. Not in the official light–his parents had always loved him more: they told him so themselves. But among the guards, the people, the servants, and even assassins had no stronger loyalty than to them. An embarrassment to the one birthed to wear it. He couldn’t stand (Y/n)!

Nonetheless, he watched as they bowed, practically on their knees to the fae distastefully dragging their cape on the ground. A shameful appearance for someone of royal blood; no matter how despicable.

They spoke, “Forgive us, my King. They are unaware of your history with the rulers of this kingdom and in no way are a reflection of the people who revere your existence.”

The green glow that had been permeating off the horned guest seemed to lessen as he watched blankly at (Y/n)’s plea. I could hear the scoldings they no doubt would receive, not to mention the punishments. What would it be? No more horse riding? Banned from the kitchen? Restricted from traveling? Oh, the possibilities were endless…

The fae didn’t speak which allowed (Y/n) to speak once again.

“I fear that my family has not much to spare…but if you’d be willing I offer myself to you.”

“(Y/n)! Speak no more!” Father called with more worry than I expected. But they continued looking into the monster’s glowing eyes as if to manipulate him as they had done with so many others.

“If you’d be willing your Grace, let me be your prize!” Tilting his head he seemed to consider before looking at father who had looked away. His lips opened to speak before another interruption occurred.

“(Y/n) please don’t do this!”

“Master please consider!”

“We’ll go!”

“Yes! Please you mustn’t this kingdom needs ya!”

Many of the lowly servants dropped to their knees calling out from behind the guards who were hardly doing anything to restrain them. Sneering I had half a mind to strike them now but I wasn’t a fool; decorum was important even for the company of a monster.

(Y/n) seemed to falter before continuing to bow to the creature, who tilted his head once more and smiled in amusement.

“I was worried I was being offered a worthless prize…” Withdrawing a clawed hand from his robe he lifted their chin and trembling lips. Smiling devilishly as that green fire around him flared.

“But I realize this is the fabled Shadow Dove, the silent pacifist between our peoples. Continuing to keep the…altruism within your kingdom.”

Father made a grumbled murmur from his beard and Mother looked just as surprised as me. I paid no mind as he made (Y/n) rise with a pull of their hand. He moved around them to step closer to our thrones. I drew my sword ignoring the shaking as I pointed in his direction. He looked to me, monstrous eyes keeping me at a distance he turned to look at father and mother smiling with that horrifying display of teeth. Staff in hand the green flare seemed to spout from the staff in a frightening display.

“I prophesy that when I take your Dove, your kingdom will crumble. From within its own walls your rule will end! From those ashes, I will take your kingdom and the last of your blood will be mine. ” He scoffed as mother shook intensely before mumbling something to himself…”That is if it survives from my own.”

With a slapping gust of wind and a pull of his robe; the only evidence that he was here was the singed marks against the carpet.

____________________________________________________________

As expected, the moment Maleficent left your mother broke into tears attracting the attention of your father and brother. Allowing you to leave quickly; as you were sure the anger behind their fear was bubbling. No doubt they’d somehow take it out on you, even as you were solely responsible for their lives.

“Oh, Master!”

“Do ya really h’ve ta go?”

“Will ya visit?”

Running into the arms of your family you let your shoulders sag. You let your worry show as you confided in them. To think the only people in the castle who were least literate were more aware of how much the monarchy relied on them than the actual people in power. You prepared yourself accordingly, sending letters to nobles, trade partners, and allies. Disclosing all the information so they knew where your country was at. You fiddled with your plume as you debated reporting Maleficent’s prophecy.

*Tap Tap*

You eyed past your pile of papers at the door. Seeing no one you continued to work

*Tap Tap*

You looked up again, with more vigor. You needed to focus on the good of your kingdom.

*Tap Tap*

“Alright, alright. I’m coming “ You began your search of the room looking frantically for the cause. Only to find it past your reflection in the window. You opened it letting the crow with something in its feet fly into your office.

“Well hello there.”

You carefully stroke the corvid as you unwrap the delivery. It was a letter and a vial filled with a liquid that seemed to change color under the light of the fire.

Dearest (Y/n),

In preparation for our marriage, I have sent to you an elixir. It is to ensure good health as the days count down before I come to retrieve you. I am willing to let you do what you will before I collect you. If there should be any circumstances that lead to you not drinking the elixir or otherwise damaging my prize I will speed that process up, with extreme prejudice.

–Maleficent

You eyed said elixir with great suspicion but after flashing a look of question to the—shrugging(?) crow, you downed it. Hacking at the burn that ran from your mouth to your esophagus you staggered onto your office couch. Scratching at the cushions you tried to refrain from screaming at the pain. It felt like your blood was boiling; thankfully your body felt the same and allowed you to fall into pain-numbing sleep.

The crow tilted its head, watching with beady eyes at the shivering human on the couch. Seeing that the human was still breathing the crow set to take off before being interrupted. Harsh knocking led before the door swung open to reveal a man dressed in royal robes. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he stepped towards the couch. He seemed to hesitate before shakily withdrawing the sword from its scabbard, raising it above your sleeping head.

“CAW!”

The corvid call startled the wielder, fearfully returning the sword to its resting place. He looked at the bird with a scoff, making moves to scare it away before stalking out of your office. Seeing as the letter was delivered and its receiver followed instructions, the crow flew away returning to its master.

The following morning, you continued to work having a vague recollection of the delivery. You pressed on, working diligently to organize the kingdom’s assets as best as you could. You held your face in your hands having finally sent your signature on a national ordinance. Preparing for your complete absence was harder than you thought. With the news of your engagement, the people were in a panic: riots, spreading hysteria, and massive scales of evacuation. Thousands of letters from allies and nobles alike begging to go to war instead of your marriage. It was too much for one person to take, especially if you were not nearly as experienced as a certain king should be. Speaking of the failures+ royal family they haven’t made an effort to speak to you. You couldn’t decide whether it was because they blamed you or were finally accepting how little they did on their own.

“Your highness…your parents invited you to dinner?” Your maid spoke unassuredly, if he was befuddled by the notion of inviting someone you live with to eat or that they reached out at all you couldn’t tell. Nonetheless, you accepted, making quick work of the remaining paperwork so that you could finally breathe. Savoring the cobblestone walls you had grown with: cried upon, slept on, dragged your fingers along. Doing the same in your adulthood you fought your tears as you realized how much you’d missed your home and the people maintaining it.

Arriving at the dining hall the king, queen, and their son was already seated digging into their food refusing to pause to acknowledge your entry. You sat at the farthest place setting with nothing on the plate your internally groaned. This was going to be a blood bath. A maid hurried to your side with foods you didn’t like silently apologizing; you deduced this was on purpose as you deadpanned to your family. With nothing but the cacophonous consumption to fill the echoing chamber of the dining hall. Only when you heard the clinking of silverware and the loud sucking of fingers that it seemed they were done.

“Are you not hungry? Are you so fickle that you won’t eat before we drink?” The king jovially chuckled as he wiped his greasy fingers on the vestigial robes your forefathers had worn before. In his laughing, the queen joined in. Phil did not. Instead, he diligently stared at his glass, staying still as he let a maid pour the red wine. You did not join in their laughter even as everyone’s glass was filled, including yours. You eyed the glass suspiciously even as they were already helping themselves to sip.

-DoN’T dRink ThIS-

Whatever that was, you agreed refusing to so much as touch the glass.

The king coughed for attention, raising his refilled glass as he gestured towards you. “Now we toast to the new beginnings that come with the relations beyond!”

The queen clapped to her husband before downing what had to be her third glass, the king downed him, but Phil did not. He seemed to be glaring at the glass as he violently swished the liquid in his glass.

You still didn’t touch your glass even as their contented expressions transformed into nervous looks. Eyes darting from your glass to one another king and queen visibly began to sweat and shift in their seats.

“Uhm (Y/n) dear why don’t you join us for our toast?” The queen nervously chuckled.

“I don’t want to.”

“M-maybe you just don’t want to eat on an empty stomach. Serv-”

“No, I just do not want to drink this.”

In a nervously shared eye contact your parents turned toward you as they fruitlessly pleaded that you drink the wine. All the more reason to believe something was amiss. They continued their desperate pleas as you stood to leave.

“I excuse myself. I have other matters to attend to-”

“No, you don’t!” Phil exclaimed springing from his chair, drawing his sword out, and pointing it at you. You faltered in your route looking to the exit where the guards were posted to see the queen barring the doors. Moving backward with the blade’s tip pointed toward you stopped when you felt the coolness of the wall.

“You’ve sunk your poisoned talons into this kingdom and I’m taking you out of it!” Phil screamed but you screamed right back.

“You idiot! Do you realize if you harm a single hair on my head this kingdom is doomed?! Maybe that wouldn’t have been the case if you had any semblance of the state of the kingdom!”

Your explanation seemed to make him hesitate only for him to come even closer letting the frigidness of the flat side of the blade sit on your neck. You could see the sweat on his brow and your parents working to hold the door. Fearing it is your last opportunity you looked to the narrow windows that showed the faraway lights of the town below and that crow who was sat with another message around its foot. You snapped back to attention as Phil screamed once more.

“Aaagh! Y-you couldn’t just have drunk the wine, you just had to do this…But I’ll DO IT! FOR MY KINGDOM!”

He swiped the blade across your neck before swiping again at your chest. You fell to the floor as you held the parts that burned with searing pain, writhing as you felt more blood rush over your hands. Worried you’d be succumbing to your death you let yourself silently cry as you lost the strength to hold your arms up. Your vision was spotty. All you could hear was the deafened pounding against the door, Phil’s crying, the comfort that followed from the queen…your mother

“W-what is that?! What is this?! Witchcraft?”

The blade was pointed at what would have been your corpse if it weren’t for your blood turning into a silver color and receding back into your body. The wounds you had began to close before stopping as you slumped to the ground. The royal family waited in silence as they watched you lay there. Still and unmoving they came closer to poke at your body hoping that you would remain so. But before they could do so the castle began to shake, windows shattered, and a storm surged outside. Hair and capes whipping in the wind it only took a flash of green lightning for the fae king had arrived.

“To think it took only three dolts to further your kingdom’s destruction; humans continue to amaze me.”

Maleficent spoke candidly before carefully pulling you up into his arms. Phil foolishly stuck his sword out towards the fae.

“So what are you going to do, huh?! Burn me with fire for hurting your precious little prize?!”

He shook as Malleus turned towards him staring him down with that intimidating glare and flare of magic.

“Hahaha!”

He laughed flashing his elongated fangs and letting Phil and the family sigh.

“No. Thanks to my productivity they’re not dead,” there was a breath of relief. One that was short-lived,” but your town will though and by tomorrow everyone will know why. Adieu.”

Nodding his head to the staff and guard that had broken through the doors and pointed accusatorially at the royal family as they watched Maleficent teleport away; beginning the disruption that would spur the prophecy they’d been given.

______________________________________________________________

When you awoke you felt an ache all throughout your body, making your awakening a slow mission. Looking around you weren’t in your home, instead, you were in a darker place with walls of stone and torches of green fire. Barely tilting your head, you laid eyes on that crow kirking its head in your direction before flying off. You had the urge to follow struggling to move with your achy legs and IV pumping something silver into your veins. Unplugging it as you hobbled out of your room, you relied on the cold feeling of your bare feet against the floor to wake you up as you followed the waiting crow.

It felt like you were walking a maze blindly following the corvid as he led you through the barren hallways. Finally sitting still he cawed on a rootlike perch that sat alongside the grand thorned throne in which Maleficent sat with legs spread open in attire much more relaxed than his usual cape. You stared inawe curious if you were dreaming.

“Come Dove. Sit with me. You have destroyed your first kingdom; here we bask in the glory of our immense superiority.”

“B-but I’m nothing but spoils from that destruction…if I should be so bold.”

He smiled. A smile of amusement as you retained your demeanor even in something as simple as your night cloth.

“Sit, (Y/n). I have already found you worthy of this honor. You are mine after all.”

You bowed before stepping up the stairs to his throne and letting yourself sit upon the leg of the fae King. Trying to still your heart as his hand wraps around your waist and pulls you close to cast a spell on a hovering ball of water.

“Now my Dove, let us watch their prophecy become reality.”

#yandere genderbend maleficent #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere maleficent #yandere genderbent disney #yandere genderbent maleficent #yandere male maleficent #yandere fairy tale #yandere disney #yandere disney x reader #yandere disney genderbent #yanderes #yandere #yandere male

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e1e4n0r5 · 10 months

Text

Twisted Love

Summary: You always expected to marry your twin brother, Daeron. However, when this does not come to be, you find comfort with your siblings. As only Targaryens could.

TW: Targ!cest, canon-typical incest, canon-typical age of consent (I did age up a little but the first s*xual encounters begin at 16), kind-of-I guess-sort-of grooming (Targs gonna Targ!), explicit s*xual content, oral s*x (m receiving, f receiving), p in v, anál play, group s*x

Notes:

I did change ages a little in this, just to make it somewhat less seedy.

Aegon is NOT a r*pist (honestly, why would the showrunners put that in if they wanted the audience to sympathise with him??)

Given that this will basically be PWP, there’s no Dance

Few uses of Y/N, only when needed

I haven’t written in ages, so this is probably 💩

This is FILTH. Pure filth. Heed the warnings up top. What’s listed there is what you will find. This is filthy, sordid, devious SMÚT.

You weren't meant for Aemond. As Daeron’s twin, the entire realm had expected news of your betrothal for years. Growing up, you were never far from your twin brother. Wherever one of you went, the other was never far behind. He would walk with you through the gardens; you would read with him in the library. You would watch him train with your brothers and cousins – or rather, listen to his protests about training – whilst you sat on a balcony above, your embroidery on your lap. You would both insist on taking your history and Valyrian lessons together, not wishing to be apart even for those few hours.

You pictured your wedding, together. You would sketch your wedding dress, and Daeron would practice draping your family’s cloak over your shoulders. You would have practiced your vows together, if only either of you had known the words. You both thought of your future children, agreeing upon names for your future sons and daughters. You both liked the names Maelon for a boy and Daela for a girl, and both hated Jaehna and Raenor. You both wanted them to have the traditional Targaryen colouring – white hair, violet eyes – but did agree that perhaps one or two with the Hightower colouring could be nice as well.

This lasted until you were twelve, then Daeron was sent to Oldtown. You begged and pleaded for him not to go, but your mother and grandsire ignored your pleas. After that, you asked to go with him. After all, you could not be apart. This, also, was refused. You would stay in Kings Landing and become a shining example of a Targaryen princess, and your brother would go to Oldtown to receive an extensive education.

Watching Daeron sail away was the most painful moment of your life. You cried, and screamed, and wailed at the top of your lungs. Fuck dignity and decorum; you felt like your very heart was being ripped right out of your chest. It was unbearable. Your mother ordered Aemond to take you back to your room, humiliated at the scene you were causing. That was when it started.

You and Aemond had certainly been close before Daeron left, there was no denying that, but the whole castle knew who your favourite brother was. However, with your twin gone, Aemond seized the opportunity to take the place of your closest sibling. Just two years older than you, you started spending more time with your one-eyed brother. He trained every day, unlike Daeron who practically had to be dragged to the training yard by his ear, so you got a lot more embroidering done. He came to the library with you, content to sit in silence whilst you both read. You would make recommendations to one another, expanding both your knowledge bases. You became more versed in politics and military history; Aemond expanded his horizons with languages, histories of the Westerosi kingdoms, and even the occasional fictional piece.

Aemond corrupted you. There is no other way to describe the changes that occurred in you after Daeron was sent away. Aemond was the antithesis to Daeron, everyone knew that. Daeron was sweet, soft; a kind-hearted and devoted brother. Aemond was not exactly unkind, but it was inevitable that his darkness would eventually spill over onto you. It was so subtle, you didn't even notice. Not until your sixteenth year.

Aegon and Helaena were married, their twin children a few months old. You had been in your rooms, reading later than you normally would, but the book had sustained your interest strongly enough to carry on into the night. At one point, you heard angry voices in the corridor outside your rooms. Your brothers: Aegon and Aemond. You couldn't clearly hear what they were saying, so you put your book down and headed over to your door, opening it just enough to look outside.

Your brothers were just a few feet from your door, arguing in hushed tones.

“How could you do this, Aegon?” Aemond snarled. “To disrespect not only your wife and sister, but our whole family too! Those filthy whores from the Street of Silk-”

“Aem, for fuck sake!” Aegon slurred, clearly drunk and swaying where he stood. “I just needed some relief. Helaena has the babies and is never in the fucking mood, so I just went to the Street-”

Aemond catches your eye from your hiding place behind your door. He cuts Aegon off, his eye darkening as a devious plan formed in his mind. “There is another option available to you, Aegon.”

“What? Mother threatened to cut off my cock if I did it with another maid-”

“Not a maid, you fool. Have you forgotten; we do have another sister.” With that, Aemond looked you in the eye. “What do you think, hāedar (little sister)? Would you help our dear Aegon with his problem?”

The eldest brother looked over his shoulder, pausing when he saw you. He looked back at Aemond. “You don't mean-?”

“What say you, brother? Surely your maiden little sister is more enticing than a common street whore?”

Aegon looked back at you, smiling as he looked you up and down. “Well, I suppose we are Targaryens, after all,” he smirked.

Suddenly it all made sense to you. The lingering kisses on your cheeks and foreheads; holding you close if you reclined on a chaise; admiring how you looked when you tried on new dresses, Aegon jokingly suggesting the necklines be a little lower; scaring off any men who tried to dance with you at balls; kissing your neck when they held you close… Despite your mother’s insistence on keeping you away from your ancestors’ ‘queer customs’, sometimes Targaryens just needed to love another the most.

You smiled at both your brothers, cracking open your door a little wider.

That night you learnt about the pleasures hands and mouths can provide, learning all your brothers had to teach you. How to move your mouth up and down a cock, how to touch a man's balls, how to use your hands to stimulate the parts your mouth couldn't take, how to swallow their offerings. You started on your knees between Aegon's legs as he lay back on your bed. Aemond took charge and instructed you how to please a man's cock, at some points holding your hair and slowly moving your head up and down for you to understand the desired depth and pacing. Aegon sat helpless on the bed, leaning back on his hands with his head thrown back, lost in the pleasure of having his youngest sister’s mouth. At one point he asked Aemond where he should finish; Aemond told him they would be gentle with you on your first try. You didn’t understand what that meant until Aemond pulled your head off Aegon’s cock just as he cried out and spurted all over his stomach. Still holding your hair, Aemond guided your head towards the white sticky fluid.

“Try it,” he ordered. “Next time you’ll swallow.”

You tentatively licked up some of Aegon’s fluids, holding it on your tongue for a second before swallowing. It didn’t necessarily taste bad; it was the texture that threw you off. Aemond kept hold of your hair until you had cleaned all of Aegon’s stomach. ‘Can’t leave any evidence,’ Aemond explained. After all, you were an unwed maiden. The castle would be rife with rumours if your handmaids discovered a man’s seed on your sheets.

When you were finished with Aegon, you expected both brothers to leave. They did not.

Aemond turned you to him, still on your knees, and began opening his leather breeches. “Show me what you’ve learnt, sister,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. So, you did. You used your hands and mouth just as they had showed you with Aegon. Your jaw soon began to ache, unused to these movements. Aemond was longer and thicker than Aegon (who wasn’t exactly small), requiring your hands to help work him faster when your jaw was threatening to give out. Aemond hit the back of your throat more than Aegon did, and he held your head still as you coughed.

“Take it, take it,” he grunted, as he began moving your head back and forth. “Oh, sӯz riña, sӯz riña (good girl),” he panted, thrusting faster into your mouth, until he climaxed with a loud groan. He held your head to his pelvis, ignoring your coughs as he flooded your mouth. “Swallow it, hāedar (little sister),” he ordered, “Or else you won’t get your pleasure from us this night.” You had obeyed as best as you could, still coughing in between swallows. When Aemond was satisfied you’d done as you were told, he pulled out of your mouth, a thick trail of saliva and semen lingering on his cock. “Lie back on the bed.”

You had done so, and he had promptly bestowed on you the most exquisite pleasure imaginable with just his mouth. He pulled your thighs over his shoulders, holding your hips against his face. Aegon had gotten his second wind, pulling your nightgown over your head and laving attention on your breasts. You didn't know they could be so sensitive, pushing your chest into Aegon’s mouth and hands as you fisted his hair. You moaned and mewled almost continuously as your brothers pleasured you, writhing atop your sheets.

Aegon eventually pulled away and moved up to your face. Taking hold of your chin, he pressed his lips to yours. It was your first kiss. You sighed against his mouth, his lips soft against yours. His thumb stroked your cheek as his other hand stroked over your hair tenderly.

Aemond looked up from between your legs when your sounds became muffled. “Aegon!” he protested.

“I'm sorry, brother,” he apologised with a smirk. “You were right; our little sister is just too enticing.”’ He smiled down at you, “I've wanted to kiss you for so long.”

Aemond was not happy at all with the situation, but returned to his work between your legs. He licked and sucked at your pussy, whilst Aegon kissed you deeply and ran his hands all over your breasts. Everything soon overwhelmed you, and you climaxed loudly into your eldest brother’s mouth, your thighs gripping Aemond’s head.

Throughout the night, the three of you pleasured each other a dozen times over, not stopping until you were all on the verge of exhaustion. Your brothers helped you put your nightgown back on, then put you to bed, slipping out of your rooms in the early hours, undetected by anyone.

No-one was any the wiser about what the three of you had done. However, you insisted that you had to tell Helaena. The elder sister would no doubt be thinking her brother-husband was out walking the Street of Silk, instead of spending his nights with his other sister. To a Targaryen, it was the better option.

And Helaena had been grateful. She had indeed been thinking that Aegon was out in the city, spending each night in a different brothel, sleeping with all manner of whores; it was a relief to know it was their younger sister on her knees for him. And Aemond too. And, after a few more months, Helaena herself joined in. Her months postpartum had been rough on the Princess, leaving her with no desire for intimacy – the very situation which had led Aegon to contemplate whoring as a solution – but when her desires had returned, the first thing she wanted to do was thank her sister for attending to their brother whilst she could not.

Over the next two years, the four of you engaged in your illicit activities in the dead of night, using hidden passages between your rooms to conduct your affairs. You and Aegon; you and Aemond; Aemond with Helaena; you and Helaena; even Aegon and Aemond at times. The only rule you all had was that you were not to be penetrated. You were still unwed, and you all wanted your maidenhead to remain intact. After all, Daeron would be your husband. And although he could not be with you all for your delectable and sordid acts, you still felt like he was owed something as your husband.

But it was not to be.

It all came to a head on your eighteenth name day. Your mother had been telling you for months that Daeron, your beloved twin brother, was finally going to be returning from Oldtown, and a betrothal would be officially announced. You were elated at the return of your brother; you and he had not seen each other for six years. What if he had changed in the years? What if he felt you had changed? What if he disapproved of your relations with your other siblings? You had a profound love for Daeron – you grew inside your mother together, you were born only minutes apart – but you would not let him dictate private matters between you and your other siblings. He would join in on those matters, preferably, but who knew what kind of man he had grown into, separated from his Targaryen family and surrounded by books for so many years? But none of that mattered, your brother was returning.

Except he didn't.

The tourney for your name day was well underway, the midday meal had been eaten, and there was still no sign of Daeron.

“His ship must be delayed a little,” your grandsire Otto theorised from his seat behind you. “He’ll be with us soon, Princess.”

“Yes,” you agreed absently, “delayed.” Your disappointment was plain for all to see.

It wasn't until the tourney was over, the winner bestowed a great gift by yourself, that your mother told you there was a large storm over Oldtown, halting any ships from departing until it passed. She had also forbade Daeron from flying on dragonback, not wanting him to get caught in the same storm.

You felt your heart break. You and your twin would not be together on your name day. Yet another occasion you were kept apart.

Aegon and Aemond kept you company in your rooms that night. Helaena was too tired after the tourney and chose to retire to bed, so your brothers spent the evening on their knees, comforting you over your twin’s absence. Aemond at your front, Aegon at your rear. The eldest sibling was more than happy to settle himself between your cheeks for hours at a time, never seeming to get bored of your back passage. You never let him or Aemond enter you properly, only with fingers, tongues, or toys; you wanted Daeron to be there for that.

They slipped out of your rooms just before daybreak, allowing your maids to wake you in the morning. After you dressed and broke your morning fast with your brothers – Helaena was allowed to take breakfast in bed, as a married woman – Ser Criston Cole came by and told you your mother and grandsire wished to speak to you. Certain it was about Daeron and your impending betrothal, you almost skipped after the knight.

You arrived in your mother’s quarters, observing her standing by a window. She was picking at her hands, as she always did. Your grandsire stood tall a few feet from her. Although he carried himself with more confidence, there was an odd air about the both of them.

“Y/N,” your mother greeted, somewhat stiffly. “How are you, daughter?”

You hesitated. This would not be good news. “I’m well, thank you, mother. Ser Criston said you wished to speak to me?”

She nodded, her eyes flitting between you and Otto. “We didn’t want to tell you yesterday,” she admitted nervously.

Otto twirled a scrolled-up letter in his hand. “It’s from your mother’s cousin, Lord Ormund Hightower. He has asked that Daeron stay in Oldtown a while longer. He’s most pleased with Daeron’s service and is reluctant to replace him.”

You felt your blood begin to boil. “So, my twin brother and I are kept apart for even longer, because my mother’s cousin can’t be bothered to find a new boy to carry his cup?” you demanded, unable to hide your anger. You refused to accept it. You had been apart from Daeron for far too long. To have a reunion with him be cancelled so suddenly and with such a piss-poor explanation, was unacceptable to you. “And you chose to hide this from me?”

“Don’t take that tone, young lady,” your grandsire scolded. “A lord’s cupbearer is a good position for Daeron.”

“He belongs here! With me! With us,” you protested. “Have you no desire to have all your children together, mother?”

You watched your mother pick at her fingers. “It’s not that, Y/N-”

“Then what is it? Daeron should have returned by now. We were supposed to be betrothed years ago! Helaena married Aegon at five-and-ten; I am now eight-and-ten and there’s only ever been whispers of a betrothal for me. People will talk, mother; they will say I’m undesirable or unwanted, by my own family!” You wept. You wept hard, all your emotions pouring out. “Why can’t Daeron come home and be my husband?”

Otto and Alicent both looked uncomfortable. “It was never promised that you and Daeron would marry,” he explained. “Alliances may be required; that is why you are not betrothed.”

“And that is why Daeron is not here,” you accused. “It’s not some stupid lord wanting to keep his cupbearer; you don’t want Daeron and I to have the chance to marry, in case you need to sell me to the highest bidder.”

“Go on with your day, Y/N,” Otto ordered firmly, dismissing you and ending the conversation.

You had returned to your rooms and wept. After a while, Aemond, Aegon, and Helaena had all crept into your rooms via a secret passage from Aemond’s own room. They held you whilst you cried, comforting you as best they could. Then you had an idea. A wicked idea, one that could threaten to break apart your family or have you disowned.

You looked at Aemond.

“Marry me. Now. In the manner of our house. Our mother and grandsire wish to keep me unmarried, in case they need to strike an alliance. I won’t allow it; I will not be sold off into some strange family with people I don’t know and who don’t love me! I will marry, now, and I will marry only a Targaryen,” you insisted. “You can marry me now, Aemond, or Aegon can take me as a second wife.”

Aemond needed no convincing; it was exactly what he’d always wanted. He had loathed your loyalty to Daeron, having wanted you for years. Your two handmaids were called into your rooms, to serve as witnesses (they were too shocked to protest, merely standing in front of the locked doors as silent and still as statues) whilst Aegon performed the rites. Although you didn’t have the traditional Valyrian wedding robes, you followed the traditional ceremony in every other way. You exchanged vows and blood, anointing each other’s foreheads with your bleeding thumbs, and kissing passionately at the end. You swore your handmaids to secrecy until the next morning when you would announce to the whole kingdom that you were wed, and dismissed them, so that you may start your wedding night.

Aegon went to your drinks table and began pouring all four of you wine. By the time he had finished and turned around, you were moaning with Helaena kneeling between your legs as Aemond unlaced your dress from behind.

“Don’t waste any time, subyss (siblings),” he laughed. He set the tray down and picked up two cups. He handed one to Aemond and took a sip of his. He fisted Helaena’s hair gently, pulling her away from your pussy. Tilting her head back, he trickled the wine from his mouth to hers. She moaned softly and swallowed obediently. Aegon tapped her bottom lip, and she extended her tongue. He spat a small glob of saliva on her tongue, then nudged her back to your pussy. “Get our little sister nice and wet for her new husband, ābrazȳrys (wife).” Helaena went straight back into your pussy, spreading your lips wide and sucking on your clit. Your legs shook and Aemond held you upright, now naked behind you.

Aegon moved forward to give you wine as he had done to Helaena, but Aemond stopped him. “I’ll feed my wife for the first time, brother,” he protested, holding the cup to your mouth. Aegon smirked and held his hands up in mock-surrender, running his free hand over your breasts. He tweaked your nipples exactly as you liked; just a little too hard, just enough to cause some discomfort. You drank from Aemond’s cup, swallowing until he took the cup away, almost empty. You gasped suddenly.

Aegon looked down. “Helaena! You know the rules, no fingers!” he snapped, pulling his sister-wife backwards gently until her hand fell away from your pussy. “Her cunt’s for Aemond, you should have asked.”

“I’m sorry, Aemond,” she pouted. “I just wanted to start preparing her.”

Aemond shakes his head. “Ask first next time, sister. As Aegon said, her cunt is mine now.” It made you throb how he was speaking about you. He kisses your cheek, “Get on the bed, dōna (sweet).”

With slightly wobbly legs, you hurried over to the bed, reclining back. You waited. Aemond walked over to Helaena, still on her knees, and lifted her finger to his mouth. He sucked deeply, savouring your taste. He nudged her onto her feet, leading both her and Aegon to where you lay on the bed.

“Help me, mandia (older sister),” Aemond smiled at Helaena, slipping a finger inside you. She smiled back, slipping in one of her own fingers back inside her little sister’s cunt. Aemond looked to Aegon. “Lēkia (older brother), you too.”

You moaned loudly on top of the sheets, feeling a third finger enter you. All three felt different inside you, moving at different angles, varying depths, contrasting speeds. You forgot about everything outside of the room, closing your eyes and basking in the sensations provided by the fingers. One was slow and gentle, exploring you sweetly; Helaena. Another moved a little deeper and more firmly; Aemond. And the final finger moved in and out of you at speed, curling at just the right angle; Aegon.

The three older siblings all looked down at your cunt together, watching in amazement how well you took three fingers for your first time. It was a glorious sight. Aemond leant down and dripped some spit onto your hole, Helaena followed by example, and Aegon finished with a grin. The noise your now slippery cunt was making was enough to have you blushing harder than you ever had before.

“Finish for us, wife,” Aemond commanded. “Show us how obedient you can be.”

Aemond and Aegon took an ankle each and spread your legs, leaving you helpless beneath them. You looked up at all of them, overcome with pleasure and submission. The three-headed dragon standing over you smiled down at you, waiting patiently for you to reach your peak. You did with a loud cry, making Helaena shoot her hand forward and stick the fingers of her free hand in your mouth.

“Quiet, sister,” she whispered. “You may be married in this room, but you are still unwed to the rest of the Keep.”

You nodded dumbly, closing your mouth around her fingers. As she always did when she had her fingers in your mouth, she moved them in and out shallowly, shivering at the feeling of your tongue tickling her digits.

“It’s time, wife,” Aemond announced, and Helaena and Aegon withdrew from your cunt. You moaned at the loss, but quickly settled as you watched Aemond stroke his cock between your legs.

Your sister climbed up onto the bed next to you. “Finally, Y/N, you won’t be a maiden any longer, sister,” Helaena whispered with excitement. “We can spend our days all together now, there’ll be no more hiding,” she smiled, so happy there would be no more need for secrecy. Well, not complete secrecy. You smiled around her fingers, even as you choked with tears in your eyes.

“Hel, let up, she’s choking,” Aegon chided, pulling his sister-wife’s fingers out your mouth. You coughed a little but kept smiling at Helaena regardless. “If you really want her mouth, give her your tits. You both love that.”

“Oh yes,” she said absently, removing her own garments. She soon settled back next to you, pressing her breast to your mouth. You latched on quickly, humming happily as your sister’s creamy milk started to let down in your mouth.

Aemond moved your knees forward to your chest. “Hold your legs, wife,” he commanded, sliding the tip of his cock through your soaking folds. You moaned around Helaena’s breast, holding yourself open for your husband.

He slid in slowly, groaning low at how deliciously tight you were. He’d never sampled a cunt like it, squeezing his every inch. You sighed softly, feeling fuller than you ever thought possible. Aemond slid slowly in and out, feeding you a little more of his cock every time he slid back in. Before long, he hit an end inside you and you whimpered, gripping your thighs.

“Here, Y/N,” Aegon leant down and rubbed your clit slowly, helping you relax into Aemond’s thrusts. Such a kind big brother.

Helaena took her breast out of your mouth after a few minutes, laying down beside you. She spread herself in front of Aegon, who happily gave her his cock. As you and Helaena lay on the bed, side by side, your husbands pounded into both of you. Your hands closest to each other reached over and rubbed each other’s clits. It was wonderfully deviant.

“Mayhaps we both conceive children tonight, hāedar,” Helaena smiled sweetly at you. You smiled widely back at her, leaning in and kissing her deeply. All four of you moaned loudly and climaxed simultaneously.

That night was long, exquisite, and sordid. You could finally be fucked, properly and thoroughly by your brothers and sister, there was no need for anyone to hold back. Helaena even ran back to her and Aegon’s rooms at one point, retrieving a thick leather phallus secured to a harness and bending you over the bed. She explained dreamily whilst thrusting into you that she had had it made a year or so before, just waiting for the day she could use it on you. After you had squirted release over the both of you, she had thrown you onto the bed, put the harness on you, and ridden you wildly. Aegon even fitted himself into her ass from behind. You blissfully watched your sister ride you, whilst getting fucked in the ass by your brother, until Aemond gripped your hair and thrust his cock into your mouth.

Aegon and Helaena removed themselves from your room at dawn – you were all so exhausted, you must all have passed out at some point – and you and Aemond curled up together in bed, secure in each other’s arms. Your maids had tentatively knocked you awake, not knowing what they would encounter. Seeing you and Aemond in bed together could not have been too surprising; they witnessed your wedding, after all. You told them to bring you and your husband breakfast in bed. Given that you were now married, you were also entitled to that luxury. They did so apprehensively, but obeyed.

Word had obviously gotten back to your mother that you had not dressed for breakfast, so she knocked on your door a short while later. “Y/N? Are you well? Your maids told me that you are breaking fast in here?”

You and Aemond smirked at each other on the bed. You’d put your robes on, but had chosen to eat your bread and fruits atop your ruffled bed sheets. “Come in, mother.”

Alicent entered, looking around the room for you. When she saw you, she froze. You could see her heart stop beating. “Y/N, what—what is the meaning of this!”

You smiled back at her. “Well, seeing as Daeron won’t be returning to Kings Landing any time soon, I took it upon myself to find my own husband.”

“Husband?” she gasped.

“Indeed, mother,” Aemond nodded after sipping his tea. “Y/N and I wed last night, in the Valyrian tradition,” there was still evidence of the blood on both your foreheads, “with our brother and sister, and Y/N’s two maids, as witnesses.”

You smiled back at the Queen. “Wedded and bedded, mother.”

“Bed…” Alicent looked faint, your maids pulling a chair over quickly. She plopped down onto the seat, no grace in the movement, staring back at you both. “How could you do this, Y/N! We told you why you had not been betrothed yet!”

“I know, and I refused to be sold off to a stranger. I have taken Aemond as my husband, and I am his wife. The union was witnessed and has been consummated. It’s done, mother.”

Otto had been livid, a hair’s breadth away from disowning you and dissolving the union. But when Aemond had moved his hand to his sword, a clear warning not to insult or threaten his wife, the Hand of the King relented. It was announced to the castle at evening meal, with the formal ceremony for the Faith of the Seven held the next morn.

And sure enough, three moons later, you and Helaena were both with child.

So this will definitely end up a series 🤣 Let me know your thoughts!

Chapter 2

#house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen #twisted love

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kimbap-r0ll · 1 year

Note

Can I please request Trey, Jack, Kalim and Leona reacting to their little sibling (Cheka in Leona's case) asking the reader if they can marry them?

Hi, thank you for the ask! I'm guessing you mean the boys' younger siblings asking the reader to marry their bf? If not let me know, I took this approach for the ask :)

You get asked by Trey, Jack, Kalim's siblings and Cheka about marriage to their older brothers

Trey

He's lowkey embarrassed but he's laughing when he hears this

Trey had invited you over during the holidays and you two were helping out in the bakery. Trey's younger brothers came in and saw how you were busy by yourself. Deciding this was the chance to ask you a bunch of questions, they went and just rapid-fire asking when you were planning on marrying Trey

"Guys, guys, they're trying to do the icing on the cake leave them be," Trey pats his siblings on the back and tries to move them away from you. But the kids just keep going "Are you going to wear a suit? A dress? What about the cake flavor!"

Overall Trey thinks it's kind of funny, if anything if you answer these questions expect to see Trey blushing a little bit. Also expect him to daydream about a wedding more after this little incident haha

Jack

You were probably playing with Jack and his siblings when you were visiting them. You were already worn out by how much running everyone did but they all seemed to have superhuman stamina so you gave up and sat in the snow

Soon enough everyone else joined you, watching the clouds pass slowly in the sky. But then his younger sister started to ask you questions about your relationship with Jack. They knew you two were dating but they wanted to hear all of your date stories!

Jack tried to stop them from asking too many in case you didn't want to answer but they lowkey ignored his plea. They started to ask you "When are you going to marry Jack?" "He's been thinking about the kind of cake you two might have!" "Are you going to live close by?"

"T-that's enough you two," Jack's red in the face while you're laughing at the cute questions along with Jack's reaction. If you do answer any of these questions expect Jack to just look away shyly while the siblings giggle. You two are so wholesome omg

Kalim

He has a lot of siblings, but during one fancy event you got to meet a lot of them. While they might not all be close to Kalim, most of them knew about his relationship with you.

However what you didn't expect from this event was the amount of times you would be asked by Kalim's siblings (and aunts) on marriage. Will you get married next week? What kind of venue did you want to have? Things like that. His younger siblings were especially keen on asking 80% of these questions while the adults tried to stop them haha

Kalim overheard you answering one of the questions about how you wanted to wear something nice, whether it is a dress, a suit, or something else entirely. "Aww, I think you'll look great," Kalim smiles at you. He finds you really cute when you blush at his compliment

He's the only one that doesn't get embarrassed, though he does feel a little fluttery in his stomach with the idea of actually marrying you, it fee's like a dream. Kalim's also really glad that his siblings seem to already treat you like a part of the family

Leona

He was dreading this to ever happen, hence never mentioning letting you stay with him during the holidays. However, Farena's wife wanted to meet you and Leona had to agree

During your time at his home, you got to know his brother better along with the others in the royal family. Cheka frequently followed you around, mainly because he was curious as to who you were and also because he liked your vibes

Cheka asks a lot of questions, but at some point he started to ask if you were going to marry Leona and when. Right when Leona himself was with you. Leona, though usually chill, for the first time nearly spit out his drink and just turned slightly red in the face.

If you answer (with a little laugh of course), Cheka will just continue asking more questions about marriage. Leona, crossing his arms and refusing to look at you in the eye, will listen closely. He may not show it, but thinking about marrying you makes his heart beat faster and just makes him feel all warm inside, which in turn translates to him just being more emotionally constipated haha

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #anon ask #twst scenarios #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twst trey #twst trey x reader #twst jack #twst jack x reader #twst kalim #twst kalim x reader #twst leona #twst leona x reader

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peachdues · 9 months

Text

VOW BETWEEN MAN AND STAR

A/N: not me starting a new WIP. All my current works are staring at me with the surprised Pikachu face rn. As you all know, I do most of my fic planning in the shower, and last night, I was wondering whether I'd ever write anything as angsty as Phantasmagoria. My brain said "bet," and lo and behold, Vow Between Man and Star was born.

CW: This story will be extremely NSFW/18+. It will be incredibly violent, angsty, tragic, (but funny), and of course, smutty.

I will upload a synopsis later today, but I don't want to dull the impact of the prologue, included below.

Without further ado!

Tokyo

July 1, 1995

The early morning air was already thick with summer's humidity when he felt the mark form.

Giyuu shot up in his bed with a gasp, blankets sticking to his sweat-slickened body. His good hand instantly seized around his right forearm as he felt a phantom blade carve a single mark into his skin, right beside the others.

Though covered by his rigid grip, the mark burned a bright blue, its glow seeping through his fingers like a siren light on a police cruiser; a warning.

All of his marks had emitted the same, blue light when they'd first appeared, though the tally's nine siblings had long since faded to silver, nearly blending in with the pale skin of his arm. But they'd scarred nonetheless.

Scarred to remind him of the nine times he'd failed his comrades; failed humanity.

Failed her.

In making that vow, he'd doomed not only himself and his seven fellow Pillars to walk the years of the earth alone, never changing or aging, but he'd doomed her as well. He'd damned her to a repetitive loop of birth and death, fated never to age past twenty-five -- the same age she'd been that first time, when, on the precipice of death, he'd begged for the life she'd already lost. And his desperate wish had been granted; he'd secured her ten lives for them to try again -- to try and find the King of the Demons and rid the world of his and his monstrous creations.

Ten lives, the disembodied voice of a star had told him as his heart slowed, all those centuries ago, when he'd cast that last, feeble plea out into the ethos. Ten lives, in exchange for ten Moons.

Nine had been wasted; in nearly every life, he'd found her, and he'd loved her, and he'd lost her; always too late to save her before some calamity, or from Kibutsuji cornering her, this woman who possessed the knowledge to destroy him, and tearing her limb from limb.

The closest they had come to defeating him had been some seventy-odd years prior. They'd been at the pinnacle of their strength, and they'd just managed to breach the gates of victory when Muzan Kibutsuji pulled one final trick; he'd merged with the young Sun Breather -- Tanjiro -- and managed to rip her head clean from her body right before she'd been able to excise him once and for all.

Giyuu's eardrums had burst from how hard he'd been screaming as he watched his beloved's head thud uselessly to the ground, while his former friend licked her blood from his fingers.

He wondered when he was finally permitted to die, if he would even be allowed into heaven, for having damned the woman he loved to suffer, time and again, each death more violent than the last.

Giyuu spied the early hour of the morning displayed on the small alarm clock resting on his bedside table -- 4:07 AM.

Time had begun for her once more, somewhere in the world, where she'd arrived with a mighty cry, only to be quickly bundled in soft, standard hospital blankets and handed to a relieved and exhausted new mother.

He would have to alert the others; as he'd come to learn over the previous nine cycles, she wasn't even guaranteed to reach adulthood, let alone the level of power she'd need to take on Kibutsuji. She would need her watchers.

So, as the hot, relentless burn of the newest mark faded to a sharp sting, the blue glow winking out beneath the press of his hand, Giyuu found himself kicking the covers off his trembling, clammy form, as he prepared to dress for the day.

Because that tenth mark signaled his last chance had arrived.

His last chance to destroy Kibutsuji.

His last chance to help save humanity.

His last chance to save her.

The sand in the final hourglass was already pouring; and they had work to do.

Someone ask me how I decided to make Giyuu the love interest bc I find it hilarious.

LIKES / REBLOGS/ COMMETS ALWAYS APPRECIATED!

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #giyuu tomioka #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #tomioka giyuu #kny giyuu #kny smut #demon slayer hashira #hashira au #hashira fic #demon slayer smut #giyuu x y/n #giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu smut #demon slayer fic #fanfic

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sundays-wing-piercing · 10 days

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Hello there! I've been reading through your works and i love how you write Sunday!!

If your requests are open, I wanted to ask something that takes place at the end of the 2.2 quest so if you haven't done it yet, no worries, you can just ignore this ask!

But if you have played through it… I started thinking about nameless! reader on that stage of the theatre, you know the one where MC and Sunday (who's in that gigantic robot) have that exchange "why does life slumber?" "Because… someday… we'll all wake up from our dreams!" "😮") and then the robot with Sunday inside starts falling off the suspended stage etc.

So, I started thinking about nameless! reader starting to weep, while the everyone else (I think it was the full express crew?) is still on that stage, because of everything that happened. Like sure everyone was exhausted and all that unfolded so far probably took a toll on them, so breaking down after everything is done is normal but for reader there's also something else as they see Sunday fall down (I guess figuratively, too) and regain lucidity after the madness he went through (partially related, but i read someone saying that Sunday ended up being controlled by Ena the Order just like how it happened eras ago before her fall and people exulted that she finally fell and the controlling order was no more).

Omg I'm sorry for the long ask 😅 if you even just read through it I'll be happy. Have a wonderful dayyy

Thank you for the ask!! Also, nuh uh don't apologize for yapping im a long text lover this made my day (stay yapping pooks) also out of topic but I love the way you described the last cutscene

Alright im sorry if I interpret this wrong but I think it's obvious the cause would be a feeling of empathy. So first maybe you're someone who's view is similar to that of Robin in which no matter how low a point gets as long as you're alive you'll still be able to get back up and be better. I hope I phrased it right but basically it's hopeful. Even after seeing this guy through his peak madness, his lowest point, something in you hopes for him to get a good ending. For the siblings to finally fly together and thus seeing him just fall like that, basically him giving up and accepting that he'll never be any better than this, you can't help but feel sad for this guy.

Not to mention the fact that after the whole grand theatre incident, Sunday was not only wanted but also missing (if I remember correctly, sry if im wrong) and you can't help but feel even worse as you see Robin desperate to get any info on his wellbeing. How even after all that, the siblings are yet again grieving. Their dream still far from their reach. The thought alone clouds your brain with nothing but sorrow as you cried for them.

Option two is something I thought about more is imagine you absolutely resonating with him. As he goes on with ideology and beliefs ("Everyday should be Sunday" -Sunday Oak) no matter how dehumanizing or flat out baffling they may be a small part of you agrees with him because you yourself have been in that situation, you once believed in the things he's saying, you were once in his position. But unlike Sunday, you've grown to take on a better mindset. Maybe your journeys as a nameless has helped you become a better person. Not immediately but that's alright, in the end you've made way bigger of a progress from what you started out as.

It's mostly the same as the first but this time it hits harder because it's not some baseless optimism. You yourself are a living proof of it. You can't help but feel guilty. But why? Just the sole fact that you both experienced a similar misery but ended with two endings that are opposite to one another makes you feel sorta crappy for simply being happy.

Both end with you praying to whichever Aeon hears your pleas as you wish mercy upon a fallen angel.

#Slowly starting to answer ask again pls let me take my time #No proofread so sry if its shitty #ai rants #hsr sunday #sunday hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail sunday

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the-darklings · 2 years

Text

──𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 [𝐗.]

summary: "I heard you."

pairing: dream of the endless x f!reader

wc: 9.2k+

warnings: angsty, they're truly pining in this one ngl, Dream is still Dream (trying, but lowkey failing) ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

notes: whose ready for that reunion, huh? Ngl, I struggled with writing this chapter if only because I'm so used to writing original content. It was weird trying to adapt the show timeline without bogging down the pace or doing a beat-for-beat recount (which would have been tedious), so I hope you liked the uneasy medium I chose instead.

part one | series masterlist | ao3 |

PART TEN: YEAR 1021 II

His realm. Ruins.

Everywhere Morpheus turns his attention, decay and ash greet him on his traipse to the castle. Time is cruel. What he has built over the years—with devotion, care, and contentment—has broken down to nothing in a hundred years he was gone.

These walls, physical and otherwise, keeping so many unassailable, have stood for thousands of years. Since the dawn of all creation, the Dreaming had been a haven.

Now, it is barely standing.

Crumbled stone and dust. Grey, drab surroundings devoid of colour, gutted of resplendence that once coursed so freely here. His Dreaming, his home, his beautiful treasure. The weight inside his chest is unbearable. Scratchy and thorned, each image bites into his mind, snagging and burrowing there. He will carry this weight until his end. This is a failure; fundamental, wretched, inescapable.

His subjects have fled. Abandoned the Dreaming—and him—in droves. Not even his siblings have sought him out.

You love them, but you don’t see them.

“You may be correct about your siblings not arriving to your aid, Lord. But someone else did. Someone searched for you. Rather ardently, I might add.”

Morpheus raises his head, pain knotting his throat, his hands clasped while he perches on a fragmented staircase.

“Who?”

Lucienne’s expression pinches, eyeing him over her glasses as if it should be obvious. But if not his family, then—

“My Lord, surely you can think of someone who cares for you enough to do so?” Hearing no response, his librarian persists, “Someone who has stood by your side no matter what. I confess it was most perplexing to hear your tale, for I had assumed your return was thanks to—”

“Lucienne. This lead is different. I can feel—”

That voice.

A figure clad in black rounds the corner, and instinct, pulsing and devastating, jerks his body upwards. Morpheus stands, but his knees hold a mortal’s frailty. Had he not surmised you lost to him? Gone forever?

Wanderer.

Hello, stardust.

So long—it had been so long. Not two centuries have passed since he’d last seen you—a mere drop to an Endless such as him, yet it feels like lifetimes have flown by. All those years, wasted. Some foolishly given away, others stolen. Just once, the passage of time is devastating. Because this time, Morpheus bears the full brunt of his loss.

I call upon Dream of the Endless. Answer my call, Dream Lord, for you are sworn.

There had been a call, a plea, a dream echoing inside his barren, shadowed prison. And he failed—he failed to answer. What is he if not Lord of unanswered dreams and hopes? What is his purpose if the one whose call he’s waited for centuries does not receive an answer?

You teeter to a sudden stop, gawking; it’s as if your body has transformed into an obelisk. Midnight flows and encloses your figure and—

It is but a coat now, his power long since faded, but it is his. Sown into being from nothing, shaped by his will, by his hand alone, tailored to fit a different form now. Repurposed for holding, touching, lingering on your skin—

A star erupts inside his chest, boiling through him, and the sheer, scalding power steals his breath.

Thousand words tangle on his tongue; a thousand stories, reasons, curses and pleas. Yet, only one word leaves Morpheus, his hand seeking, even if his tongue would not verbalise the want, the need:

“Wanderer.”

Hot, treacherous power sparks through the air, igniting from within you where that pesky curse dwells, and then you’re gone with a thunderous crack. Fragments once more. Continuously slipping through his grasp.

His breath escapes short and tight. His hand lowers back to his side. His skin itches and an invisible tremor shakes his fingers—one Lucienne would miss, but Morpheus senses with shameful intimacy.

Undone by sight alone. Broken apart into no more than sand and sea foam.

Raw instinct exhorts him to go after you, but he cannot. Unlike other mortals, you do not dream. There are no photographs for him to use for locating you, and his pebble—

Is it still in your possession? Or have you cast it aside? Forgotten your bond? He could place no blame if you had. But the need to know is blistering. He permits no shadow of irresolution to show. This is to be an exercise in patience, duty over impulse.

“Lucienne, why was Wanderer here?” he questions softly instead.

His librarian gapes for a second before composing herself, her mouth pressing into a tight line.

“Shortly after you vanished, Wanderer returned.” Lucienne’s account washes over him while his stare remains glued to the vacant spot where the residue of dark power lingers. “For decades, she searched for you. For decades she helped to hold the realm together in your absence. Scoured the waking world and all the realms in between and at a great personal cost.”

Oh.

Morpheus’ head sinks to the side, half-turning.

Lucienne strides several steps closer, resolute and wonderfully brave despite her subdued nature. “I implore you to reconsider further punishment, Lord.”

A soft sound bubbles in his throat. “Punishment?” The word is dark silk blanketing damage. His damage. “Do you believe I seek to punish? No, Lucienne.”

With a breath, his shoulders straighten, and his fingers uncurl. The steadiness with which Morpheus has stood for centuries makes a much-welcomed return. “I must recover my tools. Then, I shall seek out Wanderer once more. There is much that remains unsaid between us.”

Everything. Too much.

But first, he must convalesce. Retrieve what was once stolen from him. Just moments prior, Morpheus had been too weak to sense your entry into the Dreaming. He could once do it without conscious thought.

Lucienne bows her head. “Yes, Lord.”

Restless, he calls, “Lucienne?” A beat. Perhaps it would be kinder not to ask. “Wanderer looked…”

The librarian might not be in direct sight, but Morpheus senses how deeply his uncharacteristic falter startles her.

Lucienne’s hands clasp behind her back. “Sick, yes.” There is grim verity about her tone, her bearing. “I’m afraid such is the price for devotion, sir. Wanderer was not afraid to pay it on your behalf. Not even after the banishment.”

The shores of the Dreaming have transformed in his absence. It would seem nothing in his kingdom remains untouched. Lifeless, desolate, no longer comforting. Once encompassing dark has become devouring, lonely darkness.

“I do not require a minder,” he reminds stiffly. “I’m Dream of the Endless.”

Lucienne is ever loyal and present at his back, and Morpheus hears her concern. He understands the reluctance to permit solo travel after what transpired, but he is the Endless. What happened with Burgess will never be allowed to happen again.

“Yes, and Dream of the Endless always has a raven,” Lucienne insists.

Morpheus halts, hesitance locking him in place before he finds his voice, “Jessamy was the last.”

It is then, on distant shores, that a realisation strikes Morpheus. Or, rather, an absence. Something he should be able to view even from his location, unfailingly visible from the docks.

“The Wanderer Island.” The name drags from his throat with hoarse reluctance because, deep down, the answer is already evident. “What happened?”

Where once he could see the island piercing the horizon, there’s now nothing but hollow blackness. A place where so many had journeyed in their dreams—with increasing frequency over the centuries—is gone.

Lucienne’s words come out tired and heavy, and in them, Morpheus hears further proof of how terribly he’s failed them. “Much like the rest of the realm, in your absence, the island broke apart and sunk, sir. It was the last to go.”

“Did Wanderer witness it?”

His inquiry is barely audible. So much so that Morpheus figures Lucienne did not hear him at all, but when her answer does reach him, it’s worse than he expected: “Yes. Mervyn and I discovered her here one evening, crying. The island was gone. I know not why, but Wanderer would come to the pier every evening and watch the sunset alone.”

Because we used to sit side by side, she and I, and speak no words, for we had no need for them. Only her breath and mine. Because the island sunk while Wanderer waited for me to return to her.

And it is my fault.

“I need your help.”

Hob’s reaction is instantaneous, “Anything.”

He adjusts the strap of his leather satchel as he heads towards you, carefully noting your shaken, fidgety demeanour. The university hallways are quiet this evening, and Hob gently grasps your elbow in his, leading you with him.

“Can I stay with you?” you blurt out, hot and cold all over. Sweat soaks your clothes, but you manage to form words, wobbly as they are. “Just for a day or—”

“However long you need,” Hob interjects placidly. He guides you outside, adding a thoughtful, “Or however long the curse allows you, but yes, you can always stay. Are you alright?”

The chilly wind bites your cheeks, storm clouds brewing in the distance. No stars or moon tonight, only charged heaviness. Your mouth is so dry your tongue is little more than paper.

“He’s back.” Your words come out as a croak. Words jumble inside your head, but Hob patiently nudges you towards a lamplit street. “Dream. I… I don’t know how, but… he might come after me. I broke his law and…”

Hob tenses.

“You’re joking, right? Because ha ha ha.” His timbre bleeds with urgency and solemn disbelief all at once. When you don’t laugh, only stare at him, unblinking and trembling, Hob exhales. “Oh God, you’re serious. Well, he certainly has swell timing, doesn’t he?”

Your chuckle sounds strangled in your ears. “Consider me a Faerie right now. I can’t lie.”

“And fae are real.” A muffled huff leaves Hob. The immortal shrugs, accepting this new knowledge as quickly as he did your curse. “Because, of course, they are. Next, you’ll tell me leprechauns are real, too.”

You could hug him for what he’s doing. Gratitude twines through your heart as you lean into him, solid and warm, settling your quaking knees. “Well—”

“No,” Hob cuts off, dismayed. “Don’t. I don’t want to know.”

He asks you on the way back to his flat anyway.

By late evening the weather takes a turn for the worst. Rain falls in deafening, heavy sheets, drenching every available surface. Gutters overflow as you cut through bleak London streets. Despite horrid weather, people bustle around, and it’s an effort to avoid them. You lower the umbrella Hob had allowed you to borrow, stepping under a carved stone arch. The apartment complex is mainly blackened windows and no visible movement at an hour this late, but it doesn't deter you.

You’re certain Johanna is not going to mind a late-night visit. You tried calling multiple times. But at her failure to answer, you had set out to her office despite Hob’s instance that you should wait till morning. Your friend had been inaudible mutters and a deep-set frown since you trudged back to his flat above the pub. Something about annoying Endless, and no one is hurting you in my flat. He can bugger off.

Your finger digs into the door buzzer until there’s a crack on the other side, “What?”

“It’s me, Constantine.”

A pause. “Now’s not a great time. Come back tomorrow.”

Is she with someone? You buzz her again, leaning closer to the speaker.

“Let me in.” Something flutters in your peripheral, and instinctively, you turn towards it, “We need to… never mind.”

A shape steps from the shadows, mouth parted, devouring you where you stand. Dream of the Endless dons a shorter version of your coat, his raven hair as dishevelled and wild as you remember it, his skin pale and translucent, his features ethereal and powerful despite their gentleness. Nearly two centuries have done nothing to dampen his distinctive handsomeness.

“Wanderer.”

The curse consolidates inside your chest, and you jerk—

Dream’s hand snaps around your wrist, shackling you to him. At once, the curse buckles, frizzling under the presence and will of an Endless. Dream’s body brushes against yours, and you suck in a pained breath, your wide-eyed stare snapping to him. Dream pours over your features with such burning intent even his searing touch on your chilled skin is slow to register.

“How—”

His response is instant, knowing. “You always move your body left when you are about to jump.” He tilts closer, his voice so achingly familiar, the deep rumble holds you close, embraces you. Each hushed word kisses you all over. “A thousand years, do you truly believe I do not know you?”

Indignation wells in your chest. “That goes both ways, Lord Morpheus. How did you find me?”

You tug your hand back, but it takes two attempts before he relinquishes his hold. Needle stab your heart. There’s horror at what he might do for your waywardness, but cutting through the terror is…

You’ve missed him. So dearly, so fiercely—that having him this close, unchanged in his imposing presence and dour countenance, melts something inside you. You’ve spent decades searching for his face in everybody. Seeking him in crowds and alleys, in each corner of this world. You bled and suffered to get him back. It’s surreal to have him this close again.

A dream; a cruel, horrible, seductive dream.

“It would seem Fates keep drawing us together, you and I.” There is no wrath on Dream’s face, not unlike the last time you spoke, not unlike you expected. He’s drinking you in, and against your better judgement, you do the same. “I needed not to search for you. We found each other.”

What are the chances? In this fathomless cosmos, between hundreds of dimensions, to find each other here. In a rainy, sleepy city. Destiny is no doubt sitting somewhere in his realm, mutely delighting at seeing this written in his book. All things pass as they are meant to pass.

“I prefer my mind intact, so I’ll make this short,” you speak before he can say anything else, rushing over your thudding heart. “It was a mistake coming to the Dreaming in your absence. I recognise it as much. You banished me; I shouldn’t have used your absence for my gain. I won’t bother you again. You have my word.”

“I heard you.”

Your heart stutters, all thoughts and rehearsed sentences evaporating.

A breath slips past your lips with a quiet, “What?”

Your back brushes against the concrete wall, yet he seems closer and closer with each blink.

“I heard you call for me. Yet I could not answer your plea. I was imprisoned. You sounded in pain and then nothing.” Each word comes out fainter and fainter. Each sentence chosen with the same circumspect care you’ve come to associate with him. “For decades, I knew no peace, wondering what might have befallen you to call for me finally. Only to learn, upon my return, that you alone searched for me. Aided my realm when no one else would. Yet, your conclusion upon our reunion is to fear punishment? Do you honestly believe me so cruel?”

Does he need to ask?

“Yes. Yes, I do.” Dream shrinks backwards, his expression stuttering at your pained, breathy reply. “Was it not you who banished me? All because I disagreed with you? You threw away eight hundred and fifty years of us without hearing my side. Where was your trust in me?”

Dream moves back a step, turning away from you. For a moment, there’s nothing but his proud profile, inky shadows, and roaring downpour. Pain bleeds fresh, and your features crumple. You tuck your face in the collar of your black coat—his black coat, you correct yourself immediately. Even this isn’t yours. Neither is he.

“I was… wrong to do what I did.”

Your head jerks towards him. Dream Lord hesitates, visibly holding himself back, searching for words you know all too well after a thousand years, are all but unknown to him.

“I accept that now,” he continues tightly, uncomfortable and stiff. “I should have paid closer attention. Centuries ago, I assumed Desire chose Prodigal and you for their little game to spite me, but I never considered Desire picked my younger brother for a reason. Perhaps I was too blind to see how true your feelings for him were. To defend his whereabouts so fiercely, you must care for him a great deal.”

I could make you desire anything… even a kiss.

A dumbfounded grimace contorts your mouth. Your clenched fists tremble at your sides from the urge to hit him.

“Oh, Maker. I don’t believe it.” You stagger several strides to the right, breathing hard. “You think I didn't tell you because I’m in love with Destruction?”

“It would be logical—”

You pivot on your heels, nostrils flaring.

“Yes, I love Destruction. I love him a great deal.” Something flashes through Dream’s eyes at your controlled exclamation; crushed glass and ice, distant and… hurt. “But not romantically. Don’t you get it? No, you don't, do you? You look, but you still don’t see.”

Your feet carry you towards him. Dream straightens at your proximity. Bracing for more lashing words, perhaps, but you’re simply too jaded. From this existence, from him. “Over a thousand years cursed. Humiliated, maimed, haunted, stuck in Hell, Delirium’s realm, Despair’s realm. Before you, there was no hope for me. I told you what I… but what you did… what you did hurt the most.”

Briefly, you see something close to despair paint his striking features; too fleeting, then hidden.

“What you took from me…” Your words splinter, cracking around each syllable, an agony laid bare at the altar of your relationship. Your hand settles gently on his chest. Captured. For a hundred years. What did he go through? Right now, he’s real. Tangible beneath your hand. There’s an inordinate urge to grab his coat in your hands, pull him close, and breathe him in. Your hand drops away. “I just wanted to be with you. I would have stayed by your side forever if only you asked.”

Dream’s features are unreadable; all emotion wiped clean. His glassy gaze scorches into you, but you encounter no answers or comfort there. You rotate your head away from him, licking your wobbling lips once.

He edges closer, cautious. “Let me make this right.”

Ignoring the deep, low request, you bite out, “Why are you here?”

“Because my tools were stolen from me when I was captured. My helm, my ruby, and my sand. Without them, I cannot rebuild the Dreaming.”

You watch the rain while he watches you.

Shoving your hands in your pockets, you hunch your shoulders. “Fine. I’ll help you find them if I can.”

“I did not ask for aid.”

Is he trying to insult you by implying he would need to beg for help? Does he assume the Dreaming means so little to you?

“You never needed to,” you say, shifting back to face him, your jaw set. “I’m not doing this for you, Lord Morpheus, but for them. All those dreams and nightmares without a home because they feared you abandoned them.”

Dream’s gaze drops to the ground. Is it guilt? Shame? You’re not sure. It’s an unfamiliar shade on him.

Not waiting for a response, you head for the door, buzzing the button twice more.

“But not you.”

You stop dead at his assertion. Your back remains to him. Yet Dream Lord’s words hold their power; a chain around your foot, an anchor in the bed of your heart.

“You stayed,” Dream continues. “You searched even after I banished you. Why?”

Why indeed. Is he hopeful or too blind to see? You no longer care to find out which.

“If you need to ask, you don’t deserve the answer.”

You pull on the door, and this time it opens.

Johanna’s glower is fierce enough to make you bite back a grin. You’ve glimpsed plenty of such expressions mirrored on Edward’s face in the past. The similarities are difficult to overlook. Though they’re undoubtedly distinct, they are eerily alike in certain aspects.

“I can’t believe you were right,” she mutters peevishly.

She’s said it twice in the past ten minutes.

“Just keep searching,” you say instead.

You've got 99 problems, and all of them dreams—

This time, you’re the one left scowling, pointedly ignoring the silent Endless lingering in the corner of the room and the droning radio. Johanna turned it on accidentally while searching for a light switch, and it hasn’t stopped playing songs that prickle your neck since.

“I’ll check the other room,” Johanna declares, straightening. Her dark stare slides to you briefly. Whether it’s because she senses the suffocating tension between you and the other occupant in the room or simply because she’s more caring than she lets on, she asks, “Are you gonna be alright?”

We all are living in a dream, but life ain’t what it seems—

Grinding your teeth until your temples throb, you offer her a jerky nod. Johanna chews on her inner cheek for a moment, casting a warning glare Dream’s way before she heads for the adjoined room.

How Dream’s sand pouch came into her possession, you don’t know or care to know. All you care about is locating it.

Johanna’s departure leaves behind a silence that borders on unbearable. Rifling through papers, you consider your options. Bite the bullet and talk, or wait and see how long until Dream notices the radio acting up.

Forcing an exhale between clenched teeth, you venture, “Over a hundred years in captivity is a lot. How are you?”

“Fine.”

Lovely. You’re not sure what you envisioned. A heartfelt conversation where you share your woes? Right.

“I’m sorry about Jessamy.” This attempt is more subdued, more sorrowful. “I was trying to locate her when I heard the news.”

Johanna’s office remains quiet and dimly lit. If you couldn’t sense him in the room, you would assume you were once more alone. You haven’t realised you ceased your search until you’re left staring at your hands flat on the table.

“You don’t have to lie,” you whisper, pushing yourself away and turning to face him. “No one can be captured for so long without being affected, not even you. That’s a lot of time to think.”

Hey now, hey now, don't dream it's over—

Grimacing, you march towards the other table across the cramped room.

“I did,” comes Dream Lord’s low declaration. “Think.”

Documents and notes smear together. “Yeah? And what did great Lord Morpheus think about during his captivity?”

“You.” A beat. “Every day.”

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream—

An invisible hand wraps around your throat, strangling you. Oxygen escapes your lungs but it’s no better than knives dragging down your windpipe. Your knuckles bulge beneath your skin, your grip on the table’s edge unsteady.

“The radio is broken,” you choke out, veering towards it.

You press the off button, glaring when stations instead flip repeatedly.

Sweet dreams are made of this—

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream—

I spend these waking hours looking for the Sandman—we're waiting for the Sandman, but he never hears the call—

Anger blinds you. You reach for the capable, yanking on it. Once, twice.

We'll begin… with a spin, travelling in the world of my creation. What we'll see will defy explanation—

You tear the cable out, panting, hiding your shaking hands. The cord falls to the ground, and you gasp loudly in the now too silent office.

“Wanderer.”

You hold back a cringe at the deliberate way Dream Lord articulates your title.

“Don’t bother,” you snip back.

This time, Dream moves physically in your direction. Not through the fabric of the Worlds but physically announcing his arrival. “Those songs.”

You could lie. It’s the first and most overpowering instinct. Spin him a tale, convince him it’s chance, coincidence.

Shutting your eyes, you heave the heaviest sigh you’ve mustered up in decades.

“When you disappeared, I tried everything. I know you’re not a God.” Dream pauses before you, his black coat skimming against yours, listening intently. “Your existence doesn't depend on worship or prayer. But you’re the King of Dreams. I thought—I figured if I inspired stories and songs about you, the word would spread. Maybe you’d be able to sense that you’re not forgotten. Maybe all that inspiration would reach you somehow. Help you. I couldn’t do it myself because the curse would destroy them, but I could inspire others to do it for me.”

Dream speaks no words or shows any outwards reactions—he simply reaches forward until the back of his fingers brush over your cheek. One knuckle, two, the featherlight touch skims over your skin, burning and mangling your insides. Those cold, ancient eyes shine with some potent emotion you’ve only caught traces of in the past. Never there long enough for you to examine closer. This time, he doesn’t hide. This time it’s his fingers on your cheek.

The door rips open behind you, and Dream’s touch vanishes.

“I know where the pouch is. You two ready to go?” Johanna asks.

Neither of you replies.

Leaning into the cold, coarse stone wall, you survey the raging storm. Better than acknowledging the man standing opposite to you. Johanna had served as an excellent buffer between you on your journey here, snarky and unafraid to throw barbed words or sass back at the Endless.

She’s bold in a way most Constantines you’ve met tend to be. Commendable trait, but a dangerous one. You’ve learned it’s about choosing when and how to present yourself. There are beings out there who make torture into a game. Delight in it, too. It’s always wiser to err on the side of caution until limits arise.

Yet you would welcome Johanna’s presence now. While she went upstairs to visit her ex-girlfriend to make amends and hopefully retrieve Dream’s pouch, you can’t imagine a worse situation she could have left you in.

“I must recover my tools first but return to the Dreaming, Wanderer. You belong there.”

You contemplate not answering. But what would it achieve? You’re not children. How far would this silent act take you?

Instead, you choose to remind him of your stark reality: “You banished me, Lord.”

“I void the banishment.”

You blink at his rapid edict. As if those words had been sitting behind his teeth this entire time.

You cast a dubious glance Dream’s way, your arms crossing over your chest. “Just like that?”

He exhales but one word over the rushing rain, “Yes.”

That somehow makes it worse. No relief or happiness accompanies this pardon. How many times had you desperately wished for him to lift his merciless decree? Only a tiny, pained whisper remains deep in the recess of your mind, calling out a weak why did you do it in the first place?

“Whims of the Endless,” you conclude. “Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.”

It’s not fair to say such a thing. The Endless have been the closest you’ve come to an actual family in the last millennium. Even when you’re intimately aware it’s not sentiment returned. There is a divide between you and the Endless that can never be traversed. They exist outside the bounds of mortal comprehension, and you’re still a cursed mortal.

Perhaps Dream reads this defeat in you, pulls it from the weary slant of your mouth or the despondent creases around your eyes. In the way shadows prop you up rather than you standing inside them.

It’s been a long night, a long century. It will take time to learn how to relax around him again and stop yourself from instinctively flinching whenever he reaches for you.

“I do not wish to be parted from you. Not due to my past actions.”

Utter, uncrackable steel rings through every carefully punctuated vowel. Dream peers at you, unblinking, his hands in his pockets. “Things are different now. I am different. If you allow me, I would like to prove it to you.”

Goosebumps skitter across your flesh. You’re uncertain how to react, what to say, if anything. He is different just in this single night, but…

It doesn’t erase his past actions.

Rustling wings interrupt your charged eye contact. A raven slants its head in your direction, hopping on its feet.

“Sorry to interrupt, Boss. Uh, Lady Dream.”

That jolt you. “I’m not—”

“Wanderer is—”

You both look at each other, both falling silent. Uneasy seconds slither past, and you peer down at the raven, who slides his attention from Dream to you and then back again.

“I’m not Lady of anything. I’m the Wanderer.”

The raven ruffles his feathers, bobbing his head.

“Oh.” Caw. “Well, this is awkward. I’m Matthew.”

Lowering yourself to ground level, you smile at him, inclining your head. “I greet you, Matthew. It’s an honour to meet Dream of the Endless’ raven.”

Caw. Matthew hops towards Dream. “I like her. Can we keep her?”

Dream appears as if he’s fighting back a sigh. “What is it, Matthew?”

“Listen, boss. As once human-now-turned-raven, I just figured I’d warn you. Whatever your friend is doing up there. It’s sure as hell not worrying about your pouch. You’re better off going up there and getting back your stuff personally.”

“He might have a point,” you agree. “You said the helm is in Hell. It’s probably better if I go my way for now. I’ll try to search for leads on the ruby in the meanwhile. Save time.”

“Will you return? Back to the Dreaming?” Dream prompts. Mutely, you rise back to your feet, your smile long since dwindled. “If not for me, then for them.”

Clever, brilliant man. Quite ingenious addition. You’ve refused him plenty in the past, but never them.

“Fine.”

Adjusting the collar, you step towards the awaiting night. Inside, you ball the curse, ripping it by force to obey your will. Pain rakes through your limbs, inflaming your nerves. The more you demand, the steeper the physical toll is each time. At least your pain tolerance after a thousand years of suffering is top-notch.

You’re one foot between dimensions when Dream’s voice snags you. “Wanderer?” Your head slants marginally towards him. “Whatever it is you are doing to control your curse. Cease it. It is hurting you.”

Since when do you care?

You let yourself ripple away without a response.

The Dreaming is rebuilding. But it’s a slow, meticulous process. Dream had returned triumphant from his mission to retrieve his tools, as you had anticipated he would. He’s Dream of the Endless. Even without his instruments, his power is far beyond your ken. Or those foolish enough to assume they can procure it for themselves.

You’ve hardly left the Dreaming since, occupied with nonstop repairs and helping returning dreams and nightmares to readjust. Great numbers began returning unannounced once the news spread about Dream’s return. The caste was the first to be repaired and one with the most noticeable reconstructions. The remainder will require a great deal more work. But Morpheus has been relentless about mending the damage his absence had evoked.

Including you two.

He’s been giving you much-needed space. Indeed more breathing room than you had anticipated, but you’ve made it clear you’re only here to help the Dreaming. With no long-term plans to stay or return the next time you depart.

I do not wish to be parted from you.

No matter how sweetly those words make you ache, you can’t be lulled into forgetting the undeniable reality. And the truth is that while you can forgive Dream, there is no denying it will take time to forget how he once stripped you of choice due to his bruised pride.

“So, you’re a bird who was once mortal.”

“So, you’re a mortal cursed to wander for eternity between realms.”

Your mouth curves into a reluctant grin. “Fair point. How did you become a raven?”

You’ve grown rather fond of Dream’s new raven in the short weeks you’ve known one another. After Jessamy, you hadn’t expected Dream to permit another raven close so soon.

Matthew rustles his feathers, expertly clinching his talons into your shoulder. Your coat is dense enough to void pain, leaving nothing more than passable pressure behind. While Dream has made no comments about your new apparel, you’ve felt his prickling stares on you multiple times in the passing weeks. You’ve debated removing it now that he’s back, but… you couldn’t quite bear to be parted from it.

“Eh, not sure, to be fair. Just kinda did. Flying is handy. The rest is… weird. But I wasn’t a very good person in my previous life, so this isn’t so bad. Protecting dreamers out there. Caw.”

Your eyebrows come together. “How can you be so certain you weren’t a good person?”

The castle corridors smear past you while your feet carry you towards the throne room.

Matthew mulls it over. “Oh, y’know, call it a hunch. How about you? Why were you cursed?”

His curiosity is innocent, but you, too, think over your answer for several paces. You’ve been a complete unknown even to yourself. There are no glimpses into your past, no before. As if it had been so thoroughly wiped, not even a shadow remains. Whatever or whoever you were before assuming your title is lost. You’ve constructed yourself from nothing. Cracked, riddled with human impulses and weakness, driven by emotion, but not all bad.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember.” It’s the truth. Except for that stray moment in Johanna’s office, there’s been no inkling for centuries. “But I don’t think I was a very good person, either.”

Matthew readjusts himself on your shoulder, and you hold your hand over him so he can brace himself. “Well, you’ve changed,” he says conversationally. “We all do. Second chance and all that.”

A certain Dream Lord springs to mind at the raven’s words. Are we cemented into who we’re destined to be, or is there room for permanent and meaningful change? Dream is trying. Those years locked away have altered something. You want to believe him again, but it’s not so straightforward.

Eventually, you settle on a halfhearted, “You’re right.”

You’re nearly at the throne room when Dream’s throaty words slice through you, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“—The Corinthian.”

Your heart catapults to your throat. Dream’s head slants in your direction. Lucienne follows suit. They both eye you closely, but you don’t let anything show coming to a gradual stop between them.

“Are you aware he is out there?” Dream wonders. Ice lingers in his mild tone. “Feeding on the dreamers he was meant to serve.”

You’ve never stopped being aware of the Corinthian.

“Yes. I tried to seek him out in the waking world,” you say, swallowing thickly. Searching for more words, you further admit, “To bring him back. But I didn’t have much luck tracking him down.”

Over a century. All those people. You don’t dare to admit the true extent of Corinthian’s cruelty. Dream would spare no mercy to his nightmare if he knew. And all these years—all those lonely, painful years—you’ve been stuck one step behind, unable to save those Corinthian has unjustly slaughtered. He wasn’t trying to hide. He was sending a message. One you couldn’t bare to examine closer.

You’ve failed to stop him. Somehow Corinthian keeps finding ways to stay ahead, and blood coats your hands as much as his.

Your nightmare. The initial realisation had torn you asunder. Corinthian had never been kind or gracious, had never expressed anything more than finely laced contempt for humanity but ripping eyes out? Exhibiting bodies as if he were decorating his surroundings? This wasn’t accidental or self-defence; it was deliberate cruelty. Blood savoured and shed with clear intent.

Once Corinthian had been a part of you as much as Dream, if not more so. The one who has been steadfast by your side. You and I, together. He’s the one you trusted the most and relied on the most. Who knew you, arguably, the best.

You were there to see him come into existence. Smiled at him and guiding his first steps, heard his name being spoken aloud for the first time. He was the first creation Dream ever shared with you. Corinthian would always be the first and most precious. He built a house inside you. A space no one could ever touch or destroy where you house your memories together.

And now he’s painting that house with the blood of innocents.

If you don’t uncover some way to locate the nightmare first, and soon, Dream will find him instead. There will be no mercy then, no second chances. Dream Lord has already taken everything from you once. You’re no longer scared to lose it again. Not if it’s for Corinthian.

“This is my fault. Had I been here, fulfilling my function—”

Dream’s voice rips you from your thoughts, leaving you squinting at his profile.

Lucienne frowns at once. “It was not your fault, my Lord.”

Dream closes the census, his words unusually subdued, “No? Then whose?”

“You didn’t ask to be captured.” Dream stills at your words, nudging his chin slightly in your direction. Guarded hope gazes back at you, so you continue, “Or be held captive for over a century. It wasn’t your fault.”

His shoulders droop slightly, then hoist upwards, less unburdened than moments prior.

Lucienne clears her throat.

“There is yet more news, Lord. There are rumours among the dream folk… of a vortex.”

You’ve heard rumours about vortexes in the past. Unprecedented phenomenon no one had an explanation for—not even Dream himself.

A mortal capable of lucid dreaming so powerful they could cross dreams of others, thin and bring down walls between Worlds and eventually destroy the Dreaming. The final part wasn’t particularly comforting to consider, especially when a vortex—the first of this age—has manifested in a young woman called Rose Walker.

While Dream is happy to allow Rose to be, for now, hoping it would attract his missing Major Arcana—Gault, Fiddler’s Green and the Corinthian—to her, you more than share in Lucienne’s concern about the current state of matters.

“Why would Gault sever Jed Walker from the Dreaming?”

Lucienne meets your question with a blunt answer, “He is no ordinary child, is he? He’s Rose Walker’s brother.”

Dream rests seated on the staircase, listening to your confab. You’ve been trying to discover Jed Walker’s whereabouts. Gault was the last nightmare to haunt Jed, after which he had all but vanished both from the waking world but, more unusually, the Dreaming as well.

Muffled footsteps sound behind you, then, “Excuse me. I’m Rose Walker. What do you know about my brother Jed?”

Your attention snaps towards a young, unfamiliar woman standing in the throne room. She leans on the shorter side with smooth, dark skin and round, pleasant features. Rainbow kisses her hair, colours loud and bold across each individual dreadlock. Delirium would love it is your first thought. Your second is that you love it just as much.

Lucienne, who stands beside you, appears utterly baffled by the newcomer's presence. Understandably so, aside from you, she’s likely never witnessed anyone simply stroll into the heart of Dreaming this way. Even you, more often than not, enter the Dreaming on the bridge or close by and enter the castle via the entrance.

Dream stretches to his feet, focusing on the young mortal woman.

“You are welcome here, Rose Walker,” he greets, his voice reverberating.

Rose, in return, looks just as confused as you all do. “Who are you?”

Lucienne straightens. “You have somehow dreamed your way into an audience with Lord Morpheus. The King of Dreams. And now you must go.”

“Lucienne,” Dream cautions.

A small, disgruntled sound leaves Lucienne. “She shouldn’t be here.”

Dream all but glides down the staircase, his curiosity about Rose’s presence piqued. “But I should like her to stay.”

Noting how mutely freaked out Rose appears, you venture closer, bridging the gap with placating slowness.

“I’m Wanderer,” you introduce yourself with a reassuring smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Rose.”

Rose relaxes slightly, but her confusion persists. “Nice to meet you, too. I think. What is this place?”

“It’s called the Dreaming,” you explain smoothly, taking another step closer. You gesture around yourself. “This is where you come when you fall asleep.”

Immediate hope ignites in her dark eyes. “Is my brother here?”

Your smile dims. “No, but we can help. I can help find Jed. In the waking world.”

Rose examines you for a tense beat, searching for something that goes beyond skin deep. They do it often, humans you offer your help to. In some vain hope they can see into your motives, perhaps. Ages have made the populace more chary and unwilling to trust strangers. After witnessing the horrors humanity is prone to unleashing on one another, you don’t blame her. Or anyone else.

“How does that work?” Rose poses. “I thought I was dreaming?”

A faint smile ghosts over your face. “I can travel between dimensions.”

Rose waits for the laugh, for the expected I’m joking, silly, but it doesn’t come. She ducks her head, processing. “Okay. Yeah. That makes sense, I guess. It totally doesn't, but…”

Dream’s deep voice is a hook from behind you, “Much still needs to be done here, Wanderer.”

You don’t look his way.

“You’re the ruler of the realm, Lord Morpheus. Nothing here can’t be done without me.”

His following silence speaks volumes, him choosing to plan with Rose on how to locate her brother, even more so.

Dreaming walking is a rare and powerful ability. While realms and dimensions are your domain, dreams remain closed off to you. Therefore, the situation evolves swiftly into a waiting game, anticipating how quickly Rose will be able to navigate to her brother’s dreams under Dream’s guidance.

It also becomes a race on your end. Desperation drives you. Your task is singular and relatively simple: locate Corinthian first. There are spells, Johanna had informed you, leaning over a book written entirely in Latin, Hob by your side. Spells, she insists, that can cloak you, guide you, and locate things or people.

If only you offer something in return.

For the first time in a century, you have a sorcerer on your side you can trust. Once Gault is found, Dream’s attention will inevitably shift towards Corinthian and Fiddler’s Green.

So when you catch sight of the rippling, purple-blue form of Gault in the throne room one afternoon, it stops you dead in your tracks. You’ve spent the day working with Abel and Cain, ignoring their ceaseless arguments, only coming back to the castle to check in with Lucienne on your progress.

Dream brushes past the nightmare silently, heading towards his throne.

“Gault,” you choke out, quelling your unease. “It’s good to see you.”

It’s not contempt Gault regards you with, but something closer to disappointment.

“Is it, Wanderer?” she questions in a half-hiss. “You are more blind than I feared. You have returned to a man who cares not for others. Not even you.”

“Silence.”

The castle trembles at the foundation from the utter, horrible power that rings through Dream’s low baritone. Lucienne winces mutely.

But Gault is as audacious as you recall, stubbornly fierce in her drive. “Do you have any idea what his life is like in the waking world?”

Jed Walker. Your stomach sinks.

“Humans cannot live in dreams,” Dream bites out, nothing but a cutting velvet behind you. “As long as he stayed there, the child had no life nor hope for one.”

“The boy is being abused. He’s suffering.”

Pained understanding sinks its roots into you, already morphing your objectives. Once more, you’ve been selfish, focused only on Corinthian, when Jed Walker, a boy you promised to find, is being hurt somewhere.

“You abused that suffering to build a Dreaming you could rule,” Dream accuses quietly, his words brittle.

Is this what the nightmare did? Controlled Jed’s dreams, separated him from the Dreaming to what?

“I had no wish to rule,” Gault rebukes. “I merely wish to be a Dream and not a Nightmare. To inspire, rather than to frighten.”

Gault was helping. In Jed’s dreams, he could taste happiness, brief as it may be. She could make sure no nightmares haunted the boy. Spare him more misery and dread. Lucienne draws a deep, understanding breath, mutely arriving at the same conclusion.

“That choice is not yours to make,” Dream states icily. “We do not choose to be created. Nor do we choose how we are made.”

Your stomach cramps.

The nightmare nods; muted, swirling lights dancing beneath the shapechanger’s skin. “That is true. But we can change.”

“No.” The Endless speaks, and in that lone word, time is near undone. It is you in Gault’s place, hearing Dream banish you again. “We are, each of us, born with responsibilities. Even I am not free to choose to be other than I am. Nor is anyone.”

An invisible knife slips between your ribs, twisting.

“If that were true,” Gault challenges softly, unbowed. “Why did the other dreams and nightmares choose to leave this place when you had gone away?”

Lucienne cuts in before Dream can react, “Not all of us left, and nearly all have returned. Some believed even when no one else would.”

With the wilful reminder, the nightmare’s attention goes to you. Despite being far older, you feel small under Gault’s percipient gaze. She’s strong and proud and will not plead for clemency, but you almost wished she did. If only to ease the wrath brewing at your back.

“You say you love humanity, Wanderer,” Gault begins purposefully. “You are one of them, yet you choose to be here. Serve blindly to one who has treated you like nothing. You will not be any different than his other lovers. Discarded when he is finished with you. You may have returned out of love, but not others. They came back from fear. They saw what he did to you. What would he do to them? But I am no longer afraid.”

The silence is suffocating. Even Lucienne has frozen in shock at Gault’s bold declaration.

Love. Yes, maybe you did return for love. But it goes so much further than just Dream. It always has.

Your nape tingles. Something dark and insidious brushes past your ankles, a feline weaving between your limbs. Your eyes widen at Dream’s shadow slithering across the pale marble and towards the nightmare. The atmosphere crumples, pulsing, cooling. Each crevice of darkness seems to accentuate, growing in magnitude.

“You should be afraid.” Dream’s words are blacker than deepest night, colder than bleakest winter. “A nightmare’s purpose is to reveal the dreamer’s fears so they might face them.”

Your body half turns towards him. “Morpheus.”

“Perhaps a few thousand years in the darkness will reveal your fears,” he continues, stony.

Gault’s legs disintegrate before your eyes, devoured by Dream’s shadow. The Darkness; an endless prison crafted by an Endless being. “Dream.”

He pays you no heed. There’s no mercy, no softness to be found on his face, only something ancient and cold that cannot be reasoned with. You’ve seen this look once, tasted the poisonous cruelty he can inflict so effortlessly.

“Better that than to make others afraid,” Gault affirms shakily. Her torso goes next, ripping, flaking— “Even a nightmare can dream, my Lord.”

Your vocal cords hurt. “Dream, stop.”

And then Gault is gone. The shadow vanishes immediately, and the throne room instantly lightens. Lucienne hangs her head, hiding her unhappy expression. You gape, fixating on the spot Gault once stood.

“I have disappointed you.”

Those words are directed at you, but you say nothing.

This. This is what will happen to Corinthian if Dream uncovers him first. If you can’t convince Corinthian to come back, cease doing what he’s doing.

“Wait.”

It takes several moments for awareness to sink back in, to realise you’re stalking away, your muscles rigid beneath your skin.

Dream’s gait is unwavering behind you.

“For what?” you call back, strangled.

“I did what I must,” he says.

Who is he trying to convince? You or himself?

Your footsteps beat on the marble. Even your pace betrays your emotions, the bubbling agitation streaming through your veins.

Not considering consequences, you halt abruptly, posing a biting, “You mean being obtuse?”

You spin to face him just as your words sink in, watching those distant stars spark to life at once. Dream’s features harden.

“You dare—”

“Yes, I dare.” Each word escapes from behind clenched teeth. You close the distance between you in two strides. “I respect you, Dream. I’ve always respected what you are and what you do. I respect your purpose and your duty. How hard this responsibility is. I’m saying this not because of disrespect but because of that respect. Because you need to hear it.”

Your hand flies back towards the throne room, your index finger stabbing at empty air, “That was cruel. Gault only wanted to be something more, something better—to change.”

“Gault severed a child from the Dreaming,” Dream reminds coolly. “She broke my laws.”

“She did it to give that boy hope. An escape. No matter how brief.” You suck in a shaky breath, your fingernails biting into your palms. Your following words flow quieter, fragile, “Do you know how many times I wished for sleep? For dreams? To escape my misery, if only for a moment? You don’t understand that hurt. You never understood what it’s like. Not because you can’t but because you don’t dare to try.”

For the first time since his return, Dream’s features soften, his self-righteousness draining. His arms jerk at his sides, and then he settles again. You’re not sure why you foolishly hoped he would reach for you, pull you to him, and promise you would never again experience such pain.

“You said you changed, but what I just witnessed was the exact same man who banished me without hesitation.” As you verbalise your thoughts, another certitude becomes abundantly clear. “The same man who would do it again,” you add tightly, upset.

Dream catches your elbow, each finger folding delicately around your arm, drawing you nearer. “No. Never.”

“Oh, Dream. My Dream.” Your palm settles gently on his cheek, skin warming when connected with his. Something visibly crumples in him at the touch, the fondness in your hushed call, his eyelids fluttering. “I wish I believed that.”

You let him go, pulling away from his hold. He doesn’t impede you. You wish he did. You wish he held on so tightly you could forget everything else.

“Where are you going?”

His controlled question nips at your heels as you walk away.

“To the waking world,” you reply, pivoting on your heels. “I’m going to do the thing this damn curse has ever been good for: help people. And it begins with finding and saving Jed Walker.”

“Wanderer, stop—”

Your smile is grim. “I am not your subject. I wander where I please, Dream Lord.”

And then you’re gone.

The Library of Dreams is silent apart from rustling parchment. He can will things into being, but Morpheus discovers there’s little desire in him for an easy solution. Instead, he searches manually, walking through each bookshelf separately. It gives him time to mull matters over and search for reasons why things keep cracking. Just when things were starting to return to normal, this.

It was going so well. Now you’re gone once more. The weight sitting on his chest is intolerable. He has to move, occupy himself with something lest he goes mad.

You may have returned out of love, but not others.

Could it be? You came back, you searched, even after all he’s done. Hope—foolish and undoubtedly mislaid—kindles in his heart.

I just wanted to be with you. I would have stayed by your side forever if only you asked.

He could hope for nothing more, but it is not so simple. Or is it? Could it be? If you both fought for this, would any outside circumstances even matter? Morpheus could search for a way to undo the curse. There must be a way to do it without resulting in your death. Without shattering your destiny. Could he not write you a new future? One by his side?

Phantom heat lingers on his cheek.

“Lord Morpheus,” Lucienne’s nonplussed acknowledgement ushers him back to the present. She stands at the sight of him. “I was not expecting you here.”

“Continue with your duties, Lucienne. I do not require you at this time.”

The cool command, their own… disagreement, suffuses the air between them.

“As you wish.”

Did he lash out? After you disappeared, he can scarcely recall what words left his mouth. All he knows is how, at that moment, everything felt terribly out of touch. Unreachable to him. Never had he felt a century pass more acutely. Things once familiar and dear to him have altered shape in the time away. And Morpheus no longer knows how to hold them or care for them. He knows not how to exist in a world that seemingly no longer needs him.

What is his purpose if they have found ways to live without him?

His kingdom is bare bones. His subjects are distrusting.

And in the torrent of questions, he spies the subject of his search. Always coming to him in a time of need.

Morpheus heads towards a shelf to his right, picking up the thickest volume on the rack. Not many can challenge this book in size and density. He foresaw no less.

“My Lord, is that—”

“Yes.”

Lucienne loosens a shallow breath. “Are you quite certain?”

He holds the tome closer to him. “More than.”

You don’t understand that hurt. You never understood what it’s like. Not because you can’t but because you don’t dare to try.

You were right to say it. He’s been avoiding your book for a thousand years. At first, Morpheus did not care to dwell deeper. Later because he started fearing what he might learn from those pages.

Lucienne steeples her fingers, eyeing him over her round glasses. “Sir, I must warn you, what you will discover between those pages will not be kind.”

“That’s precisely why I must do it,” he admits softly, avoiding her shrewd appraisal. “So I may, at long last, understand.”

Morpheus doesn’t linger, stepping from one shadow into the next, appearing directly in his throne room. He journeys up the stairs one at a time, the thick tome tucked under his arm. There is a voice deep down that mocks his hesitancy. What has he to fear from bound pages? Yet another story when he is the king of them?

But it is no ordinary tale, belonging to no ordinary individual.

Oh, Dream. My Dream. I wish I believed that.

Even seated on his throne, Morpheus lets the velvety, black leather book rest in his lap for long, hesitant minutes. On the supple cover, engraved in bold, golden letters, sits not a name but instead a title.

The Wanderer

His thumb kisses delicately over the title, then again. Again. Again. Again.

Morpheus draws a muted breath, the sound all but lost in the raging cosmos, and cracks open the only book he’s stayed away from for over a thousand years.

an: Just the home stretch to go, eh?

Thank you, everyone. For being here and reading and just being absolutely wonderful, talented, and unfailingly kind. Look forward to hearing your thoughts : )

#the sandman #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman netflix #sandman x reader #sandman fic #morpheus x fem!reader #dream x fem!reader #sandman netflix #sandman dream #sandman imagine #dream imagine #fanfiction #fic: today i bury you in me

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heizours · 2 years

Text

KISS IT BETTER

summary. the greatest lengths, that he is willing to do for you

tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur

cw. scara's leak voicelines regarding ei, implied torture in dottore's part, kaeya lore spoilers (?), just those and over all a pure fluff abt what are this genshin men willing to do for you <3

feat. childe, albedo, pantalone, ayato, kaeya, scaramouche, dottore, diluc, zhongli, kazuha, cyno

CHILDE ── he never stops talking about you in front of his family. everytime he comes home to them, he would start going on and on about how such an amazing and loving significant other you are, and his family didn't have the heart to interrupt him because every word and confession that leaves from his lips, are all genuine and pure from his heart. the only way you will find out about this, is when he brings you to meet them for the first time, and in an instant his parents and his siblings are all smitten by you.

ALBEDO ── he has a journal dedicated to you, consisting of the little things and habits about you, when is your birthday, what are your likes and dislikes, the date of your anniversary, the promises he had noted while being in a relationship with you, such memories that he managed to capture and so on. sometimes, it would come to a point where he's starting to not mind of reading every single page of the book, over and over again - if you ever catch him doing it, he will just swiftly reply "well, i just find this more interesting and eye catching. do you want to read it with me?."

PANTALONE ── he spends all his fortune on you, whenever the both of you are out on dates and something catches your eye for more than 0.1 second, that product is in your hands in an instant. you, at least tried to tell him to lessen down his habit of buying everything for you when he almost bought a whole island meant for you, but all he ever tells you is "what should i do with this mora then? darling, this fortune isn't worthy to me when i have someone as you."

AYATO ── he will boldly break and reject countless arrange marriages for you. sure, it is his obligation to get married, but to be paired with someone he couldn’t see as his significant other? he would rather dispose it, than let his marriage suffer just like how his childhood was. why would he look for more if he has someone as perfect as you? if they prefer to not listen to his pleas, then so be it. he would cross that line for you, even if it takes for some of the citizens to turn their backs on him - after all, it’s you and him against the world. yes? right.

KAEYA ── he will always choose you, over both mondstadt and khaenri'ah without a single hesitation. sometimes, he just couldn't handle the pressure in his shoulders, that there will come a time that he will have to choose between his homeland and the nation he had considered where he lived in - that is until he met you. suddenly, his whole perspective of life changes and his mind was now unexpectedly on set. he had decided - if he can run away, then he would, with you and would live in a far away land where only the two of you would live in it and grow old together.

SCARAMOUCHE ── he is willing to change himself for you, to the point that he would take the risk to reset himself. resetting himself, where he would be back to his old wandering self again after being told to roam around, as free as he wishes like how his creator and mother told him. if he is going to do that, then he doesn't mind one bit - if it means that he's going to be destined to meet you again, but this time under normal circumstances.

DOTTORE ── he orders his clones to always keep an eye on you. knowing that he is always hibernating in his lab doing who knows what, he can't always be by your side all the time. if ever danger comes to you, that is too close from his liking, he would not hesitate to order his clones to protect you from it, and bring the said danger to him in an instant, who even had the audacity to lay a single finger on you. maybe, they would be the perfect test subjects for this mind blowing experiment he had decided to work on?

DILUC ── he would ask your parents' consent first before courting you, and he is more than prepared to prove himself worthy of being titled as your lover. he would also proclaim that you also do not have to rush yourself in answering him, he is willing to wait even if it takes forever. because if he could? then he would.

ZHONGLI ── he can give you the 5 love languages. words of affirmation? you bet, he's going to put a whole power point presentation on why he loves you so much. physical touch? he can be not clingy at all times, but expect lingering and soft touches with him every now and then. receiving gifts? he keeps every single gift you are giving him, whether it's considered to be given on a special or an ordinary day. quality time? this man is fit to be a househusband, he's going to give you all the quality time that you need when you are in need of one. acts of service? he's a gentlemen, and you bet he won't let you lift a finger.

KAZUHA ── he will not raise his voice at you when the both of you, are in an argument. he would scold you, but in a calm, gentle and soft spoken manner - and the respect and love for you is still there. he would point what was your mistake in that certain situation, but would also make sure that every word that comes out from him, wouldn't struck a nerve in your side or would do anything to make you more upset than it is.

CYNO ── he will take some time to explain what does his jokes mean. for other people, he just complains about how they can't understand the jokes that comes out from him, but for you? he'll spend hours and hours just so you can get it. and if he makes you smile or laugh in the slightest because of it? it miraculously cures the tiredness that he had endured all day long.

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iikatsukii · 1 year

Text

betray, believe.

synopsis: you are beyond pissed off at ao’nung for leaving your twin outside the reefs. how can you trust someone who continues to betray you?

pairings: ao’nung x loak’stwin!reader

warnings: cussin’ thats it. oh and minor violence and one a drop of blood.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: yall i don't know what this is so please don't ask

you had felt stabbed in the back before. it isn't a pleasant feeling when you trust someone and they end up betraying you. but no matter how in love with ao'nung you were. this was the final straw for you.

you had been crying all day, arguing with and avoiding ao'nung because your twin, lo'ak, was missing.

"ao'nung, leave me alone!!" you screamed over your shoulder, walking away from the metkayina boy who was trying to walk after you.

"y/n, please just listen to me. it was a mistake. it was meant to be a harmless prank–" you cut him off, appalled by what he was saying.

"mistake? harmless prank? leaving my twin brother outside the reef was a fucking joke to you, ao'nung? in case you do not fucking remember, WE ARE NOT FROM HERE! we do not know how to get around, and we do not know the outside of the reefs!! so how the fuck did you even think that he would be able to find his way back? let alone defend himself with no weapon! did you even think before you did this? did you think about how i would've felt if he got hurt–?" every curse word was punctuated with a shove to ao'nung's chest, but you couldn't even finish your sentence, getting choked up at the thought of your brother being hurt. more than sad, you were furious.

you had told ao'nung time and time again that you wanted to give him a chance but that he had to get over the childish beef he had with your twin brother lo'ak and your sister kiri. he would repeatedly promise to leave them alone, and you would foolishly believe him. every single time one of your siblings came back, telling you that ao'nung had messed with them, it felt like you were being stabbed in the back all over again. it didn't feel good, and you ensured that you gave the boy an earful after every incident.

but this time was different.

ao'nung had left your twin outside the reef, alone, with no weapons and no way home. lo'aks ilu showed up injured earlier, the healers immediately trying to tend to its wounds. however, the imagery of the blood trailing behind the ilu could only bring paranoid thoughts to your head.

if his ilu barely made it alive. then what happened to your brother.

the boy who had fallen head over heels for you was conflicted. of course, he wasn't thinking about how you would've felt. he was just thinking about getting back at your brother for the brawl they had earlier. but never in a million years did he think you would've reacted this bad. granted, your reaction was 100% valid. if someone he loved had done this to his sister, he wouldn't have even given them a chance to ask for forgiveness. yet here you were, willingly arguing with him, giving him a chance to explain himself even though he knows all his sorrys and pleas are falling on deaf ears.

"y/n, i am sorry. i will do anything. please just let me explain." ao'nung was desperate. you had been like a breath of fresh air the second he spoke to you. he has never found anything that's made him happier than you. he couldn't lose you because of a stupid mistake.

before you could say another word, the horns of the clan were blown, indicating the missing person had been found. you couldn't tell if your heart sank or grew warm.

he's okay

your brother is back, and he's alive. he's okay

you ran to where you noticed villagers gathering, seeing lo'ak thanking the man for returning him to shore.

"lo'ak," you called, running over to your twin, pulling him into the tightest hug possible before hearing him wince, pulling back just as fast.

"oh my gosh, are you okay? are you hurt?" right now, you felt more like lo'ak's mom than his twin sister, but it made him happy to see that someone had actually been worried about him being gone. ignoring your question, lo'ak rested a hand on the back of your head, bringing your face to his chest as he pet your head, soothing the sobs you left out.

"i'm sorry for worrying you, baby sister." lo'ak said, looking down at you. in all honesty, he was just as worried about you as you were about him. all he could think about was if they were messing with you and kiri while he was abandoned out at sea.

you scoffed, pushing your brother back. "i'm not a baby; we're twins."

your conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the chief, his wife, and his son. you glared at ao'nung, ready to out him for his actions, but your brother, face looking just as mad as you, started walking towards the boy who had faced your rage earlier. your father was quick to get to the scene, though, preventing lo'ak from doing anything stupid.

"woah, woah, let me get a look at you, yeah?" barely briefly looking over his son, jake spoke to the people once more. "he's fine! just a few scratches." your father announced, causing you to roll your eyes. your mother approaches swiftly to see her youngest son standing, alive and safe.

"i pray for the strength that i will not pluck the eyeballs out of my youngest son–" but you cut your mother, startling everyone.

"lo'ak has done nothing wrong," you said out loud. "this was not his fault, and you will not punish him for something that is someone else's wrongdoing," you said, making eye contact with ao'nung as you spoke.

"y/n is right. my son knows better than to take him outside the reef." tonowari pushed his son down by his neck, the boy kneeling in apology. "the blame is his."

you sighed, happy that tonowari wasn't making this a bigger issue than it needed to be. you were ready to hear ao'nung's apology until you heard a different voice speak up.

"no. this is not ao'nungs fault. this was my idea. he tried to talk me out of it. really–" your brother spoke up.

"really? lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan do not say lies. he took you there and left you defenseless, knowing you know nothing about the reefs. it is his fault alone, and i will not allow you to take the blame for this." you were stubborn. why was lo'ak trying to take the blame?

"no, y/n. it was me– AH!" jake grabbed lo'ak's arm way harder than necessary.

"this was your idea, boy–" jake was cut off by a loud hiss, unsure of where it had come from until he looked towards you. your fangs were bared, and your eyes shot knives into your father's.

you had never hissed before. never a day in your life. unlike the rest of your family, you always wanted to choose peace over war. but for your brother, you would go to war and back if it meant protecting him. you were tired of how your father treated you like his perfect little princess but then treated your twin like he was nothing but scum to this family. your hiss shocked everyone; it was vicious, cruel, and protective. not many noticed, but you even had your hand near your bone knife, ready to draw it if your dad decided to test your resolve anymore.

"let him go. you are not about to take him home so you can degrade him like you have done every single day of his life." your voice dripped with malice, 100% directed toward your father. everyone around you remained speechless. "how can you call yourself a father when all you do is give your children orders. this is a fucking family, and until you get that through that thick ass skull of yours, you may not lay another hand on my brother, so i suggest you remove your hand before i do it for you, jake sully," calling your father by his real name is what turned on the lights on jakes brain. he started to realize how orderly he treated his kids, never really allowing them to be kids.

the target of your rage changed quickly as you grabbed your bone knife, turned, and pounced on ao'nung. the boy lands on his back, his hands up in surrender as you held your knife to his neck. nobody bothered to try to remove you from the boy, deeming you out of control and not wanting you to unnecessarily injure anyone. ronal saw how tonowari was going to remove you from his son but halted his actions.

"–and you, ao'nung, how can you call yourself the future leader of this clan when you put the lives of innocent people who seek refuge in your clan in anger? is this what the metkayina are to expect of their future leader? how could you endanger someone who has no knowledge of life in the water? hm? what would you have done if he died ao'nung? because i sure know what i would've done if he had–" you said, pressing your knife into his neck harder, noticing crimson starting to reach the surface. before you could do any real damage, your mother pulled you off the boy.

"excuse us." neytiri said as she dragged her twins home into their mauri. she pulled all the curtains, closing all the flaps, so their family could have some privacy.

"are you crazy!!? holding a knife to the olo'eyktans' son's neck!? are you trying to get us kicked out of this clan?!" your mother scolded, hitting you upside your head. you hissed back at her, pissed that she even had the nerve to question your actions right now.

"why are you always so concerned with reputation and practice and people. WORRY ABOUT YOUR DAMN KIDS. LO'AK COULDVE DIED," you yelled back.

"he didn't. he's fine-" your father tried to interject, but you interrupted him.

"and that's exactly your fucking problem, sully. he. could. have. died. and all you can think of is 'well he didn't. he's fine' FUCK THAT. YOU DON'T CARE THAT YOU ALMOST LOST YOUR SON?!" you asked the man before you, who you were beyond pissed off at.

"i do care, y/n. also, i am your father. watch how you speak to me, young lady."

"if you're a father, then fucking act like one instead of acting like quaritch. if you wanna be a man who gives orders and doesn't care about the lives of others, then fine. but i am done. WE are done," you finished your sentence, grabbing your brother's wrist as the two of you called for your ilus. lo'ak said he wanted to show you something, so the two of you swam back out to three brothers rock.

that night you met payakan, and both you and lo'ak bonded with the tulkun.

the next few days came and went, and you felt like things were starting to change.

your father apologized to all of you. he called a family meeting, apologizing to each of his kids individually for his wrongdoings as a father. not only did he apologize, though, but he also started being a father. he would go hunting with neteyam, focusing on enjoying time with his son rather than correcting his form and nagging him for missing a shot. he would go with kiri to the spirit tree so she could connect to it just so he could make sure she was safe. he would play on the beach with tuk, splashing around with her, playing any silly games she asked him to play.

you felt like a family. he had especially been trying to make it up to you and lo'ak, your brother, more than you. it was a bit weird for lo'ak at first, but once he got comfortable, they were inseparable.

now that all is right with your family, it gives you more time to think about yourself and the empty feeling in your heart. you sat alone on the shore, allowing the tide to brush against your legs as you stared into the sea.

"y/n," the voice was one you hadn't heard in a while. mainly because you had been avoiding the boy, but you knew this intervention was inevitable.

"what do you want, fish boy." hearing you call him by the old insult you used to call him hurt, but he didn't comment on it because he knew he deserved it.

"i know my apologies mean nothing to you. but please just hear me out. i promise after this, if you really want, i won't ever speak to you again, just let me make peace with you. please," you could hear how hoarse his voice was, almost as if he had been crying before he got here. you turned to look at him, his red puffy eyes confirming your suspicions.

"you have sixty seconds to explain yourself," you told the boy, not really in the mood to hear his excuses. when you noticed he hadn't moved from where he stood, you looked over your shoulder.

"fifty-nine…" you said menacingly, but it got the boy out of whatever trance he was in. he quickly came to sit next to you, clearing his throat as he began to speak.

"sevin, look, i am so sorry, okay? i know that means nothing to you right now, but i really do mean it." the boy started. his hand came up to the bandage on his neck, bringing him back to that night. he wasn't the slightest bit upset that you had almost killed him. in fact, he was about to accept fate had you dragged the knife across his throat. "i have been thinking about what you said that night, and you are right. to behave like that as someone who is supposed to lead this clan is unacceptable. i made sure my father issued the proper punishments for myself and the guys who helped me." you scoffed, rolling your eyes at his words. so what? he got punished. if it were up to you, you would've taken his ass to the forest and left him there, just like he did your brother, to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"i have also been training like crazy because i want to be an olo'eyktan worthy of serving and protecting my people and my family. i want to be worthy enough to protect you. so please let me prove myself to you. y/n, you are the light of my life. from the day you got here, i have been drawn to you, so please let me earn your forgiveness." he said, putting a hand on your shoulder. you shrugged him off, shying away, not wanting to meet his eyes.

and then his hand guided your chin, turning your face so the two of you made eye contact.

"let me earn you, y/n. i will court you the way an omatikayan man should–"

"you know nothing of the omatikaya ways." you hissed. there was no real bite to it as you processed his words. though you were still upset, you could see how genuine he was being. he really was trying, and you hated how your heart begged you to believe him this one last time.

"i will ask your father and your brothers for help. right after, i ask for their forgiveness and their blessing. i want to do this right, but only you're willing to let me." it felt like falling all over again. you were so internally conflicted, you wanted to hate him, but you wanted to love him. wanted to punch and kiss him. wanted to bury him but also marry him and have his kids. your brain and your heart were at war.

he's only lied to you.

but you're in love with him.

he's not trustworthy.

everyone makes mistakes.

who's to say he isn't lying now?

i can see it in his eyes.

"you're being honest?" you asked him breathlessly.

you don't know when your body turned to face him or when you placed your hands on his cheeks, but it only helped you look into his eyes.

"i swear my life on it. i want nothing more than to make you happy, sevin. seeing you cry and upset, i never want to see you unhappy ever again. especially if it is my own doing." ao'nung made sure he didn't break eye contact with you so you could read into him, allowing himself to be an open book.

"how did you know i would forgive you?" you asked, unsure of how he knew you would forgive him before you knew you would forgive him.

"you are wearing the apology gifts i have been sending you. the top, that bracelet, the shells in your hair. you even have the beads in your braids, sevin. i knew that even if you didn't realize, you still harbored a small bit of love for me, so i knew if i tried just one more time, maybe, just maybe, you would realize it too." you held the boy you loved close to you, sighing as your heart once again felt complete.

"i am so sorry, sevin–"

"ao'nung, if you apologize to me one more time, i swear i will feed you to my ikran for lunch tomorrow," you said as you leaned against him. ao'nung hesitated for a second before allowing himself to relax against your touch. you had forgiven him, so there was no reason to be tense anymore. from here on, he had vowed to himself to never be the reason you wore anything a smile.

#ao'nung x reader #ao'nung #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar wotw #avatar 2 #avatar #awotw x reader #awotw #awow x reader #atwow x you #atwow x reader #lo'ak x twin!reader #i have a thing for twins leave me alone #you'll never not be a twin in the sully family

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