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venus-maneater · 6 months

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a loyal dog’s reward ii. | yan! criston cole

yandere / obsessed ! au

fem! targaryen princess! reader

part i

synopsis. suffering an injury from a tournament, criston has to deal with seeing you alongside his temporary replacement. fortunately, you weren’t interested in teasing too much this time, trying to distract yourself from your sister beginning her labors, and you were happy to cheer your poor mutt up.

note; I’ve decided to make this a series with no real plot lol 😭 if being attracted to criston cole is a crime then lock me up !! this chapter took a mind of its own bc this was not the original plot and it’s twice as long as part i

WARNING(s): obsessive / possessive behavior, manipulation, violence, thoughts of violence, implied murder, blood, injury, JEALOUSY, nosebleeds, talk of bastards and having bastard children, Rhaenyra gives birth, allusions to sex but no actual smut, cole def has a breeding kink y’all

Ser Criston Cole, your ever-so-loyal shield, always said yes when you asked him to enter tourneys. He knew how much you enjoyed them, and relished in your attention as he succeeded in competition. There were only two real downsides to tournaments for him: the hours he had to spend apart from you, and the injuries. Criston had always excelled at anything physical, but he was only mortal. He was just a man who could be maimed or murdered just like any other. It served to remind him of the status gap between you: he was a man while you were born from dragons.

He kept his eyes on your form in the nobles’ box until it was his turn. This was typical behavior from him, he was nothing but devoted to you. Since you’d discovered his true feelings, you gave him more attention than before. You entertained his tendencies, teasing him sometimes but always reassuring him at the end of the day. You wanted no one but him.

“Oh, don’t fret, my Criston.” You’d tut, “I could never replace you. You’re the only guard dog for me.”

You played with his feelings occasionally, trying to get a rise out of him, but he quickly found that he didn’t mind. His reward at the end made all his anger worth it. He never blamed you either, it was never your fault that men didn’t know how to leave you alone.

He wondered now if this was one of your attempts at making him jealous.

The large man who stood obediently behind you was the one taking over Criston’s position as he competed in the tournament. Usually, another Kingsguard member would take over, but this particular Knight had something to prove. He was highborn, from some house in the Vale, with wide shoulders and a somewhat handsome face. The two men looked nothing alike; the Knight next to you was pale, hazel-eyed, and thin-haired.

He doubted it.

You didn’t like men other than Criston Cole guarding you, you’d expressed so before. They’re boring and untrustworthy, you insisted. Your words made his chest puff out with pride. He liked that he was the only one you truly trusted with your life; you knew he would protect you. You chose him to protect you.

To be honest, you didn’t even seem interested in the Knight from the Vale; you looked stiff and bored, which concerned your sworn shield. You loved tournaments, you loved when he won things in your honor. Why don’t you look excited?

Soon enough, it was his turn again. With your flowery red favor around his wrist, he got into position.

You perked up a bit when you saw that it was Criston’s turn once more. You’d been rather stiff most of the event, and you partially blamed it on your boring temporary guard. The man was flat; no personality to work with at all. It bummed you out honestly, he was from the Vale but behaved like a Northman. He was presumably around Ser Criston’s age, but had not even half of his spirit. It wouldn’t have bothered you so much if you couldn’t feel his stare burning into the back of your head. You could give him some credit; at least he’s taking his job of supervising you seriously.

But no, the primary reason for your irritation and lack of focus was your father. He had demanded you to attend this tourney to celebrate Rhaenyra’s labors, not allowing you to be by her side. You and your sister were close, very close, and quite similar as well. To not be by her side when she was in pain had you tense. You didn’t want to be here, not even to see Criston compete.

Criston Cole was facing a member of House Bolton, a rather fierce young man who didn’t scare easy. Most Northerners were like that, but Criston should know best as he just beat another one last round. The tournament today was celebrating Princess Rhaenyra beginning her labors, so competitors have traveled from far and wide. The event had been planned for a month, so it was good news that the Princess was finally giving birth.

“Jessil,” you called to your guard with a smirk, “You should watch closely this round, my shield is competing.”

The man nodded curtly without a word, causing you to roll your eyes. His under-reactions irked you, but you were starting to blame Criston Cole for that fact. He always reacted wonderfully to anything you did, perhaps you were too used to it.

Speaking of your shield, you could see his anger growing the longer you were with another man. It was the only thing keeping you here at this point; waiting to see if he’ll get violent. Criston was the most amusing man you’d ever met, you just knew something was going to happen. There were only two more rounds until the event ended, and he’d been stiff ever since Ser Jessil bent down closer in order to hear your comments about two hours ago.

The two knights settled into their positions across the courtyard from each other, on opposite sides of the tilt. Then, a horn sounded, triggering their horses into a sprint. With their lances aimed, the men collided, wooden splinters flying but neither of them falling. New lances were readily tossed to them and the process repeated. Criston spared you a glance, noticing that Jessil had gotten a few inches closer.

Again, they charged forward. Only this time, when they clashed, Criston was thrown from his horse at the force of the hit. The Bolton fared a bit better, remaining on his horse, but he was hit in the face by Criston’s lance, causing the front of his helmet to cave in just enough to cut him.

What you saw made you shoot to your feet, your hands gripping the railing in concern. Never in your years of knowing Criston Cole had you ever seen him knocked from his horse in a tournament. He was easily one of the best fighters you knew of, it seemed impossible that this could happen. Had you pushed too far with your teasing? You’d never tried anything during a tournament before, perhaps Ser Jessil’s presence threw him off.

The round didn’t end there. Criston was quick to stand despite his obvious injuries, and his morningstar was swiftly given to him. His helmet had flew from his head when he fell, so his bleeding mouth was for all to see. He was holding his right arm close to his body, making it appear broken or incapable of proper use. Although he was right-handed, he gripped his weapon in his left hand and prepared for a fight. The Bolton Knight was also without a helmet at this point, ditching the damaged armor when he jumped to the ground to grab his sword. His nose was bleeding and looked to be broken from the hit.

“Is his arm broken?” You asked aloud, leaning over the railing a bit in an attempt to see better, “he favors his right.”

Jessil ignored your words, but inched closer so you wouldn’t go over the railing, “Princess, you could fall.”

Criston let the other Knight come to him, not willing to waste any energy. He used his time to look your way, not liking the way your guard was holding your shoulder.

The fight began, but didn’t last long. The Bolton may have made a skilled jouster, but not a fighter. He was no match for the angry Kingsguard, even when he had every advantage. Handicapped from his injuries, Criston swung his Morningstar with his left hand, swiftly hitting his opponent in the head while avoiding any oncoming attacks from the sword. The impact knocked the younger Knight out, but visibly broke his brow bone. Due to the force from the spikes, his face was bleeding badly and the area around his eye was caved in, perfectly mirroring the damage to his helmet.

Half the crowd was silent in shock (including yourself), but the other half was cheering loudly at the violence. You were desensitized to such things at this point in your life, but that didn’t mean you welcomed them. You didn’t like that Criston came so close to losing, or that you have to watch some poor Bolton boy bleed out on the ground for no reason, your shield was too injured to continue to the next round anyways. And due to your being a princess, it would be inappropriate to leave early to check on the Kingsguard member. Because your father wouldn’t allow to be with your sister, you’d made Criston your fixation of the day.

The two of you made eye contact as a few servants rushed over to him, helping him limp off to see a maester. It was soon announced that although neither competitor was continuing to the next round, Criston Cole was technically the winner.

“Well that was certainly a show” You cleared your throat, shaking Ser Jessil’s hand off your shoulder and finally taking your seat once again, “I knew something was going to happen.”

“So you did, Princess.” The Knight nodded curtly, recalling your words earlier, telling him to watch closely.

With Criston gone, your mind shifted back to a pregnant Rhaenyra, who was currently giving birth without your comfort. You stiffen up, nails digging into the railing before exhaling deeply and taking your seat. The two of you return to your proper positions and continued to observe the event for the next few hours, clapping dutifully when an insignificant Lannister won.

You made it back to the Red Keep in record time, it seemed. Even Jessil had trouble keeping up with you on your horse as you rushed home. You’d refused the carriage ride, eager to see your sister.

You were sprinting up the nearly infinite steps to her chambers, Jessil following close and maids jumping out of the way. A couple of people tried to stop your entrance, but you only shoved them aside and pushed your way towards your sister.

“Rhaenyra!” You gasped softly, a grin finding its way to your face when you saw her cradling her new baby in bed. After the death of your mother, childbirth was a sensitive subject for you and your sister, you hated being apart during this time. She dismissed the women in the room, leaving just the two of you and her first child.

“I’ve decided on Jacaerys.” She smiled at you as you crawled into the bed beside her.

She’d discussed baby name ideas with you before, with Laenor as well, who suggested Joffrey. Rhaenyra was adamantly against it, and you remembered the distaste you felt hearing it, knowing the implications that would come along if they decided on that name. You’d always liked Joffrey actually, unhappy with his death, but almost all of court heard the rumors of he and Laenor. You’d suggested Jacaerys, a Velaryon sounding name. Rhaenyra didn’t seem overly interested, so you didn’t expect her to choose it.

“Oh, Jacaerys.” You cooed, stroking his little head, full of dark locks. That wasn’t good, not really. Hopefully he took after Rhaenyra in his other features, or else questions of his parentage could arise. Rhaenys was half Baratheon, so that could be used as an excuse. But then the baby boy opened his eyes, revealing big brown orbs that mirrored Harwin Strong’s. You liked Harwin quite a bit, not minding. But the court would mind. You and Rhaenyra would just have to protect him.

“Have you slept yet?” You asked your sister, who hasn’t stopped grinning since you first saw her.

“Not yet, dear sister, I cannot stop looking at his sweet face.”

“Has… his father seen him yet?” You both knew who you meant.

“No. But he will soon enough, when I’m well enough to leave the room.” She gave you a knowing smile, which you returned.

Upon leaving Rhaenyra to rest, you were able to successfully escape Ser Jessil’s supervision with the help of Ser Harwin Strong, and went straight to Criston Cole’s chambers. You found out through your favorite handmaiden that he’d been released from the infirmary, and you took the first opportunity that presented itself to you. You didn’t knock before slipping into his room, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind.

Stepping in, your eyes were drawn to his place on the bed immediately. He was lying down above the blankets, with his arm wrapped and splinted in a sling resting above his bare midsection. His ribs were bruised, but it was apparently nothing bad enough that would need wrapping. Both legs were extended out, with his left pant leg pulled up to the knee to reveal his bruised ankle. He didn’t notice you enter, his eyes were shut and he was likely half-asleep. His face was fine, handsome as always, besides a cut on his nose-bridge that was beginning to darken into a bruise.

“Look at you, my poor sweet thing.” You cooed quietly at him suddenly, waking him from his relaxed state. His eyes shot open, head snapping over to the door.

“My princess.” He gasped. His chambers were much smaller and less impressive than yours, he didn’t want you in such an environment.

“Are you well?” You asked, closing the door as quietly as possible, “The maester says you’ve broken bones.”

“I’m well, I swear it to you. It’s a small break in the arm, everything should heal rather quickly.” He tried to reassure you as you approached, struggling his way into a sitting position, his back against the head board.

You hummed at his clumsy movements, stopping to stand at his bedside. Cute. Criston wasn’t an inherently violent man, at least not with you, so it was easy to forget how strong and dangerous he truly was. It was unnerving to see him injured; weak.

“How quickly would you say?” You asked.

“The maester says a month.” He answered quietly, not willing to admit the extent of his injuries. His primary goal was to get back to you.

You knew the Maester had actually said two months.

“Hm. Who will protect me for a whole month in your absence?” You held back a smirk.

You watched as Criston’s body language immediately changed. Clenching and unclenching his jaw, his leg twitched in frustration.

“I am still fully capable.”

Has he always been this attractive or does jealousy just look good on him?

“My father thinks you should take time to heal.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, “I don’t care what he thinks, you saw what I did to my opponent despite my injuries.”

“You ‘don’t care what he thinks’? He is King.” You said in a mock-scolding tone, lifting your knee to rest in against the bed, close to his lap.

“Yours is the only word to mean anything to me. I listen to no King.” Still seated, he leans forward to get closer.

“Though you listen to me? Only me?” You ask with a smile, batting your lashes at him and leaning in. He doesn’t move to kiss you first, he rarely does. He lets you do as you please, feeling the puffs of air from your giggle on his lips.

“Yes. Only you.” He whispers, his eyes begging you to just kiss him already. But nothing is ever that simple with you, and he knows it well.

You grin at him, leaning in until your lips are just grazing his own, before laughing and pulling away entirely. His face followed yours until you were out of reach, leaving him to huff and fall back against the head board once again. He let out a quiet groan, closing his eyes and tossing his head back so he could catch his breath.

“You’re so easy, Ser Criston.” You snickered. His lips quirked up at your joyous tone, but he resisted the urge to open his eyes. After a few moments of stumbling around the room in amusement, you bit your lip to keep quiet.

Criston went stiff when you fell silent, excited fingers beginning to twitch as the urge to touch you increased. But he was a seasoned warrior at this point in life, and could hear every movement you made. He heard you tiptoe back over to the bed before pausing. The mattress dipped as you climbed onto the bed and landed in his lap, straddling his thighs and avoiding his bruised ribs. It was only when you were on top of him that his eyelids fluttered open to watch you. You gave him a satisfied look. He was happy to let you believe you caught him off-guard.

“Criston?”

“Yes, my Heart?”

“There’s something I have to tell you…” You placed your hands gently on his chest and leaned in, your mouth next to his ear, “and you will not like it.”

“You think me incapable of handling such news?” He asked, a bit breathless.

You smiled, “Of course not. You’re my protector, my strong and most loyal servant. You can handle anything I give you, yes?”

He nodded, unable to speak properly with your lips on his ear.

“My father says that Ser Jessil will be your stand-in as my protector.”

Criston’s good hand immediately moved to your waist, gripping it tightly, “You don’t need anyone else to protect you. Only me.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” You kissed his jaw gently, “but you should heal and rest.”

“I will kill him. Do not doubt me.”

“He would just be replaced.”

“I don’t care, I should kill the next as well.”

“You go against my word?” You pulled back, sitting up fully. He hesitated in his response, so you continued, “Ser Jessil will be your temporary replacement, my King father has said this and I have agreed.”

It was a lie, technically; you didn’t exactly agree to anything. But you weren’t about to let Criston believe he had the power here. He’d started to get a bit too bold.

Your faces were close together now, the two of you holding heavy eye contact. Criston said nothing, though his body language revealed his true feelings easily. He didn’t like that you were taking your father’s side over his own.

“I love you.” He blurted out, brows furrowed in emotion.

Your hands moved up to hold his face, “I know that. I just want you well. You must rest and heal so you can be at your best. Don’t you understand?”

Criston nodded slowly, a satisfied shiver running through him at the thought of you caring so much. His health is truly that important to you?

“Good.” You say with a grin, pecking the corner of his lips and reaching up to pat his messy hair down. His long locks grew wild already, but the style worsened from hours of wearing a helmet.

Giving into you, per usual, the Knight sighed and wrapped his good arm fully around your waist, pulling you close so he could tuck his face into your neck. You cooed at him, returning his embrace and giggling in between your praises.

“I know that this upsets you quite a bit,” You began, gasping in surprise when you felt a warm tongue trail over your throat, “but I don’t mind making you feel better.”

“Feel better you say?” He questioned absentmindedly, more focused on the taste of your skin.

You hummed in confirmation, “I can take care of you in places you may need help with. You know….. here?”

Eyes closed, you placed a delicate touch to the bulge in his pants, smiling when you felt him stiffen beneath you.

Criston Cole was always half-hard around you, your presence alone able to rile him up. He often found himself having to control his thoughts when around other people, not wanting them to notice his… state. As much as he wanted to touch you all over— taste you and love you and worship you— he held a higher respect for you than himself. You were not just a Lady, you were a Princess. He would not dishonor you in such a way, at least not until the two of you were married.

“Princess—” he grunted, mouth dropping open in pleasure briefly before pursing his lips. He pulled his upper body away from you slightly, giving you a bit more space to do what you wanted.

“Oh, it’s fine, Ser Criston. I want to.” You reassured, shrugging because you knew he would end up letting you anyways, “You just look so good bruised up like this, all jealous over some loser, nobody Knight.”

You whispered the last sentence harshly, and Criston loved it. He loved when you degraded other men in comparison to him. He was who you wanted, not that loser, nobody Knight. It didn’t matter that he was low-born or sick in the head, you wanted him anyway.

“You prefer me?” He asked looking up at you, “to him? Tell me...”

“I prefer you to him, Ser Criston Cole. I prefer you to all other men.”

Pulling him by his hair, your lips captured his. Whimpering into your mouth, he now does nothing to stop you from reaching your goal. You smile into the kiss at his surrender.

“… but perhaps you’re right.” You pull away from his lips, but stay close enough to tease, “it would be so dishonorable and you’re injured as well. Hm.”

Criston, his mind in shambles, doesn’t say a word, just sucks his teeth and releases a shaky breath. He doesn’t like to argue with you, he won’t. He’s overwhelmed, you’re so close.

“Can’t think.” He muttered so quietly you almost missed it.

A breathy laugh escaped you before you could stop it, “No? And why is that, Ser? Do I possess you so?”

“Possess? Princess, you are torturing me with your affections. I cannot think of anything else, I cannot focus, I cannot stop shaking.” His voice cracked at the last word and he wasn’t lying, his body trembled.

“Do I dominate your dreams as well?”

“Yes.”

You hum, curious. You knew of his fantasies; his plans to run away, marry, and have many children with you. But you never question the details, allowing them to stay fuzzy so he wouldn’t get too ahead with his scheming. Dreams, however, you could create your own world. “Won’t you share them with me?”

“We ah-” he pauses to take a deep breath, likely attempting to control himself, “You call me by name a lot.”

You tilt your head, a bit confused.

“Not Ser, not dog, not thing— just Criston. The sound of my name from your lips is like music to me. It makes me— I never want you to say another’s name ever again. And uh- a daughter. We have a daughter. She looks like you- so much.”

You begin to shift at his words. A daughter? No Westerosi man wishes for a daughter, at least not before a son, “Daughter you say? Why?”

“She will be you, reborn, carrying my blood. I dream of a baby girl that smiles like you. I will call her my little princess as you are my Princess. A child that is ours.”

“A daughter.” You repeated once more. It was… nice to hear a man express desire for a daughter rather than a son. You and Rhaenyra had suffered due to that mindset, spending most of your lives watching your father desperately try for a son, even at the cost of your mother’s life. He no longer felt that way, but it was too late, the damage had been done. He now had Aegon and Aemond, who he didn’t even pay much attention to. Your mother’s life felt wasted.

“Princess—?”

“A sweet thing it is.” You cut him off, “your dreams are endearing. But I must go now, Jessil has no doubt noticed my absence.”

Criston tensed, “Ab—sence” He croaked, jealousy building.

“Mmhm.” I nodded, “I’ve avoided him thus far, impressively. He may report this to my father if I’m gone any longer.”

Just a few minutes more, his mind screams. But he’s good for you, so he only nods. His jaw is clenched and there’s a noticeable twitch in his expression. His fingertips dig into your sides.

“I don’t want to part with you for so long.”

“Perhaps I’ll visit if you behave.”

“He’s clearly a bastard.” Criston spoke quietly, but plainly.

You’d snuck him into your chambers after a long day of cooing over Rhaenyra’s baby boy, Jacaerys. It’d been a couple weeks since his birth and she finally brought him to court for all to see.

“It is treason to suggest such a thing, Ser Cole.” You bitterly defended your sister as you brushed your fair, before rolling your eyes, “And even if it were true, what does it matter who the boy’s father is? He is Rhaenyra’s true son and her heir. The boy is a Targaryen.”

At the risk of upsetting you further, he held his tongue. Being rather low born, Criston grew up having to prove himself through his ability rather than his status. But when he was young, at the end of the day, he was still a rank above bastard children. He had that, at least. He knew that it wasn’t exactly fair, you can’t control who your parents are, but it was a mindset he was raised with and couldn’t shake so easily.

“What if my father marries me off to some Lord I do not love? Are you saying you wouldn’t fuck little bastard babies into me? Babes that look just like you?” You ask him, standing up from your vanity to approach his spot on your bed, feigning innocence.

Face twitching in annoyance, Criston grabbed your wrist and roughly pulled you to his level. With your faces were inches apart, he reached up and gripped your chin. The action made you bite your lip to hide a grin.

“I will be fucking little trueborn babies into you. I’ll make you my wife before giving you children.” He took slight offense to your words. How could you suggest that? You should know he would not let you be married off.

“Oh, of course, My White Knight. You plan to steal me away.”

“Hardly stealing.” He muttered, lovesick eyes staring into yours.

You don’t voice your disagreements, you only laugh. You did not belong to Criston Cole, you belong only to yourself. His words make you think that this game had gone a little too far; he’s getting too confident in his possessiveness. His hesitancy was one of his initial charms for you, and it’s leaving him. Perhaps it’s best to stop entertaining his ideas of a future with you, no matter how cute and pleasant you believe them to be.

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t like it, even just a little?” You tilted your head, his hand still holding your chin softly.

“No.” That’s a lie, maybe just a small amount. Everyone knowing you belong to him, having his kids, despite your status. But the negatives massively outweigh the positives. Not only would it put so much dishonor on you, but Criston isn’t good at controlling his jealousy. He wouldn’t be able to handle you being married to another or his children not having his name.

You smiled knowingly, teasing, “I don’t believe you.”

He released his grasp on your chin, letting you fall closer into him, “I could never be fond of an idea where you are not mine.”

“Well I would be, only secretly.” You pointed out.

“I want you to be mine openly, in every way. By name.”

You knew that wasn’t possible, not even across the sea. But you didn’t want to burst the bubble he’d been constructing for the last year. You let it go. A short silence takes over, not an uncomfortable one, but not the kind you particularly liked. The two of you had extremely different thinking processes, and it was something only amplified when you discussed your ideas for the future. Luckily, your partner was delusional enough that he didn’t notice your discontent with running away.

“Criston?” You ask, letting yourself fall to lie flat beside him. He lets go of your wrist and his eyes follow your moments, as usual. He lies back on the bed as well.

“Yes, my Princess?”

“Why do you desire me the way you do?”

He looked slightly surprised at the question, like he’d never expected you would ask. The truth is, he hadn’t. It wasn’t like you to care why. You were quick to accept things for what they were.

“You’re special to me.” He eventually whispered, “I was made to love you.”

“Made?”

“The gods constructed me only for the purpose of worshipping you. You have bewitched me with no effort. I do not know whether to kiss the ground you walk on or fall to my knees and beg for your continued attention.”

You stare into his big, dark eyes silently. He’s loyal, like a dog. And he’s hopeless like one too. “You’re not exactly a poet, but I suppose that will do.”

He grins, and you can practically feel his heart racing, “Not a poet, no.”

You tear your eyes away from him to glare at the ceiling. “Do not call my nephew a bastard again.”

He tensed at your words, entirely disliking that he’d upset you, and nodded immediately. He was embarrassed, “Yes, my love, I’m sorry.”

You sighed and looked back at him, sitting up once more. “I think you’ll find him charming. Rhaenyra says he reminds her of me already.”

“Well I’m sure to be charmed in that case, aren’t I?”

“Oh, yes, since you’re more than quite charmed by me.”

“Charmed,” He smiled, pupils expanding as he began to fantasize, “I hope to be charmed by our own children one day.”

“Our own?” You entertained, “How many? Including this daughter of ours of course.”

“Five perhaps. More if you’d like.” He took a piece of your hair between his fingers to play with.

“Is that what our lives would look like if you had it your way?”

“If I had it my way,” His eyes shifted back to your own, darkening, “by now you’d be chasing around our first two children as your stomach swelled with our third. You’d be called Lady Cole.”

“Ah, yes. Lady Cole with her many Cole babes.”

Criston had to take a deep breath at that, practically vibrating at the mere thought of you carrying his children and living as his wife.

You giggle at his visible reaction, leaning down to claim his lips. He sighed into the kiss, hesitant hands reaching for your hair. He tugs, trying to urge you closer, onto his lap, “My princess, please.”

“He begs, ‘Please please please’. You are the wantingest man I’ve ever met.” You grin into the kiss, allowing him to take you into his lap.

“I will never have shame in begging you. My life belongs to you, I am yours.” His words are beginning to slur slightly, “It’s only natural for me to be greedy when you are the one who claims my heart.”

“Always trying to impress me with your words,” You playfully roll your eyes, “you’re nearly healed, you know. Ready to return to my side?” It was a lie, he had good a bit left of healing to do.

“I never should have left.” He squirmed, trying not to show his anger. He never left, not willingly. He was removed.

“Of course, of course.” You tugged on the dark hair at the back of his neck, “The man who’s been with me is utterly serious. Neither I nor Rhaenyra like him.”

Criston listened to your complain about your temporary shield with a sense of pride and giddiness. He was relieved you disliked his replacement. But the mention of your sister disliking him as well did nothing for him, as the princess Rhaenyra didn’t like most men surrounding you, Criston himself included. She never vocalized it much, but he noticed when she tensed and sneered when he got too close to you. He wondered if she knew about your relationship.

“I’m more your taste, Princess?”

A grin found its way to your face and you nodded, “That’s right, I can do whatever I please to you and you only bask in my attention.”

He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, argue with that. While he had his own boundaries of sorts, they were completely disregarded in your presence and he didn’t even mind it.

To prove your point, you began to kiss his jaw, sweet and gentle kisses. Criston hummed, closing his eyes and tilting his head back only slightly. You nipped at the delicate skin, comfortable with leaving just a few marks because he was still out of action; not many people would be seeing him anyways.

“G-gods-” he choked out.

“The gods cannot save you, I’m afraid.” You giggle.

“I beg them not to.”

You giggle at his dazed voice and expression, blowing cool air on his neck and enjoying his shiver. His hands keep twitching. Just to tease, you kept your face tucked into him, kitten licking at the skin until you felt something wet hit your cheek. Pulling away slightly, you quickly identified the source of the warm liquid; blood was dripping from Criston’s nose, falling over his lips down to his chin.

“S-sorry, your grace. I’m overwhelmed is all.” He muttered, hand immediately going up to face to stop the dripping. But you only pull his hand away with a smirk.

“You know,” you begin, thumbing some of the blood and smearing it over his lips, “in the way of Old Valyria, we share blood when we marry.”

“Please, please,” he croaks, big dark eyes boring desperately into your own. They’re shiny and lack any coherent thoughts, “Don’t say such things to me now— can’t control myself.”

“We use dragon glass to cut one another’s lip,” you take your bloodied thumb and swipe red onto your bottom lip, “then we kiss to show we are of the same blood now.”

His leg begins to bounce and he has to look away from your face. His nose continues to drip blood, but neither of you move to stop it this time.

“You like that idea~ i can tell because you’re shaking.” You giggle into his ear.

“M’not shaking-” he replies, but even his voice trembles.

“Well you’re bleeding, is that not a sign?” You tilt your head, “perhaps you’re unwell, should I stop?”

Before he can beg you not to stop, his sharp ears catch the sound of clicking armor in the hall. He tenses, almost forgetting he was in the Princess’ chambers; he doesn’t know how when yours was easily three-times the size of his own. There was no need to panic and hide, people were not permitted to just walk in.

Three hard knocks sounded throughout the room, causing Criston to freeze. Your expression didn’t change, as you’d heard the footsteps.

“Who is it? Do not enter please.” You answered, your eyes not leaving your knight’s. As nervous as he was, Criston maintained eye contact and didn’t move a muscle. With a small grin, your hand traveled back up to his chin, which was now smeared with blood. As your fingers traced his features, you leaned in close to his ear to place a few gentle kisses there.

“Princess, it’s Ser Jessil. Your sister, the Princess Rhaenyra, has sent for you. She is… perhaps you should open the door to let me explain. It concerns your safety.”

Your reactions vary; Criston’s posture is still stiff and he’s growing annoyed at the knight’s presence. It’s almost offensive how this pathetic creature is trying to protect you when that’s his job. But you’re worried, though you won’t show it. Rhaenyra? Is something wrong? But something about it didn’t make sense; if your safety was threatened, then why did Rhaenyra know first and why did Jessil bother knocking at all?

“I’d prefer you explain from where you are.”

You could hear his sigh through the door, an impressive feat, “She is suspicious that a knight of the king is sneaking into your chambers.”

Probably because it was true, you thought, glancing at a stiff and unhappy Criston.

“Let me ready myself and I will speak with her at once.” As you began to shift off of your shield, but he only pouted and desperately hung on. He had the mind to keep quiet, but his heart wouldn’t allow you to leave him.

“… Yes, Princess.”

You turned to him sternly, “Let go, Criston. Don’t be foolish, just hide for now and be gone when we leave.” You quietly scolded and his grip loosened.

He clenches his jaw, the most common hint to his annoyance, and said nothing. He allowed you to pull him up by the hand and drag him over to your wardrobe, shutting him in with a last apologetic kiss.

“Be good.” You uttered, and his gaze softened for a moment before the door shut in his face.

He could hear you shuffle around, dressing quickly to see your sister. He sucked his teeth angry. Did he deserve mistreatment? To an extent, yes, he could admit that. But this wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t you just— stay? Tell him to kill that bothersome knight and be done with him entirely. His fists clenched. He’d kill him— and soon. Right now even. Then he’d take you away and give you a nice little home with sweet little silver-haired babies. Criston was growing sick of waiting, it was eating him up inside. You affected him so severely, it was showing itself physically. He brought a hand up to the crimson liquid that had finally stopped leaking from his nose.

You were gone now— he knew this because he could feel when you were near. But someone was in your chambers, someone closer to his size. He could hear the metal clanking of heavy armor. The person was looking for something, an intruder most likely. But Criston was not the intruder here. The idea of someone who wasn’t him being in your space made him burn with anger. That was fine, he decided, he’d handle it. With balled up fists, he stepped out from the wardrobe.

“Has Ser Jessil been good to you, little sister?”

You shrugged at Rhaenyra, your chin resting in your hand as you leaned on the table. It wasn’t polite, but you were comfortable in her presence, “He’s fine, I suppose.”

“But you prefer that dog of yours.” Your sister teased. You could tell she didn’t like that— didn’t like Criston. You understood.

“He’s good, listens well.”

“Not for long— I can see it well. He’s a sick thing, sister.”

“I can handle him, he does as I ask.”

“He’s greedy, an oath breaker.”

You hummed in agreement, “He has pretty eyes.”

Rhaenyra scoffed with a grin at your reply, “He will try to steal you away. Not just that, but he’s also obvious. Painfully so. If I know, someone else does too. He needs to be put out. Be rid of him.”

“I… understand that he’s got troublesome feelings. But he’s become something of a pet to me now.” You pouted and your sister sighed, not fond of upsetting you.

“When I ascend the throne, he will be gone. I worry he’ll be your downfall.” She wasn’t being dramatic, she’d disliked the man for years and saw every bit of concerning behavior he displayed. She saw clearly his desperation to leave with you. When it comes time for you to marry, he’ll go mad.

You knew whatever you had with Criston wasn’t permanent, but to hear your elder sister give away her intentions of getting rid of him really struck you. “He’s brainless, Rhaenyra. Just a dog, truly. He can hardly read. He’s only a threat physically, and he would never hurt me.”

Rhaenyra sighed, wrinkling her nose in distaste for the man. She used to be like you, still was sometimes, but she would protect you from her mistakes. She would not allow any whispers at court of you being a whore and your children being bastards, not like her. Since the birth of Jacaerys, she’d grown just a bit more serious, and much more protective.

“You needn’t be literate to kill a man.” She replied after a brief silence.

You held back a huff. The truth was that Criston could read fine these days, though not nearly at the level you could. You’d only said that to give the illusion of harmlessness. Unfortunately, Rhaenyra would never buy it; she had seen the knights he’d bloodied during tournaments.

“I’ll be harder on him then, perhaps add a bit of distance. But, sister, he is important. As a member of the Kingsguard, his support and loyalty will aid your claim. One more soldier on our side— a good one.”

“I will not sacrifice you for my cause.”

“I’ve told you, he will not harm me—”

“It’s more complex than that—!”

It felt like you were 13 and 14 again, bickering over something that was caused by your sisters protectiveness.

No, you will not be coming with me. You will sleep in your bed and I will wake you myself come morning!

If that stable boy looks at you that way again, I will have father or Uncle Daemon take his eyes— probably Daemon.

No, sister. You are mad if you think I’m letting you anywhere near a wild dragon—!

You sometimes think that Criston and Rhaenyra hate one another because they are a bit similar.

“Nyra,” you groaned, head in hands, “I will fix it, you’re right, he has become a bit… extreme lately. But you must admit he’d be beneficial to our cause.”

Although Rhaenyra was legally the heir to the throne, there were already whispers of putting Alicent’s son, Aegon, on the throne in her place. Criston wasn’t very powerful politically, but he was a brilliant fighter and his words as a Kingsguard held just a bit of sway.

She furrowed her brows, “You’re too fond of him.”

You shrugged, standing up, “Perhaps. But I’m no fool; you come first. I will never flee with him.”

“And when he realizes that?”

You didn’t have an answer. You passed Harwin Strong on your way out, and bit your tongue to stop myself from calling out the hypocrisy.

What was the difference between her and Harwin vs you and Criston?

Well for starters, Harwin didn’t murder any man who entered Rhaenyra’s vicinity. Criston on the other hand…

By the time you returned to your chambers, the entire stone floor was red, the liquid seeping into your intricate carpet you’d had since you were a child. There was no body, suggesting that Criston had already gotten rid of it or the victim managed to escape. (But that was unlikely, Criston was a beast in a fight, and his temper was unmatched.)

“Princess.” Criston croaked from behind you, in the open doorway. He’d just arrived, and it took only one glance at him to know what he’d done. Blood covered his hands, arms, and chest. It was splattered from his face all the way down to his knees. He was in his civilian clothes still, rather than any armor due to being put on leave. His eyes were shiny, some sense of desperation in them, and he was fiddling with his red hands. Nervous. Why were you back so early? The sling for his arm was gone, though he surely still needed it.

“Is—” You cleared your throat. “Is he alive?”

But judging by the brain matter on the ground, you knew the answer was—

“No.” Direct and honest. He took a few steps forward, shutting the door behind him. You weren’t scared of him necessarily— you knew well enough at this point that he’d never hurt you. But he didn’t look quite human at the moment, so you took a step back.

Your simple shuffle backwards was enough to send him into a panic.

He dropped to his knees, blood soaking into his breeches as he inched closer, “My love— he was threat! He would’ve found me in here—” He babbled on about protecting you, begging for you not to be afraid. You let him talk, focused on the blood.

“Clean this up.” You finally muttered, patting him quickly on the head to avoid soaking yourself with the crimson liquid.

As much as a part of you wanted to coo at him ‘good dog’, you couldn’t. This was messy— emotional and obvious. Risky. He was a bad dog, a stupid one even. He wasn’t like Harwin— manageable. He was something else entirely. You liked him how he was, violently loyal and protective, but you couldn’t have it.

He quickly agreed to clean it and began to calm down, which led him to notice your own unease. He flinched when he saw how much blood seeped into your shoes and skirt, pulling you into his arms and placing you on your favorite stool.

He was cooing at you, “Sweet Princess, don’t worry about this, yes? I’ll rid you completely of this man, I swear it. I allowed his blood to soil your clothes, I’m sorry.”

Criston kissed at your collar bones down your arms to your palms.

“Criston,” his eyes shot up to meet yours. Big brown heart eyes. “No more of this, not in this castle.”

His hands tightened slightly around your wrists, “But you like it.” He muttered.

“It isn’t about that—!” You held your tongue, deciding to take a smarter approach, “My sweet Criston, the people in the Keep will soon notice a pattern, I cannot let that happen. My sister needs nothing in her way of that crown.”

He nearly scoffed, “Is it always about your sister and her crown? I have protected you again! From-from these perverts who wish to—”

“You’re the pervert-!”

“You love me! You love it! How you affect me— how you can physically see every thought that goes through my head about you! You love how perverted I am for only you! I see you— I love every part of you, even the part that gets off on a Kingsguard soiling his cloak for you!” Criston was shaking, “I am sick, and you cannot get enough! Just as I will never tire of you— I need you!”

There was silence, besides his heavy breathing. You didn’t expect such self-awareness, and you didn’t like it. You liked him better dumb, but it appeared he never was fully clueless. His brown eyes were wide and a shade darker than usual.

“Sit.” You commanded and he did, “Just clean this up.”

[taglist] @3abydolll @pearlstiare @caramelcandescence @eilishchaos @watercolorskyy

The Rhaenyra/Criston beef is gonna go crazy in the prequel

im hoping you guys noticed, but this chapter was meant to emphasize the lack of control the reader truly has on criston. like yeah, he worships you and is willing to do almost anything you say, but his urges control him more than anything else ever will. this is going to be a common theme in the future. i also wanted this chapter to show more daily life and readers relationship with rhaenyra compared to part i.

#dark! hotd #yandere hotd #hotd x reader #got x reader #yandere got #yandere criston cole #yandere asoiaf #criston cole #criston cole x reader #obsessive criston cole #dark criston cole #ser criston #targaryen reader

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aphroditelovesu · 6 months

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Yandere House Stark Headcanons (Platonic)

"Winter is Coming." — House Stark.

❝ 🐺 — lady l: and another headcanon was made! Yay, I hope it turned out good and that you like it! Forgive me any mistakes. 💙

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of murder, unhealthy platonic relationships, messy writing.

❝🐺pairing: yandere platonic!house stark x gender neutral!reader.

The Starks are one of the most, if not the most, loving families in Westeros. They are fiercely loyal and protect each other with wolf-like intensity and strength. They care for each other and love each other devotedly.

When you were brought into the care of this family, these feelings did not change, but only increased further and became unhealthy. That didn't matter, however, to any of them. They showed their fury towards anyone who dared to get too close to you or threatened you.

Ned was the one who brought you into the wings of his family. You were the child of an innkeeper who ended up being murdered by some thieves, while still a small child you were found by the Lord of Winterfell and he, compassionate about your situation, brought you to his home.

Catelyn didn't know how to react, at first, when she met you. She feared that you were another bastard child of her husband and that he had brought you to be raised just like Jon. But as soon as her husband told her the true story, Catelyn felt a weight lifted from her shoulders and she became closer to you.

Robb gave you a warm welcome. As soon as he met you, he picked you up, hugged you tightly and welcomed you to the family. He adored you immediately and didn't hesitate to treat you like a member of his family. Robb is overprotective and takes care of you like an older brother takes care of a younger one.

Sansa adored you, simple as that. Although a little skeptical of you, like her mother, any worries or reservations she had were gone the moment she laid eyes on you. You looked so small and helpless, her instincts were screaming at her to take care of you. Sansa found herself overwhelmed by this feeling.

Arya is probably the closest to you. She is bold and courageous, she adores you and loves spending time with you, constantly picking fights with others for your attention. Arya is somewhat possessive and gets irritated when attention is stolen from her. She absolutely loves you and loves taking you with her to get away from boring chores.

Bran is the calmest one in his family, he doesn't demand so much of your attention nor is he possessive, he takes everything he can, but his only demand is that you read to him. In return, he'll love reading to you or, if you are interested, teaching you how to climb. He is very calm and the least dangerous.

Rickon is the youngest and, in some ways, the most spoiled. He constantly wants your attention and is always fighting with Arya about it. He likes to follow you around Winterfell and snuggle into your arms. He is quite jealous and will sulk when someone steals you from him.

Jon didn't know what to think of you at first. On one hand he was jealous of seeing you receiving all the love he so desired, on the other hand he was happy to have you around, since he started to like you a lot as he got to know you better. Any animosity he had for you would be forgotten once his obsession consumed him. Jon is very overprotective and will fight anyone to protect you.

Benjen doesn't spend much time by your side because of the Wall, but the few times he visited Winterfell, he adored you and telling you stories or holding you in his arms were his favorite things to do with you.

Ned didn't know things would come to this level. He knew his family would care and love you, but he didn't know how much. He even tried to be rational, but it was no use, not when he found himself obsessed with you. Once you called him "dad", there was nothing more to be done. You were a Stark until your death.

Catelyn acts like a caring and protective mother, which she is. She loves to brush your hair, reading to you or just being by your side. She fulfills your every whim and can never scold you for something. In her eyes, you were her baby and you could do nothing wrong.

Robb and Jon are always fighting over you, although their fights are never serious, they still happen and it's always up to you how to resolve them. A hug and a kiss on the cheek usually does the trick. Robb wants to be your favorite brother and Jon wants your unconditional love.

Sansa and Arya fight more than their brothers, they both want your attention all the time and this always leads to more fights. It's usually Ned who solves them. Sansa wants you to brush her hair while she tells you something and Arya wants to play or train with you.

Bran and Rickon don't fight that much, but sometimes a disagreement can happen when you pay more attention to one. It usually resolves when you threaten them that if they don't stop fighting, they won't have you. They are quick to apologize and hug you.

The Starks are wolves and we all know how protective wolves are of their litter, of their family. They will be ready to eliminate any threat to you and they will do so with a smile. Nothing is more important than you to them. Once the Lannisters arrive, the Starks will be ready to show their claws.

After all, leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe.

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meraxesmoon · 8 months

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Thinking about Aegon being absolutely whipped for his wife...

warnings: yandere content, aegon ig, idk he's horrible but not here lol, sexual content, babytrapping, I have baby fever again, ppl who write him as a top blow my mind bc what part of this man screams dom to you lmao 🤣

(Name), his precious wife, is the absolute center of Aegon's world. To be fair, there isn't much else going on with him, but it's the thought that counts.

She's the oldest child and only daughter of his half-sister, so many would imagine that their marriage is somewhat toxic, which is true, just not in the way most people think. Aegon is so dependent on the affection from his wife that he hardly has time for anything else. She's his savior in many ways, and Aegon's terrified of losing her.

Just thinking about how Rhaenyra would want to annul their marriage because she doesn't believe that Aegon is good enough for her baby girl! Aegon hears this from his brother and cries the entire night.

He would be absolutely lost without his dear wife and knows that his life would mean nothing without her.

Then he comes up with an ingenious plan.

He'll pump her full of his babies so the marriage can't be annulled!

Aegon uses that pathetic puppy look every night to convince his lovely wife to fuck him. He's on his back each evening as she rides him as though he were her dragon, and Aegon absolutely loves it.

He's such a whore for her, too. Aegon always puts on a performance for his wife, and he's incredibly insatiable.

And once she starts to swell in her midsection, Aegon can't help but feel relieved. The next time his sister returns to Kings Landing, she finds her daughter heavily pregnant.

Aegon couldn't be more smug.

idk guys, he looks like he'd call me mommy and let me peg him 🤧

#ignore my end note #cw: yandere blog #cw: yandere content #yandere aegon targaryen #yandere aegon ii targaryen #yandere team green #yandere smut #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #yandere got #yandere game of thrones #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere content #yandere #kay writes #rhxegal

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gulnarsultan · 1 year

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Your yandere husband Maegor, is with you at every birth. When every baby is born, he takes them in his arms before the midwife has a chance to clean them.

Visenya: My son. Let the midwives do their work.

Maegor: 😑😒

Maegor reluctantly returns the baby to the Midwife.

Maegor: Hurry.

#yandere house of the dragon #house of targaryen #yandere targaryen #yandere hotd #yandere game of thrones #yandere got #yandere maegor the curel x reader #yandere maegor targaryen #yandere maegor targaryen x reader #maegor x reader #maegor targaryen x reader #yandere maegor i targaryen x reader #yandere maegor i targaryen #maegor targaryen #maegor the cruel #yandere visenya i targaryen x reader #yandere visenya targaryen

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westernbaby · 2 years

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𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

[woman reader] [poc friendly] [platonic/mentions of marriage]

A/n: The amount of chaos in this show gives me enough fuel to live.

You were brought into the family's sights by befriending Rhaenyra. She honestly didn't mind your family's upbringing, that didn't take away how much of an amazing friend you were to her. A sturdy shoulder to cry on, braiding her hair when bored, gifting her handmade trinkets (that, despite their name, held unlimited value to her) and just being an overwhelmingly calming presence for the princess.

The gift giving isn't one sided either! She'll sneak you some silk blouses, ruby earrings and books with intriguing plots. Only the best for her dearest friend. Only the magnificent.

Eventually, you'll have to meet the family considering the fact that you're great friends with the Rhaenyra Targaryen. They arrange a dinner for introductions to be made, and in that night, you've got them by their throats.

Aemma thinks you're beyond the sweetest girl that has ever graced King's Landing. Viserys shares her feelings and this reflects by the way they treat you as if their blood runs through you. Daemon isn't as welcoming as them at first, considering, his personality is hostile to everyone that he isn't used to.

But, surely, his brain starts to spark when he finally sees what Rhaenyra saw in you. He suddenly feels the urge to protect you from each and every small thing in the world, seeking you out during events so he can take his place next to you and basically acting as your guard dog.

The family pays no mind whenever someone regrettably mentions that fact that you're not of Targaryen blood. Well, they do pay mind to that statement. The poor person gets their tongue taken out.

No matter if you're not related to them in any way by blood, you're treated as such.

They never let you get swooned by someone unworthy of your love or even a simple glance of yours their way. Daemon and Rhaenyra are the ones that practically gatekeep your heart. Checking the status of those that try and marry you, take you away from them, and send them off. Even if you were about to be swooned by the person, Daemon and Rhaenyra are there to pull you back to the ground by your knees.

They were simply not worthy of you.

Of course, Aemma and Viserys are more than glad to see you marry someone that makes your heart practically burst with love. But on the condition that you stay living in the castle with your family.

They wouldn't be able to bear seeing you leaving them. Even though they practically took you from your biological family, but, don't mention it unless you want the war drums to start playing.

The Targaryens make sure you are treated the way you deserve. Before them, you lived in a village with dangerous people walking the alleys with no repercussions. Leaving you in the hands of danger each and every night. They'd never let you go through that again.

You share a bedroom with your dearest and closest friend, Rhaenyra. Leaving the both of you with Criston Cole as your sworn protector right outside the room. You're protected with them, no one is allowed to set their dirty paws onto you.

When chaos erupts during the wedding of Ser Laenor and Rhaenyra, people have their eyes set on keeping you and the soon to be queen safe. Ser Harwin punches his way through the crowd before finding the two of you sat together, throwing the both of you over his shoulders.

*Bonus* During the dinner of The Lord of the Tides, when Viserys is giving his speech and says "Not only as your king but as your Father, Husband, grandsire", he turns to look at you affectionately when he says father. [I probably messed up the dialogue I'm so sorry]

Eventually, the Velaryons and High towers join the melting pot.

#house of the dragon #yandere hotd #yandere rhaenyra #rhaenyra headcanons #rhaenyra targaryen x y/n #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #Hbo max #house of the dragon headcanons #house of the dragon x reader #yandere got #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere family #yandere Daemon

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darkestspring · 1 year

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to have and to hold

a/n: my first request! im honored. this was requested by @gulnarsultan for aegon I, maegor, viserys I, baelon, aerys II, rickard stark, eddard stark as yandere spouses. thank you for all your support and love. (i did leave some out that i just wasn’t feeling like i could write)

Aegon I “The Conquerer” Targaryen

He is the definition of devoted husband. Despite you being his third wife, he adores you just the same. he spends most of his free time with you. Even if you express your distaste or concern, he showers you with endless affection and gifts. Hair pins, books, jewels. Anything your heart desires, he’ll acquire it for you.

Of course, there’s also the fact that you’re not allowed anywhere without him, Visenya, or Rhaenys. Or five guards. It’s better to pretend you aren’t aware that they’re trying to isolate you with only them to keep you company. It’s better to smile and kiss whichever spouse is accompanying you for the day and thank them.

“My heart.” He coo at you, kisses being pressed all over your face and neck. He’s as soft as a targaryen can be when he’s with you. You’re his wife, one of his loves. “I’ll burn all of westeros down if you ask it of me.” he’ll tell you late at night as you hold you in his arms. “I’ll do anything, you need only ask it.” He’ll insist and he will. He’ll give you anything you want. But don’t ask to be free. He’s your husband. You belong with him.

Maegor I “The Cruel” Targaryen

despite the fact that he already had multiple wives, he grew an instant infatuation with you and refused to accept any other outcome than to marry you. after all, what choice did they have? who would refuse a dragon?

he most likely wouldn’t wait for approval or care what anyone else thinks. he’ll marry you in the tradition of valyria with his mother as witness. what you want doesn’t necessarily matter to him. you will be his wife. you will carry his children. he’ll make it so even if he has to spend all day in bed with you.

he’s softer with you than his other wives that’s for sure. he’ll cup his face with his hands and whsiper “My wife.” before kissing you so deeply you feel like you’re drowning. You’ll always be his wife, even after his death you’ll still be his.

Viserys I “The Peaceful” Targaryen

It’s your kindness that makes him keep seeking you out. Your kindness and care towards him makes him want to be around you constantly. He’ll gift you books and scrolls on subjects you both like. He’ll gift you flowers and little trinkets. He’ll sometimes create scenarios in which you seek him out because he wishes to be around you constantly.

He’s always holding your hand, always looking at you with this lovestruck and soft look on his face. He’s not one to isolate you. You’re his wife already. His beloved queen. But in the instance that this person talks badly about you or threatens you, he’ll get rid of them with no hesitation.

When you become pregnant, he’s overjoyed. Proof of the love you both share. “My love.” He’ll let out, his hand gripping onto yours gently as you both smile. “What wonderful news. The happiest news, my darling.” Even if you die before he does, if he is forced to take another wife, he’ll always love you. He’ll consider you his only wife. His only love. The children you have together, his only children. He’ll love you even in death.

Baelon “The Brave” Targaryen

Even before he was your husband and even after, he has a tendency to not leave your side. if someone wants to find baelon, they need only to find you first. whether you’re his first or second wife, he’ll be just as devoted. He basically worships the ground you walk on and doesn’t take kindly to other talking badly about you.

He loves to lay his head in your lap and have you run his hand through his hair, it comforts him greatly. Baelon is mischievous and regarded as brave but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his own mean streak. he’s capable of great cruelty to those who are a threat to you and your safety. You mean a great deal to him so he won’t allow anyone to ruin the life you both have together or your safety.

“Other half of my soul.” He’ll whisper softly as he kisses your forehead. He can’t help but want to give you the entire world. He’ll acquire things that remind him of you to gift you. the moment you’re with child, he’ll devote all of his free time to you. he’s overcome with joy. A baby! a piece of both of you. He’ll place his hand on your growing stomach and be overcome with fondness. He’ll kiss you with all the gentleness in the world. A gentleness reserved only for you.

Aerys II “The Mad King” Targaryen

In the beginning he’s very charismatic, it’s easy to forget that he refuses to let others see you. people who hold conversations with you, that get to hear your voice and see your smile, die at his hand. they don’t deserve you, he’ll tell you. you’re his wife. everything you have, everything you are, is solely his.

If you’re still alive by time he starts to go crazy, you’re the only person he’ll allow to touch him. he’ll cling to you the entire time and refuse to let go. You’re his beloved wife, the only person he’ll trust.

“please love me, don’t leave me. I beg of you.” He’ll whisper into your shoulder as he clings to you. It’s hard to remember that you’re his captive wife. That anyone who even looks at you, he’ll order dead. You don’t say an ything in return as you hold him gently.

Rickard Stark

Rickard is the definition of dutiful husband. He loves you so dearly and wants to have a peaceful life with you. He’ll have warm coats made for you so that you’ll never go cold in Winterfell. Anything you wish for, he’ll acquire. You are his wife.

Rickard’s last thought is of you, whether you are dead or alive, he thinks of you. He’s already failed you, failed his children. He just hopes justice and honor will come. He wishes to see you once more. He’ll thinks about all of the moments you have shared.

“My wolf.” Is his favorite petname, he would cup your flushed cheeks his hands and press his forehead against yours. “I’ll do anything for you. My wife. Wait for me.” It’s easy to forget that rickard’s jealousy of other men leads him to sentence them to death for smiling at you.

Eddard Stark

Eddard is a dedicated husband, he brings the definition of fuck around and find out to life. He outright won’t kill people for simply holding a conversation with his wife but if he believes they’re a threat to his wife, to her safety or to their marriage, he won’t hesitate to do what he has to, to keep his wife safe, his family safe, the north safe. You’re his wife, the only one he wants.

Eddard will show you around the north and tell you about the area, the danger, the places he likes to see. He wants to be happy there, with him. With all the children you’ll eventually have. Once jon comes into both your and his life, you comfort him, you agree to care for him. You feel slightly bad but you vow to care for him as you do your other children.

It’s devastating when he’s executed, your children try their hardest to shield you from the truth. From the schemes and manipulations of others. You try your hardest to think of what he would want in times like these. Of how he would deal with those who threaten the safety of his family. You’ll do what you must. The north always remembers.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere game of thrones #aegon targaryen x reader #maegor targaryen x reader #viserys targaryen x reader #baelon targaryen x reader #aerys ii targaryen x reader #rickard stark x reader #eddard stark x reader #yandere viserys targaryen #yandere aegon i targaryen #yandere maegor targaryen #yandere baelon targaryen #yandere aerys ii targaryen #yandere hotd #yandere got

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reareaotaku · 7 days

Text

Yandere! Male! Daenerys Targaryen Headcanons

Haven't done a genderbent character in a hot minute

He was amazed by you. Something was different/off about you and he had to find out what it was

As the only son of Aerys II and Rhaenyra Targaryen, he's the next in line for the throne

Her two older sisters aren't not fans of you. They think you're distraction for Daenerys and will only cause trouble for him

What they don't know is you're probably the best thing that has happened to him. You will be the best thing that happens to him [Though that's not saying much]

Daenerys tries everything to get your hand in marriage. Though the thing is you don't have much of a choice, but he wants you to think you do, because he cares for you so much

Your father is more than thrilled when the subject of marriage is brought up, because this could be good for you. You would be in a position of power. Power you could never have in your own family

So off to marriage you are. As a wedding presents Illyrio Mopatis gifts you both three dragon eggs; One is green, another black, and the last one was gold. He informs you both that the eggs are from the Shadow Lands and that time has turned them to stone

When Daenerys brings the dragons to life, with magic, you are shocked. He tries to comfort you, but you're terrified

"What have you done, Daenerys?"

"Trust me, it's fine-"

You're still cautious about the dragons, no matter how much he tries to convince you

He wants to make you a mother of dragons- As he has become father of dragons- as a way to connect you both in an even more intimate way

He's extremely protective over you. Dozens, if not hundreds, of people have tried to kill him. So, you're in danger all the time and he'd first slit his own throat before letting someone come close to you

He practically keeps you locked away just so that you're safe. He's scared of losing you

He just needs you to understand that it's all to protect you

#daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targeryan #male daenerys targaryen #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #yandere daenerys targaryen x reader #yandere daenerys targaryen #yandere got #yandere game of thrones #male daenerys x reader #male daenerys #male daenerys targaryen x reader

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 7 months

Text

MTL to have a big family

Characters: Robb Stark, Viserys Targaryen III, Ramsay Bolton.

Robb

Robb comes from a big family, growing up with a strong bond between him and his siblings. Having a large yet united family is what made him the man he is today.

Also, as a king it’s extremely beneficial to have multiple heirs, in order to secure the bloodline and the throne.

But Robb would genuinely enjoy fatherhood, independently whether it’s a boy or a girl, he’d love them with equal love.

Teaching them about life and their duties, but also disciplining them regarding the values they must have, about the Stark’s honor and history of their house, about the good and the evil in this world.

He’d find happiness in sharing the knowledge and wisdom as his own father once did with him.

I see Robb surrounded by a bunch of kids, with one of the youngest perched on his knee while his wife is round with another babe, all of them dining together and the room filled with laughter and love.

A heart-warming vision for Robb.

Ramsay

Ramsay isn’t really the type of man that yearns to be a father, is he?

He isn’t interested in irritating children running around the castle, crying and screaming. Ramsay despises all those annoying creatures, although he does want them with you.

A small family will do just fine, in his opinion.

Besides, pregnancy does prevent him from being his true self around you and as a result, he can’t throw you around or cut your skin and mark it with his name. A pity, indeed.

However, he does want a few sons, to prevent what happened with his father. He wants a strong claim to strengthen his title.

After he gets what he wants, there will be no need for you carry more children and that’s when the real fun begins for him.

Viserys

Viserys, just like the rest, would obviously need a few children but his dislike for children is more intense. It icks him to interact with children, they are gross beasts with something drooling from their mouth.

So he only wants a few children, the necessary amount to keep the scarce Targaryen blood afloat.

But it’s a bit different when it comes to his children because they share the Dragon’s blood, a part of the Targaryen House, his heirs. Viserys would enjoy to recount to them the adventures of his life as he pursued for the Iron Throne, restoring it to its rightful owner.

He’d want to see his kids fawning over his achievements, that would definitely flatter his ego.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones mtl #ramsay bolton x reader #robb stark x reader #viserys iii targaryen x reader #yandere got #yandere robb stark #yandere ramsay bolton #yandere viserys iii targaryen

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anxiousnerdwritings · 11 months

Note

Could you do cersei writing to joanna!reader while tyrion has sent her to dorne with myrcella

My Dearest Daughter,

Oh, how I miss you so, my sweet. Both you and Myrcella. There isn’t a moment that passes me by where I am not overcome with either of your absences. Truth be told, I had stood in the exact spot where I was forced to watch you be stolen away from me saw you off, watching as you sailed away from the only home you had ever known, as you sailed further and further away from me, for hours afterwards. I couldn’t be moved, I didn’t want to be. I was praying and praying that the ship would turn back around and bring you back to me, both of you, that you would be safely in my embrace once more but of course the gods could not careless for my pleas. I had even resigned myself to the comfort of your room for days on end. It was the only thing at the time that made me feel close to you again. Even after I had returned to my own chambers after my longing I still found myself in front of your door especially, (Name). It didn’t help that I could swear I still heard your voice and the sound of your laughter every so often. I even thought I caught a glimpse of you a few times out the corner of my eye, but alas I know it truly couldn’t have been you. That it could not be either of my beloved girls. I was so overcome without you that just wanted you with me again. I still want you with me, the only place you belong.

I truly, truly hope the Martells are treating the two of you well, treating you as you so deserve to be treated, and that Dorne has welcomed you with open arms. I do worry though that the longer you are away the more you will forget about us, about your real home and the family you had to leave behind. I will be honest and vulnerable with you my eldest child, but I do fear that our family will be replaced in your heart. That you will replace me. I know it sounds silly but it has always been a deep seeded fear of mine and I cannot help but worry that it will finally come true. Promise me you will never forget your mother. Promise me that you will always hold me close to your heart as I hold you to mine. It would give me some peace of mind, even if just a little.

If it weren’t for your meddlesome and trifling uncle Tyrion, we wouldn’t have been thrown into this situation. I wouldn’t have had to say goodbye to my sweet daughters and neither of you would have had to be given away to strangers. I know I shouldn’t but I truly wonder whether I will ever see you again with my own eyes. It hasn’t even been that long since you were torn away from me left but it feels like an eternity already. After you left it felt like everything else left with you. The warmth, the love, the joy; it all went with you and Myrcella the moment you got on that ship and sailed off. And the only one to blame for it is that disgusting imp of a brother of mine your conniving and spiteful uncle.

As much as I know you favor him (I have not a clue how he deceived you so but not to worry, I know it’s not your fault, he’s merely manipulating you, my poor child), your uncle Tyrion truly is far from how he portrays himself to you. This predicament alone should be proof enough of how far he’s willing to go to hurt me, to hurt us. He’s driven a wedge between us, my sweet, a wedge of oceans keeping us apart and trying to hurt me as much as possible, doing so by targeting both of you. He knows how much you mean to me, how much I hold you close to my heart and for what? His spite? His hatefulness? He doesn’t have the right to go after me through my own child, through my children!

Oh dear, my sweet darling. My sincerest apologies for ranting on as much as I have. I had no intention of this letter being anything other than my missing of you and your sister, among other things. I never meant to bring such drama to you, please do not think much of it. I wouldn’t want you needlessly worrying about us all the way from Dorne. Your uncle and I will be just fine, nothing but a bit of ‘sibling quarreling’ that’s all. Everything will be alright, I promise. Put your focus and attention into yourself and Mercy, I want my girls happy and healthy when we’re reunited again.

I love you so very much, my sweet (Name). You and Myrcella. So very, very much. We will have to plan a much needed visit very soon. I know your brothers would love to see you both again, as would your grandfather. You have been missed so dearly since you left, it would be wonderful for everyone and yourselves to be home again, even if for a short while. We can speak more on the matter later.

Once more, I love and miss you, my sweet child. I hope to have you with me again very soon.

With Love,

Mother

P.s. The gifts you and your sister have sent have been lovely and I couldn’t adore them more. They are the only things keeping me at bay for the moment. I have a few of my own I will be sending your way, I hope you both find them as fondly as I have. A little piece of home for the two of you.

#yandere cersei lannister #yandere cersei lannister imagine #yandere love letters #yandere letters #yandere game of thrones #yandere game of thrones imagine #yandere #yandere writings #yandere imagines #game of thrones imagine #cersei lannister imagine #yandere x reader #yandere cersei lannister x reader #x reader #female yandere #female yandere x reader #yandere got #yandere got imagine #got imagine

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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

Note

could you maybe do some yandere alpha daenerys x brat omega reader please with some NSFW please as i see you havent writen for her yet.

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖘 : 𝖘𝖍𝖊/𝖍𝖊𝖗 (𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶 𝔦𝔫 𝔞𝔡𝔳𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔦𝔡𝔫'𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔲𝔡𝔢 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔬 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔥𝔢/𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔦 𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔢𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔪𝔶)

( 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 : 𝔡𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫, 𝔫𝔣𝔰𝔴, 𝔶𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱, 𝔰𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔭𝔥𝔶𝔰𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢, 𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔢 ) 𝖕.𝖘 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞 𝔡𝔞𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔰 𝔞𝔰k 𝔦 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 against the back of your thigh and glared at the man opposite her. You had been in her care since she was married to the Khal and she did not intend to give you up. You sighed loudly beside her and fidgeted irritably. She grit her teeth and squeezed your thigh. "With all respect," She began, voice clear and commanding. "I already have a betrothed." The man scoffed and Tyrion nudged her. "You will have to marry someday," He hisses. "And to pass your children a throne you need to have one. This is a family that can offer you ships and legions worth of weaponry." Daenerys glared down at him. "And just as I told him, I am to marry someone far superior." Tyrion tried not to let his aggression get the better of him. "Who?" He demanded. She pushed you toward him and raised her brows. His own furrowed. "A wo-?" "An omega." She spat to which his face raised in surprise and horror intermingled. "But one has not been seen–" "Until now as was prophesied. I am the prince that was promised I assure you that she belongs to me." Her tone had turned dark and shot tendrils of madness from her lips. He backed down and gave a grave glance to his fellow lords. Jon shared a nervous glance with his sisters before looking back down. Daenerys' alpha stature held strong over their heads as she reminded them. Her face turned to look at you, narrowing her eyes at your distasteful expression. Your lips pouted and curled while you slouched improperly in your dutiful seat beside her though she stood.

"Cersei has–" Daenerys' gaze cut back onto him. "I am the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and I will not have myself sold for alliances so easily made. I have garnered my soldiers with respect and strength. I will not sacrifice myself to such slander." Without any other backlash she dismissed them and turned her harsh eyes onto her beloved. "What were you thinking?" She asked calmly, annoyance seeping through only lightly. You were always so good for her, why were you acting out? She ran her fingers over your arm as she lowered into a seat and tugged you onto her lap despite the resistance. You huffed. Daenerys' eyes flashed to look at you carefully. She wrapped a tight enclosed fist around your hair, triggering a low whine. "Answer me." She demanded, rocking your head gently back and forth. "What," Her breath fanned over you. "were you thinking about?" "You." You finally answered in shaky breaths, a moan dropping from your lips when she leant closer. She began to smirk in pride. "What about me?" She mocked, voice raising to a teasingly high pitch. Her fingers dipped under your dress, dragging another moan from you. "Always my perfect girl, huh? What happened to my good omega, still made for me?" Her index rolled slow circles over your clit–too slow. She halted abruptly when your voice was starting to sound helpless. "Answer your Queen." She commanded harshly, delivering a resounding slap to your cunt. An excited whimper came from you as you closed your eyes. "Was thinking about you taking me like you told me," You're cut off by your own whines as she begins to roll your clit between her fingers. "Good girl...go on." She utters in quiet praise. "Keep telling me what'll happen but never do." Your groan is emitted as she stops once more and raises the same hand to slap against your face. "Look at me." She demands, regal presence permeating. You shake your head only for her to slap you again, careful not to hit too hard. When you obey, she clasps your jaw and stares into your eyes. "You want to be my whore do you? My silly little whore. I am here offering marriage, wealth, titles and all your stupid little brat brain can comprehend is the fucking I'm going to give you. You just want to carry my heirs don't you?" She scoffs meanly and ignores your cry for attention. Her grip on your hair strengthens. She bobs your head back and forth through the air.

"Please." You moan. Her fingers dance along your lower stomach. "Only obedient girls get rewarded. The longer this war goes on, the longer you wait so be good and stop pushing me." To emphasise her point she delivers a blow to your hip and pushes you abruptly to kneel before her. She moans once your face is pressed snug against her heat. "Tongue." Daenerys ruts across your face, holding in the gasp when your nose makes contact with her clit. Your tongue is desperate as it flicks into her cunt. She throbs against you Daenerys refuses to relinquish her hold entangled in your hair even when yelp at a pull too hard, she only berates you. "Don't even know what you want do you?" She mocks, pushing your face even closer. Her hand reluctantly lets go as she wraps her thighs around your head and pushes against you. "Acting like a whore rather than my wife." She tuts, a low growl of pleasure escaping narrowly. Your tongue roams her and you're suddenly brought back to the evening before, how her hand played and teased you under the table until you were whining and begging her for more but as always, she didn't take kindly to insolence. The loud slaps that struck your behind as she drove your face into the pillows. Vibrations shot through Daenerys' clit as a moan escaped from you unwillingly at the memory. She pulls you from her once she's found satisfied and snickers at your dilated wanton gaze. She wipes a gentle thumb against your wet lips.

"Have you learned your lesson, wife?" She says it with a strong domineer. Your Queen holds your chin in her hand and stares through you as though anticipating your next words. A sense of desire rolls through you in a never-ending loop. The memory of the night before rears its magnificent head. It urges your next words.

"Make me, your grace." The mocking tilts a smirk to her mouth.

#yandere game of thrones #yandere daenerys #alpha daenerys #omega reader #alpha daenerys x omega reader #yandere daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen alpha smut #alpha daenerys smut #alpha daenerys targaryen smut #alpha daenerys targaryen x omega reader #alpha daenerys targaryen x reader smut #yandere got

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yns-world · 2 years

Text

Yandere GoT Headcanons

a/n: This is just a work of fiction and meant for entertainment purposes only. I do not condone this type of behavior in real life.

In this imagine, your obsessive lovers are: Jon Snow, Robb Stark, Petyr Baelish, and Sandor Clegane

Gender neutral, race neutral, and size neutral reader

Warnings: this is GoT we’re talking about, so your normal GoT warnings

Jon Snow:

The Raven

The most peaceful of all stalkers (initially)

His obsession started out as pining that grew into a one-sided romance-- a romance that you weren’t even aware of because he couldn’t muster the courage to tell you

Weeks upon weeks were spent daydreaming about you, fueling his madness

He was always naturally protective, so you didn’t think much of it when he was around you more often

You also didn’t notice the deep scowl he always wore or the death glares towards anyone that came too close or was a little too friendly

Jon would never dream of harming anyone in your name, he knew how it would kill you if he did, so he resorts to intimidation tactics to keep people away

When he can’t be around you, Jon has a personal raven sent to watch over you at all time

He told you that this raven was a gift from him, something to look at and remember that he is always with you

You are never truly alone.

The gift was touching, but sometimes you’d catch the raven watching you too intently through your window

There would be some nights when you’d wake up from a horrendous nightmare of Jon leaning over your bed, his hands wrapped around your throat as he intends to snap your esophagus-- only to look out your window and catch the beady eyes of the raven staring at you with a heaviness that reminds you of the feeling of Jon’s hands at your throat.

The next time you see Jon, you would confide these dreams to him and he’d pull you close and rub your back soothingly, telling you that these are only dreams and that he would never do that to you

Depending on how your friendship goes, there may come a day when he’ll come out of his stalker phase, but only if you guys happen to start dating

If you never pursue him, or worse, you date and then break up, he’d become depressed and blame you for his grief; his oath to never harm you or your social circle would be off the table.

Why can’t you just see that he’s the one for you?

Robb Stark:

The Dutiful Soldier

A stubborn, steadfast man-- just like his father.

He grew up hearing tales of how men were supposed to chase after their lovers, taking them like conquests; Robb’s parents were like those couples in those fairytales.

He was raised to believe that he must chase; and chase he does.

At first, his stern attitude and title intimidated you but Robb used his status and power to get close to you

You’d find him watching you across the camp as his advisors stood around him like a flock of birds

He’d personally send you to run his errands for him-- whether that be in Winterfell or in neighboring villages

Whenever you’d come visit him (only because the King demanded it), there would be the charming and kind Robb that only a select few know

Robb knew very well how effective his personality was, so it was no trouble getting you to agree to his spontaneous marriage, to the protest of his mother

At first, you thought Catelyn despised this marriage out of loyalty to the Frey, but it was really because she knew just what kind of a monster her son was.

After the honeymoon, you would finally meet the man that you had married.

He locked you inside the castle walls, just like how Ned kept Catelyn inside Winterfell at all times.

But unlike his father, Robb took it three steps further-- having you guarded with at least one soldier at all times.

You gave him the benefit of the doubt and thought that it would get better over time, but his grip around you turned into a chokehold.

By the time of your first anniversary, Robb would barely let you out of your room-- the magnificent chamber that turned into your prison cell.

He always says that he does this out of love and for your own safety, but it’s bullshit and you know it.

Nobody can save you but death, it’s just a matter of who will pass first; you or him?

Petyr Baelish:

The Puppet Master

You had fallen for his trap long before you ever met him.

Everything about your life was orchestrated, from the time you met him, to all the meetings after that

He’s been keeping tabs on your for years now

His love for you began when he had caught a glimpse of you, a brief glance where your eyes locked his for a moment, and there wasn’t that trace of hatred or judgment in them like everyone else has

In that moment, you made him feel like a normal, random stranger

And ever since then, he knew he had to have you.

You wouldn’t even be aware of his manipulation game until many years into your marriage, with kids running around. (Unlikely you’d ever find out.)

By then, it’d be too late.

The key difference between Petyr and everyone else is the illusion of choice that he gives you.

He lets you believe that you can leave at any time; he lets you believe that you are in control, but you were never once in control. You never had an ounce of power against him.

From that day you briefly locked eyes, you’d been under his thumb. He was the one that orchestrated your job assignment to King’s Landing. Petyr was the one that memorized every detail about you so that he could become the perfect match for you.

And he didn’t become the perfect match by mirroring your likes and dislikes, no, he became the perfect man by learning what aspects of his personality would work with you, and what didn’t.

This man adopted a brand new personality just for you, and you can call him a fake, conniving bastard, but he used this personality for so long that it’s become ingrained in him.

He used to switch between personalities depending on whether he was around you or others, but he eventually grew tired of it and stuck with the personality for you.

This personality has been stuck with him for so many years that he doesn’t remember his old personality.

Alongside his old personality, he doesn’t remember his true, original memories.

That’s because he also had to create anecdotes that he felt would resonate with you. Tricky, yes, but it worked in the long run.

He recited these stories thousands of times-- to himself, to his colleagues, to strangers at the marketplace-- just to make sure he would never miss a beat. And he never did.

In a way, you could say that he became reborn as the man for you. Alternatively, you could call him the scariest man the Gods have ever seen.

He doesn’t regret what he’s done. His actions are only proof of his devotion to you, and he’d gladly do it all over again to keep you for eternity.

I must warn you, the only reason you would even be aware that Petyr was manipulating you would be because Petyr allowed that thought into your head. He’s always ten steps ahead, there’s a reason why you’ve been allowed to come to this conclusion. (It’s all a part of his scheme to bring you closer to him.)

Regardless of what he did to have you, you had genuinely fallen in love with him and couldn’t imagine leaving him.

You should’ve known better than to trust a Baelish.

Sandor Clegane:

The Loyal Dog

As if his aptitude for violence wasn’t bad enough, his obsession didn’t make it any better.

He kills anyone that looks in your general direction, he knows he shouldn’t, but whatever self restraint he had before is out the window when it involves you

You tried to appease him just to save the lives of your friends and family, but you learned quickly that nothing would end the blood trail that followed you unless you severed the ties yourself.

You spent most of your days holed up in your shared home (a home he forced on you), and your sour mood didn’t dampen Sandor’s spirits at all.

Inferiority complex to the MAX, he steals items of yours-- undergarments, trinkets, jewellry, anything you wouldn’t notice-- and has a hidden shrine of it.

In private, he worships you like a god, your word is gospel to him

You want him to overthrow King’s Landing and put you on the Iron Throne? Of course, anything for you.

You want him dead and gone? Just tell him when and where.

The one thing he’ll never do is let you leave him.

You were the first person that ever treated him like a human being, he would never let you go.

You could hurl your worst insults or try to physically harm him, but he wouldn’t budge

No matter what you say or do, he knows (falsely believes) that you love him deep down.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, please consider reblogging because that helps my account :)

i had so much fun writing this and would love to make more yandere got content because there's not enough <///3

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venus-maneater · 1 year

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a loyal dog’s reward. | yan! criston cole

soft yandere / obsessed au

fem! targaryen princess reader

synopsis. the knight’s death wasn’t convenient, but at least now you knew the lengths Ser Criston was willing to go for you.

part ii.

note; this is an au where rhaenyra/criston never happened ! he is reader’s sworn shield. reader is written with targaryen features and is kind of a sick and twisted brat (we stan). ALL CONTENT ON MY BLOG IS FICTIONAL.

WARNING(s): possessive/obsessive tendencies, violence, minor character death, unhealthy relationship dynamics, manipulation, age gap (reader is 19, criston is around 27), references to size difference, reader knows abt his tendencies and takes advantage of them, nsfw content but not full smut, allusions/references to sex, subby criston cole, dom-ish reader, praise-kink??, breeding kink??, mocking, usage of “dog”

“I know how you think of me.”

Do you really? Do you know how much he thinks of you, how he craves you? How he wants nothing more than to steal you away so no one else can ever see you again except him? He wants you to be his, only his. That’s all he wants.

“You can’t get me out of your head, can you, Ser Criston?”

He knows you emphasized his title on purpose; he was a member of the Kingsguard lusting after the Princess, and yet he couldn’t feel any guilt from behind the overwhelming desire he has for you. It’s not just lust, it’s so much more than lust. He wants you; mind, body, and soul. He wants you to look at him the way he looks at you. He wants to grow old with you and fill you up with babies. Babies that will have his dark hair and your violet eyes, or maybe even the opposite.

“You would do anything for me?”

Yes, gods yes he would. Ask for anything and its yours. Please, please, please ask something of him.

You’d noticed his peculiar behavior months ago, but you suppose it hadn’t gone far enough for you to say anything about it until now. You noticed how his eyes never left your figure if you were in the room, how he stiffened when you stood even remotely near another man, how he followed you around like a lost puppy. It was endearing at first, but tonight he had killed someone for you. Not only that, but he did it violently and in public. In all fairness, the hedge Knight was creepy and invasive, you didn’t like him. But Criston was a member of the Kingsguard, he couldn’t go around killing people just because he wanted to.

There was a tourney to celebrate your older sister Rhaenyra’s first pregnancy. She was married to Laenor around 6 months ago, so most of the family found it pleasant that she was already pregnant. Though, you knew it wasn’t Ser Laenor who was the father (or at least you assumed it wasn’t). You were rather close with your sister and her husband; you knew well what they got up to and what they didn’t. All was well for you, you found Ser Harwin to be a lovely friend.

Although Criston Cole was your sworn shield, you insisted he enter the tourney for the entertainment. Many had entered from all over Westeros, and your shield had always succeeded in physical competitions in the past.

“I’d just like to see you win.” You told him, batting your eyes. He was quick to obey your request at that.

Ser Criston received your favor right before his first round, and won the tournament just as you knew he would. A hedge knight from the Reach came in second place to your shield. He seemed nice enough and was a rather good sport about losing, but frankly he was annoying. He wouldn’t stop following Criston around, which eventually lead to him introducing himself to you as Tion Gracefeld. His presence didn’t bother you at first, but you could clearly tell how much Criston hated it.

After the event ended, there was celebration all throughout King’s Landing, so there was a bit of chaos on the short journey back to the Red Keep. Tion took advantage of this, trying to get closer to you. Of course, Criston was there to push him back each time, telling him “please give the princess some space” through gritted teeth.

His jealousy was a bit cute to you, so you let Ser Tion continue with his behavior. It wasn’t such a bother, but as you approached the castle, his words became less playful and more… sexual. Foul, even.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened for certain, the violence was too quick, but you knew that he grabbed your arm before Ser Criston murdered him for it. The Dornish Kingsguard grabbed Tion, pulling him from you and throwing him to the ground. You were sure the beating was bad, considering it was enough for him to die from his injuries, but you refused to look.

Criston was eventually pulled off the man after a couple minutes, and now here he was. Sitting on the edge of your bed in front of you, hands and armor splattered in blood.

“Look at me.” You told him. You had to give him some credit, he listens to you so well, “Why did you do it? What made you angry enough to kill him?”

You could hear his breath hitch in his throat as you stepped closer, only to stop directly in front of him.

He took in a quick breath before answering, looking up at you with frustrated eyes, “He was talking to you like- like you were some… whore. There was no respect. He was trying— to touch you. I’m your sworn protector, Princess, I was only doing my job.”

He didn’t want you to know about his sick obsession with you, trying to hide it using his position as an excuse for his behavior. Unfortunately for him, it was incredibly obvious. You could tell how angry he still was from the interaction; his hands shaking, chest heaving, and jaw clenched.

“You know,” You started, looking down into Criston’s eyes and leaning closer to his face, “I didn’t really like the guy, myself. But you’ve gotten me into quite the situation. You should be charged for your crimes, I’m afraid.”

Even seated, he was so close to your height that you didn’t have to lean down much to meet at eye-level.

“I’m sorry, my Princess” was all that left him, drunk on the lack of space between you.

“That’s all you have to say?” You whispered, your breath hitting his lips. His pupils were blown impossibly wide, making you smile. As disturbing as this whole thing was, he was almost too attractive for you to care. Almost.

“I don’t want to be taken from you.” He whispered. He didn’t care that he killed someone, he wasn’t sorry, he just didn’t want to be forced to leave you. Tion deserved his wrath; he got too close to you.

You smiled slightly, standing back up to your full height. Using your knee, you pushed the man’s legs apart so you could stand between them. Your hands moved from your sides to his chest, “You won’t. I’ll fix it for you, I truly don’t mind. My father will believe me when I tell him Ser Tion was harassing me, and that you just stepped in to defend my honor.”

Criston gulped, taking in a deep breath to surround himself in your scent. He didn’t say a word.

Your hands slowly creeped up to his shoulders, then into his hair, “Do you ever think about kissing me, Ser Criston?”

His eyelids dropped slightly, the euphoria of your hands running through his locks reaching him.

“As your Princess, you’re sworn to tell me the truth.”

“Yes.” He closed his eyes, “Please, Princess. I am soiled with blood, I don’t want it touching you.”

“No? Then perhaps you should’ve exercised more self-control.” You quipped. Deciding to make things more difficult, you climbed into his lap, your knees on either side of his thighs. There was a lot less blood on his legs than on his chest or arms, but you could still feel a bit of it seeping into the gentle fabric of your silk dress. Good thing you were wearing red.

His eyes squeezed shut even tighter. Self-control you had said. Was this a test? Did you want him to sit still? Then he would. His bloodied hands were balled up in fists beside him.

“You defend me fiercely,” You said. “kind of like a dog, don’t you think.”

It wasn’t a real question, he knew you were just mocking him for his behavior. You knew about him. You know how sick he is for you.

“My fierce dog,” You grinned, “protecting me from any man that speaks his filthy words to me.”

You were perfect, so perfect. His goddess.

“Do you want a reward for your behavior? For protecting me?” You asked. Criston was amusing to you. It was boring at court, having so many people try to flatter themselves into gaining your favor, men trying to marry you for power. But Criston Cole was different; he was genuinely dedicated to you. As a member of the Kingsguard, he had nothing to gain from being with you.

“Reward?” He rasped, his eyes fluttering open, curious. You had never look so pretty as you did in this moment; smiling at him whilst sat atop his lap.

“Yes, a reward. I can give you a kiss, if you’d accept?”

“A kiss?” He questioned, shocked at your proposal.

You giggle at him, moving close enough that your noses are touching, “Is that a ‘no’? Do you not want a kiss from your princess?”

He does. He really does. But how could he dare dishonor you by accepting? A Princess of the realm should not be kissing her guard. Your reputation would be ruined if anyone were to find out.

“Can’t.” He eventually sputtered, his forehead resting against yours.

“And why not? Do you not fantasize about it? What other fantasies do you have?”

His eyes were squeezed shut, but he could hear the smirk in your voice. “I— yes, but Princess….” He cut himself off before he finished, you must save your affections for your future husband.

He held back a snarl; he didn’t want you to have a future husband, at least not one that wasn’t him. But he was not allowed to be married and even if he were, he was not high-born like you. Your father would never approve.

“Answer me, Cole, tell me what you imagine occurring between us.” You were getting frustrated with him, this was supposed to be easy, “Look back up at me properly.”

He did as you said and more; finally letting his urges control him, he pushed his lips to yours. His hands, the blood now beginning to dry and stick, gripped at your waist tightly. You gasped into his mouth, quick to reciprocate with your hands pulling at his dark locks.

“‘Think about marrying you,” he muttered against your lips, “keeping you safe, an’ you thanking me all pretty. So pretty, you’re perfect.”

Placing your hand flat on his chest, you pull away by just an inch, “Thanking you, huh? Is that what you want?”

“‘Just want you to love me. Want you to be mine, just for me. I could— I can give you anything, just ask. We can leave here— and be together—!”

You giggled, “You’re getting too excited, Ser Criston. I’m a princess, you know.”

“There— there are places, my Love,” he let out a shocked huff as you pushed him onto his back, “in Essos, where titles do not matter.”

“Is that so?” You moved up his body before settling on his stomach, which was still covered in tainted armor. “And what would we do there? Build a farm? Have babies?”

“Yes.” A part of him could tell you were only teasing, but it was overshadowed by the part of him yearning for a life with you.

You slowly bent down, your body flush against his, and whispered into his ear, “You want to put a few babies in me?”

Not thinking, he reached up a hand and held the back of your head to keep you in place, “More than a few. They’ll inherit your beauty, my Love.”

“Mmm,” You grabbed his hand and sat back up, “your eyes and my hair?”

“Or the opposite.”

Laughing, you tilted your head back, still gripping his right hand between yours. Your laugh eventually subsided with a happy sigh, and you looked back at him. You had so much power over the big man laying happily beneath you, it was funny. He was staring at you obediently, waiting for you to say or do something. Slowly, you slid the black glove off his fingers and pulled his hand up to your lips. He watched as you placed soft kiss to each of his bruised knuckles. His hand was so large beside your features.

“I’m quite fond of you. What should I do if my father refuses to see reason and executes you for your crimes?” It wouldn’t happen, you both knew. But he was happy to entertain your questions, just so long as you were talking to him and touching him.

“I would only ask that I’d be buried where you can visit. I do not desire to be far from you, even in death.” His hand gripped yours tightly at that.

As morbid as the conversation was getting, Criston had never felt so good. You were truly seeing him in this moment, and you didn’t even mind his sickness. You weren’t afraid, you liked it, even. You liked that he would so easily kill for you and how he’d die for you without issue just as long as you would keep him in death.

You hummed in satisfaction, “You’re giving me very good answers, are you sure you aren’t trying to trick me?”

“I would never deceive you.” He sat up, suddenly serious. His quick movements shook you physically, but you didn’t seem surprised. In order to hold on and keep from falling as you slid back down to his lap, one of your arms wrapped its way around his neck.

You snickered at his reaction, placing a short kiss to his lips, “‘Was only a jest. I know you would never do such a thing. You would never upset me, would you?”

“No.” He whispered, kissing from your lips, down to your jaw softly, “I love you.”

“How much?” You breathed, your eyes fluttering shut.

“More than anything— anyone.” He kept going, sure to reach every bit of open space he could, “You are the very center of my existence, nothing else matters. You’re everything to me. I want you like this forever.”

“Forever? No matter what I do to you?”

His mouth was now below your ear, gently sucking a mark into your skin, “You can do no wrong, my Love, everything you bring me is a gift.”

There were droplets of red still on his face and neck from the blood splatter, but you didn’t mind. Neither of you seemed to care any longer about the gore; the way your red dress was now soaked in it from touching his armor.

You still hadn’t yet released his right hand, and he never dared to pull away. Humming from the pleasure, you slowly brought his hand to rest on your thigh. He immediately adjusted himself so that his fingertips were digging into the soft skin, afraid to move otherwise. Very slowly, you began to rock your hips against him. You could hear his already intense breathing pick up.

“And if my father decides to marry me off?” You whisper into his neck.

Criston lifts his head, dark obsessive eyes boring into your own, “Then I shall kill whatever Lord he chooses.”

- venus

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