pastel-nature

[pastel-nature]

Her

Aemond x OC

A/N: In this fic I experimented using an OC instead of reader’s pov, I hope you like it.

Creepy. Aemond would like to think that after all the education he received and the amount of books that he read, he would be more eloquent with his words, yet he cannot find a more fitting description for his only niece.

The way her thin body moves in the hall, the creak of her bones that he swore must have heard as she ventures in the library, and her raggedy breaths as they hiked upon the dragon pit.

Her hair as silver and as Targaryen as it could be, gleaming under the morning sun. Yet her face common as they could be, with her ‘strong’ nose emphasized by a pair of muddy brown eyes and gaunt cheeks. She would not be remembered for her beauty.

Visenya Targaryen, the name felt like a mockery of his ancestry. He reduced its usage to bare minimum.

The girl would stand far, far away from the dragons as the rest of them listened to the instructions. She did not listen, never did, the dragon keepers and maesters as well as her septa tried to make her listen, yet Rhaenyra’s only silver haired spawn had no interest in dragons. Nor much else really.

People tried to stick her with Helaena, two young girls with lack of interest for beasts that were supposed to be their heritage. They’d be perfect playmates for each other won’t they? For a time. Until Helaena cried and cried, said that Visenya ate her spiders, all 9 of them. No one trusted the older girl, surely no one in their right mind would eat a spider let alone a whole cage of them nasty critters. And when nothing happened to Visenya, not a single sign of discomfort after the supposed ‘exotic’ meal, they dismissed Helaena’s words as mere ramblings.

It’s true, Aemond knows. Aemond sees.

The way Visenya let those spiders ran through her fingers. The little ones she licked off her fingers, 8 little legs slowly disappearing at the fold of her tongue. One by one. Until the biggest one remains, a hairy thing as big as her palm. Poisonous too he remembers Helaena said. Aemond shut his eyes, yet the unmistakable crunch lingers in his mind.

When he got his first pair of real sword, Ser Criston Cole swore to shape him into the warrior he deserves to be, dutiful, skillful, honorable. A fierce prince, feared through the battlefield.

He’s was happy, knee deep in fantasy of being a famous knight. Until she giggles, then her brothers too.

“What’s so funny? You’re not supposed to be here.” Aemond raises his voice, a tone fitting for a future warrior.

Visenya giggled some more before she leaned to him, words grazed his left ear, “Ser Cripple Cole.”

That was 10 years ago, when he was but a boy, a boy with no dragon of his own, a timid boy with a pair of perfect blue eyes. Now he rode the biggest dragon in the realm, no, in the world. A renown warrior feared for his way with swords. His mother’s confidante, his family’s protector, his mentor’s pride and joy.

He banished the thought of her from his mind, she no longer had power over him. The creep would only be visiting for a week or two, just enough time to show all the nobles what a fraud his sister and her family is, a pack of dirty bastards. The King might be weak of mind, but his grandfather saw to it that victory is all but guaranteed for their side.

And so Aemond strode on to the training ground, no need to trouble himself with welcoming a bunch of bastards. “People won’t even know they are here”, was one of the wiser words from his drunken brother, “they are just too plain like that.”

Yet when a squire ran to the training ground like the devil himself was after him, Aemond knew. From the bane of his heart to the hair of his back, they are here, she is here.

“Ser… Ser Criston! The horse! He…” The boy sputtered, pointing to the stable, even from afar they can hear distant voices of horses neighing in distress, “help!…He…”

Before the boy could finish his sentence, Aemond already took off. The closer he got, the more he can sense her, Visenya. But she didn’t get on horses, no, she never did, horses are afraid of her. All animals are.

When he was but a few feet away he began to hear moans of pain and trashing of a panicked horse. Criston.

And there he was, his brown curly brown hair matted with fresh blood, his eyes closed as moans of agony escaped his lips. A constant crick, crack, snaps, and wet schliks resounded through the barn as his loyal white mount trashed about on top of him.

Aemond stood pale and weak as a parchment as people slowly gathered, crowding and filling the room wih deafening noises. No one could approach the thrashing horse, the war horse acts as if the devil himself stares him down, strikes him with the terror of fear.

Instinctively he looked up. His sole eye met with a pair of dark pools belonging to a raven. The bird stares down at him, head tilted, wings neatly tucked, little feet hopping around the window sill in glee. Her.

A/N: Thank you for reading, all feedbacks are welcome :) Part 2 coming soon

[pastel-nature]

A Hero Afterall

Dabi x Reader

A/N: Happy Holidays! All characters are 18+. I don’t celebrate Christmas religiously so please excuse all the Christmas cliches in this fic.

Dabi sits alone in his room, staring at the wall as the memories flood back to him. He can't help but think about his past, about the family he once had and the people he used to know.

He remembers his childhood, his young and naive self. That big traditional house with his parents and his siblings. His father, Enji Todoroki or better known as Endeavor, was a hero, one of the strongest and most respected in the world, and his father expected nothing less than perfection from him.

But Touya was never perfect. Judging by the look on his father’s eyes whenever he burned himself, he was not even great. And so Touya becomes the black sheep of the family, the one who always seemed to disappoint his father. He was too weak, too sensitive, too emotional. Discarded to the side like a broken toy, a toy that will never be good enough for Endeavor.

But there was one person who always made Touya feel special, who made him feel like he mattered. You, his childhood friend. Cheerful and kind, you always had a smile for him, no matter how down he felt. You were the only one who seemed to understand him, who seemed to see the real Touya Todoroki. A boy of 10 who wants nothing but to please his father, be a hero like him, surpass him.

And yet despite being your constant companion, he was too scared, too embarrassed to ever tell you that he harbors special feelings for you. Touya just watched from afar as you grew up and bloomed, and he tried to hide his feelings as best as he could.

But then, one day, you were gone. 

No, that’s not correct.

He was gone. Touya Todoroki was gone, engulfed in fire, leaving nothing but ashes for you to mourn.

And after a time, you moved on and Touya was left behind, a remnant of childhood memory, a cautionary tale. 

He tried to move along, to forget about you and focus on Dabi, his new life. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he had lost something special, something that he could never get back.

As the Christmas season came in full display, Dabi finds himself thinking about you more and more. He remembers the way you used to love Christmas, the way you would always drag him out to go look at holiday lights and shop for gifts. Unlike his traditional family, you would drag him to bake cookies and sing carols, your face would light up when it comes to presents.

Dabi shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He can't let himself get distracted by the past. He has a mission to focus on, a mission to bring down the hero society and create a new order. He can't let his personal feelings get in the way.

But as he lays down to sleep, your face is the last thing he sees before he drifts off. And for the first time in a long time, Dabi feels a twinge of regret and sadness for the life he left behind.

The next day, Dabi finds himself wandering the streets, drawn by a sudden impulse to see the Christmas decorations. He knows why he's doing this, knows that he should not dwell on the thoughts, yet his feet moved on its own. So he pulled his hoodie lower to cover his face.

As he walks, he finds himself drawn to a small shop that is decked out in Christmas lights and decorations. He pauses in front of the window, staring at the display of ornaments and decorations. A small glass ornament caught his eyes, shaped like a heart and painted with blue flames. It's something he would have never noticed before, something that would have meant nothing to him. But now, it feels like a sign, a reminder of the past he can't escape.

He wanders the streets, lost in thought, until he finds himself standing in front of a small park. It's decorated with holiday lights and a tall Christmas tree, and it's crowded with people enjoying the festivities.

Dabi hesitates, not sure if he should go in. He knows he doesn't belong there, an outcast and a villain. But something draws him towards the tree, something that he can't ignore.

And then, he hears a voice. It's soft and familiar, and it sends shivers down his spine. He turns, and there you are. You are standing there, staring up at the tree with a look of wonder and joy. Happy and carefree, your face lit up with laughter. And you’re not alone. There's a man with you, someone Dabi doesn't recognize. He's tall and handsome, and he has his arm around you, a gentle look in his eyes.

Dabi's heart aches at the sight, at the knowledge that he can never be a part of your life again. He knows he has no right to feel jealous, to feel hurt. He's the one who left, the one who chose this life. He has no right to expect you to wait for a dead man, a childhood friend who would never come back.

As he watches, he noticed a suspicious-looking man slip into the crowd. There's something about him that sets off alarm bells in Dabi's head. He look around and saw several heroes in the distance, none seem to spot him nor the suspicious man. Useless heroes, but he supposed it takes a villain to recognize one. Dabi follows the man, staying a safe distance behind him. Careful not to attract attention, knowing that the slightest mistake could give him away.

The man weaves his way through the crowd, and when he inches too close to you Dabi knows he had to step up. Standing in front of the fellow villain, he zipped down part of his hood, letting the man sees a part of his patched skin, his trademark. 

Dabi can see the recognition and surprise in his eyes, the way he's sizing up the threat in front of him. Then Dabi sees the gun. With his palm heated up Dabi swiftly reached for the piece of metal before the man could react, melting part of its handle. His heated right hand hovers in blatant threat, and left index finger on his lips all but saying "shh".

From the looks of it, this amateur of a villain is but a lowly pawn sent by someone to wreck havoc in the crowds. Thankfully the man had enough senses to not pick a fight with another villain who just melted his only weapon. He tucked his tail, running back into the dark alley.

Dabi stands there, his palm quietly cools down. He knows that he possibly just ruined Re-destro’s or AFO’s plan, but he doesn't care. For a moment he’s Touya Todoroki, a 10-year-old boy who finds out that despite the heartbreak and betrayal, he is your hero afterall.

Yet no one relized what just transpired, people passed him by without a second thought. Including you, talking to your male companion, heads bent close together as you both laughed and talked.

He turns and walks away, leaving his past behind. Cursing himself for a moment of sentimentality. After all, why would he be helpless little Touya when he can be Dabi, the man who will dismantle hero society and expose their corrupt deeds. Catalyst for a new order.

[pastel-nature]

The Barista and the Boy Wonder

A/N: No warnings for this one, just want to write something short and sweet. English is not my first language so please excuse spelling and grammatical mistakes. All characters are 18+.

I had been coming to this coffee shop for months, every day, I would swing by for my usual black coffee, and every day, she would be there behind the counter, her beautiful smile lighting up the room. She always seemed to be in such a positive mood, no matter what challenges she was facing. It was a trait that I found truly endearing, comforting even.

All I need to do is order a black coffee and I always leave with a lingering smile on my face.

I couldn't help but feel a connection to her, and I found myself coming to the coffee shop more and more often, just to get a chance to talk to her, or even just to hear her say my name. Even as I patrolled the streets of Gotham, my mind kept drifting back to her. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something that drew me to her like a magnet.

It wasn't until I saw her feeding the stray cats during her break that every single atom in my body fell into place, screaming that she’s the one. It was a small, quiet moment, yet it spoke volumes about the kind of person she is.

That moment I knew I had to approach her. I couldn't resist the opportunity.

"Hey there," I called out as I approached her. "What are you doing?"

She looked up at me and smiled, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight. "Just feeding these stray cats. They're always around here and I feel bad for them."

I knelt down beside her and helped her distribute the food. "That's really kind of you."

She shrugged, looking down at the cats. "It's just something small I can do to make a difference."

As I looked at her, I felt my heart swell with admiration and affection. She was an amazing person, kind and caring, and I knew that I am falling for her.

Yet there was something else behind her words, her unusual smile as well as her wandering eye.

“Something wrong?” I can’t help but tense at the prospect of problem.

"I'm just worried about one of the cats," she said, a crease forming between her eyebrows. She quickly fished out her phone and showed me a black kitten with white paws. "Mr. Mittens, I haven't seen him in a few days, and he's usually always around. I’ve been looking for him all over this block and some more."

"Don't worry, I'm sure he's just fine. Maybe he found a new food source or something." But my mind is already thinking of a thousand ways to find ‘Mr. Mittens’.

She looked up at me, her eyes full of concern. "I hope you're right. I just can't shake the feeling that something might have happened to him."

“I frequent these streets, why don’t I keep an eye open and inform you if I saw him and if he’s in danger, well, I am sure I can figure something out to save him.” I can indeed.

She smiled up at me, her worry seeming to ease slightly. "Thank you, Damian. I really appreciate it."

The batcave computer had seen hundreds if not thousands of searches, its screen trawling through the endless streets of Gotham. Both it and I are no slouch when it comes to finding a criminal, missing person, or crimes in action. Not so much a kitten.

After a sleepes night, I finally got a lead. It seems our black furry friend slipped inside a bakery delivery van and had not returned since then. Once I tracked the truck and its owner, a father of three, and judging by his son’s latest social media post Mr. Mittens is in safe hands and is now called Coco.

I couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and sadness. On one hand, I was happy to know that the kitten was safe and loved. On the other hand, I knew that the girl would be disappointed that her furry friend was no longer around.

But I knew that I had to tell her the truth, so I made my way to the coffee shop and found her behind the counter, looking worried as usual.

"I have some news about the missing cat," I said, pulling out my phone and showing her the picture I had taken of the cat with its new family. "I found out that it's been adopted by a family a few blocks away. They're taking good care of it and it looks really happy."

The girl looked at the picture and a smile slowly spread across her face. "That's great news, Damian. I'm so glad to know that Mr.Mittens is safe and loved."

I couldn't help but feel a warmth in my chest at her words. I was just happy to be able to do something to make her smile. And as we stood there, looking at the picture of the cat with its new family, I knew that I was falling even more in love with the girl by my side.

I grinned, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "I'm glad you're happy.”

She reached out and squeezed my hand. "Thank you for finding out what happened to it. You're the best.” She grinned, “Needless to say, this week’s coffee on me, so knock yourself out.”

I laughed in return still insisting for her to take my card, but she raised her hand in defiance, “What you just did meant a lot to me, and I wish I could get you free coffee for life, sadly it won’t fly with my manager.”

“Even a lifetime of coffee won’t cover my investigation fee.”

She feigned a gasp, “Oh no, what could I do then to repay thai lifelong debt?”

“How about a date?”

“A date it is.” She handed me my cup of black coffee, her number written on it.

I had always thought that love was something that I could never have, being the son of Batman and all. But as it turns out, even the toughest of heroes can fall head over heels for the right person. And for me, that person was my pretty barista.

[pastel-nature]

My Pretty Little Bastard (Part 3 - Final)

Yandere!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

A/N: All characters in this fic have been properly aged up to 18+. I tried different format for the final part, I hope you guys like it.

You can read Part 1 and 2 here:

TW: ABUSE, targcest (uncle and niece), NONCON, character DEATH.

"Princess?" The voice called out to you, belonging to a man you had never seen before. Instinctively, you looked around for someone, anyone, to be by your side. But there was no one. No guard, no maid, not even Aemond.

"Princess, do not fear. I have been sent by your father and mother. You must come with me."

You shook your head and clutched your belly tight, your eyes wide with fear. Why would they send someone like him? They could come and get you themselves, or have your brothers come and pick you up.

But the man declared himself a knight loyal to House Targaryen and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. And as he spoke, dread filled your heart as he told you of the deaths of your brothers and the war that has been raging for months. Months.

Jace died in a battle above the sea, your twin brother, set to be King, the boy attached to you by the hip, grown into a young man you barely knew. One who was set to inherit the iron throne. His life snuffed just so by barrages of arrows.

Luke, your little Luke, who praises your gentleness and beauty, who follows you with his hand clutched on your gown. You barely talked to him since he grew into a young man, and now you never will, your husband and Vhagar made sure of that.

Baby Viserys, slobering and cooing in your arm, the babe you have seen but once in your life. Gone, swallowed by the sea.

"Your mother is queen now," the knight told you, as if that would somehow heal the gaping hole in your heart. A heart that yearned to turn back time, to run to the comfort of your twin, to run your fingers through the dark curls of your valonqar, and beg your mother to let you stay. To confess that all you wanted in this life was for your mother to say, "Peace be damned, my daughter will stay by my side.” Fight back that one-eyed monster that took you away from your home.

But it was all a blur that day. You remember being held and led through a dark, muddy tunnel, away from the heat and chaos and the tangy smell of blood. The knight led you through the forest next to the castle, and you ran through the darkness together.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you sensed your deranged husband had caught a whiff of your presence. You had not seen him, but his taunts and laughter told you all you needed to know. The threat of death, violence, and abuse loomed before you. But when you turned around, all you saw was darkness. You quickened your pace, trying to outrun the danger behind you.

Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, a loud roar echoed through the trees. You froze in fear, realizing that you were being chased not just by your husband, but by Vhagar as well. The dragon's wings slowly beat the air behind you, and you saw its humongous outline in the dark sky as thunder briefly illuminated the night.

You had been abandoned, a running theme in your life it seemed, the loyal knight turned tail and ran at the sight of the colossal dragon flying above. Now you were lost in the dense forest with no idea where to go.

You could hear the dragon's wings slowly beating the air behind you, and you saw its glowing eyes in the darkness. You knew you couldn't outrun it. You were tired and couldn't go on.

Just when you thought it was all over, you heard your husband's triumphant laughter. He dismounted Vhagar and grabbed your arm, his grip tight and painful. You tried to pull away, but he was too strong.

"You're coming back with me," he growls, his eye blazing with madness. "You're mine, and you'll never leave me again."

You struggle and plead, but it's no use. Aemond drags you back to the castle and throws you into a dark room. Your husband pins you down on the bed, his mockery echoing in your ears.

"What use do you think they'll have for you, huh? Run back to Dragonstone? And what? Claim a dragon and ride to war to avenge your brothers? A pretty little bastard like you has no use for a dragon."

You stare at him in horror, unable to comprehend the monster he has finally unleashed. "You killed my brother," you state, your voice shaking. There's a part of you that wishes to act in disbelief, but you always knew who Aemond truly was. When the knight told you of his heinous deed, you didn't question him for a second, because you knew that your husband was certainly capable of such a heinous act.

"It was easy," your husband says, his smile turning into a sneer. "The craven bastard owed me an eye."

"You know, it's a shame that you're not even a real princess," your husband continued his taunts, "unworthy of the throne and titles."

Suddenly, Aemond's hands shot out towards your neck, his fingers twisted into tight fists. You screamed and thrashed, clearly no match for his strength.

"Aem..nd.. Plea..se…" you choked out with tears streaming down.

But Aemond just cackled, a harsh, guttural sound that sent shivers down your spine. His hands squeezing tighter and tighter around your neck, cutting off air supply.

You gasped for breath, vision growing darker and darker, running out of time. His hot breath trailed your neck as he dragged you below him.

Reprieve was given when his right hand ventured away from your neck to rip apart your gown and bodice. Once the deed is done his fingers dig its way to your entrance, painfully stretching you. You fought with every ounce of strength left, but it was no use. This is not your first time, nor twice, nor dozenth, you had been all too familiar that in the end there is no way out.

"Yet here I am, a rightful born son," he continues, in sync with his cruel thrusts, "It is I who studies history and philosophy, it is I who trains with the sword, it is I who rides the largest dragon in the world, it is I who willingly marries a lowly, ungrateful, foolish bastard to appease father.” Each word brings him closer to his own pleasure.

“It is I who should be king." There, looming over you, Aemond Targaryen, in his purest form.

You feel a surge of anger and pain at his words. He's right, all of it. The circumstances of your birth, your family, his pride, his efforts, and his ambition. All of these things you knew to be true, especially regarding your foolishness.

A foolish little bastard with no dragon to rely on. You curse yourself.

In a sudden shift of mood, Aemond stands up and lights the fireplace. The warmth envelops your senses as he returns to bed, draping his arms over you and peppering your temple with kisses.

"You will come around," he says. "We belong together, you, me, and our child, no matter what. And once your mother is out of the way, we can rule. Together." He takes your hand in his and gently caresses your stomach with his other hand.

The fire licks at the logs, its shadows dancing along the edges of the room. You feel a sense of strength coursing through your veins, encouragement like never before. You know the risk you're taking, but at this point, you also know all too well the things you will continue to suffer if you stay in Aemond's clutches.

"I have to go somewhere," Aemond says, donning his linen shirt. But you stop him midway.

"Don't," you say, holding his hand. "Together, you said. Then let us be, even for a while."

And so that is how the two of you fall asleep together, your breaths rising and falling as one. Or at least, that's how it should be. During your captivity, you learned two things that could save you from Aemond's wrath: one is to avoid him, and the other is to pretend to fall asleep. Skills that you had perfected just as he perfected his machinations.

As the evening began, there was fire, commotion, screams of pain, and the smell of burnt flesh. Even as you sat far away in the edges of the dark forest, the warmth and brightness of the fire bathed you still. You couldn't help but let out a deep sigh of contentment, finally finding solace in the peaceful glow of the flames and relishing the chance to sit and watch the chaos in peace.

You had no dragon, pretty little bastard don’t need one.

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who had left kind replies, reblogs, and likes. See you on the next fic!

[pastel-nature]

My Pretty Little Bastard (Part 2)

Yandere!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

A/N: All characters in this fic have been properly aged up to 18+. Please forgive spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language.

You can read Part 1 here:

TW: abusive behavior, stalking, breach of privacy, targcest between uncle and niece, implied noncon.

Aemond was happy, at least you think so. His touches gentle as he laid his cloak on your shoulder, the slight squeeze on your shoulder reassuring as you rise and face the crowd as husband and wife. He smiled at you, genuine you would like to think, for you never see such expression on his face. 

Low whispers that used to taunt you, gave you comfort that day, in the morning he promises to keep you safe, in the afternoon to keep the family united, and in the night to be gentle. 

The first bedding night still hurts, but the kisses on your temple, apologies, and the gleaming sapphire in the place of his missing eye gave you something else to focus on.

And so, you too strive to be happy. 

You speak naught of the letters to your family. Now that Aemond has changed for the better, you can start anew.

You shielded Aemond with appreciations when your Daemon jabbed on your ‘miserable appearance’.

Even your mother, the woman who was supposed to know you in and out, hugged you in glee. A marriage full of love and passion is a blessing my love. 

Grandsire, in his Kingly outfit, joins the family dinner that day. None of your pleas stuck in his mind it seems. He toast for his handsome son and lovely granddaughter, a new branch to strengthen the dynasty.

Aemond by nature is not a warm person but his efforts shone when he makes time to accompany your daily stroll in the garden of the Red Keep. At times with a book to read, another times with flowers in hand, and that one particular time a sapphire ring to adorn your finger with, a piece of him.

Your life is a dream, mother was right, this marriage is a blessing and you will try your hardest to keep it so. A good dutiful wife is what you strive to be, long forgotten are the dreams to one day came back to Dragonstone, claim a dragon, and soar high in the sky. No, your place is here, right by Aemond’s side.

Nightly activities are stilted still, but both of you made an effort. Some days your husband even went out of his way to pleasure you. The more pleasure involved, the higher chance it is for you to get pregnant my love.

You blushed and nodded.

He’s slowly morphing into a different creature by night. Naked in all senses, unguarded and honest.

When you confronted him about the letters he broke down in tears. Admission of his own insecurities and fears slipped out of his mouth.

I was afraid of losing you to someone else, or that you may have felt that I am not good enough to have you. 

I am not well, not inside, my fears caused me to act irrationally and impulsively.

In this violent and tumultuous world I have to be feared, to pursue power and control at any cost. For you…

For our family, he landed a hopeful kiss on top of your stomach.

When your moon blood ceased to flow and your belly began to swell, Aemond took the last part of his vow with fervor and determination.

Oldtown? You asked him. 

He carefully explains that the difficult pregnancy and the duties of a princess weigh heavily on you. It is best you reside in my new estate, free of burden, to focus on our child.

Built just outside the Oldtown we will have the best maesters and medicines - as well as daily blessings from the sept, to aid your pregnancy.

Lets not worry about your parents, and siblings, they have dragons don’t they? They can visit whenever they want.

And I promise this time, your letters are yours.

The journey to Aemond’s estate was a strangely tense one, with guards, lots of them, and you can even hear the sound of a marching army behind your entourage. Not that you are allowed to look. I do not want you out there, these men deserve not a speck of your attention my love. We are fast approaching anyway.

Loneliness is one thing. It is what you are good at. Years alone at the Red Keep with no one to call allies had prepared you for that.

But total isolation is another matter. 

Upon your arrival it's apparent that you had made a wrong move, this place is a prison. Its bars gilded with gold, its high walls decorated with flowers, its guards and warden wear silks, but prison all the same.

Forget the promised letters and visits, you could not even see out of the windows, not since you entered the carriage that brought you out of the Red Keep.

Is this place even anywhere near Oldtown? You find yourself wondering with no one to ask, not even Aemond.

Ever since you arrived here, Aemond swiftly took off with Vhagar, said his duties awaits him.

By spring, your belly began to prominently swell, it has been the 5th moon since the maesters declared you pregnant, and 4th moon since you arrived in this castle.

Aemond returned intermittently, to give you gifts, hug and kiss you, even bed you. 

Yet he never stayed for the night.

Nor did he indulge in your questions.

Streaks of 10 year old Aemond came up now and then, the boy with disgust in his eye and poison in his words.

And you, once again, learn to avoid him.

Alone as usual, you sang and told tales to your only companion, your belly and the child inside it. But that night something arose, a sinister thing that chokes your nerves and filled your mind with dread as you hear people screaming in pain.

The barn caught fire your grace, please be at ease it will be over soon, your maid said before she fell to the floor, blood on her back.

Princess? A voice called for you.

A/N: Thank you for the encouragement and kind words, I hope you don’t mind the cliffhanger. Reader-chan is still suffering with no happy ending in sight. Well, that’s what you get for gullibly trusting man like Aemond.

Part 3 is out

[pastel-nature]

My Pretty Little Bastard

Yandere!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

A/N: All characters in this fic have been properly aged up to 18+. Please forgive spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language.

TW: abusive behavior, stalking, breach of privacy, targcest between uncle and niece, violence, implied noncon.

You had no dragon. The egg given to you did not hatch nor did the riderless dragons at the pit and Dragonstone responded to your attempts.

And so, that is how you were made to stood beside Aemond at the Dragon pit during mandatory lessons. You both are alike. Or so that’s what people think. You and Aemond share not one likeness besides being a dragonless Targaryen. And no, you did not share any fondness toward each other.

The flowers he gifted you are beautiful, not so much with the words that escaped his lips when he gave them to you. Pretty flowers for a pretty bastard.

His clammy cold hand as he jerked yours away from Dreamfyre. Helaena often thought it would be fun for you both to at least know what it feels like to pet a dragon. Thankfully she catches up fast.

His feet quick to catch up with you whenever you would run to your twin, Jace. A bastard and a craven, he taunted.

So you learn to keep your distance from Aemond in the first place, avoid him, say nothing to him, look away when his eyes met yours. You even learn to identify his steps, so you can quickly turn away whenever he was near. 

Yet his rage and distaste for you grew stronger by the day. If your brothers or parents are near, he would look at you in the eyes and mouthed the word ‘bastard’. When he catches you without them, he would lean in and whisper to you, nadresy, it means bastard in valyrian. God have mercy if he catches you all alone with no one around to help you, one time he slammed you to the wall so hard your ears rung. Recently turned 10 and in growth spurt, he stood over you, his deep blue eyes bore to yours as if willing you to die right there and then. His hand crept to your neck, you were sure he would go and squeeze the life out of you. Luckily your septa realized you were missing and was calling out for you. Then that night at Driftmark happened, and your life changes forever.

Her, he pointed towards you as if you were some cattle. I want her as recompense for my eye.

You cried, clawed, plead to no avail. Everyone thought it best for you to bind and appease the boy who now rode the largest dragon.

They promised to visit and send you letters, yet it did not ease the dread as you sail to King’s Landing.

And that is how you end up amongst the Greens in King’s Landing, alone, largely ignored safe for the occasion when you had to show up as Aemond’s betrothed. 

Aemond quickly grew into the role of the warrior for his family, known for his skill as a warrior and his dragon, Vhagar. Ruthless and ambitious, he is a fearsome sight to behold. 

You had heard maids and nobles described as being tall and handsome, with silver long silver hair, the Targaryen family traits. What good husband he would make, you heard a lady swoon.

They did not know, they never will. Much to your chagrin, Aemond had mastered a sweet and loving facade to mask his violent and obsessive behavior.

As your wedding day approaches, Aemond becomes increasingly obsessed with you, and begins to exhibit signs of worrying behavior. 

He would follow you or have people do so everywhere you go. It is clear by now that all your maids and guards are deep in his pocket.

Enraged whenever you speak to or spend time with anyone else. 

You are my betrothed, do you seek to besmirch our family name by acting so wantonly with others?

And if harsh words fail, he would gently stroke your hair, citing that this soon to be marriage is the only thing keeping the Seven Realms from civil war. He is proud to serve his duty and so should you.

Even your family letters were not save from his hands. Sure, you received them on regular basis, yet at times the letters felt… fabricated. The stamps and handwriting in tact but as a princess you know there are people for hire who are good at forging one. 

You tried to convince yourself that this is just your paranoia talking.

But then you secretly paid one of the stable boy to send a letter for you. Send it outside the Red Keep, you said as you slipped the boy one of your emerald ring. No, you did not have access to any coins either, thanks to Aemond.

He found out. The boy was dragged before you, half dead, his back flayed open. You were terrified of Aemond's violent outburst, and begs him to calm down and listen to reason. Aemond, however, is beyond reason, and is consumed by his rage. In the end the stable boy was ‘mercifully dispatched’, but only after his mother was involved.

You realize that it is impossible to be with someone who is capable of such violent and obsessive behavior, and seek to break off the engagement. Every minute you spent with your delirium and sickly grandfather you would whisper -beg, for him to wake up and put an end to this nightmare of a betrothal.

He knows, he must have, but you did not care, for Aemond could not possibly hurt the King. 

Stupid you, he did not need to.

Rumors began circulating on how you had been so enamored by the prince that you seek his bed every night. Wanton and brazen, Rhaenyra’s daughter for sure.

Moon teas have been prepared for you on a daily basis.

Within weeks everything fell into place, your mother’s consent, The King and Queens’s approval, even House Velaryon agreed to bank your dowry.

It just so happens that the High Septon himself appears to be in the court, as well as notable Lords and Ladies of Seven Realms.

What perfect time for a wedding, Aemond in his gleaming black and gold tunic, leaned in and whispered, don’t you think so my pretty little bastard?

A/N: Thank you for reading. I have another scenario in mind where Dance of Dragons civil war still happens but I have no idea whether to make it a part 2 of this story or start another one. Stay tuned, all feedback and criticism are welcome.

Part 2 is out:

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Hayati

Yandere!Damian Wayne x Reader

A/N: All characters in this fic have been properly aged up to 18+. Please forgive spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language.

TW: abusive behavior, stalking, breach of privacy, implied noncon at the end

You were a classmate and good friend of Damian for years. At first, you were oblivious to his romantic interest, and only saw him as a friend. However, the constant stream of praises, romantic assurances, and mountains of gifts opens your eyes to his true intent.

You were happy at first, who wouldn't? His gifts were personal and sentimental at first.

Over time it grew more and more lavish, you had grown more and more uncomfortable upon receiving them.

The line was drawn when he gifted you a diamond studded necklace that must have been worth a fortune.

When you confront him about it, he broke down and admit that his gifts and lavish presents are a desperate attempt to win your affection and prove his devotion. After all you would never like him without it.

That's not true! You said fervently, you valued him as a treasured friend even without all these gifts.

And so that is how you agreed to become his girlfriend.

And you were happy, for a while. You are his beloved, his habibti, his hayati. It means my life, he said. You are my life.

Damian became increasingly jealous and possessive of you -his hayati, and he was willing to do whatever it took to keep her for himself. He was convinced that they were meant to be together, and he became increasingly controlling and manipulative in an effort to keep you to himself.

Needless to say, he was obsessive and possessive.

Extreme jealousy when it comes to anyone who tries to get close to you.

The tendency to become violent or aggressive when he feels his relationship is threatened.

Willingness to do whatever it takes to protect this relationship, even if it means hurting others.

Manipulation and control became his love language.

Healthy boundary, privacy, and autonomy are thrown out of the window.

But despite his best efforts, you eventually broke up with him, citing his controlling and manipulative behavior as the reason for the split. Damian was devastated by the breakup, and he became even more obsessed. After all you are his hayati, his life.

He turned to his mother, Talia al Ghul, for help. She was aware of his yandere tendencies and did not see anything wrong with them. As a member of the League of Assassins, she sees Damian's willingness to protect his loved ones as a positive trait. She might even encourage his behavior, seeing it as a natural extension of his training and upbringing.

Skilled in the arts of deception and subterfuge, Talia helped Damian to plan and execute your kidnapping, providing him with the resources and knowledge he needed to hold you captive.

He did not even need to hire private investigators or other professionals to track you. You are smart but you are no genius-billionaire-vigilante smart. Damien managed to find you with several clicks from the comfort of batcave.

Instead, he will use his wealth to manipulate people around you. Made them bendy to his will and influence his hayati back to him willingly.

To fund his training and equipment, allowing him to become an even more formidable opponent if anyone were to threaten his relationship (his father, brothers, and sisters came to mind).

To buy or rent a safe house or other secure nests where both of you could live together, away from the influence of the outside world.

Eventually, you were kidnapped and taken to a secure location, held against your will. Damian was convinced that if he could just keep you with him and prove his love and devotion, you would eventually come to see things his way and they could be together forever. But you were terrified of him and the lengths he was willing to go to in order to maintain their relationship.

Damian might keep you in a hidden location at first, such as a remote cabin or underground bunker, where you would be isolated from the outside world. This would allow him to keep you close to him at all times, without having to worry about anything else.

Over time, with good behaviors and promises to never leave his side. Damian might move you to a location that is familiar, such as your own home or that condo near your work place or university. This allows him to maintain a sense of normalcy, while still being able to keep you under his control.

In some cases, Damian might even take his hayati to public places, such as malls, cafes, or restaurants. Places that would allow him to keep an eye on you at all times, while still maintaining the appearance of a normal relationship.

Damian might not see marriage as a necessary step in this relationship. Especially if it might rock the tranquil -and docile, relationship he has you in right now.

After all, what good is a piece of paper when he has his mother's special brew in hand? It is only fitting that you -his hayati, bear a new life soon.

Damian Wayne - Al Ghul learned from the best.

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Let’s talk about Chuck Hansen!

And how he reacts during the crisis of Gipsy Danger’s new co-pilot test run.

Keep reading

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graduatestudysux

This literally can’t get any cuter. 

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This 👆 beats The Last

NaruHina Month Day 5: Ramen

Title: One with the Ramen

Word Count: 875

Timeline: Between 699 and the Last

It was not her graceful movements on the battlefield that took his breath away. It was not her kindness and patience that robbed him of his sane thoughts. It was not her strength, her determination or her burning will that impresses him to his core. Not the most important one, anyway.

  Read More

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I started off knowing very little about his work, but as I grew older I discovered that the silly man I loved watching was capable of so much more, I laughed I cried and I was inspired.

Such an amazing man, I’m sad to see him go.

Goodbye old friend

Robin Williams 7/21/1951 - 8/11/2014

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“I don’t want people to like her anymore, almost, that sounds really, really bad.I want people to realize that actually she’s not the same anymore. You can’t root for her forever, because she’s not there to be your favorite character. That’s not what she’s there for. She’s real. People go down bad paths and they make bad decisions, but it’s always justified in their head. I want the audience to differentiate that and not just be like, ‘Oh, it’s Arya, we love her.’ Because actually look at what Arya’s doing. She’s being eaten away from the inside out, and she’s not stopping it.” - about Arya