#I SAW SOMEONE SURVIVE SUICIDE
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
LOVE AND JOY AND TEARA OF DEEP FULFILLING HAPPINESS AND HOPEFULNESS ON THJS PLANET EARTH ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭
#i know i just posted anout my family getting anxious n stuff but#I. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND#tw for mentions of suicide in later tags#ive seen someone. someone liveblog their breakdown#rb a suicidal poem#and remove all their other posts#i thought they were gonna die.#i really thought they would#and i felt guilty bc i neber reached out and would only report some of their posts abt self harm lr stuff like that.#i tried sending them asks wih just links to things abt like. suicidal prevention lines#idek what im doing#i really thought i was too late#i then sent them an ask if they were ok. safe#THEY REPLIED PRIVATELY#THEY ACTUALLY REPLIED#WITH “IM SAFE”#and now theyre back to posting and reblogging stuff#I SAW SOMEONE SURVIVE SUICIDE#IM JUST SO HAPPY FOR THEM#I REALLY HOPE THEY THRIVE#I REALLY HOPE THE BEST FOR THEM#dhdijxc
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#i saw someone else's post about deleting social media for a while and tbh i think i might do the same#if you have my discord you know where to find me#if youre close to me you probably already know that im not well right now#i think i just need to shut the world off for a while and pretend im in a very small bubble where only surviving to the next day matters#im safe i have folks looking out for me and im feeling more lucid today than i have been lately#and if that changes i made safety nets to make sure i cant hurt myself#but I m gonna just step out for a while and plan on maybe not opening social medias other than discord till next year#i need to make my world feel smaller for a while and just stick my head in the sand until im in a safer place mentally#if youre reading this and youre in a place like i am know that youre not alone#know that its ok to close your eyes for a little while and be selfish#its ok to make your world smaller right now and take a break from fighting if you need to#i understand theres a lot of shame for not fighting for everyone else or feeling suicidal when other folks have it worse off than you do#idk right now im lucid enough to just say i cant think about that right now and thats ok#if you need to focus on just keeping your own feet on the ground for now thats ok#ill see yall next year. please still be here with me. im gonna try my best to still be here too
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
megumi 🤝🏽 yuuji
dying even if it’s only for a good minute only to be brought back to life bc fate realizes if they died for real then they would need to find someone else to fuck over. those two are like fates favorite barbie dolls.
apologies if this post is going to seem all over the place, just bear with me. i don’t even know if you’re going to see this BUT it’s okay bc i need to get this out my system 😭.
starting off — god, imagine the chaos that will ensue when megumi tells nobara & yuuji about his very tragic history with the zenins. but like he wouldn’t even tell them straight up, he’ll just make a little deadpan joke (my sarcastic, sassy son) & the others would look at him like : ??? wtf do you mean by that sea urchin head???
like imagine itafushikugi going shopping for like traditional japanese clothes for a little festival or some shit (megumi was dragged by his spikes to come along) & nobara is having the time of her life finding outfits for her & the boys. like it got to the point where she’s dressing them herself & she shows megumi an outfit that looked similar to the robe he was forced to wear bc of the zenin (it’s obviously not the same) & megumi just refuses to wear a robe with similar color patterns to the zenin robe.
megumi: that looks like the outfit the zenin forced me to wear. i wonder what happened to it, cause the last thing i know, i got blood all over it. so as the second member of the zenin hate club, im not wearing that….
megumi: wait that blue one looks decent. i’m going to try it on.
nobara:
yuuji:
nobara: …did he really leave without giving us the “ getting blood on a zenin’s robe” story?
imagine maki complaining about naoya in front of the first years, & maki just brings up naoya’s onesided beef with megumi & her stories of how naoya was so petty back in his childhood made him remember who tf naoya is (megs have selective memory, it’s okay)
megumi: ugh, he was so annoying. i remember when he came to my middle school back when gojo was busy dealing with the aftermath of his evil ex boyfriend evil plan & he basically kidnapped me. i was stuck in a car with that man for 40 minutes..you would hate him nobara.
maki: yeah you would hate him nobara.
yuuji: i’m sorry he kidnapped you??? why did you say that so casually?
nobara: fuck that. megumi is a disney princess, we know this already. BUT we’re just gonna gloss over gojo had an evil boyfriend?
& imagine when megumi finally tells his friends about the zenin clan was when yuuji just came back from the dead & they were asking how tf that’s possible. & somewhere in that conversation megumi just let it slip that his heart stopped beating once & itakugi looks at him in silence:
megumi: yeah the zenin clan basically forced me to exorcise some curses & complete a ritual to get a snake — that snake fucking bit me. it was my least favorite. but yeah i basically died. then yuuta brought me back. then i was blind for a good minute.
nobara, yuuji, & even sukuna:
megumi: it was a terrible time for me. gojo was even more clingier & protective. it got to a point where he started treating me like i was 6 again… reading me bedtime stories, singing me lullabies & describing the pictures in the stories since i was…yknow blind.
cue itakugi & even sukuna wanting to burn down the zenin but ofc they can’t do that…so they settle for pulling pranks on the members & traumatizing them ofc.
IM ALSO imagining how funny it would be for yuuji to be jealous of yuuta. like bro is basically living yuuji’s fantasy world. i’m giggling at the idea of yuuji fighting for his life to be either megumi favorite or nanami’s favorite.
you also opened my eye to the potential of maki & tsumiki… like i also like to imagine that in a happier world, they would understand each other on such a deep level. but they would also find parts of the other that they wished they had. but on a happier note i like to imagine that megumi would suffer whenever it was brought up that his aunt is basically dating his step sister. like maki would be a menace to megumi. every little thing he do? maki is texting tsumiki in a corner.
maki watching itafushi cook together in the kitchen: i can’t believe megumi has a boyfriend. it’s so cute that he thinks that he can hide this from me. lemme go snitch to tsumiki.
maki listening to megumi describe his fight with sukuna, a cursed spirit who apparently has a stripping problem: oh my god. megumi is truly yuuta’s boy. they both got cursed spirits obsessed with them…i need to tell tsumiki.
maki to megumi after witnessing his suicidal tendencies: don’t make me tell tsumiki.
i honestly love your story. the way you added so much more to megumi childhood is beautiful. it just make soooo much sense. but also your characterization of gojo is so precious to me. i’m waiting for gojo to go apeshit on the zenin. i’m also giggling in anticipation at gojo finding out about yuuta attachment to megumi. i like to imagine him to be kind of worried about it actually, bc that’s not fucking healthy. but i imagine him getting used to it since megumi will have a protector in the form of yuuta & his power of love.
i’m also curious to see mai’s role in this story since.
*sighs in disappointment at gege writing choices*
since she had a crush on megumi…yeah. but imma just interpret that as she wants to be his family. it keeps me sane
i also wanted to ask if there’s a chance that you would write a megumi POV of what happened in the zenin clan? ofc i would understand if you wouldn’t since it leaves a much more ominous feeling to the events. plus yuuta running commentary is a good mix of angst & humor so ofc i understand.
Yuuji: man fushiguro almost checks the boxes for a Disney princess. except he was never kidnapped or enslaved
Megumi, sold to the Zenin clan, who later kidnapped him: *sweating*
Nobara and Yuuji would be the co-vice presidents of the "fuck the Zenin clan" club if they knew what happened. They would be the presidents but yuuta and maki are already in a death match for the position and they're trying to avoid the bloodshed. they are not allowed to be treasurer because neither of them know how money works.
megumi is unaware that a formal club has been formed.
Megumi is suffering SO HARD in any world where maki and tsumiki are together. they won't stop ganging up on him when it comes to his love life and general wellbeing and holding hands where he has to see it. maki lectures him about his suicidal tendencies in the field, holds up one finger, calls tsumiki, and lets her pick up where she left off. maki tries to talk to him about relationships one (1) time and he tries to drown himself.
see i'm pretty open to writing a megumi POV but it, like most of my stories, falls in this nebulous category of "if i have the time." like, i've thought about writing megumi's pov before, there's a lot of stuff that happened that exists as like, background knowledge for me that will never make it through yuuta's pov because it doesn't make sense for yuuta to find out about it. It would be very tonally different, but if i did write it, it would be a different work entirely and i'd be making sea glass gardens into a series.
i'm eternally tempted by the siren call of making my works into a series. If i did it with sea glass gardens, i would want to add a one shot of Megumi's pov during the time leading up to sea glass gardens and a short multi-chapter of the gojo, nanami, shoko teen parenting trio. If I have the time, it will exist; if i don't, it won't.
#ironically the one thing that WOULD endear yuuta to yuuji is finding out about all of this#yuuji would instantly love him for all he did for Their Boy. it's the only way i see megumi actually fessing up to what happened#i think megumi's just someone who's really private and uncomfortable with people knowing a lot about him and he would try to hide this from#itakugi for as long as he could. it probably eats at him that the second years all saw him like this. i think he just hates feeling vulnera#megumi gives him the /extremely/ abridged version of events to get yuuji and nobara to chill about yuuta and how he acts (yuuji is convince#that there's no one who could be that perfect nobara keeps looking for homosexual explanations) and they instantly veer hard into finding#out everything there is to know about the zenin and how to hurt them and also yuuta's like. beloved in their eyes. megumi is their boy.#they love their boy. yuuta saved their boy. ergo they love yuuta now. it's simple math.#tonal shift is a huge sort of struggle with me as a writer just because i change my styles with every narrator#which is why it's kind of hard to flip between works if the tone is too different. i was trying to juggle sea glass gardens and toy rosarie#and i was just internally screaming b/c yuuta and jack could NOT be more different with narration styles and i was like 'fuckkkkkkkkk'#with yuuta i structure sentences with a lot of 'space' in them. i don't have a better word for it i'm not actually trained in writing so#it's all just whatever shit i made up along the way i have no officially terms. anyway. Yuuta's sentences are structured to have this sort#of detached distance between the actual message and the start of the sentence. So we end up with a lot of sentences that start w/ structure#like “yuuta thinks” and Yuuta feels“ b/c I think of yuuta as a very detached person because of how he lived. it's a survival mechanism.#a lot of the meat of what he feels has to come in almost absentmindedly. So you end up with Yuuta's suicide scene and losing the knife and#him having a line like “He swears he never meant any of the bad things he did” and the fact that he thinks his own survival is a bad thing#/he's/ to blame for is almost backdoor'd in as a given premise. it's assumed. it's not even the point of the sentence. he's been living wit#jack murdock meanwhile is an intensively retrospective character that's meant to make you almost feel claustrophobic from how “close” his#narration style is. a lot of the actual message is conveyed through imagined scenarios and emotional recollection. he's a character steeped#in regret who has been torturing himself with it for years. yuuta's survival mechanism is isolation but jacks been yearning to get back wha#he lost for so long and dreaming of it that he's steeped in really vivid internal imaginings.#with jack you have multipage lamentations remembering his son buying cereal with him but yuuta drops the fact that his parents stopped#loving him at some point and it's not even the most important thing in the sentence. it's included as a qualifier because yuuta has accepte#so much of the bad things that happened to him when he shouldn't have whereas jack hasn't accepted ANYTHING that happened.#Yuuta uses a lot of very clean cut grammatically correct narration and jacks is riddled with a bunch of “ain't's” and grammatical errors.#he has an accent for lack of a better term. so you end up w/ two characters who convey information in different ways prioritize different#info in their sentences use different sentence structures etc. so megumi would have a /very different/ style and tone from yuutas that woul#sort of shape any fic that came through him because all of my fics are primarily shaped through the narrator's voice. it's also why I set#kind of hard lines about whether a fic can have any narrator or just specific narrators b/c it determines the whole tone.
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
the last unread letter sirius got from regulus was a suicide note
#corvus thoughts™#more a suicide letter without an actual goodbye#because some part of regulus thought he might just survive#he knew that sirius would never open it#but a childish part of him still hoped#because he had no one else in his life to apologise to or thank#sirius got the letter right after someone he knew was killed#and burnt it#hed only remember the letter when he saw the headline in the newspaper#marauders#sirius black#regulus black#tw suicide mention#suicide#tw suicide#that should cover filtering i hope#for ppl
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
in a hunger games-style scenario I think that the majority of the cql cast would immediately die because 90% of the main cast are 1. bonkers self-sacrificial for their loved ones and 2. incredibly ready to kill themselves in dramatic ways out of despair. when the dust settles jgy will walk out of it wearing a perfect customer-service smile until nhs snipes him from the shadows
#wwx HAS survived scenarios like this but if his loved ones are involved he's die for them immediately#I don't imagine lwj and wwx fighting each OTHER in that poll I think they'd both rather die#lwj would be hard to take out since he's physically indestructible and not super prone for dying for others#but he's not really got a survivalist instinct and other characters are way more clever than him#IF being able to manipulate people and events matters then nhs is going to win but wwx is also super smart#and he and lwj are op enough to just break out of the constructed setting anyway and walk out together#but that's less fun#anyone remember the crit role battle royales? those were fun#in THAT case. wwx would win due to being so so powerful AND so so smart and wily and clever and inventive#nhs and jgy don't have the physical power to defeat him#nor does anyone else#even lwj. I think#I don't mean to make light of suicide either. in canon they were dramatized and excessive in number#but they were all genuine tragedies and stemmed from legitimate distress grounded in character writing that made sense#mxy wanted revenge. wwx lost everything he loved and felt it was his fault. myu saw her husband fall and was alone#against a horde of conquerers who took her home and were going to kill her next. such a proud and imperious woman couldn't stand that#xxc realized he'd been deceived by someone he abhorred and had murdered dozens of defenseless people#wq and wn were resigned to dying together and paying back the debt they owed to wwx#qin su...okay yeah that was a bad one#but she was also horrified by the reveal about jgy and her son's death#they all made sense! even if they were extreme reactions#cql txp
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
oofta
#vent in tags#bc holy hell actually#maybe calling people who lived thru a relative committing sewer slide ‘selfish’ for calling themselves suicide survivors is not the move#like. i was suicidal. my mother and father had to hide the kitchen knives level of suicidal#i’m by definition a survivor of suicide as i have attempted multiple times#i am ALSO a suicide survivor for the fact that my mom quite litcherally killed herself#which ykw that does? ykw grief does to a person? obviously fucking not#bc it makes u suicidal WOW who would have thought the person whose relative died to depression and suicide is ALSO SUICIDAL#i am prone to the sads#if u want to create a new term for either surviving your own attempts OR surviving someone else’s then do that#don’t just shit on grieving people for idfk. Grieving. that feels. IDK. SHITTY.#like dawg i did not ASK to be here. i want my fucking mom back. stop stepping on my toes when i did nothing to u#fuck u!!!!!!!#idfc if u dont like the term find a new one recoin smth DONT COME AFTER ME FOR MY MOM DYING#u can REALLYYYYYYYYYYY tell when someone has not experienced a close loved ones death#i’m not talking about meemaw or pawpaw dipshit i’m talking about your custodial parent. your sibling uve slept next to since birth. your bes#t friend who uve never let go of. until that happens u will not understand true grief over the death of a loved one#idk on animals yet bc i have not had a pet pass on me. yet. one of my cats is 15 tho so well see how that goes#and to lose someone to suicide is like! idk The Fucking Worst#sorry moots. this is /nbh i just wanted to indulge in other survivors stories on tumble er dot com but the first post i saw made me want to#rip my hair out. dear god
1 note
·
View note
Note
Honey, I want you to know, I mean this with love when I say it. We are all going to be fine no matter what happens. Nothing is going to change. If Harris gets elected then Harris gets elected. If Trump gets elected then Trump gets elected. Nothing will change. Your life won't change. If you want to see what will happen if Trump gets elected then look at his last term. He did nothing of importance and if he did, none of it went away while we had Biden. Harris won't do anything of any importance either. Your life won't change. I promise you, you and everyone else will be just fine.
Every time I hear someone say this, I think of this picture:
This is the San Francisco Gay Men's Chorus. The ones in white are the members who survived the AIDS epidemic. The rest did not.
I was a teenager when Trump was elected in 2016. I was 16 years old, just beginning to question my sexuality while also supporting my best friend who had come out as trans. The only adult I could trust to talk to about it was my geography teacher. After Trump was elected, corporations had the greenlight to price gouge every imaginable necessity, including the insulin my teacher relied on. He couldn't afford all the payments even with insurance so he started rationing. The last day of school before winter break, I wished him happy holidays, gave him a Christmas card, and never saw him again.
I know you mean well, but I say this in the nicest way possible: you are speaking from a place of luck. Just because you haven't lost anyone or anything as a result of the past Trump administration does not mean everyone had the same experience. I know my experience is not a unique one. I could cite the widely available statistics about abortion restrictions and maternal mortality, or gender-affirming care bans and trans suicides, or the pandemic, anything else we've been seeing when conservatives take power.
A lot of us are right to be scared, either because we've gone through this before or because we stand a real risk of losing something.
#not dc related#personal#us elections#us politics#2024 presidential election#election 2024#tw politics
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
@dukeoftheblackstar and heres another snippet from the same fic which i think gives a kinda sympathetic view to mace. i've taken this straight from my drafts so i'll leave the old tags there. now i'm gonna reblog some pro mace posts lol but i wont tag you in those cause i think i've probably tagged you in enough at this point lol
This snippet is from 'When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it'
It's from Chapter 7, ghost Mace is explaining to past Jaster what he knows of Jango's life, in the future. Here, he's describing the moment he killed Jango and his feelings in the aftermath.
In the midst of the battle, a man started shooting at me. We fought, it was a brutal thing, I was barely keeping up in spite of the Force. I did not know who he was or why he was shooting for me but I did know that if I ceded any space at all, he would take it and I would be dead.
In the end, I came out on top. I can't say I was intending for it, I was just trying to make contact in any place I could, but I caught him with my saber between his helmet and chest plate. He died, after I decapitated him and it wasn't until after the fact that I discovered that he was the one I had been searching for all those years before.
As a young Knight I set out to bring Jango Fett home, to right a wrong, but I was unable to find him. I had thought of him, often. The wrong I had not been able to right for my people. The man I could not save. And then, I stepped on to a dusty planet that I hardly knew, for reasons I hardly understood and I killed a man.
Jaster swallows. When Mace looks at him, honestly paints his face and regret curls at the edges.
"Quite without knowing it, I had killed the one I hadn't been able to save, years after the fact."
His son.
"I hadn't saved him but he survived all the same. He didn't need me to save him, he'd saved himself. I'd thought him dead but he lived to walk up to me all those years later. He survived that slave ship so that he might die at my hand years later."
The fact that he's sorry for it doesn't really cushion the blow. This is the man that killed his son. He is dead because of Jango but in a far off future, Jango is dead because of him.
How did he die? This Jedi? He had time to discover Jango's identity after the battle so he must have survived it. Did he later die of wounds Jango gave him? Jaster thinks not. None of this has been easy, none of this is simple. There remains a weight in the air, the burden of the remainder of Jango's story. An oddity considering it should end here.
He looks back to Windu, watching his face.
"I did not mean to kill your son Jaster. I meant to save him, but I was quite unable. The idea of him haunted me as steadily as any ghost and then, I killed him. I didn't know who he was when I struck and I did not know when he fell that he had already killed me, long before that day. It would be three years before my heart would stop but I was dead from the day Jango Fett landed on Kamino."
"I did not intend it, but I did it all the same. I am sorry that I killed him and I have to live with that regret even now, in death. I remain here knowing that I killed the man I was intending to save, the man who I had never forgotten failing."
Jaster is a warrior. He knows what a fight to the death is like. He has known the ferocity that an adult Jango would hold long before he knew that in a later time, the galaxy would know his son as 'The Jedi killer'. What a title. Jaster had not wanted this life, the one that from Mace's perspective has already passed, for his son. He wanted something kinder, easier, for him. It hadn't happened. Jaster had been unable to give that to him.
Mace didn't have any choice but to kill him but, all the same, as a father it is Jaster's right to hate him, just a little, for taking his sons life.
Jango deserved better than the galaxy that had delivered him to this Jedi on that day. He deserved better than the life that had shaped him in to the man that would attack this Jedi and lose. He deserved, parents that wouldn't die before he had finished growing, a second chance that worked out differently. He deserved everything and anything Jaster could give him and maybe, even that could not be enough. Could never be enough.
Mace looked at him. "Everyone in that hall is there because Jango is responsible for their death. I am not sure if the same can be said for me. Jango is responsible for my death but is that the reason I linger?"
The Jedi looks far away. "He haunted me far before he ever died and now I haunt him far before he ever killed me. He lined up the pieces of my death long before I met him in that arena. And I killed him long before he killed me. Time is not linear for the dead, but in the case of Jango and I it is even less so. The story of our haunting is a circular thing and in truth, I can not really say who of us is haunting who
He meets Jaster's eyes. "We are here to discuss why we haunt Jango. But it would be remiss of me to not tell you that your son has haunted me every single day since I left on a mission to retrieve him, to try and offer reparations for what my peoples neglect brought down on him, and came home empty handed."
"We thought him dead, but I did not forget him. From that day, I've carried the weight of what we did to him. I have often thought of him over the years. You hold no blame here, but we just might."
I love this bit. To me it's very clear that Jango's death was largely Jango's fault. In this fic, Mace finds himself on Galidraan with little understanding of why he's there, just trying to act in the moment to defend himself and other Jedi. Jango starts shooting at him, clearly shooting to kill. Mace knows that he's in danger, he knows that if he dies (because Jango intends for one of them to die. He will not stop until one of them is dead.) Jango will go on to kill more Jedi until one of them gets the upper hand, and so Mace acts in a way that is very understandable and defends his life with all he has. He's reacting rather than planning any of this, Jango is not giving him a chance to think about any of it, so when Jango is about to get the upper hand, Mace takes the only move available to him, and goes for his neck.
It's understandable, he had no choice, and yet, because of who Mace is, I think he'd find it very difficult to come to terms with having killed someone in that way. It's horribly violent (lightsaber deaths always seem to be??? Decapitation isn't quite bisection but it's not great. However, I think such a thing would be even harder for Mace to confront than it was for Obi Wan.) and I think Mace would struggle to accept that he really didn't have any choice, and anyone would have done the same.
And then!!! This Mace, is a Mace that has been metaphorically haunted by Jango ever since he 'failed to save him'. To know that Jango was out there to find all along and Mace just didn't manage it? That Jango didn't need Mace to escape, but that he suffered for longer thanks to his own rescue being left to him. That in that suffering, he became the kind of man, that would be in the arena, forcing Mace to kill him. That had Mace done anything about this constant reminder (was that a sign? From the force?) of Jango for all these years, he could have helped Jango. He might have stopped him doing what he did with the clones. He might have helped him process what had happened, so that Jango didn't end up on a suicide mission, determined to throw himself head first in to fights he can barely win, only so he can try and repent for not dying with the rest of them, the first time or the second.
Mace was a master Jedi, if anyone could help someone work through trauma, it was him. (His struggle to process it all himself is 100% not a sign of his ability. You can understand how to healthily process emotions to the n th degree, but it won't stop you being human and falling to human difficulties. He is the best person to help anyone else through this stuff, but when it comes to himself, he's too close. That's why Jedi help each other work through stuff.) But Mace wasn't there, because he didn't think Jango was out there. In spite of this constant lingering reminder at every step, he didn't look. And so Jango carried on, hating that he survived, living only to carry out this corrupted form of justice, until he finally met the end that he thought he should have met years before.
Mace couldn't help him, and then, he ended up doing the worst thing possible for him. He gave him this violent death, that in Jango's grief and pain, he was sure he deserved. I just think the more Mace learnt about Jango, after finding out he's just killed the man he thought had died thanks to his failure all those years before, going on to see the depths of what happened to Jango, what it made him, the more responsible he'd feel. If he'd only found him. What he went through on the ship. What the clones went through. All those years hating himself for surviving. Boba, who Jango wanted in spite of his self hated, who he loved so fiercely but could NOT do right by.
I think Mace would look at each part of it and a part of him would be like 'none of this had to happen. If you'd done your job, you could have saved him from that ship, from becoming this. You would have spared him from himself, but also the clones, Boba, everyone else he hurt.' I do think he would have known that this wasn't rational, and would have worked through it, been working through it, as he lived on and more and more things crept out of the woodwork to remind Mace of his one failure. Each revelation about jango is something else Mace might have prevented.
And then, Mace's death at palpatines hand. He speaks to the other ghosts and suddenly he sees. He sees the big picture. What Jango did to him, did to his people.
Mace has it completely right when he looks at this haunting as a circular thing. Who is haunting who? Time isn't linear for ghosts. He was haunting Jango from the start, but also, Mace didn't start haunting Jango till he'd already killed him. Mace not being able to forget that mission early in his career, the boy he hadn't been able to save. Was that bog standard guilt? His brain kicking up dust? Or was it the force warning him that Jango was out there, that he should look. Was it neither? As a force sensitive could Mace feel his future self, pulled back in time by his connection to Jango? Was the feeling of Jango haunting him, actually his own ghost, obsessed with the man he was tied to, the one responsible for his death.
He and Jango orbit each other before either of them are dead in a way the other ghosts don't. But it being uncertain who's haunting who? That's true of all the ghosts. Jango haunts them just as much they do him. They are ghosts because they can't let go of him and he can't let go of what he did to them.
#I've been thinking about this#cause i saw a post talking about who's fault Jango's death was (i think it was a poll?)#anyway i have very strong feelings about this. because i very much do think that Jango was never surviving to see the war#he'd done his bit dooku didn't need him. i don't think dooku set up his death at Mace's hand. but i do think that he knew the man Jango was#and knew that by placing him in that arena; he'd get himself killed. arena full of Jedi. Jango always would have tried to fight them and#it would always be a fight to the death. because of who he was. his pride & he didn't care about surviving enough to walk away from a fight#he was too intelligent to not know he wasn't getting out alive. tangle with nasty ppl you wind up dead when they don't need you.#& he knew bad ppl well. but he never tried to get away. i think that was cause a part of him wanted to die. he walked in to that death#i do think he loved Boba. but i think he hated himself hated that he'd survived everyone. more. think he'd convince himself boba was better#with him dead. so i don't think mace had any hand in Jango's death really. if not him it would have been someone else. Jango would have#created that situation with anyone. HOWEVER#i don't think Mace would see it that way. i think he'd struggle to accept that he did the only thing he could and i think the understanding#that it was him or Jango BECAUSE Jango was determined to die & take out as many Jedi on the way out as possible. would make it harder for#him to accept. he completely played in to this suicidal impulse. Jango was a sentient in pain who needed help. mace wants to be someone who#helps.but instead he let himself be played.he was the sword and the hand that held it and he killed him in a particularly violent move#(which i think was unavoidable in the moment. if he'd delayed he would have died he was acting not thinking. Jango made it so.)#it was not Maces fault but i think he'd struggle to accept that even when knowing it objectively.if it were another Jedi he'd help them see#but for himself it's hard to come to terms with. knowing that dying in such a violent manner was what Jango thought he deserved#i think would make mace feel like he'd been the worst version of himself in that moment and someone he could have helped payed for that#it was fun to explore in this fic cause mace had been sent out to find Jango after galidraan and it had stuck with him as a failed mission#early in his career. in the time since he's done all these amazing things but he always remembered boy he couldn't save at the start#and then. years later. mace ends up inadvertently killing that same man. he doesn't know who Jango is.he has no idea that he survived until#he's already dead at Mace's hand. i think theres a horrible sense of neatness to it all.#so yeah! i don't think mace is guilty but i think he's the kind of person that would feel he was all the same#Mace is great#part 3
0 notes
Text
you know, maybe I'm wrong, but my interpretation of Anakin/Vader and Redeemed Anakin is that he pretty much is aware he's terrible. He pretty much thinks of himself as a monster even before becoming Vader, he considers himself one as soon as he had to leave Shmi to survive as a slave alone while he got to become The Chosen One and travel the stars (his basic understanding of love is self-sacrifice), he knows the tusken massacre was bad, he knows murdering disarmed Dooku was bad; he knew turning against the jedi and helping Palpatine was bad; he's extremelly self aware of his violence and hates himself for it.
I think it's easy to think of him as nonchalant or as sort of a shameless dick about it all because his General At War Persona was to be jokey and pretend he's having fun. He's very confident on his ability for Murder (tm), he (tragically) became one of the Best general jedis in the order by becoming good at murder, he's useful when he's being murderous at the right people; so he has no doubts on his abilities on this regard; that doesn't mean he isn't aware of how fucked up and cruel it is, but he keeps doing it, and it's all he knows; he was born in violence, raised in violence, taught to yield a extremelly dangerous weapon, groomed into violence, rewarded for violence, cheered for violence, with Ahsoka then he had to teach violence, and then violence just became something that ran in his blood, it came to him easily, too easily because he was never given the means to deal with such a extreme hyperviolent paradigm. So yep, he knows he's good at murder and little self-preservation.
And he probably despised himself for it, he saw himself as less than a being with human rights, he saw himself as a weapon and he hated not being seen as a person, and at some point he became apathic about it, the fight left him as soon as he had no future with a family. As Vader his hate and anger is just cold fury, is mostly apathy and a void of emotions, there's just pain and self-disgust and regret and old anger, there's not even trying to be something else anymore, it's all he's ever been good at and all he's being asked to do.
So redeemed Anakin (which canonically just means Ghost Anakin lmao) acting oblivious or playing the dumb or victim card it's just something I can't even imagine him to do; like Anakin is aware of being violent and messed up and Bad, but he is completely unable to concieve the idea of having been a victim because besides violence, Anakin's other big trait is that he never ever processes trauma and he horrifically has a history of blaming himself instead of the people who owned him.
This guy, when he was at his best as a Jedi, was pathologically prone to suicidal missions even when it wasn't a necessity, he thinks he's an asset, a means for his superiors to impose their stance and chose to own it, instead of blaming his superiors he just hates himself because he can't stop pathetically reliving when he left his mom behind, when he carried her corpse, when he retaliated against even innocents including kids, when he hurt Padmé, all the times he failed, and the he lived in his personal, fitly created just for him, inferno and had no plans to escape it until one certain sunshine farmer showed up, and all because he thinks he deserves the torture and the abuse and being owned because he's just good at murder and nothing else.
So yeah, no one probably hates him more than himself. Someone could tell Ghost Anakin he's a monster, the worst thing that ever happened in the galaxy and he would say "Yes." And no attempts at arguing or whatsoever, his dignity couldn't be lower if he tried, he would half-heartly agree if someone like Luke said the emperor did him wrong by, y'know, torture him? But then he would also say something like "Well, yes, but cruelty is the way of the Sith, what else could be expected", he's just terribly messed up and couldn't stop himself from defending, at least a little, his literal groomer and abuser and master, and he certainly won't expect forgiveness, like,,,,at all. He can, and will, make excuses for people directly hurting him, but he also would retaliate in terrible ways against anyone, guilty or not, if it meant doing it for someone he cared about.
So Anakin is just...used to being used, and falls easily into being used because it's what he knows best, freedom feels useless and uncertain after he lost padmé.
It's an increíble vicious circle: He worked himself hard to be useful because being useful it's what makes people like him and a means of survival, he then hates himself for being just useful and loosing his personhood, and because he hates himself and thinks he doesn't deserve any sort of...human rights, he keeps on being a mere weapon, an object, but what a good and expensive weapon at least, repeat.
So nope, this guy would be completely unable to even dare to play the victim or excuse himself, even less act as if he doesn't understand he did wrong.
#anakin skywalker#darth vader#star wars#rambling#well that was a little longer than i expected#long post
418 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unwanted Soul = Requested
[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]
The Request
Part 1 (here) — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9 — Part 10 (END)
You weren’t a powerful Overlord nor were you the weaker ones to have their souls owned by other demons to survive in this hellhole. You’re merely capable enough to get by your everyday life. Like always, you’d stay clear from any of ongoing battles or powerful demons that were out and about. Your keen 6th sense to pinpoint potential dangers was always your go-to during your outings
You kind of treated Hell as your paradise to shut-in in your room and read all the comics you want plus watch all the TV shows you want. You were one of the rare demons that get connection to the Earth realm where you can enjoy the guilty pleasures you spend your days doing. Of course, your death was a suicide as you saw no life ahead of you
But you really really should have stayed in that day. It started out as any other day in Hell and you were on your way to the usual supermarkets for the junk food and drink you love. Normally, it was uneventful, until you caught sight of a dying demon, no, ‘wounded’ would be the right word since demons would only demon by angelic blades, even you knew that. Still, the demon was heavily wounded
It must have been a good few minutes since you caught weaker demons attempting to take advantage of the weakened demon as easy prey. You immediately took out your notebook, scribbing a phase before tearing it out and blow on it lightly. The page turned to white sparkles before taking shape of a row of angelic spears around you, it launched at the weak demons before they could do anything to the wounded one
You took went to the wounded demon quickly as your spears faded to nothing after doing its damage. You held his limb hand and closed your eyes, visualizing your cozy apartment and the ground swallowed the two of you up. In the blink of an eye, you were back home, sighing in relief
Not even a moment, you were knocked to the ground and pinned down by your shoulders and thigh. You struggled a bit before you realized it was the wounded demon that was pinning you down with radio dials for eyes
Without thinking, you reached into your coat pocket and took out a piece of paper, slamming it onto his face and blew at it. The paper faded to nothing but sparks then the demon stilled before closing his eyes and slumping forward onto you. Unconscious. But you invited someone you shouldn’t have into your home
This had to be Alastor, the Radio Demon
You grimaced, eying Alastor on top of you sleeping like a harmless deer. You thought of throwing him back out into the streets, but you didn’t exactly have the heart to. You came to the conclusion of healing him as fast as you could then sending him on his merry way! Yes!
Noooo!!! Why is he still here!?!?!?!?!?!?!??????!!!!!
“My dear, you really should be taking more care of your diet. This is hardly filling or healthy for you.” Alastor eyed the cup noodle you were about to open up like you were holding trash “But it’s fast and gets my hunger sated.” You eyed back, “It’s not like I’m feeding you this. I cook for your meals anyways…” You continued roaming around the kitchen, rubbing a fork, and setting a timer for your food. Ignoring the closeness of Alastor. “As long as it doesn’t concern you, it’ll be fine. I’ll treat you better since you just healed up. These are my own indulgence.” “And I appreciate your hospitality, dear, truly, I do. The matter at hand is your consumption!” Alastor grabbed your precious cup noodle lunch away, “I shall take over your meals from now on.”
Yes, you have fully healed Alastor and he’s back to full health. No, you didn’t tell him to stay. In fact, the moment his wounds were all healed, you showed him the open door, waiting for him to leave. He didn’t exactly let you make him leave. He said he was staying to repay your kindness, but all he was doing was inserting him into your afterlife and really making it Hell
At first, he praised your unique power to summon anything you write with a gentle blow, especially the part where you put him to sleep the first time. Then he urged you to make a name for yourself, but you really just want to shut yourself in your room and indulge in your time-wasting hobby. You told him off and shut yourself in your room, but he would just appear through the shadows and apologise, saying he’d leave the matter
When that whole business was done, Alastor got worse. You’re positive some other demons would love to be treated this way, but you’re just weirded out. It started out small, Alastor making meals like he said, shifting your schedule to a healthier one. Then taking care of your needs whenever you are about to do something. Even as simple as getting a glass of water
Then it escalated to touches. A handholding here, maybe he’s lean into you while reading. Or he’ll lay next to you in your own bed. Shift closer to you while on the couch. Stare at you while you were busy reading manga or watching animes and shows. Plus you could feel him staring at you while you sleep from the shadows even though you told him not to
But the most unnerving thing was when you would go restock on your food and other supplies. Alastor being the gentleman would carry and pay for your stuff. That you’re used to and didn’t care since either way, you had your methods. It was what happens during the two of you walking
“Alastor…” You hugged your coat tighter as your lips pressed together tightly from the scene, your eyebrows furrowed from the tense situation you were in. You had just left the shop to get new books and volumes, only to be met with such a sight. “What…” “My darling, your timing is perfect.” Alastor threw away the torn body of what used to be a demon. The street was covered with a layer of thick red and black blood. Hellborns and sinners alike were all brutally ripped away by the fearsome Radio Demon. “These pest dares to look at you wrongly, surely they deserve a good, limb pulling.” He walked over to you with his ever-present smile, offering his clean hand. “Shall we head home, My Doe?” You feel yourself tense as you firmly told him, “Just because they stare at me a little long and spat out rude remarks, it’s not an excuse or reason to torture them like this. I’m… I don’t exactly mind unless they attack.” Alastor grabbed your hand and kissed it, “Dearie, why give them the chance to harm you when I can prevent it? You can name and point fingers, I’ll be your killer.”
Trapped was what you felt at home and anywhere, as long as Alastor was there, you didn’t like it. Those sweet romantic gestures and attention from him that you would only see in your books and shows left a bad taste in your mouth.
At the 4th year, however, something changed. Alastor sold his soul to you as the ‘last’ act of pure devotion and loyalty to you. Since the contract was all by your rules, you made use of it
Limit Alastor’s powers because it scares you how much he could do and the destruction he could cause. Forbid him from devouring or owning souls because he does it so easily when he thinks you were wronged in any way. And most importantly, forbid him from disobeying your words, whatever they may be, that way, you can finally have peace
How Alastor was still able to be this unnerving, you didn’t know and you didn’t want to know. Somehow, the contract was something like a declaration that the two of you were romantically involved with ecah other? If it made sense. It didn’t, really
Alastor still stayed with you because he had told you a long time ago that his home was destroyed in a brutal battle, hence why you found him that battered. So you offered yours. You did manage to set some firmer ground rules with the contract’s help. Like no entering your room or throwing away your junk food
Though Alastor still plays a big part in your life just because. You had wanted a lover before, but Alastor had proven how bad a relationship could go, and you two didn’t even established anything! You love fiction, fiction is life or afterlife. You can just drown yourself in the world of fiction and never leave
That’s the basis of your power. It’s like summoning through writing and the faint blow from your lips. You have to be aware of the components though, the hardest to summon was definitely the angel spears. It was the day after extermination and a spear was stuck into a demon, you were curious and took it back with you. You studied it and tested it out, knowing its strength and limitations before actually attempting to summon it. Works well enough, since it was easy to study
In the blink of an eye, 7 years had already passed. While Alastor was out on buying new ingredients for your celebration dinner of surviving another extermination, you caught the Princess of Hell and her promotion on the ‘Happy Hotel’. A place that welcomes anyone, a place that gives anyone a chance. It sounds lovely, but you didn’t have the mentality and energy to help out
A foolproof plan came to mind. You could, no, should send Alastor there. He loves entertainment! He wouldn’t be bored there! The hotel is much bigger and there’s more people there for him to hang out with. Plus he would definitely get a room there since he’s going to be staying. Even when he disagrees, because you just know he would rather stay by your side, you can use the contract as a last resort
“My dear!” Alastor greeted the moment he came back from his little shopping. He gave you a peak on the crown of your head when he walked past you, then headed to the table to place the bags of items down. “Did you hear about that ridiculous plan the Princess told in the picture box? Hahaha! It’s sure to fail! No way in any universe would just a silly and childish thing happen! No, sir!” “I want to help her with it, it sounds like a good plan. It’s better than annual exterminations.” You spoke while coming over to check the things Alastor brought. “But you know I’m more of a home person and not the go-out and help-others type.” “Exactly, dearie, we need not care for such fantasy.” Alastor nodded along. “That’s why you’re going in my place.” You stated firmly without blinking or shifting in your spot, at the growing static, you looked up to see Alastor’s eyes turned to radio dial. Very rarely are those directed at you since he swore he’d never do you harm or wish you harm. “You’ll go and help the Princess to make it a success.” Alastor’s eyes shifted back to normal, narrowing as he asked, “Till how long, my dear?” You had to control yourself to hide a smile as you spoke, “For as long as it takes of course. You can’t rush redemption, right? And it’s the first of its kind too.” The static grew again, you knew Alastor was getting annoyed with such a wish (order) from you. “But this would take a long while. I’d be returning to check on you, yes?” “Oh, no. Can’t interrupt your work.” You said, carrying your pile of snacks to your little comfort corner and dropping it with huff, there was a skip in your step as you returned back to the table. “You can’t come back here nor see me when in the service of the Princess. Well, you can see me when I’m the one to approach you or call for you, that’s the only exception.” Alastor would have a frown on by now if it weren’t for his insistence on the power of smiles, “Who would take care of you? Who would watch over you? Who would tend to you? Who would protect you while I’m gone, sweetheart?” You laughed, “Don’t be so dramatic. I can handle myself. It’s just like before I met you,” You didn’t miss the radio crackling like it broke connection, “But this time, I have you as a backup should I need.”
Making Alastor leave you wouldn’t have been possible without the contract and the fact that his soul was yours to control. Very pushy but you had to do what you had to, it was all to regain that quiet and isolated shut-in life you love. Never have you missed the silence in your home and the void of a watchful gaze all around you
You squealed and smiled brightly, “Time to chill and laze around!”
Oh how the Radio Demon was fuming as he made his way to that ratchaed hotel. He shouldn’t have let you know of such a news. If that inferno picture box was broken, then you wouldn’t know. No, you have your phone, so that makes no difference. Maybe it was the fact that that cannibal chef was gone that Charlie had time to promote that idea of hers?
This would be his first appearance since 7 years ago. He kept his presence gone from the public eye just to hide his connection and fancy towards you. If demons knew you had his soul, who knows what danger you’d be in? He can’t let that happen to you. No, you were the kind soul that saved him and gave him a place to belong. Truly belong
Never had he felt such a sense of comfort around someone so lazy and chill. The fact that you were average but powerful in your right that you humble yourself to blend in with others. To live your afterlife as you please and like without a care in the world. So long as your interest was sated
He just couldn’t help but want to be yours. You deserve it, after all
But now. Now he had to provide his attention and care to some princess’ dream! What joke is this?!
Were you sending him away because he wasn’t strong enough? You limited his powers to see if he could still be as strong as before. Was that the reason? What other demon held your attention? As far as he knew. You have no interest in forming connections. He was the first one you actually cared for and hosted your home for! You don’t even own other souls and you’re strong!
He was your only one. Only!
In front of the hotel, he knocked rhythmically, waiting patiently for the door to be opened and for him to introduce himself. He’ll show you. “Hel—” The door closed shut in his face before it opened again, “-lo!”
His ears twitched as he heard the ruckus inside. These souls don’t deserve your time and attention spent on them, he’ll deal with the problem like always and return to your side. He’ll show you just how powerful and cruel he is and can be
The door opened again and he introduced himself with his plan in mind. “Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, princess. Quite a pleasure!”
Note: I really really didn't mean to do this so long... I could have put it into 2 parts, but I was too lazy to. There was actually some more I wanna add, but then it will be a literal essay. Anyways~ How you like this one?
Circe Y.
Other Works: MASTERLIST
Taglist:
@aconfusedwonderland
@crowleysthings
@donustellaron
#Circe's Nighty Writings#Circe's requested writings#alastor imagine#alastor x reader#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor#hazbin hotel oneshots#yandere alastor#yandere alastor x reader#yandere hazbin hotel#alastor fanfiction#hazbin hotel imagines#Unwanted Soul
946 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ouroboros
this fic is one I wrote a long while ago as a lil sequel to @hypnoswrites's fic Vengeance Tastes Bitter and she gave permission for me to post :D
please be aware of the tags if you choose to check out either of these fics
Uvogin x female!reader
Warnings: kidnapping, captivity, mentions of death, mentions of murder, past noncon, mentions of suicide, threats of violence, abusive relationships, attempted murder, dubcon, smut, Uvogin being a bastard
Word Count: 2.9k
The sounds of a door abruptly opening and then slamming shut were what announced his arrival. And despite being used to the sound of his return, you still tensed up when you heard him approaching as you determined how long it would take for him to find you within the house.
Unsurprisingly, it wasn't very long.
Uvogin's gaze was on you the second he entered the kitchen, looking you over as you stood by the counter. You heard him hum to himself before he said anything to you, sounding slightly dissatisfied. Perhaps he was looking over the marks he'd left on your skin and was unhappy when he saw that they were fading.
Or perhaps it was because that you had yet to acknowledge him, instead keeping yourself turned away and looking out through the window at the scenery outside. The nice weather outside was a better thing to focus your energy on, though you wouldn't be able to ignore him for too much longer. He wouldn't allow that.
“Don't you have somethin' to say to me?” Uvogin asked you.
“…. I don't know what you want me to say,” you replied.
“What, you don't know that it's common courtesy to greet someone when they've returned home? Who raised you?”
That last comment stung.
“This isn't your home. It's not mine, either. Why the hell should I bother with that?” you asked bitterly.
“Because I want you to.”
He was enjoying this. You could hear it in his voice. And you already knew he had that usual victorious smirk on his face, pleased with himself that he had managed to make you snap at him.
Even though he liked the ways you would push back, he would expect you to comply at some point, and while you hated needing to bend to his will, things were better if you did that much.
Or at the very least, they were less violent.
Your shoulder's sagged as you sighed and then said, “welcome back.”
You then glanced over your shoulder to look at him.
He was smirking. As expected. Still getting a kick out of making you submit to him.
It had been several months since that fateful, awful day where you had convinced yourself that you could kill him and take revenge for your family. The day where he had soundly beaten you without even trying, and instead of taking your life for bothering him with the weak attempt, he had amused himself by humiliating you. Starting with pissing on you after preventing you from taking your own life and ending with him raping you repeatedly over a period of several hours.
He kept you at the camp he had set up for a few weeks after in the hopes that people would come looking for you so he could torment you even more by killing your would-be rescuers in front of you. But no one ever came, much to his disappointment and your relief, though it was depressing that no one seemed to have noticed that you were gone.
After that Uvogin traveled from place to place, moving from continent to continent while living a rather nomadic lifestyle. And he dragged you along with him, as you were there to be his greatest source of entertainment.
It was an existence that you despised. And he knew you felt as such.
He seemed to revel in that fact.
Uvogin tended to keep to less populated areas when it came to his camps. He seemed to genuinely enjoy surviving in the outdoors, so it was surprising when he had broken into the house you were currently in and announced that the two of you would be staying there. You could only assume that he wanted a change of pace.
You didn't complain, as it was nice to be able to sleep in a bed again, even if you did need to share with him. And Uvogin had seemed to have gotten that for you without killing someone for it, which helped in keeping you from feeling too guilty about staying in a stranger's house.
All you hoped for was that the actual owner of the house wouldn't come back while the two of you were still there. You knew what the outcome would be if that were to happen, and you would hate yourself even more if you were forced to stand to the side while someone died for no reason.
“Was that so hard?” Uvogin asked you, the stupid smirk still on his face. He was still trying to goad you into getting upset with him.
Instead you just sighed and turned away, looking back outside. The house he had found was still more on the outskirts of society, and not far from the kitchen window sat a mountain with a hiking trail where you regularly saw people walking through.
You had enough common sense to know that you couldn't go to anyone for help. Uvogin would just kill them.
And when he began to leave you alone in the house, he had warned against attempts to take your own life, telling you that if he did come back and find you dead, he'd go out and slaughter a hundred people. Even if you managed to escape him in death, he would go out of his way to make sure that someone paid the price, and he didn't care who it was.
A hundred people was a lot and it felt far too over the top when you heard it, but you didn't question him on how dedicated he was to that plan: you could absolutely see him carrying that out. And despite how tantalizing the knife block over to your right managed to be that promised you an easy way out, you kept yourself from going that far. No matter what, you couldn't give him any excuses to kill even more people.
The only way you could see yourself escaping him was if he finally got tired of you and killed you like you'd wanted for so long now.
It was an odd thing to wish that you would be so boring that he would kill you for it.
And unfortunately it seemed to be something that was easier said than done.
“What, nothing to say to that?”
When you didn't respond, you heard him hum to himself once again. Then he approached you, his footsteps sounding against the tile of the kitchen floor, and they stopped when he stood behind you, leaving very little space between the two of you.
Even without his nen, his presence was overwhelming. In part because of just how he towered over you and effortlessly made you feel smaller than you actually were. And Uvogin was clearly using that to his full advantage at the moment as he placed both of his hands on the edge of the counter, his arms on either side of your body as he kept you stuck in that spot. Any attempt to duck under his arms would just end with him holding onto you, so you stayed put. Even though him being in such close proximity wasn't ideal, at least he was keeping his hands to himself, if just for the moment.
Uvogin hummed to himself a third time.
“You've been quieter,” he said.
“Have I?”
“Yeah,” he answered flatly, “what's that about?”
“Why does it matter?” you asked.
“Because it makes you seem like you're up to something.”
“I'm not,” you said, then you added “I guess I'm just accepting my situation.”
He snorted at that.
“Accepting it, huh? Doesn't seem that way to me.”
“Okay,” you said, shrugging.
Uvogin didn't seem to buy your indifference.
“If you were really okay with this, I don't think you would've snapped at me earlier,” he said.
That time you didn't answer.
His gaze was heavy on you, and you swore you could hear the cogs in his mind turning as he tried to figure what would be the best way to deal with you. It'd be very easy for him to just hurt you, something he'd done many times before. What was stopping him from going that far right now was a mystery to you.
“It still seems like you're up to something,” he finally said.
“I'm not,” you answered.
But you couldn't help but add something else to that.
“Why does this even matter to you? Most of the time you're only interested in fucking me.”
He sounded pleased with himself when he answered with a “yeah.”
“But I've come to like our conversations,” he added.
That makes one of us
Something like that probably would've been your response only a few months ago. When you had just a bit more fight in you and hoped that if you yelled and insulted him enough, he'd kill you.
But that sort of reaction was the thing he was looking for, and your goal was to disappoint him. Something that you were failing at in the moment, but you could still try.
He was quiet again, and this time you heard his fingers tapping against the surface of the counter.
It made things feel a bit more dangerous, for some reason.
After a few moments of that, he spoke again.
“What would their reaction be if they were still alive?” he asked.
You knew who he was talking about even without him saying it specifically: the dead members of your family, who he likely didn't even remember murdering or even why he had killed them. The whole reason this awful chapter in your life had started.
The question was a trap. You knew that much.
“If they were still alive we wouldn't be here,” you answered shortly.
“Hm. I guess.”
He leaned down closer and you felt his breath tickling your ear. Despite your attempts to keep yourself steady, you couldn't keep yourself from shuddering at the feeling.
You knew that he noticed because he chuckled at you.
“If your family knew what would happen after they died,” he asked, “if they knew that one day you'd fuck up your attempt at revenge so massively that it would end with you becoming my slave, how sad do you think they'd be?”
You didn't answer.
The knife block was still in view from the corner of your eye.
“What would they be thinking if they saw you all those times you came while my cock was buried inside of you?” he whispered, “knowing that their last surviving member was the one who was getting off with help from the guy who killed them? How disgusted would they be? If they saw just how much of a slut-”
You grabbed a knife and tried to stab him in the face.
Uvogin caught your wrist, the blade of the knife mere inches away from his eye.
And he grinned as he tightened his grip around your wrist, forcing you to open your hand and drop the knife.
He won.
Again.
He'd been goading you again and you hadn't been able to help but fall right into his trap.
It went without saying that something bad was coming your way.
“That seems a bit extreme, doesn't it?” he asked you, glancing down at the knife where it lay on the floor.
“You're a piece of shit,” you hissed.
“I think we established that a while ago, babe,” he said.
Then he let you go and pulled away from you. Your hand immediately went to the aching area around your wrist, and when you looked back up at him, he was standing at full height with his hands on his hips and an expectant look in his eye.
You knew what he wanted. You'd seen that look often enough to know what it meant.
But for some reason, you decided to play dumb.
“What?” you asked.
“What, you want me to spell it out for you?” he asked back, “on your knees.”
“No.”
It would still happen. You knew that, but you didn't want to submit completely. It went against your strategy of being as boring as possible, but after trying to take out his eye with a knife, you figured there was no point in trying to keep up with that. Not for today, at least.
Instead of slapping you around before forcing you to your knees, Uvogin hummed to himself. Then his eyes went to the window behind you, as though he caught sight of something, and he smirked to himself.
That was what made you nervous. And your nervousness turned to dread after he motioned for you to look out as well and you saw what he had spotted.
Two people along the hiking trail.
Despite the distance between you and them, you got the sense that they were a couple. Something in the way they walked together, or when one of them looked back to the other. Just two people out on a hiking date.
Two completely innocent people who didn't deserve death.
The cracking of Uvogin's knuckles had you spinning back around, and he gave you a toothy grin as he said “I guess if you don't want to…”
He then turned as though he was going to leave the kitchen.
Placing a hand on his arm, you stopped him.
Like he knew you would.
When he turned back to you with that smirk still on his face, you did as he wanted and went down to your knees. It felt uncomfortable against the tile of the kitchen, but you told yourself that it could be worse. At least you weren't out in the open with stones digging into your skin while your leg was broken.
Pulling down the hem of his shorts revealed that he was already semi-hard. You frowned as you took his length in hand and began to stroke it. It wasn't long before he was fully erect, and you moved in closer to place a kiss on the tip.
“You can do better than that.”
There was a familiar feeling of a hand at the back of your head, and then you were being pushed in closer, the tip of his cock smearing precum over your lips before you forced your mouth open so he could shove the head inside.
“That's more like it,” he said, although it seemed he was saying that more to himself.
You fell into a rhythm that you knew well by now; your tongue glided over cock while you stroked whatever didn't fit. All the while he stared down at you with a triumphant look on his face.
He'd get bored of you eventually. That was what you told yourself. A man like him would one day get tired of you, when you would no longer give him any new or interesting reactions. And getting rid of you would be as simple as crushing your head beneath his foot.
Not today. You'd messed that up royally.
But eventually….. Eventually you'd get out of this hell.
Uvogin's grip on your hair got tighter and he pushed his cock into your mouth as far as he was able when he finally came. He kept you there for a while, ignoring the way you slapped his thighs to try and tell him that you needed air.
With a content sigh he finally let you go, allowing you to fall backwards onto the tile of the kitchen while you sputtered, coughing up remnants of his release. One may have thought you would've been used to something like that by now, but it always managed to feel like too much.
You were expecting more taunts from him, more goading insults to upset you further so you felt even more helpless when he would force himself upon you once again.
Yet nothing like that ever came.
And when you looked back up at him, it seemed as though he was thinking about something.
He snapped out of it when you made eye contact, however, and he grinned at you once more.
“You wanna stay here or go to the bedroom?” he asked.
“…. Bedroom.”
No sooner had you said that, he had bent down and scooped you up, throwing you up onto his shoulder just as he had done on that first day, and he began to march you over to the bedroom.
What happened next was expected: he threw you down onto the bed, tore your clothes off and roughly fingered you for a few moments before slamming his length into you. It hurt and you hated it, but you did your best to take it.
His mouth ended up on your neck faster than you were expecting, however, sucking on your skin to place new marks over the older, fading ones.
His lips were also faster in catching yours for a kiss, and when he pulled away, he saw the look of confusion on your face.
“What, you still gonna be a bitch about that?” he asked.
“…. Do what you want,” you answered, officially giving up.
“I intend to.”
Uvogin went back to marking up your neck, and in between leaving those marks, you heard him mutter “keeping you was the best decision I ever made.”
…. That was a little worrying, but your focus went back to the way he thrust into you.
One day this would end. He'd lose interest in you and then it would be over. He was just lying to try and upset you further.
….. Right?
#reader insert#yandere x reader#yandere uvogin#uvo x reader#uvogin x reader#hxh uvogin#yandere hunter x hunter#yandere#yandere hxh#hxh x reader
281 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Price of Pride (22/?)
[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]
[ warnings: trauma, pregnancy-related conditions, some type of suicide attempt, dark visions, the angst, nightmares ]
[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
"Rȳbās." Her father said. "Repeat."
She saw his face clearly – his narrow eyes, his short white hair combed back, his expression full of boredom and fatigue, which, however, she was not the reason for.
"Ribās." She mumbled, wiggling her short legs as she sat on his lap, looking at the large book in which were written a multitude of words in a language she had never seen before.
Her father sighed.
"No." He said, readjusting her on his lap, feeling her begin to slide downwards. "Rȳbās. Again."
"Ribās." She repeated after him, confident that this time she had said the word correctly.
"Who gave him permission to be with her? To cross the threshold of my fortress without my permission?" She heard her mother's enraged voice behind the wall.
Her father sighed heavily, closed the book and threw it carelessly on the table. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up, placing her on the floor; she caught his hand, refusing to let him go.
"Ribās. Ribās. Ribās." She repeated, following him, hoping it would stop him.
"Stay in the chamber." He commanded, so she let him go with eyes full of tears and turned back, bursting into sobs.
He had only just arrived, and was about to disappear again.
She hoped he would return and waited for him, lying covered in thick furs in her bed, however, eventually her eyes began to grow heavy and she fell into a deep slumber.
She thought she felt in her sleep as someone touched her head, someone's lips placed a warm kiss on her forehead, the smell of her father filled her lungs.
When she found out the next day that he had returned to Dragonstone, she burst out crying.
"You should be grateful to me, not wailing. I'm tired of your perpetual weeping. Perhaps you would rather he took you with him? Targaryens have many strange customs. Fathers lie in bed with their daughters, for example." Said her mother, busy eating the roast of a deer she herself had hunted the day before.
She closed her mouth at her words, quivering all over, staring blankly into her plate.
She was awakened by an unpleasant feeling – a spasm in her stomach and a sensation as if she were suffocating. She raised herself up on the sheets in the darkness, unconsciously reaching for the dish standing next to the bed. She only had time to lean over it when she vomited, panting loudly and coughing.
She shuddered all over, terrified, when she felt movement behind her, someone's hand touching her shoulder.
"Hāedar. Again?"
In response, she vomited again, louder this time: her stomach squeezed tightly, and she closed her eyelids, trying to survive it.
The silhouette of her father beneath the water, his white hair, his hand stretched towards her, her arrow thrust into his neck, his heavy armour pulling him down – when she grasped him, she had the impression that something had flashed across his face.
A mixture of regret, shame, pleading, as if he wanted to convey to her in that moment everything he hadn't told her over the years. Her heart squeezed at the thought that she saw tenderness in that gaze: that he recognised her as his child, and perhaps he always had.
Perhaps she had never truly understood why he had fled then until now.
And then he let her go.
She burst out crying and shook her head, leaning forward, breathing heavily through her mouth, overwhelmed by this vision, this memory, by the fact that she had been mistaken.
She didn't see her husband's death in her dreams, but her father's.
She felt his face pressed into her neck, his warm, moist lips placing soft, light kisses on her skin to comfort her, his broad hand stroking her arm.
"I'm here. I'm here." He repeated.
She wanted him to do something that would make her shout at him, take it out on him, hate him: she wanted him to say that it meant nothing, that she was being dramatic, that it was a simple, ordinary, feminine weakness that she needed to stand up to. This was what she had expected from him: this was how he always reacted to his own failings, being a harsh and unfair judge in his own case.
He, however, was quiet and calm, full of an understanding from which she felt a discomfort in her stomach.
She was sure that it was a mask and that it would eventually break: that her many days of silence and hysteria would eventually drive him mad, that, tired of her constant despair and the fact that she did not even look at him when he spoke to her, would make him finally descend into the dungeons and find relief in the arms of the beautiful Witch of Harrenhal.
Some part of her wanted him to do it: she wanted him to give her a reason to run far away from him, to abandon him and everything that came with him.
"The Maester has arrived in the fortress. I have ordered him to examine you tomorrow. It worries me that this keeps happening every night." He whispered, snuggling into her back at last, embracing her with his arms around her waist.
His hands did not reach her breasts – he did not try to take her or kiss her on the lips. He held her close and stroked her but did nothing more, as if he knew she would push him away.
She sighed and closed her eyes, knowing what that meant.
That he would find out.
She did not, however, have the strength to object.
"Your wife is expecting your child, Your Grace." Said Maester the next day after he had examined her body closely.
She saw her cousin twitch, his face, previously passive and calm, tense in shock, his eye open wide. He looked at her after a moment, in his gaze the question she had long known she would hear from his lips.
"Leave us." He said.
Her heart pounded like mad in terror as the Maester left the chamber – she played with the soft fur that covered her body clad only in her nightgown, wondering why she was afraid.
She had felt nothing but pain for days, so this sudden new emotion was shocking to her.
He's going to kill me, she thought.
"How long have you known?" He asked.
The tone of his voice was not aggressive, but she heard a hint of irritation in it.
She swallowed hard, feeling that she was having trouble concentrating, finding the right words.
How long had she known?
"The witch told me I was carrying your son, but I didn't confirm it." She muttered.
"But you had a premonition, didn't you?" He continued, a note of pain and regret in his voice.
She merely nodded her head.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you wouldn't take me with you."
Her husband let out a loud breath and turned away, pacing around the room as if trying to calm himself, overcome by many extreme emotions at once.
"How could you hide this from me?"
"You didn't ask."
He turned abruptly towards her and stopped, his lips pressed into a thin line with rage.
"It's my fault, then?" He hissed, clearly losing his temper.
She swallowed hard, lowering her gaze to her hands.
"That's not what I said. It's just that if you had asked me, I wouldn't have lied to you. But then you'd be dead and I'd be left fatherless and husbandless." She said dispassionately.
Her cousin looked out of the window – she could see out of the corner of her eye that his chest was rising and falling in heavy breaths.
"You made a fool of me." He said.
She did not answer him.
If he thought so, that was his concern.
She didn't have the strength to think about it.
She shuddered when he suddenly moved from his place and simply left, closing the door behind him with a loud slam of old wood.
She swallowed silently as she felt the heavy tears one by one begin to run down her cheeks, her breath stuck in her throat.
She knew it would happen sooner or later, and she was relieved to finally have it behind her. A crack, a rift between them, something that made him pull away from her – she figured he'd been looking for an excuse for this for a long time, and now he'd found the perfect one.
She lay back on the bedding and hugged her face to the pillow, staying in that position until she fell asleep from exhaustion.
When she opened her eyes, there was darkness all around her – she recognised in the shapes she saw before her her chamber in Harrenhal. Her bed was cold – a strange feeling of disappointment ran down her spine when she turned behind herself and saw that he was not lying next to her.
That he hadn't forgiven her.
Maybe he was with her now, she thought.
She felt an unpleasant discomfort in her stomach, from which she felt the urge to vomit again – she restrained herself and stood up, heading barefoot towards the door.
The stone Harrenhal was cold and dark – she was surprised that there were no torches burning in the corridors and no guards all around.
In fact, it seemed to her that the fortress was deserted.
She blinked, intrigued, noticing the warm light of the fire in the distance, coming from behind the door of her husband's chamber – some strange kind of relief spread through her heart at the thought that he had not abandoned her. Her quiet footsteps echoing around her, the dripping of water in the distance and the sound of the wind accompanied her on this short journey, but the closer she got to the room, the louder other sounds came from it.
His panting.
She would recognise it was him anywhere – she had heard it too many times – that distinctive heavy way of breathing, interrupted by grunts and low groans of pleasure. As she pushed gently on the door, just enough to see anything, she saw his body bare from the waist down, his nails digging into Alys' buttocks so hard they created bruises.
His thrusts were aggressive, brutal, deep, fast, devoid of tenderness or even desire.
Her green eyes found her in the darkness, the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile, from which she felt that sickening feeling in her stomach again.
She stepped back and vomited – one time, then another – her hand found the wall to prop herself up, to escape, to get out, to disappear, whatever that meant.
She hated him.
She hated her.
She wished she had stayed with her father.
She was unable to find her way back to her chamber – instead, narrow, dark corridors led her outside, to a godswood, surrounded by a ruined stone wall. A red, contorted, tear-streaked face looked straight at her, as if it understood her. Her gaze fled to the side – to the space between the stone bricks which was empty, looking like a gateway to a black abyss.
She moved in that direction, thinking that this was what she wanted.
She knew he would betray her.
She knew it from the very beginning, and yet she believed him anyway.
After all, she had begged him not to take her as his wife only to humiliate her later.
But his pride, as always, was more important.
Perhaps their bastard child will rule Harrenhal, but my child will not become his tool, she thought, climbing higher on the remains of the wall that once stood there – looking down into nothingness, she felt terror – her heart pounded like mad, doubt flashed through her mind.
I don't want to die.
Why are they forcing me to do this?
My husband, my father, my mother.
Wasn't I worth being loved truly?
Didn't I deserve to be chosen by someone?
"Hāedar! Come back here!" She heard a voice behind her and blinked – when she looked around, she saw that she was not standing in a godswood, but on what must once have been a tower, standing at the very edge of it. The height from which she was looking down frightened and petrified her, her body began to tremble all over – there was nothing around her that she could grasp.
"Hāedar, turn to me and give me your hand." She heard his voice behind her again, this time pleading and breaking, as if he realised what was about to happen.
"I saw you. You and her." She muttered.
She heard his silence, his heavy breath full of consternation.
"What?" He asked.
"If I had known you would betray me so quickly, I would never have married you." She howled, feeling tear after tear begin to run down her face.
The wind around her was searing her body to the core, her legs scarred from the sharp stones.
Why hadn't she felt this before?
"You enraged me and I set off for a ride on Vhagar's back to cool off. Sheepstealer wailed from afar, so I returned." He explained, and she swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat run down her back as she heard a loud screech in the distance, and then her dragon flew over her head, clearly terrified of what she was about to do.
How could she not have heard him before?
The chaos in her head made her involuntarily turn and look at him over her shoulder, wanting to compare what she saw with his silhouette, his face, his expression, anything that would betray him.
He had his hands raised at the level of his chest, his right arm extending more towards her than his left, as if he wanted to grab her but was afraid to make a move – his healthy eye was open wide in terror, the other was covered by a black eye patch, on his body a long leather riding coat and gloves.
How was he able to change so quickly?
She felt her breath become laboured – she shook her head, taking an involuntary step backwards, towards the precipice.
"You are deceiving me. I know what I saw." She mouthed, and he drew in deep breath as she wobbled and squealed, struggling to catch her balance – he grabbed her by her nightgown and pulled her to him hard, so that she hit his chest with all his strength.
She wanted to push him away, but he wouldn't let her.
And then she felt it.
He didn't smell of intimacy, spend and feminine moisture.
He smelled of dragon and sweat.
He fell to his knees and she fell with him – his arms embraced her tightly, pressing her into his body, his face sinking into her hair.
"– gods – oh, good gods –" He wailed in trembling voice.
It was the first time she had seen him in such a state – he curled up like a small child, and she involuntarily embraced him.
"– I didn't betray you – ever – it's this place – these people – they are cursed – I can feel it in my veins –" He choked out with difficulty, breathing hard, shaking all over as she did.
She closed her eyes, feeling a strange kind of relief.
He wasn't here.
"So who did I see?" She whispered.
"I don't know."
Her husband wanted her to show him the way she had reached this place, but everything looked different. She couldn't recognise a single corner – the corridors were no longer cramped and dark, but spacious, full of lit, bright torches.
How could she have not noticed them?
She swallowed hard when she finally spotted the door she had opened then – it seemed to her that there were only a few steps from it to her chamber.
"We are in the other part of the keep. You may have seen a guard with some servant girl. It happens, hāedar. You are in mourning, in addition you are carrying a child inside you. You are overtired." He said, stroking her back.
For some reason, his calm voice, his understanding, the fact that he wasn't mocking her, comforted her.
She nodded, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
"I want to sleep in your chamber tonight."
Indeed, when they arrived, she realised that their quarters were right next to each other and she didn't have to travel such a long distance from one door to the other – when she stepped inside, she also remembered that the furniture of his chamber was quite different from what she had seen.
It was as if someone had made her lose focus for a moment, hoping to let that cruel dream lead her.
"That witch. She said that if I wasn't here, you would have taken her the very first night. That you would have begotten a bastard child." She said dispassionately, walking around his room, running her fingers over the top of the table.
Her husband snorted.
"Of course. All that's left for bastards is to give birth to other bastards and hope that the rich father shares his golden coins with them." He grunted, tossing wood into the hearth, thoughtful.
"It must be tempting. The fact that every woman wants your child inside her, and you can have her." She stated.
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and shook his head, as if he didn't believe what he was hearing.
"And what of it? Aegon begat bastards with half of the whores of King's Landing. If he had been by his wife's side instead of drinking when Daemon's men came to kill his child, perhaps Jaehaerys would still be alive. He blamed me in front of everyone, as if I was his father, because he couldn't look at his own reflection." He said with a disgust that sent a shiver along her spine.
"If you had married Floris. Would you have remained faithful to her?" She asked calmly, without irony or mockery.
Her cousin sighed, still crouching in front of the fire, lowering his gaze to his fingers.
"I would do everything in my power to keep her and my children safe."
"But you would have had lovers." She concluded.
She saw him shrug his shoulders.
"And you? If they forced you to marry some young lord. Would you have had lovers? Would you refuse me?" He asked with a kind of resentment from which she felt a sting in her heart.
She lowered her gaze, realising she didn't know the answer to that question.
"I wouldn't want to humiliate him. I guess I would try to stay away from you to avoid tempting fate." She whispered.
Her husband grinned.
"Big words. My mother used those too for many years." He hummed with mockery. "Either we want someone or we don't. I never wanted Floris. But I began to desire you very quickly."
"You didn't know what would happen to me then." She mumbled.
She heard with surprise that he laughed at her words.
"And what has happened to you, wife? You weep, you despair, you are silent? You have lost your father. Shall I require you to smile, to speak to me, though I myself, after I returned from Storm's End, sat locked in my chamber for weeks? I didn't want to see anyone, hear anyone. My grandfather showered me with advice I didn't ask him for. He called me a fool, as if he thought I didn't understand what I had done, how much I had destroyed. I wanted revenge on Luke, I wanted him to finally pay me for all of his doings, but did I want to kill him? I've been asking myself that question ever since. It occurs to me that when I realised I didn't, Vhagar's maw crushed him and his dragon. She felt my hatred, my bitterness, and devoured him against my orders, as if she knew I was lying." He said, staring into the flames, immersed in his thoughts and memories.
She stared at him in disbelief, silent, surprised that he had brought up the subject of his own free will – they had never discussed it, and she dared not ask, afraid of how he would react to it.
She didn't care if he wanted to kill him or not.
Time could not be turned back.
Nevertheless, the fact that he was using his experience to understand her made her feel a familiar warmth in her heart for the first time in days.
When he looked at her she swallowed quietly, as if caught off guard.
"Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you." He whispered.
She pressed her lips together, feeling tears under her eyes for some reason – they were not tears of sadness and grief, however, as they had been in recent days, but of emotion, of a sense of understanding, of knowing that he really intended to comfort her.
She wasn't ready to return to their intimacy, to this sudden act that was consuming her whole – something about the thought of it frightened her, the feeling that she would burst into sobs or change her mind in the process, leaving him with nothing but frustration.
"I'd like to lay my head on your thighs. I wish you would embrace me and stroke my hair." She mumbled in shame, for some reason feeling that what she said was pitiful.
However, she saw in his gaze that he understood her and that something in that thought pained him.
Was this what he was looking for in a brothel?
Was this what he needed from that woman?
He stood up slowly, pulling off his gloves and coat, placing them on the table top. He approached her, extending his hand to her – she took hold of it and allowed him to guide her towards his bed.
He sat down on it in a half-lying position, pulling his boots off his feet first. He unfastened his tunic and slipped it off his shoulders, laying it over his thighs so as to create something soft for her to lay her head on.
"Come here." He hummed.
She climbed obediently onto the bed and lay with her back to him, so that her spine snuggled into his lower abdomen and her cheek laid against the smooth leather material. He spread his legs so that her whole body fit between them – in some subconscious reflex she pulled her knees up to her chin, feeling safer in this position. She closed her eyes as his broad, warm hand combed through her hair in a gentle motion, repeating the movement again and again.
"Sleep. I'm by your side." He whispered, his other hand covering her with warm fur. She felt him lean in, his full, moist lips placing a kiss on her temple, his arm embracing her entire figure, locking her in a secure grasp.
All she could feel was his closeness, his calm breath on her face, his fingers playing with her dark curls, his gentle lips pressing against the skin of her face again and again.
"You are my only friend." She whispered involuntarily – when she heard herself say those words she felt a single, lonely tear run down her cheek.
He was the only one she could speak to honestly.
Only he understood her.
Only he fought for her.
Only he believed in her.
Only he cared for her.
And although she loved him as a husband, a brother, a lover, he, another man made of flesh and blood, exactly like her, was the one she loved the most.
She was at the worst, most difficult time of her life, and he was there for her, patient and tender, full of an understanding she had not expected from him.
The cruel, cold man she had seen for the first time that day, locked in the dungeon, had shown himself ready for such deeds, such words, such sacrifices.
She felt his arm press her tighter against his body, his face sinking into her neck.
"And you are mine."
#aemond targaryen#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#hotd aemond#aemond one eye#prince aemond#aemond kinslayer#prince aemond targaryen#house of the dragon aemond#aemond angst#aemond x oc#aemond x female#aemond x fem!oc#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character#canon aemond#hotd fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fic#hotd angst#aemond the kinslayer#aemond targaryen angst#house of the dragon#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#hotd smut#dark aemond#dark aemond targaryen#dark aemond angst#dark aemond smut
240 notes
·
View notes
Text
lost in translation ft. eunhyuk x gn!reader 4.4k words
genre: angst comfort, ‘enemies’ to possibly lovers warnings: deaths, injuries, blood, mentions of kissing and also suicide (?), smoking, cursing, canon divergence idr half of s1, guns, slightly suggestive at the end author’s note: this was requested! i kinda strayed off the original request sorry TT it got a bit angstier than it should’ve but oh well! have this i missed him
summary: The development of your feelings for Lee Eunhyuk in the middle of an apocalypse, and struggles of leadership.
Green Home Apartment is not a place you would ever allow to crumble.
From the very first hours of the outbreak, people saw a leading figure in you. A seemingly natural instinct to guide people and keep them as safe as possible. Someone strict, just firm enough to keep panicking residents in line and gentle enough to reassure other equally terrified people.
The perfect leader, really. It wasn’t exactly the role you would have wanted had you imagined yourself in this situation prior, but you felt you didn’t really have a say in the matter. You were just a college student, and within a few hours, at least ten people in your apartment building had voiced out their agreement on you being the perfect captain for a broken and sinking ship.
So when this guy with a blue flannel gave off the same impression as you apparently did— enough to convince people he would be a good leader, too— you were mildly relieved. Part of you felt like it was a good thing someone else would take the reins for this whole thing. It was too much pressure for you. But another part didn’t feel at ease. After all, you didn’t know this guy. People trusted him for a reason— He did seem mature, headstrong, and determined. Good with instructions and quick-witted. But you didn’t know if that would be enough to let the people here, or you, at least, survive this.
If you were to survive this in a group, you would need to have some kind of authority when it came to making decisions. Surviving alone was fine, but being stuck with so many people meant certain chaos, attempts at democracy leading to stupid decisions, and your life being stacked between at least twenty others with barely a word to say when they would all eventually be led to sure death. You’d damn near experienced it already, and that was more than enough for you.
So you didn’t step away when Lee Eunhyuk, as you eventually learned his name to be, took the place of a leader. And thankfully, it seemed the residents hadn’t expected you to. So weeks ago, you and Eunhyuk were appointed as leaders of Green Home during the monster apocalypse.
“Going there would be suicide.”
“So you suggest we stay here and wait to die? Do you genuinely think the people in the next room over will be fine with that?”
Leaders who get along perfectly.
“I suggest you use your head a little. There’s resources in much more accessible spaces than this. The store at the side, for example?”
“I’m not sending anyone there.” Eunhyuk states blankly, in his usual emotionless fashion. You narrow your eyes and bite back a scoff.
“Right, I almost forgot it’s about sending out people with you. You’re a coward, you know that?” you say, and he glances at you from the side.
“And you’re just as selfish.” he says, turning to face you properly, “Let’s not pretend you’re any better than I am because you act courageous. You’re terrified.”
“And you’re mistaken. Why don’t you go out there and get to the storage room yourself?”
Eunhyuk’s tongue presses into his cheek and his fingers tightens into a fist. He presses his hand to the table and tilts his head a little, nodding slightly. “We both know without a leading figure this group is done for.” he says, tone much calmer than you’d anticipated. The restraint he has over his anger only serves as fuel to your own. You bite the flesh of your lip.
“Am I not a leading figure?”
“You are, but are you a good one?” he asks. There. There it is, the hint of anger. That cutting edge to his tone. It’s nearly imperceptible but it makes you want to bring out all of it.
“Do you believe I’m not?”
You step closer. He looks down to your feet then back up to meet your gaze. “You’re dodging the question.”
“It’s a weird question to ask.”
You’re close enough to punch him, now, if need be. You won’t. But it’s a good thing to note.
“I don’t think it is, all things considered.”
“Uh,” a meek voice comes from behind you. You turn towards the door to see a man from the group stand with a bottle in hand, moving around uncomfortably, “The others are arguing about rations… You should come.”
You take this as the perfect opportunity to clear your head and not to let your irritation get the better of you. You hum absentmindedly and walk past him to get to the store where you expect everyone to be, leaving the man and a scowling Eunhyuk behind.
“Is- Is something wr—”
“Everything’s fine.”
Everything is wrong.
It’s been less than a day since your argument with Eunhyuk when a new problem enters your life. A guy that looks about your age, that you remember walking past when he moved in, who fell from nine floors high in the stairway. He’s lying on the floor with blood all over and around him. Everyone is scrambling to take a look and Seo Yikyung has to be the one to hold them back, because you and Eunhyuk are too busy checking the supposedly dead man’s pulse for the third time.
“He’s breathing.” you sigh, pulling away your trembling hand from his face again. This is insanity.
“It’s impossible…”
“Get a grip.” you shove Eunhyuk’s shoulder, “Impossible isn’t in our vocabulary right now. Weird as this may be, we can’t just leave him here, so start thinking or I’ll make the decisions.”
He’s shaken out of his thoughts, alright, but now he seems another kind of confused that you can’t bring yourself to try deciphering. He calls your name but you don’t respond.
You don’t exactly look down, but you start to kneel to reach towards the body on the floor. You need to carry him somewhere else, where no one will see how bad it is. There’s kids here and the adults aren’t reliable. You can’t let this cause more trouble.
Your gaze is looking anywhere else but at the corpse— Person. Alive. You almost grab him when Eunhyuk stops you with a hand on your shoulder, effectively causing you to flinch.
“It’s fine. I’ll do it.”
He hoists the limp body up on his back with some effort and holds him tightly so he doesn’t fall. “Tell them to go elsewhere. It’ll only cause issues for them to see more than needed.” he tells you, nodding towards the hallway. The blood that gets on his clothes and the state of the one he carries unsettles you a little, but you nod and hurry outside.
“Go to the daycare.” you say, voice hoarse. Everyone’s chattering does nothing to help you calm down. You’re not sure if they didn’t hear you or if they simply don’t care. “I said go! Right now!” you exclaim, much louder.
The talking silences and everyone reluctantly heads to that place, though clearly still trying to get a glimpse of the situation. You breathe out sharply and stare down at the floor. Your reflection meets you halfway on the tiles, showing you just how little control you currently have on the emotions you usually hide so well. You’ve seen people get killed too many times since this all started but this is was one too many.
You can’t even tell if the stranger’s fall was accidental, if it was suicide, if… You can’t think.
Eunhyuk passes by you and you barely notice. Or rather, you force yourself not to notice.
So much blood.
The sun sets and rises again. Tension does as well.
“We can’t keep on using him.” you say upon stepping into the security office. Eunhyuk is leaning against the desk, eyes trained on the several CCTV screens when you come in, and he seems like he’s about to leave the moment you start talking. You close the door and he gives up. He seems to know there’s no point in trying to leave, now.
“Who?”
“Don’t play dumb. We both know you’re not.”
“High compliments coming from you.”
You sigh and step further into the room. “I’m not in the mood to argue, Lee Eunhyuk. Cha Hyunsu, he… He doesn’t deserve to be treated this way. You know it, too.”
Eunhyuk is silent. You see his thumb tapping against the desk rhythmically, like he’s thinking hard about something.
“Lee Eunhyuk.”
“I heard you.”
“Then say something!” you scream.
Eunhyuk turns to look at you. You take a breath. It’s unlike you to let your anger turn to yelling but you feel hopeless. Cha Hyunsu is just a boy your age trapped in circumstances he never asked for, and forced to do the worst part of the work around Green House. Eunhyuk never wanted to send anyone upstairs, yet he decided to send Hyunsu there. Because he’s a monster? Because he survived a several floors high fall? Because he was doomed to live in-between two kinds of evil, neither of which truly accepts him?
It just feels like it hits you harder today that this world will continue to be this cruel. And you two are not making it any better.
“This is the best way.” Eunhyuk says, unfazed. “The group needs to survive. You said it yourself. Cha Hyunsu’s the best bet we have at getting this result.”
“We saw him die, Eunhyuk.”
“He’s alive. You know that.”
“This is unfair.”
“The world is unfair.”
You look elsewhere, annoyed. Eunhyuk calls your name in the same tone he always does. “Your sympathy is useless.”
“What kind of leaders are we if rid of any compassion?”
“… The kind needed to survive.” he says quietly, gaze cast downwards. “Jisu asked for band-aids. Could you bring them to her for me?”
Anything’s a good enough distraction from whatever spiral you feel yourself falling into.
“Sure.”
Days pass. Your anger subsides.
“But didn’t you say it was okay to go there?”
“No, I didn’t.” Eunhyuk crosses his arms, “Who told you that?”
A name is mentioned in reply.
You sneeze.
“Aye, did you catch a cold?” Eunyu scoffs, laughing smoke at the face you seem to be making. “That’s bad. Catching a cold during an apocalypse? Seriously.”
You and the girl are sitting on the fire escape stairs, on the floor closest to the main hall. She has a habit of disappearing to go smoke, or whatever else she does, and you don’t want her getting killed. She didn’t seem to mind you coming to check up on her the first time, and now you have a habit of disappearing to hang out with her.
“I’m fine.” you click your tongue, “Anyways, you shouldn��t be smoking out there. If your brother was here he’d be pissed.”
“Who cares? Let’s not act like he ever shows it.”
You roll your eyes a little and chuckle. “Sure.” you hum, “Still. What’s the point in smoking? During an apocalypse, too? That’s bad.”
She flips you off and you return the gesture, earning a laugh in return. You don’t talk to many people in this place. Your age differs from nearly everyone. Eunyu’s a bit younger, so you’re mostly watching over her. Then there’s Hyunsu, but there’s a nearly visible wall between him and everyone. You can’t blame him for putting distance between you two especially. As far as he’s concerned, you’re also responsible for the errand-running he’s been told to do.
There’s Yikyung, but you’ve struggled to get close since you told her to shove off when she had Eunhyuk pinned to a wall. You’re not sure why you did that, even now. She’d be better company than him, maybe. And you understand her reasons.
Then there’s Eunhyuk.
“Serious talk, listen up.” Eunhyu huffs, “What relationship do you entertain with my brother?” she mimics a serious sounding voice that’s so unlike her. It makes you scoff in amusement.
“He’s a…” You trail off. What is he? A friend? An acquaintance? Whatever could be considered a coworker, at the moment? A fellow leader? “Uh, a person.”
Eunyu gives you this look that is so clearly judgemental that you consider jumping off the railing promptly.
“Yeah, no shit. Good to know he’s not turning.” she scoffs, “I know you hate him. Spit it out.”
“I don’t recall ever feeling that way.” you lie with an obviously fake smile. Eunyu threatens to throw her lighter at you. “He’s fine, alright? We just work together, I guess.”
“He likes you.”
“Hm?”
“He doesn’t hate you, I mean. You’re not stupid, so you noticed, right?” she says before bringing the cigarette to her lips again. You’re confused and it must show because she sighs in annoyance. “Clearly, I’d say the real leader is you out of you two. Aren’t most decisions yours?”
“They’re ours. Mostly his. Trust me, my opinion isn’t as valued as you might believe.”
Her expression suddenly sours and she curses under her breath. “And I think you’re wrong. Anyways, I’ll leave you with the jerk.” she coughs, pushing herself off of the stairs, “Bye.”
You hum curiously as you watch her leave before turning around. Lee Eunhyuk. Of course.
The first thing he does is shove your shoulder.
“What the hell?” you scoff, scrambling up to your feet before you can lose your balance. It’s such an unexpected move from him that you can’t help the words that slip past your lips. “What’s your deal?”
“Returning the gesture. What’s yours?”
“Huh?”
“The gate to the store alley. I said it should stay closed.” he says, “So why are three people on their way back from there telling me I allowed it?”
“Because I allowed it.” you say casually. “It had medicine, water, and some canned foods. Besides, we needed fresh air.”
He stays silent for at least half a minute before he steps closer to you. Close enough for your hands to touch if your arms were to move an inch. “It’s not safe. I said so enough, didn’t I?”
“Have you ever cared about safety?”
“I have—”
“About the people’s, about the half-monsters’s, about yours?”
Your name sounds tense when he says it.
“About mine?”
“Do you ever stop talking?” he grits his teeth. His eye twitches. You wouldn’t have noticed it had you been further away. No, you… you would have. You know his every feature and emotions too well by now. You would realize the most unnoticeable of changes from him. Any of them.
He’s angry.
There.
“Does that piss you off? That I talk so much?” you say, “Is it a problem because you never do? Does hearing someone so much get on your nerves? Should I leave the leading you? Are your decisions supreme? Am I too talkative? Is that it? Is that it?”
He kisses— He almost kisses you. He stops short of pressing his lips against yours, short of holding your collar and bringing it up to meet his chest, short of everything you only now realized would’ve been so good to have.
For fuck’s sake. “You’re holding back.”
“There’s no point in causing unnecessary fights.”
“You’re a coward.”
“You—”
You tilt your head, like you want him to finish his sentence. You do. He’s realized this much.
He takes a breath to calm down and steps back, much to your dismay.
“I know why you used to be so self-centered.”
“That’s…” you trail off, before laughing in disbelief. “What?”
“You almost got killed at the alley to the store, the one you just allowed to be opened. First day of the apocalypse. I remember it. You looked terrified. Then you put your survival above anyone else’s.” he says, “And yet now, you keep on trying to go. That’s something I don’t understand.”
You swallow, images of that monster nearly killing you with its claws, and dragging away a bloodied, dismembered corpse when it failed to find you. The feeling of someone pulling you back into the shadow so you wouldn’t get noticed, and the chaos that ensued in the main hall so quickly that you never got to see who it was.
… Wait?
“That was you.”
“It doesn’t matter who it was. You changed.” he cuts off any questions you might have, “You used to be selfish. People falsely believed you were a good leader just because you seemed strong. But you didn’t care about anyone’s lives except yours.”
“… So what? What changed?” you ask quietly, “Did you fall for it, too? Because I’m still the same, as far as I’m concerned.”
“You don’t get it.”
“I do—“
“The you I first talked to in the security room would’ve never went out of their way to make sure some high-schooler is doing fine. They wouldn’t have been this upset over a random half-monster running errands. You would have been unbothered. And that store you seem so obsessed with would’ve been emptied of the basics before anyone could get them. But it was full, wasn’t it? The store was untouched.”
You’re not sure what to say. Where is he going with this?
“Fine.” you settle with that. “Let’s say that, somehow, you’re right. Then should we talk about you? That you changed, too?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“You never talk this much. Why are you so obsessed with this?”
“… I just wanted you to know.” he says, but it sounds like he’s withholding another response. “It didn’t feel right for me not to tell you I knew about what happened after all this time. Also I need you to come back now. People are gonna crowd the store too much for it to be left without any rules.”
You look away. Decide. Look back at him. “Fine.”
Lives come and go. The obvious is ignored.
A lot of guns were pointed at a lot of people’s heads today. You’re unsure why the image of Eunhyuk stuck to the floor with a gun pointed to his forehead is stuck in your mind so much. It keeps rewinding— Reminding you that you were both helpless there, that you got lucky he even survived it all.
There’s so much blood everywhere.
Someone says your full name, with a tone much too casual to match what seemed to be politeness and with such ease that it can only be one person. He grabs your arms and tries to catch your gaze. “Are you okay?”
“Are you crazy?” you whisper, looking at him. He looks like a mess. “You almost got killed, Eunhyuk.”
“So did you. Don’t downplay it.” he argues. You expect his grip to loosen now that he’s seen you’re alright enough to talk but it only seems to tighten, “We have a few minutes to get it together before we have to go back to the usual. So be honest for once.”
Being honest…
You look at him, and your eyes are burning. “Fuck, Eunhyuk, I don’t know why I’m this scared.” you cough out, hands tensing at your sides.
He carries something gentler in his gaze, something you’re unfamiliar with. His hand drops to your wrist and he squeezes it. “Breathe.” he says, and you try, but it’s like you’re struggling to get the air in and out of your lungs. It’s burning, too. Why?… You’re panicking. That’s why. Your breaths come out short and that uneasiness who loves to get in the way of your thoughts is back. You can’t do anything, right now— you wouldn’t be able to get anyone to survive, let alone yourself.
Eunhyuk’s hand grabs your hastily and he brings it to his chest. “Slow down. Just breathe. That’s all that matters, right now.”
“Are you breathing?”
“I am. I need both of us to be. So listen to me.”
“Yeah.”
And just like a doctor would, he guides you to something calmer. Your gazes are locked the whole time. He insisted. Don’t look anywhere else, he said, just me. He helps you remember how to breathe again, helps you remember how to think, and helps you remember you have a lot to do immediately.
“We need to go.” you say, back to the closest thing to normal you could manage. “Hyunsu’s gone. Did anyone get shot? You should—”
“You should go grab the medkits. The ones in the nursery. Bring them here. I’ll take care of it.”
You don’t argue. “Okay.
Ah!” — But you nearly lose your footing. You hear Eunhyuk breathe out something that almost sounds like a laugh and turn around to glare.
“You’ll be lightheaded for a bit. Be careful.”
“Oh, yeah, okay.” you scoff. You hear Eunyu yell something along the lines of ‘It’ll be fine, so stop looking and get to work—‘ but you’re too far away to catch all of it.
The skies darken before the light comes back again. Things are eerily quiet.
When leadership becomes worthless, it’s hard to keep a proper sense of identity. Everyone has seen you and Eunhyuk as their leaders for a long while now. But since Jung Uimyeong’s arrival and the clear impact he’s had on the group’s dearest Cha Hyunsu, the atmosphere has suffered a drastic change. It feels tense for everyone but the newfound duo. It’s suffocating.
But instincts remain the same. Survival is key, and that means gathering information is, as well. You need to get what Uimyeong’s plan is before it escalates, but you know he would have no interest in talking to you.
So Hyunsu, it is.
“You don’t trust me.”
“But I do! I’ve always trusted you, Hyunsu.”
The latter keeps on walking and you have to jog to catch up. This is ridiculous, how could he allow a stranger to change him so much? Did he convince him the people here were the real enemy? You wouldn’t be surprised. Still…
“Just stop and have an actual conversation with me.” you scoff.
He does just that, stops in his tracks, and you nearly run into him. He turns around slowly to look at you. Hyunsu’s expression is usually devoid of emotion but now it’s just cold. “I don’t want to talk to you. Everything you say’s a lie. You don’t trust anyone here. I’ll say good luck to the people who still think you’re a good leader.”
“Isn’t that too much?” Eunhyuk. “Especially since you know it’s not true. Or were you influenced by that guy so easily?”
Hyunsu glances at him, then back at you, before directing his glare to Eunhyuk again. “Find someone else to run your errands. I’m tired of it.”
“That’s not—”
“Leave him be.” Eunhyuk says as Hyunsu walks away. You sigh and rub your temples. This isn’t good. “There’s no point in trying to reason with him now.”
“So what, we don’t do anything? Leave things as they are?”
“We do.”
You sigh and turn around to let your head drop on his shoulder. Eunhyuk brings his hand to the back of your head and leaves it there. You’re not sure how or why this change happened between the two of you after the shootout, but neither of you mention it. It might be for the best.
“I’m tired.” you mumble.
“You should get some rest.” he says quietly, “There isn’t much to take care of, right now. You should be able to sleep for a bit.”
“How long is a bit?”
“Until I wake you, approximately.”
“… Fine by me.”
The sun sets—
“Wake up.”
“Hmm…?” you force yourself to open your eyes and look up. God, the world’s blurry. “What?”
“Switch. I need to rest for a bit.”
You nod lazily and sit up on the bed, making space for him to sit. He settles at your side and turns to look at you. “Look here.” he says (demands) with a hand on your jaw. You turn and feel like he’s scrutinizing your face. “Any injuries?”
“Not anything new, no.” you say, “You?”
“The same.” he sighs, dropping his hand. It’s your turn to touch his face. You hold the side of it in your hand and let your thumb graze the skin under his eye. His glasses are good to hide his eyes, you think. But you’re always close enough to see them. After the shooting, you remember something, despite the state you were in.
“You cried.” you say. He hums inquisitively at that. “When those guys barged in and stuff. When you came back after going with them, you looked like you’d been crying.”
“Not really. I was just upset.”
“Because?”
“Is there not enough reasons to be upset in this place?” he deadpans, and scoffs silently when you give him a look. “I couldn’t save Ms. An. I watched her get shot.”
You have half a mind to hold back from squeezing his head to death. “And you didn’t think it worth mentioning? That’s bad, Eunhyuk.”
“I’ve… Seen worse.”
“That’s stupid.”
“You’re stupid.”
You look at him with wide eyes. “Take it back.”
“Or else?” he asks. Oh. Oh. He’s teasing you. What the hell? This is new. Your hand drops to grab his collar. You get deja-vu. Something similar happened before. He looks down at your hand then back up at you.
“You really want to find out, do you?”
There’s something in the air. Something you would’ve usually described as tension, but it almost feels comfortable. You know Eunhyuk well yet you can’t tell what’ll happen next. You could guess, though. Each word and touch means more now than it used to.
(Maybe they always meant something, maybe you just chose to ignore it.)
He stares at you for a few seconds then tilts his head to the side, expression unreadable. “I do.”
Your fingers tighten around his collar and he smiles. His hand comes up to wrap around your wrist, slowly pulling it away from him. “Hey…?”
“But I don’t think I’ll find out about anything. You’re a liar, after all. And a coward, just like me.” he says, all whilst gently pushing you to lay on the mattress. He does it so naturally it takes you a moment to realize. He hovers over you with your wrist still in hand. “Is that fine with you?”
“You insulting me or you pinning me down?”
“You decide.” he sighs, pressing your wrist down gently next to your head, “Would I be wrong to assume you don’t really mind either of those?”
You decide to shut him up instead. He takes it well.
“You taste a bit bloody.”
“Deal with it.”
#lee eunhyuk x reader#lee eun hyuk x reader#lee eunhyeok x reader#lee eun hyeok x reader#sweet home x reader#x reader
412 notes
·
View notes
Text
WHY DON’T U LOVE ME? (pt 1) human! miles quaritch
[ masterlist ]
IN WHICH… jake sully becomes too preoccupied with the omatikaya to check up on his daughter. miles quaritch uses it to his advantage, luring you in with sweet words and caging you.
Notes: unstable! jake sully’s daughter! reader, daddy issues, toxic relationship, age gap, pet names (quaritch calls reader princess + sweetheart), manipulation, neglect, bi! reader, a little trudy x r if you squint, angst, LONG one shot, implications of sex, intense make out sessions, reader commits suicide, dark, angst, jake lowkey being a bad father, mental health issues, character death
—
part 1 | part 2
You were the exact opposite of Pandora. With your wide doe eyes and shorter figure, it was a wonder how you had managed to survive the turbulent flight. As you trailed behind Jake, your father, giving his wheelchair a gentle push when needed, various soldiers turned their heads to peer at you.
You didn’t look like a marine. You didn’t even look like a scientist. Instead, you waltzed around in a daze, curious eyes darting to look everywhere. You had no idea where you were heading; you merely followed after Jake.
His heavy bags weighed you down, making every step a struggle. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment as you stumbled, and a group of men loudly snickered.
You held the heavy steel door for your father as he rolled into the large room. Honestly, you had no idea what you were even doing on such a strange planet. All you remembered was that Uncle Tom had been shot, and suddenly, Jake was swept into a mission that wasn’t his—forced to fill his brother’s shoes. Now, here you were, dragged along with him, feeling out of place on a planet that felt far too wild for someone like you.
You were supposed to be buying makeup, drinking, choosing outfits, and crying when dirt got under your nails. Instead, you were stuck on Pandora without any of your ditzy friends, relying on your father to keep you company.
You stared at the Colonel, who stood at the front of the room, his back turned to the new recruits. You slowly sat down on a stiff metal bench, fiddling with your fingers. You glanced at the marine next to you, briefly smiling.
"You are not in Kansas anymore. You are on Pandora, ladies and gentlemen." He turns, and you stiffen, feeling the breath suddenly knock out of your lungs. He was... handsome. His features were rough and rugged, and three long scars dragged through his cropped hair. "Beyond that fence, every living thing that crawls, flies, or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for jujubes." You could hardly hear his low voice, too enamoured by his looks.
"As head of security, it's my job to keep you alive. I will not succeed." He strode down the empty aisle, hands clasped behind his back as he paused. "Not with all of you." Your gaze followed him until he stopped in front of you. You stared up at him through your lashes, lips softly parted.
You could smell the faint scent of his cologne. It overpowered you, flooding your senses. He continued talking, but his words never fully reached your ears. He placed his hands on his hips, his elbow almost whacking you in the face.
"Class dismissed."
You were the first to stand up. The Colonel, out of the corner of his eye, saw you. He turned his head, eyes trailing down your figure. You picked up the last bag before lifting your head, your gaze locking with the Head of Security.
It was a brief moment of eye contact before your father called out your name. "Sorry, sir, excuse me." You brushed past the Colonel, hurrying after Jake.
The corridor was a mess, filled with luggage and crowded with people of all sorts. You squeezed past them all, struggling to breathe in the claustrophobic air.
"Hey! You're Jake, right?!" A scrawny man staggered under the weight of his overpacked duffel bag as he jogged to catch up with you and your father. "Tom's brother? I'm Norm Spellman. I, uh, went through avatar training with him." Norm glanced at you, "And you must be Y/N, right? Tom's daughter, I'm guessing? He talked about you a lot."
"She's mine, actually." Jake interrupted. "My daughter."
Norm's brows raised for a second before he smiled. "Right, of course. Sorry."
Your focus trailed off as Norm and Jake conversed. You merely followed after them. Your eyes widened in awe as you came face to face with Tom's, now Jake's, avatar. It looked just like your Uncle. You pressed a hand against the transparent amino tank, deeply inhaling.
"Grace Augustine is a legend!" Norm exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. "She's the head of the Avatar Program and wrote the literal book on Pandoran botany."
"So it's like the Pandoran botany bible?" You finally spoke up for the first time since arriving on the alien world. You heard Max, another scientist, let out a quiet snort.
"Yeah, you can say that. She wrote the book because she likes plants better than people." Max said over his shoulder.
You almost jumped in shock when a link compartment door was slammed open with a loud bang. Grace Augustine, a fierce woman, sat up. You watched as she stretched her neck, lowly groaning. "Okay, who's got my damn cigarette?!" She shouted as she stood up.
Grace's eyes were anything but kind as she watched the four of you approach her. She deeply scowled.
"Grace, I'd like you to meet Norm Spellman, Y/N Sully, and Ja"- Max attempted to introduce the three of you, but Grace abruptly cut him off.
"Norm. I hear good things about you. How's your Na'vi?" She practically ignored you and your father, her attention focused solely on the one person who actually belonged on Pandora.
"Grace." Max tried again, "This is Y/N Sully and Jake Sully."
"Yeah, yeah. I know who they are." Her lips curled into a frown as she turned to Jake. "I don't need you. I need your brother. The PhD who trained three years for this mission."
"He's dead, " you said. You had always possessed a sharp tongue, but in situations like these, you really needed to learn to bite your remarks back.
Grace looked even more unimpressed to see you. "This Tom's daughter?"
"Mine." Jake corrected for the second time in an hour.
"Funny. She looks just like Tom."
"What a surprise. It's almost like he was my twin."
Grace huffed in slight amusement. "Whatever. I guess we can use her for... something. A secretary of sorts. Let's hope Quaritch takes a liking to you. Maybe he’ll stop annoying the shit out of me with a new play toy.”
"Hey, no, no. You can't talk about her like that." Jake piped up, "She's a person, not an object."
Grace ignored his jab. "How much lab training have you had?"
"I dissected a frog once in high school chemistry," Jake answered. He glanced at you, "Y/N's better. She won a science award."
"In what, primary school?" Grace sharply retorted, rolling her eyes.
You scoffed under your breath. No, you won the state science competition.
"You see? They're just pissing on us without the courtesy of calling it rain. I'm going to Selfridge." Grace shoved past you, storming down the corridor.
"Parker, I used to think it was benign neglect, but now I see you're intentionally screwing us. I need a research assistant, not some jarhead. " Grace grumbled, furrowing her eyebrows in frustration.
Selfridge merely shrugged as he looked down at his golf ball, gently hitting it towards a cup. Grace kicked it aside, frowning in annoyance. "Actually, I think we got lucky."
Grace scoffed as Selfridge leaned down to retrieve the ball. "Lucky?" She groaned, " How is this in any way lucky?"
"Well, lucky your guy had a twin brother, and lucky the brother wasn't an oral hygienist or something. A Marine we can use. I'm assigning him to your team as a security escort." Selfridge folded his arms over his chest.
"The last thing I need is another trigger-happy asshole out there with a bimbo daughter!" Grace abruptly shouted, slamming her hand down on the table.
"She's smarter than she looks. You ever heard of that kid who won the US State Academic Award?" Selfridge flipped through a series of folders before pulling one out and showing the front paper to Grace.
The woman stared at the picture of you, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. "That... was her?"
"Yeah. Maybe you can, I don't know, teach her to become a scientist or something. She learns fast from what I've heard. Jake only dragged her along because if he left, there’d be no one else to take care of her."
"So? She’s an adult."
"Well, no. She was a teenager before leaving for Pandora. But anyway, she went a bit loopy after high school. Took a bunch of pills. If Jake left her alone, he’d only return to her grave."
“What, so we’re taking in suicidal kids now? We ain’t a help shelter, Parker.”
“I think she can offer us something. Quaritch took one look at her picture and accepted her into the operation. So, clearly, he sees something we don’t. But, whatever keeps him happy, I guess. As long as he gets his job done.”
Grace scoffed for what felt like the fifth time today. "Whatever." She muttered.
"Sully, Colonel wants to see you in the Armor Bay." Trudy Chacon, a pilot and former Marine, strode into the lab, still dressed in her flight suit. Jake lifted his head, sending Norm a puzzled look.
Nevertheless, he followed after Trudy. She led him past numerous planes and AMPSUITS. "He's down there," Trudy uttered, pointing to the makeshift gym where Jake saw Colonel Miles Quaritch bench-pressing massive weights.
"This low gravity makes you soft," Quaritch grunted as he pushed through the last rep. "You get soft; Pandora will shit you out dead with zero warning." He racked the bar and sat up, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. "I pulled your record, Corporal. Venezuela, that was some mean bush. Nothing like this here, though. You got heart coming out here. Especially with your daughter, no doubt."
Jake shrugged, "Just another hellhole, sir. And if I left my daughter, she'd practically be an orphan."
"You weren't planning on returning to her?"
"I'd probably be dead, sir. And if it takes six years to travel back, she'd want nothing to do with me. Even now, she almost despises me."
"She looks a lot like you, apart from the eyes."
"Yeah. Her mother had the same big doe eyes."
Quaritch only chuckled as he clapped Jake on the shoulder. "I was in First Recon a few years ahead of you. More than a few. Two tours in Nigeria, not a scratch. I come out here, and on the first day, I get this." He pointed to his scarred head, lips curling into a sneer. "They could fix this if I rotated back. But you know what? I kinda like it. Reminds me every day what's out there."
Jake listened attentively as Quaritch explained a proposition: "I take care of my own, son. Get me what I need, and I'll see you get your legs back when you rotate home—your real legs."
Jake let out a chuckle, not being able to suppress his wide grin. "That sounds real good, sir." He paused, "But what about my daughter?"
Quaritch raised an eyebrow as he watched Jake shake his head. "I can’t take care of her. I could barely take care of her on Earth. I need to make sure she ends up somewhere safe before I…" He trailed off.
“Before you run away.” Quaritch finished. “Don’t worry, Sully. I’ll take care of her if things get too tough.”
If only Jake noticed the crude meaning behind his words.
The first time Quaritch approached you was when your father was out on another mission. You were lounging around in the laboratory, tapping a pen against the table in boredom.
Norm was gone too, so was Grace. Trudy was with them as well. Max was… your eyes trailed around the room, searching for the friendly scientist. He was working on another project.
You sighed, tilting her head back. Your lips settled into a pout as you spun around in the chair, relieving your boredom for a few short sentences. You were interrupted when two hands slammed down on either side of you, effectively trapping you.
You looked up, eyes wide as you stared at the Colonel. You expected a scold to roll off his tongue. He merely grinned down at you. “We haven’t formerly met, Y/N.”
“You know my name?” You whispered. As far as you were concerned, nobody batted at eye at you. Sure, you were nice eye candy, a stark difference from the actual workers, but there was nothing else to you. You felt your cheeks heat up as he leaned closer.
“You’re Sully’s girl.” He grinned, “Plus, I read your file. You had a bright future. Early acceptation from Harvard law. What happened?”
You slowly swallowed. Right, you had forgotten about that. Your life had been going great until your high school graduation. It was the same day your Uncle Tom was shot. You didn’t turn up to graduation. In fact, you barely left your room after that.
Jake Sully was your father on paper but Tom Sully was everything else.
Your life fell into pieces after your Uncle’s death. You were already on the verge of a mental breakdown and his death was the breaking point.
You glanced back at Quaritch, silent for a moment. “An accident happened.” You murmured. “My Uncle died.”
“And I’m guessing your father didn’t help? He told you to suck it up?”
Yes, those were Jake’s exact words.
“Why are you talking to me, Colonel?” You muttered, fidgeting with your hands.
“I need you to do something for me, pretty.” His face was barely an inch from yours, his lips almost brushing yours. You had the urge to close the gap yet you remained still, waiting. “I need you to keep an eye on Augustine and her team. Can you do that for me?” His hands grazed your collarbones as he rested them on your shoulders. Your breath hitched. You hadn’t been touched so gently in years.
“Okay.” You whispered without thinking.
“Good. If that smart little brain of yours suspects anything, tell me.” He stood up straight.
“I’m not smart, Colonel.” You said as he began to walk away. You watched as he slung his jacket over his shoulder and turned to look at you once more.
A smirk pulled at his lips. “Oh? Then how come Harvard wanted you so bad?”
It had been days since your last interaction with the Colonel but his words seemed engraved into your head. You softly bit down on your bottom lip, jolting when Norm’s link suddenly opened. “Hey.” He greeted you. He was probably the only nice person to you. Him, Trudy, and Max. Grace didn’t like your presence looming around but she tolerated you. And Jake didn’t bother checking up on you; he wanted you to get settled in by yourself.
“Hi.” You replied, staring at him. You noticed his tired eyes. “Busy day?”
“Yeah. Decided to take a break. You doing alright?”
You silently nodded. Between you and Norm, there wasn’t much to discuss. You knew nothing about Pandora while he seemed to know everything, constantly spewing out knowledge in your face.
“You wanna grab lunch together?” Norm asked but you politely declined. You had already eaten after taking a short nap. Grace said she’d get you some work to do but she never did.
“Hey, Sully.” Another marine soldier whose name you didn’t know called out for you, “The Colonel’s asking for ya. Says he has a job for you.” You were secretly glad to have a task to do. Days on Pandora were so boring.
You scrambled out of your seat, following the Marine into a part of the base you had never been to. You mainly stuck to the science compound where Grace could keep an eye on you.
“Colonel, I got ‘er.” The soldier announced, briefly saluting. Quaritch turned away from Selfridge to look you up and down, nodding.
“Just make her file papers or copy. I don’t care.” You heard Selfridge hiss as he poked Quaritch’s chest and walked away. You felt self conscious standing in a room jam packed of soldiers. They all craned their heads to get a look at you, eyes flickering to your low cut top.
“Here you go, pretty. That’ll be plenty to keep you occupied. Just copy them and I’ll check back with you in an hour.” Quaritch shoved a pile of files into your arms, his hands grazing yours. You blushed at the sudden contact.
“Yes sir.” You squeaked. His gaze remained on your figure, almost scrutinising you before he turned his head.
You admired his side profile, your gaze not so subtly staring at his sharp jawline. He noticed but made no comment. You hurried off, almost crashing into people due to the files covering your vision. Quaritch watched you with an amused glint in his eyes. Oh, you were going to be fun.
You sat in front of the printer, your eyes drooping at its slow pace. You would have fallen asleep had Trudy not interrupted you. “Hey, mini Sully, what’cha doing?!” She ruffled your hair, jolting you awake.
“Printing papers for the Colonel.” You murmured, giving the printer a firm kick when it paused.
“You so bored that you started listening to the Colonel? Ha!” Trudy chuckled as she slung an arm around your shoulder. “Augustine really ain’t making it easy for you, huh?”
You simply shook your head. “She doesn’t seem to like me.”
“Oh, nonsense! She’ll warm up eventually!” Trudy slapped you on the back, leaving you winded. You lowly grunted, almost sent forward by the sudden force.
“Yeah, sure.” You muttered, still not believing the pilot’s words. The room was peacefully silent before Trudy swore under her breath.
“Sorry, babe, gotta fly some more avatars down. Duty calls.”
Her teasing pet name made your cheeks flare up. Somehow the RDA has managed to send the most attractive people to Pandora. You were stuck with the whirring printer as it paused again, clearly struggling. You gave it another kick, forcing it back into action.
“Whoa, slow down, sweetheart. Don’t need ‘cha breaking our equipment.” Quaritch leaned against the doorframe, gaze lazily trailing over you. You were sitting backwards on a chair, arms propped up.
“It’s too slow.” You complained. Though, your voice was quiet. Quaritch had to strain his ears to hear your words.
“Where’s your dad?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Out.” You replied, suddenly feeling bitter at how Jake was almost ignoring you.
“He plans to abandon you.”
You ceased all actions as you slowly turned your head to stare at Quaritch. “What?” You whispered.
Jake wasn’t the best dad, that was for sure. At least, not to you. But you could barely blame him. You were the result of a college hook-up, just another burden forced into his hands when your mother didn’t want you. He liked you at first. He treated you with care.
You were his precious little girl for a brief moment in time. And then you grew up into your own person, almost like a stranger to Jake. You looked so much like him that he seemed to hate it. He hated seeing another copy of him, reminding him of what his life could have looked like had he not lost control in his legs.
Deep inside, you were still his little girl who believed you were his whole world when, in reality, you were the last thing in his mind.
“Said so himself, sweetheart. He can’t look after you, not like this.” Quaritch stepped closer to you, softly tilting your chin up with a flick of his fingers.
You knew your presence made life difficult for Jake but he never complained. Hearing the Colonel’s cruel words was a snap back to reality.
“I suppose it’ll be easier for him…” You muttered, your tongue darting out to lick your dry lips.
“I told him I’d take care of you.” Quaritch muttered as he leaned down, his warm breath hitting your ear. “So don’t get into trouble, sweetheart.” He teasingly tapped your cheek as the corners of his mouth twitched into a sly grin.
You had a feeling that Quaritch wasn’t trying to act as a second father finger as his gaze lingered on your lips for a second too long.
Your theory was proven correct when one night, weeks after your arrival, Quaritch cornered you in the dim kitchen. It was late and you had snuck out of your room to retrieve a cup of cold water. You didn’t even know the Colonel had entered the room until he closed the creaky door behind him.
“Up for a late night snack, sweetheart?” He called out, using your endearing nickname. You stared at him through your lashes as you leaned over to grab a cup from the dishwasher.
“No, sir. Only some water.” You softly replied, never breaking eye contact. In one swift moment, he snatched the fragile cup from your hand and shoved you against the stone-top counter. The edges dug into your clothed back as you merely blinked up at him.
“You’re in my personal space, Colonel.” You said, lightly mocking him. He said nothing as he effortlessly lifted you onto the counter, grabbing your chin with his hand.
“It was easy to ignore those science pukes and my soldiers but you waltz around here in low jeans and cropped tops.” His brows furrowed together in frustration, “I can’t even remember the most beautiful woman I’ve seen because it’s always you in my goddamn mind.”
You tilted your head to the side, adjusting your shirt that was beginning to slow down your shoulder, showing a silver of skin. “I don’t understand, sir.” You murmured. What was the point behind his words?
He leaned in, lips brushing yours but never actually colliding. He seemed to hesitate but the doubt clouding his head vanished when you wrapped your arms around his neck and closed the distance between you.
You were moving eagerly, taking away his ability to breathe. Literally. He had to forcefully pull away to inhale some much needed oxygen to relieve his dizzy head.
You didn’t let him take a break for long. You tugged him forward by his shirt collar, muttering muffled words against his lips. “Don’t leave me, Colonel.” You whispered, tucking your face into his shoulder.
Quaritch pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, dragging out a low sigh from you. You allowed your head to loll to the side, granting him further access. He nipped and sucked on your exposed skin, listening to the quiet sounds slipping past your lips.
From that night on you, were obsessed with Colonel Miles Quaritch and you only drowned deeper into the guilty pleasure each time you shared stolen kisses in the empty corridors.
You barely saw Jake anymore, too preoccupied in keeping Quaritch company. You were sure Lyle Wainfleet, Quaritch’s second-in-command, could hear the squeak of his superior’s bed. Lyle had even caught you sneaking out of the Colonel’s room late at night a few times, hair messy, lipstick smudged, and your shirt barely covering the bruises that lay upon your collarbone. Yet, you didn’t really care and neither did he. Lyle had seen much worse things in his lifetime.
You were lying in your own bed when you heard a knock on your door. Begrudgingly, you crawled out from under your warm blankets and stumbled through the dark.
You opened the door, expecting to see your father, maybe Norm or Trudy, even Grace. You were expecting anybody else but the Colonel himself.
“Sir.” You greeted him. He brushed past you, entering your room without your permission but you let him. You were already closing the door behind you, locking it for safe measures.
“Felt lonely without you.” Quaritch sighed as he fell onto your soft mattress. You could faintly see him beckoning you over through the darkness. “Missed the smell of your perfume too.” As you lay down beside him, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, your perfume hitting him like an avalanche.
You thought he was merely here for sex, like he always was, but he grabbed your wrists when your hands travelled to the waistband of his pants. “Just wanted to see your pretty face and hear your voice.” He uttered, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You felt a warm, giddy feeling seep into your chest as he pulled you close. When had you last been touched so lovingly? Quaritch was so gentle. His hands rested on the curve of your back, thumb rubbing affectionate circles into your skin.
You allowed your eyes to flutter closed, leaning into his warm embrace. For the first time in a while, you felt safe. Quaritch shifted, his arms now wrapped around you as he pulled you close. The lingering smell of his cologne hit you, clouding your mind of every rational thought.
The effect he had on you was dangerous but you loved it.
You were aimlessly braiding Trudy’s hair when Grace stormed towards you. She grabbed you by the shoulder, practically dragging you towards the door. Trudy looked up, confused, but not questioning it.
“Ow! That hurts!” You exclaimed, trying to swat Grace’s hand away. She ignored you.
“Are you out of your mind?!” She hissed, harshly flicking your forehead. “Messing around with Quaritch of all people?”
“How do you know about that?” You didn’t bother denying it.
“Well, he isn’t exactly secret about it. Doesn’t even bother wiping the lipstick marks off his neck. And nobody here wears lipstick apart from you.” She poked your chest, her eyebrows furrowing. “You could do so much better. Why him of all the idiotic people here?”
You silently shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “He makes me feel… loved.” You whispered, lowering your head. You had never been ashamed of being involved with the Colonel but Grace’s judgemental glare suddenly made you feel self conscious.
“He isn’t capable of love, kid! And that’s what you are. You’re like a kid compared to him! There’s plenty of younger marine soldiers.” Grace paused, looking you up and down. “Unless… this has something to do with Jake. If you’re looking for anything resembling a father, you won’t find it in Quaritch.”
Tears glazed over your eyes as Grace said nothing but the truth.
“If you’re looking for stability, protection, and emotional support because your relationship with Jake lacks that, choose someone else. Not Quaritch.”
Your cheeks burned up. You barely understood yourself, but Grace was psychoanalysing you in a matter of seconds. You swallowed hard, your throat tight as Grace’s words cut deep. You wanted to argue against her brutal honesty, but she was staring right through you, her gaze sharp.
"I'm not looking for a father figure."
"Then what are you looking for?" She pressed, her voice softer but still relentless. "Love? That’s not in his arsenal, kid." Grace saw your trembling lips. She sighed gently, "I'm not trying to beat you down. Quaritch has his motives, and whatever feelings you have for him won't change his agenda. Trust me, I’ve seen men like him. They’re good at giving you what you want—until they don’t." Her voice was almost motherly, starkly different from how she usually spoke to you. She never talked to you like that, not with such tenderness, making the truth even more challenging to swallow.
Her words haunted you as she walked away. You felt vulnerable. Grace had peeled away a layer of you that you weren't ready to face. Your chest felt tight as you stumbled towards Quaritch's office, your eyesight blurry with unfallen tears. Grace's voice lingered in the back of your mind, attacking you.
She was right—you knew it deep down. But the ache of Quaritch's attention, his intense affection, felt too good to give up. It was intoxicating, in a dangerous way that clouded your judgment. He made you feel important and seen; it filled the hole in your heart.
The warmth of his presence, the subtle touch of his hand when no one was watching, the guarded smiles he flashed—it was enough to make you forget, even for a fleeting second, how dangerous your obsession with Quaritch could be.
His possessive gaze from across the room always made your stomach somersault. His attention was a drug, and you weren't sure if you had the strength to walk away.
You slowly lifted a hand, hesitantly knocking on his door. "Come in." He gruffly called out. You twisted the knob, gently pushing the door open.
"Hello, sir." You murmered.
He instantly noticed your distressed face and the way your brows creased together. "What's on your mind, sweetheart?" He asked, beckoning you forward.
"Sir..." Your mouth ran dry. "Is it true? Do you really view me as a..." You couldn't even finish your sentence. He played with the hem of your shirt, nodding his head to encourage you to continue. "Someone told me you don't care about me."
"Of course I do, princess." He caressed your waist. "Who told you that?"
"Grace." You murmured, kneeling in front of him and leaning your cheek against his knee. He softly stroked your head, bringing you a speckle of comfort.
"Don't listen to those science pukes, sweetheart." He told you, tilting your head up. "They don't know you like I do, baby." His thumb traced the shape of your lips. All your doubts flew out the window as he pulled you up, kissing you.
You peeked into Jake's room, searching for your father. You noticed how his bunk was almost empty, stripped of his belongings. The only thing left was a framed picture of you and him on his nightstand with a short note under it. You knew what the letter meant. He was leaving you all over over.
Suddenly, you were five again, begging your father not to go on another mission because you still wanted- no, needed- his love. You held the photograph of you together close to your chest, your emotions overwhelming you. You didn't even know he still had this picture, let alone kept it beside him while he slept. However, the fact that he had forgotten or purposely left it didn't sit right with you.
Your hands trembled as you removed the picture from the frame, delicately folding it and shoving it into your pocket. You grabbed the note, almost crashing into the wall with how fast you ran out of the room. “Sorry!” You exclaimed as you shoved past two scientists.
You frantically knocked on Quaritch’s door, knowing it was his day off. When he didn’t open it, you started wildly banging your fist against the surface. You even kicked the door a little, almost knocking it off its hinges. “I’m coming! I’m coming! Hold on, fucking hell!” You heard him shout. He angrily opened the door, raising his eyebrows when he saw you.
“My dad. He left.” You blurted out. You felt bad for snitching on your own father but that wasn’t enough to stop you. A part of you would always crave Quaritch’s approval and you knew you’d go to great lengths to prove it. “He left this.” You handed him the note Jake had placed on the nightstand, announcing his abrupt departure with Norm, Grace, and Trudy. As Quaritch’s eyes scanned over the note, you couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder when you heard a quiet groan.
Your heart almost stopped. There was a woman in Quaritch’s bed. All you could see was her brunette hair but you immediately knew it was. Paz Socorro. The marines liked her as much as they liked you. She was beautiful, much closer to Quaritch’s age than you. She was curled into a ball, the blankets softly draped over her undressed form.
Quaritch saw you stiffen but only raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘we weren’t exclusive’. He shoved the note back into your hands and closed the door on you, not even bothering to even utter a word. You stood in front of his room, frozen and shocked. Once you realised he had no intention of speaking to you, you slowly dragged your feet in the direction of your room.
Your body felt heavy as you forced it to move. You were sure you would have fully collapsed when your knees buckled if it wasn’t the person who swiftly caught you. “Thank you.” You murmured.
You barely got to your room in time before everything started collapsing. You slammed the door behind you, slowly sliding down it. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to wipe them away with no avail.
Your father had left you like he always did even though he promised he’d never do it again.
Norm and Trudy, your only two friends, were gone too.
And Grace, who you were beginning to view as a slight mother figure, left with them.
Not to mention Quaritch, the man who your twisted mind claimed to love, had another woman in his life. Grace was right. You should have listened but you thought you knew better.
You felt numb as you crawled into your bed, ignoring your given duties. Selfridge had knocked on your door hours ago, demanding you to file and copy some paperwork, but you tuned his voice out. Nobody except for you knew how to properly work the printer. What a bunch of idiots. Weren’t they supposed to be the smartest and toughest bunch?
Your hair stuck to your flushed face as you buried yourself deeper into the comfort of your blankets. You barely registered the sound of your door creaking open until the dim light from the hallway suddenly flooded in.
“Princess, I promise you she meant nothing.” You heard Quaritch call out into your dark room, “She was just a fling, that’s all. I missed you.”
A part of you didn’t want to believe his words, but as he leaned down to kiss the side of your head, you lost all common sense. You couldn’t resist his sickly sweet words, which made your stomach churn and your heart flutter.
He embraced you, and you let him, knowing there was no point in fighting when you would ultimately lose. You kissed him back as he crawled into your bed, cornering you without a chance to run.
You were tightly wrapped around his finger as he placed you on his lap, your lips never leaving his. You were barely inhaling any oxygen, sacrificing your need to breathe to spend more time pressed up against Quaritch.
Grace was right, but you were already in too deep to remember her words. It was your mistake, really. And you realized that when Quaritch's gentle grip became bruising, and it became impossible to escape his controlling gaze.
Quaritch watched the monitor in anger, staring at Jake’s avatar. His hands clenched into fists as he immediately spun around, searching for the one person who would give him the leverage he needed. You.
He burst into your room. You screamed out of surprise, papers flying everywhere. “Get up, princess.” He yanked you out of your seat, his tight grip enough to bruise your shoulder.
“Where are we going?” You asked, your gaze nervously darting around.
“To get your dad. You know where he is, right?”
You stared up at Quaritch, your lips sealed. Jake had briefly mentioned the location to you in his note, but you had scribbled it out before showing Quaritch the letter. He merely chuckled, leaning down to match your height. “Come on, sweetheart. Tell me where he is, and I’ll reward you.” He caressed your cheek, thumb gently stroking your skin. You leaned into his touch, your mind clouded.
“A reward?” You quietly questioned. “Anything I want?”
Quaritch smirked, “Anything.”
You thought for a moment, thickly gulping. Your eyes darted up to meet his and you parted your glossy lips. “The Hallelujah mountains.” You whispered, almost wishing he didn’t hear you.
“Good job, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you give you want you want when we get back.” He patted your head and you opened your lips to ask what he meant by we. Your silent question was answered when he tugged you towards an aircraft.
“Your dad’s crossed the line. It’s time he remember who he’s fighting for.”
You stiffened as Quaritch suddenly pricked your skin with a sharp knife. He held it against your throat. One wrong move and your blood would be everywhere. The blade dug into your flesh, cutting a thin line. Tiny drops of blood oozed out, staining your white-collar top.
You were scared for your life but you made no attempt in fighting against Quaritch. Because surely he wouldn’t actually slit your throat, right? He loved you too much… at least, that’s what you thought in your mind.
Quaritch, satisfied with your dormant state, slowly slipped the knife back into its holster. He held onto you securely, making butterflies erupt in your stomach. To you, it felt like a loving touch. To others, they knew it was a way of ensuring you didn’t run.
You looked foreign to your father. He hadn’t gazed at you in so long that he forgot what you looked like. He felt a small pang of guilt as he watched the way Quaritch took a step to stand closer to you, too close to be merely acquaintances.
Grace has warned him about the Colonel’s new suddenly interest in you but Jake was too stubborn to listen. Now he realised what she meant. Jake, after years of letting you fend for yourself, had officially lost you. And you had fallen into the hands of a greedy and cruel man.
You stood beside Quaritch as the recording of Jake destroying a bulldozer camera played on repeat. It suddenly paused on a frame revealing Jake’s angry snarl. “You let me down, son.”
You watched the scene with wide eyes. Grace, Norm, and Jake were thrown into a cell for siding with the Na’vi. You turned to Quaritch, tugging on his shirt to gain his attention. “Sir, is this really necessary?” You murmured, glancing at your father.
Quaritch wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you away. “He doesn’t love you, sweetheart. He doesn’t care about you.” He whispered in your ear as he stroked his thumb over your cheek. Your mind instantly believed any lie he shoved down your throat and you slowly nodded. “I’m here. I care about you, not him.”
You blindly trailed after him. You’d walk off a cliff for Quaritch and he knew it. He used your loyalty to his advantage because all it took was a murmur of sweet words in your ear for you to follow him.
You didn’t visit Jake until hours later. You adjusted your top to conceal the marks Quaritch had left on your body. The guard standing in front of the cell nodded in acknowledgment at you before walking off to give you some privacy. You halted in front of the cell, red eyes looking up to meet Jake’s. It had taken thirty minutes for you to stop crying after Quaritch convinced you that Jake wanted you gone.
“Quaritch said you don’t care about me.” You uttered, staring at Jake. You heard the quiet sound of Grace scoffing.
“And you believe him?” She asked.
“You left me. Why wasn’t I allowed to come?” Your brows furrowed. Jake was sitting right in front of you in his wheelchair, wanting to reach out a hand to comfort you but he knew you’d only pull away. His touch felt like hot iron on your skin.
“It was too dangerous.” He muttered, unable to meet your gaze.
You kneeled so that he was forced to lock eyes with you. “Why don’t you love me?” Your words came out as a whisper but when Jake didn’t answer, you grew angry. “Why don’t you love me?!” You reached through the bars, gripping onto his shirt. “You don’t love me! You don’t care about me! Why?! Why don’t you love me?!” You screamed.
Jake couldn’t answer. You leaned your head against the bar, tears rolling down the apples of your cheeks. It felt like you were a child again, crying into his arms about a scraped knee. Only, it was something bigger than that.
You sniffled, your tight grip on Jake’s shirt loosening. “Why are you leaving me for her?” You didn’t even have to say Neytiri’s name. You saw the look in Jake’s eyes when he spoke about Neytiri with Norm and Grace. It was the same way you looked at Quaritch.
After your short outburst, you were ushered away by the guard. Jake could only helplessly stare at your retreating form. You were his little girl and he had let you down.
The last time Jake ever saw you with his human eyes was when he jumped on a plane with Grace, Norm, and Trudy. You had been in the control tower with Quaritch when you heard the sound of a whirring engine. The moment you realised Jake was leaving you for good, you kicked open the door and rushed out without an oxygen mask.
Jake could still remember your teary eyes as you outstretched an arm, silently begging him to come back. You would have fallen over the metal railing if it wasn’t for Quaritch heaving you back. The Colonel swiftly lifted an oxygen mask to your face, forcing you to breathe.
You never saw your father again.
It was clear that Jake’s departure meant war. Quaritch barked orders at his soldiers and pilots with you hot on his heels. He only spared you a glance when you were in the safe confides of his office.
“You know I have to go, sweetheart.” He murmured against your skin. You shook your head.
“Don’t go, please.” With Jake gone, Quaritch was your last lifeline.
“I’ll come back, princess.”
Lies.
“We can start that family you always wanted.”
Lies.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
LIES.
“No, don’t leave.” You whimpered, a futile attempt to convince him to stay with you. “If you leave, that means you don’t love me.” You received no answer. “Do you love me?” You asked, “Or are you lying? I don’t like liars.” Your nails dug into his skin.
“I have to leave, baby.” Quaritch repeated.
You were on your knees in an instant, tugging aggressively on his shirt as you sobbed. It was an exact repeat of what had happened with your father. You were starting to notice a pattern. “Why don’t you love me?! Why are you like him?” You cried. “He left me! And you’re leaving me!”
You had given him everything. Why did he still not return your desperate feelings? Quaritch almost felt bad for you. He flattened out your tousled hair, quietly shushing you. “Princess, stop crying.” He wiped your tears and smeared mascara away.
“Do you love me now?” You whispered, your hopeful doe eyes staring up at him. You were beautiful, even with red eyes and tears streaming down your face. Quaritch hesitated. Would it be going too far to lie about such a thing to you? Especially given your current mental state.
You didn’t wait for him to reply. You forcefully pressed your lips against his, pushing him back into his seat. “I love you.” You murmured in between kisses. You were barely letting him breathe, suffocating him with your presence in hopes it would get him to reciprocate your feelings.
Maybe you were reaching for something unattainable, desperate for a connection in a place that would ultimately kill you. And yet, deep down, you knew this wasn’t love. It wasn’t even affection in the way you craved. It was something darker, but that didn’t stop you from wanting more. Every time Quaritch was near, you let yourself sink deeper into the dangerous game you were playing.
It all dawned on you as you watched Quaritch suit up. He looked handsome in his army uniform but a bitter feeling was still gnawing at you. He was leaving you just like Jake. He was abandoning you just like Jake.
You held onto Quaritch tightly, begging him once more not to go. Selfridge had to pry you off the Colonel as you sobbed and reached out your hands for him. “Why don’t you love me?!” You repeated in a loud screech, screaming at the top of your lungs. “You’re leaving me like him! You don’t love me! You lied to me! You fucking lied!” In anger, you threw your necklace at him. It hit the ground and you didn’t have a chance to retrieve it as you were dragged away screaming and swearing.
You never saw Quaritch again either. Nor Grace, Trudy, Norm, or Max.
Grace was dead. Trudy was dead. Quaritch was dead. You were under the impression that everybody was dead.
You had been forced into a dark room until you called down out of your maniac state, only seeing the light when a hatch opened to deliver you food. You didn’t know how long you had been sitting on the ground for. It felt like days had passed.
You slowly blinked, hands reaching for a gun hidden in the pockets of your cargo pants. You had taken it from your father’s room out of pure curiosity and forgot to return it. It was only loaded with one bullet but that was all you needed.
You pressed the gun against your head, biting down on your lip. You tasted metal in your mouth and it brought you an odd sense of comfort as your finger squeezed the trigger.
Nobody heard the loud gunshot ring through the air as your limp body fell to the side with a loud thud, blood staining the rough concrete floor.
The last time Jake truly saw you was when your dead body was being buried, the image of your bloodied hands engraved in his mind.
AVATAR TAGLIST (comment to be added/removed): @gruffle1
#miles quaritch#atwow quaritch#recom quaritch#recom lyle wainfleet#lyle wainfleet#na’vi avatar#avatar x reader#avatar quaritch#avatar wow#jake sully#neytiri avatar#xreader#avatar frontiers of pandora#avatar pandora#quaritch x reader#miles quaritch x reader
194 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, if your requests are still open, you can do Yandere transformers Earthspark Megatron, Soundwave and Starscream x Conjux cybertronian reader who escaped when Megatron joined the Autobots and they both meet again. (Headcannonds and separated)
OoOoOh, interesting! I'll be on my knees and be already APOLOGIZING because I haven't seen 100% the Earthspark series (just started recently!). I'll do my best to do your request! Hope you like it!
(^∀^●)ノシ
Yandere!TFE Megatron, Soundwave & Starscream with a Conjux!Cybertronian!Reader meeting again.
WARNING: Yandere behaviour, kidnapping (Megatron's part), typical violence from the series and a little bit more, suicidal ideas (Starscream's part).
MEGATRON
You have no idea how Megatron's spark broke in half at how you looked at him after he joined the Autobots.
Many decepticons held hatred and even disgust when they looked at him - but your optics held... disbelief. As if you were seeing someone you used to know but saw them be replaced with someone else.
But Megatron can't bring himself to be angry at you for not following him as his Conjux - he pulled you into the war, made you follow his beliefs and ways, he made you see the horrors of it and by his own servos, too. And then? To turn around after realizing he was doing everything done and join sides with the same bots he swore to kill and attacked for so many years.
Earthspark's Megatron gives me the vibes of being an overprotective and self-aware yandere.
The moment you two meet once again, Megatron at first tries to keep at line that dark need to tackle you and drag you to where you are going to be safe (he has been battling with himself for so many days and nights against those too obsessive ideas of his about keeping you safe, away from the world).
"My love - please, do not run away again." He begs, extending his servo at you. "Come back to me, my Conjux - I'll keep you safe, like I've always done."
If you accept and take his servo, he is going to hold you so close and cry silently, promising you he is not going to hurt you again, he is not going to make you hurt others again.
If you refuse to follow him - he is going to be crying for your forgiveness as he immobilizes you. He can't lose you again. He needs to attend to his sins, to protect you of the consequences of his own actions.
He knows what he is doing is wrong - but he can't help it.
He lost his Conjux once - and he is going to die if he loses you again.
SOUNDWAVE
Soundwave would slowly spiral into becoming a yandere after you were captured by G.H.O.S.T - both of you got to escape after Megatron took side with the Autobots, and managed to remain hidden. One day you two tried to look after energon in differente locations, and sadly, you were ambushed by the Autobots and G.H.O.S.T and taken prisoner.
Soundwave felt your anxiety and fear of being captured. And every single day he felt your sadness and anger towards those who captured you.
Earthspark's Soundwave would be an obsessive yandere that, after spiraling and meeting you again, becomes also destructive.
When he was captured and put inside of a cell, he was just... ready to give up.
"Soundwave?"
His spark felt like it was agonizing and at the same time crying in euphoria as he lifted his helm and... saw you, on the other cell across of his.
In that moment, Soundwave felt such a relief in his spark, he wanted to cry... and also destroy everything.
How dare they keep you inside of a cell? How dare they still keep you both apart from each other after having done that for so much time already?
How dare they. How dare they. Howdaretheyhowdarethey-
Thankfully - you and him get a happy ending, but add a little bit extra of aggressiveness on Soundwave's side whenever he fights, as his anger always comes back at him at remembering how much he missed you.
He is not letting his Conjux get taken away from him again. He is going to kill anyone he tries to do it again.
STARSCREAM
The need to survive skyrockets to the point it makes Starscream's mind and system break.
Imagine being 15 years imprisoned, watching as your once fellow teammates being experimented and also treated badly nearly every single day.
The worst part? You are not there.
On one servo, Starscream is thankful that you are not at the hands of G.H.O.S.T. On the other servo, Starscream is silently spiraling in a sea of anxiety and his spark always beats in agony at not having his Conjux by his side and not knowing where you are or how you are.
Are you still alive? Are you in somewhere safe? Or are you starving to death at the lack of energon? Of maybe you've been already captured and killed while being experimented on? Are you looking for him or left him to die? Oh Primus, please, do not let that be true, please.
Earthspark's Starscream would be a manipulative, possessive yandere - but with the whole PTSD from Megatron's abuse, the situation where he is now and not having you close makes him also become a paranoiac yandere.
And by Primus, he got worse after encountering Megatron after escaping the G.H.O.S.T facility.
But Hashtag's presence and empathy made his sanity remain in place for a moment. She would be a perfect sparkling for you and him to adopt and take care of.
It's Hashtag's treatment that make Starscream keep hope in his spark that you are still out there, and he is going to find you. Still, paranoia keeps eating him alive - and Skywarp and Nova Storm have to make sure he doesn't either kill something or... offlines himself.
Starscream cries the moment you and him meet again when going to help the Malto family against Mandroid. Everything but you disappears in his optics, there is only you - it has always been only you.
Starscream is going to be 24/7 by your side, holding your servo - and if you pay close attention, you can see how his optics dart from here to there, making sure there is no danger that is going to take you away. Or hear him whisper how he is going to... offline you and then himself if its necessary.
You hug Starscream in those moments to bring him back to reality, and he calms down as he hugs you back. Do not let him swim that much in those kind of thoughts - he is not that far on doing what his paranoia tells him to do.
(づ ̄ 3 ̄)づ Vhaos out!
#transformers x reader#tf earthspark#transformers earthspark#yandere megatron#yandere soundwave#yandere starscream#yandere transformers#yandere x reader#tf earthspark x reader
332 notes
·
View notes
Text
Realm's Delight
Summary: You were the twin of the dark haired child Cersei had with Robert. While fever took your twin, you survived. You are known throughout the seven kingdom as the realm's delight. The years has passed and your younger brother Joffrey wants something you have. Sandor Clegane x Baratheon! Reader
A/n: Don't hate me. Enjoy -L
Warning: Death, murder, Joffrey is Joffrey, the angst is real af, suicide
Word Count: 12.8k
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Chapter 3
Losing Sandor felt like you were drowning in an abyss of loneliness, you felt like you were being stabbed in the chest multiple times with each breath you took. The servants grew worried when you locked yourself in your chambers. They knocked and asked if you needed something. You just shouted you needed to be alone. You were in bed, under the blankets with your face under the pillow when you heard one of the servants mention Sandor’s name.
“He will get her.”
“You didn’t hear. He’s Joffrey’s guard now.” The servants grew quiet and you heard them walk away from the door. You begin to ponder on what you have done to upset Sandor so much for him to leave you. Everything was going great, plans were set and you were ready to leave this wretched place. You let out a sob at the thought of your mother. She had told you men only wanted one thing from a women but Sandor was never like that. You were the first to touch him. You were the first to kiss him and you were the first to tell him that you loved him.
You had to leave your room the next day. The servants had told you that your father requested your presence for breakfast. The servants glanced at one another as you kept quiet while they helped you dress for the day and comb your hair. You felt one of them behind you finishing a braid and placed her hands on your shoulders.
“Look at you, princess. You look beautiful.” She told you. You look ahead at the mirror and look at yourself. She gave you a smile but you kept the same stoic expression. She had braided your hair and left a few strands to frame your face. They had picked out a light blue dress with white lace on the hem of the dress. You remained silent as you walked out of the room to meet your father. Entering the hall you came to a halt when you saw Joffrey sitting next to your father already eating. Your father sat at the head of the table, Robert’s dark eyes widened at the sight of you. Waving for you to come, you walked inside. You glance back at Joffrey and feel your heart drop at the sight of Sandor standing by the wall behind him. Sandor kept looking forward with a straight face.
You quickly walked to your father, leaning down to kiss his pudgy cheek. Thanking one of the male servants who pulled your chair for you, you sat on the right side of your father.
“I didn’t see you yesterday, dear.” Robert said as your plate was being served and Robert’s cup was being filled with more wine.
“Forgive me, father. I was tired from walking around King’s Landing. I mostly slept and needed much rest. I apologize for troubling you especially during these times.” You had come up with the lie yesterday and knew if you apologized enough he would brush this over.
“This war.” Robert said before taking a drank from his wine.
“This war is the last thing on my mind. You are what matters.” You tried to ignore Joffrey’s face. Joffrey’s eyes grew hard and his thin lips turned into a frown at Robert’s word.
“What’s the matter?” Robert asked when he saw how down you looked. Sandor watched the servants glancing at one another waiting for your response. Robert kept his eyes on you when you didn't respond right away. “I think I'm coming down with something. Don’t feel well.”
“Someone bring a maester.” Robert yelled at the servants. “Eat. The maids told me you haven't left your chambers yesterday.” His words were soft and you nodded looking down at the plate.
“Probably caught something from feeding those peasants. That's what you get for being so close to those animals.” Joffrey said, stabbing his fork into his food.
Before Robert could speak you answered your brother. “They are not animals. They are humans just like us.”
“You have spent so much time with them. You have gone mad. Perhaps from being very close to one.” Joffrey said with a smirk. Sandor for the first time in his life, prayed. He prayed to whatever the fuck was up in the heavens to listen to him. He hoped King Robert didn’t think there was any meaning behind Joffrey’s words. The servants and knights watched as Joffrey and you glared at each other.
“ENOUGH.” Robert shouted at Joffrey. You remained quiet thinking what he meant. Looking at Joffrey, your eyes glance up at Sandor. You wanted to cry all over again, he had his usual scowl and his eyes were hard. He couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to, he knew he would break character. He would rather be punished than have you think he didn’t love you but he couldn't have you get hurt.
“Is there a reason why you have Sandor as your guard now?” Sandor’s heart dropped to the floor at Robert’s question. “I’m sure my sister would like to answer that.” Joffrey said, trying his best to hide his smile.
You wanted to throw the plate of food at your brother’s face. You didn't know what to say. How can you tell your father that Sandor had broken your heart after being together for years. You didn't want Sandor to be punished or worse, executed for being with you. Sandor had hurt badly but you still loved him. Clearing your throat, you look over at your father. You told the lie you came up with. A lie that would change your life forever.
“I think it’s time for me to get married.” Joffrey and Robert frowned.
“I won't be able to do that. Like mother said, that d-man is always behind me.” You had refused to call Sandor a dog. You wouldn't do it even if you were angry at him for leaving you. Joffrey leans back against his chair and gives you a glare.
“I see.” Robert said looking unsure. You had to make sure your father believed you. For Sandor’s sake and yours. If Sandor didn't want you then you would leave King’s Landing.
“I will write to my betrothed in Dorne and ask if he still wants our houses to be joined.” Robert gave you a look still not believing since you fought so hard to not be married.
“This will be a good thing. Dorne's army had risen as well their weapons. Houses are sliding with your brother, father. We need the manpower. I know Dorne will keep me safe. You have done so much for me, father. Let me help you in the only way I can. I must marry.” You finished with a nod looking at Robert seriously. Joffrey was angry when Robert yelled at him but the look Robert gave you infuriated Joffrey. Robert looked proud at you.
“Spoken well, my dear. Dorne is fortunate to have a true, strong Baratheon.” Robert gave you a smile and quickly rose up saying he will write to Drone himself about this matter.
“Dog, let’s go.” Joffrey shouted, throwing his fork on the table after Robert left in a hurry to write the letter. Force of habit, you were about to yell at Joffrey for calling Sandor a dog but you remembered he wasn’t your guard anymore. Sandor isn’t your lover or your guard or your friend anymore. You look over when Sandor begins to walk behind Joffrey. Blinking the unshed tears away, you took a deep breath. You were alone at the table. You can feel the eyes of the servants behind you, waiting for your next move.
“May I have wine, please?” You asked and quickly a cup was placed in front of you. A servant came beside you and leaned forward to fill your cup.
“Thank you.” Your voice was soft as you grabbed the cup. Staring at the red liquid inside of it, you wondered why Cersei drank so much. Is this why your father drank so heavily? Both of them were unhappy with their life so they drank. No one said a word when you drank the cup completely, drank it in a hurry that it spilled from the corner of your mouth and dripped down to your dress, staining it. When you were done, you asked for another and another. They kept their silence when you stood up without touching your plate, disregarding the maester that came in. With the cup in your hand, you began to walk out of the room to your bed chambers.
Your days were spent like that. Waking up and asking for a pitcher of wine. You stayed in your room for hours, with no human contact, just your books and wines. At night, you cried yourself to sleep. Dreams of being with Sandor and nightmares of him screaming that he never did love you woke you up.
“Lord Baelish.” You greeted him when you opened the door of your chambers after you heard a knock. He stood outside your door with a smile and his hands clasped behind him.
“Princess, I haven’t seen you in days. How are you doing?”
“I’m alright.” He gives you a nod before stepping close to you.
“We should walk in the garden, princess. I have some news.” Your eyes widened and you nodded at him. Lord Baelish waited outside with the new guard appointed to you by your father. The guard was a young man, not tall as Sandor but he had a kind face. Walking side by side with Lord Baelish and the guard a few feet behind. Lord Baelish filled you in with the war. The last battle wasn’t going well for your father, he was losing men and Dorne hasn't responded yet with his letter.
“You wanted to know if the Hound was doing alright, correct?” Lord Baelish asked, looking over at you as you stopped in front of a bench.
“That is right, I care for all the servants.” You said getting close to him, you didn't want him to grow suspicious on why you were so interested in Sandor. Lord Baelish froze when you placed a hand on his chest. Playing with the buttons of his shirt, you grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit with you on the bench.
“I care for all my friends as well.” You said as you pulled Lord Baelish’s hand on your lap. His hand were so different from Sandor. Lord Baelish hands were soft and small with no evidence that he has done manual labor in his entire life. Running your fingers over his knuckles, you wished it was Sandor. Sandor’s hands were a gift from the Seven. His hands are large, fingers are thick and rough. He had scars and calluses on his hands from working and fighting. You pressed your thighs together when you remember how big they felt inside of you. The way you drooled on them when Sandor was making love to you.
“Good princess, keep sucking on them.” You let out a deep breath and let Lord Baelish’s hand go.
“You’re far too kind, Princess. You amaze me everyday.” You look over at him with a smile. You felt bile coming up your throat at the look he gave you.
“Sandor is doing well. Joffrey and him visited the brothel last week. Sandor fucked a whore bloodily. He has become quite the beast since he started to guard your brother.”
You felt an arrow being shot in your chest by his words. Sandor was at a brothel. Sandor was sleeping with another woman who wasn't you. You wanted to cry all over again. You began to wonder if Sandor had been with anyone else when he was with you. The nights you shared your bed with him, was he sharing his with another? Did those lips you love so much were on someone else's lips?
“Lord Baelish, do forgive me. I have forgotten that my mother asked to see me before dinner. I must see her. She said it was rather important.” You rambled as you got up from the bench.
“Farewell, my dear friend.” Lord Baelish was starstruck when you placed a kiss on his chin before walking away without waiting for his response. He kept his gaze on you, watching you walk away.
“Princess, if he has done something. Tell me right now.” Your guard said when saw you in tears. He had taken his helmet off and kneel in front of you when you barged into your chambers in tears.
“I swear it. I will kill him.” You look at your guard who held a concerned look on his young face. When he was about to rise up to leave the room. You held on to his shoulder, you quickly removed your hand.
“Please don’t. Lord Baelish hasn’t done anything. He just brought me sad news.” The guard nodded before looking down at the ground.
“I’m sorry, princess. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll help you.” Wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You glance at the guard who kept his gaze on the ground below you.
“Thank you. What’s your name?” The guard looks up. “It’s Felix, princess.” You nodded at him.
“Well Felix, would you like to join me for some tea?” You asked since he was so kind to you. He rose a brow at you in shock by your invite. “Or you can have some wine or ale. Whatever your choice is, it's yours.” You added just realizing now how ridiculous it is, that a knight will drink some tea.
“Are you always this nice?” His question caught you by surprise. You noticed he was staring at you. His eyes had a pretty shade of blue, his nose and lips were thin.
“I try to be but now I’m thinking I should change that.” Felix saw how your eyes dropped down to the ground. “You shouldn’t. There’s not enough nice people in the seven kingdoms. I’m happy that I am guarding one of them.” You smiled at his words.
“Tea does sound good but I would prefer ale.” He told you as he rose up from the ground.
“Then you shall have ale, Ser Felix.”
The days went on and Ser Felix made it manageable. The servants seemed to be happy that you were talking again but once in a while they would find you staring off in the distance. Word of Sandor’s vicious attitude has gotten around the castle. Joffrey has grown to be more aggressive to the servants and to the people around him. You had refused to look at Joffrey and Sandor. It has been a few weeks and you haven’t spoken to either of them. Whenever you walked down the hallway, you kept your gaze ahead and if you happened to meet Sandor and Joffrey, you passed them like they didn’t exist. You ignored Joffrey as he taunted you while making your way with Ser Felix behind you.
Sandor kept staring at the new guard, Ser Felix was strapping a saddle on a horse. Sandor was behind a pillar as the servants came up to Ser Felix and handed him a large satchel. Sandor knew you were going to walk again, giving food out. He felt ridiculous for being jealous that you were going with the new guard instead of him. He always went with you when doing that. Sandor thought he could handle being Joffrey’s guard. He couldn't, it took all the strength in him to not strangle the prince. He had gotten used to sitting down with you and eating meals with you but Joffrey didn’t care if he ate or rested. Joffrey would call him a dog or worse snap his fingers at him and because of it. His attitude changed more, he was more angry.
He was furious that he was taken away from you. Furious that the new guard you had, is so close to you. Sandor had watched you and Ser Felix walking in the garden. You drank tea, while your guard drank a cup of ale. He kept updates on you, your servants were kind enough to fill him in. He felt horrible when they told him you barely ate and you weren't yourself but you were getting better now with Ser Felix. News of the prince of Drone arriving at King’s Landing had broken him. He was drinking in his new chambers that Joffrey provided him. It was half of a room now and the bed was uncomfortable. Sandor knows the prince will wed you and will take you away from here. Away from him. Joffrey had taken him to a whorehouse to celebrate the prince coming to take you away. Joffrey did it to hurt him and it did. “Go find yourself a new bitch, dog.”
Sandor obeyed him and grabbed the nearest girl from her wrist. He didn’t look at her or asked her for her name. Sandor ignored the girl who was sitting on the bed waiting for him but he sat by the corner of the room with a cup of ale. The girl grew worried when Sandor didn’t move from his spot, he just kept staring at the ground as he drank. After an hour had passed and the girl flinched when Sandor finally rose up from his chair. The pitcher near him was empty and the sun was setting. He walked towards the bed and threw two silver coins near her.
“If they ask you, tell them I fucked you bloody. You hear me, girl? If you don’t say that. I’ll fucking kill you.” Sandor snapped at her and she nodded at him.
There was a relieved look on her face when she realized Sandor was really not going to do anything to her. He was about to walk out the room when he froze and grabbed a dragger from his belt. The girl let out a whimper when Sandor raised the dragger. She saw Sandor slicing the bottom edge of his palm, just enough for him to bleed. She flinched when Sandor walked towards her and yelped when he pushed her back and lifted her skirt. She felt him wipe his blood on inner thighs. She pushed herself up when Sandor left the room without saying another word. Sandor walked out of the whorehouse and saw Joffrey had waited for him outside the establishment, in a carriage. He brought the window down and had a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Sandor wanted to roll his eyes. Joffrey still hadn’t gotten used to the smell of the shit city.
“How was your new bitch?” Joffrey asked as Sandor walked closer to him. “Tight.” Sandor answered as he signaled Stranger to come forward. He just wanted to go back to his room and be alone. He wanted to sleep because at least he’s with you in his dreams.
Sandor watched as the new guard gave you a smile as you walked towards him, you were ready for the day. You had a light brown dress on. He left when you began to walk with the new guard. Trying to ignore the horrible gut feeling in his stomach. Few hours later he stood behind Joffrey as the prince was with his father in a council meeting. Robert was in the middle of talking when the door opened with a bang. One of the king's guards came running inside. Robert was about to yell at the guard when the guard announced something that turned Sandor’s blood cold.
“There was a riot, your grace. The princess was giving them food when it broke out. We found her guard, he’s been killed. Ripped limb from limb. We can’t find the princess.”
Robert rose from his seat and began to yell for every knight to search the city. “I want every house, every building searched.” He screamed as Marcella and Tommen were being comforted by Cersei.
“Stay here, dog.” Joffrey commanded him after Robert said every available knight must go. “My pri-“ “Stay put!” Joffrey yelled at Sandor cutting hm off as he looked out the balcony.
Sandor could hear the screams of the people as the knights barged into their homes. Flipping it inside out then leaving for the next spot. He knew the feeling in his gut was right, something bad did happened. His eyes widened when he saw Jamie Lannister and his group walking up the hill. Jamie was carrying you. You laid unconscious in his arms. Jamie had found you after an older woman and her daughter saved you and hid you in their house. Sandor stared at the woman and her daughter as they were brought into question. They stood in the middle of the court and explained Robert what had happened. Sandor looked down to see the daughter’s feet. She wore your shoes that you had gifted her.
“It’s the war, your grace. With barely enough food going around, they became crazy. Everything was going well. The princess was handling food when the people from flea bottom started to cut the line.”
The woman started to tear up as she continued. “She tried her best to calm them. She didn’t want the children to get hurt. They ignored her and took her guard. She tried to help him.”
“She cried out to them to stop as they began to beat him and started to pull his limbs.” The woman let out a deep breath. Her daughter rubbed her back for comfort.
“That’s when the riot broke out. The city split into two. Many tried to protect her, we love her, your grace” Robert stared at the woman below him as she confessed their love for you.
“We love the Princess. Is she alright? We are all worried for her.” The woman began to cry loudly as she fell on her knees in front of the court.
Sandor snuck into your bed chamber in the middle of the night when you haven’t woken up in two days. Robert usually left at night after spending his morning and afternoon in your room. Something changed in the drunken king after the incident with you. Robert punished the flea bottom for it, he gave rewards to anyone who knew who started the riot. Sandor shuts the door behind him carefully making his way towards you. He can hear your soft breathing. He freezes at the sight of you. You’re laying on your bed with your hands resting top on your stomach. He can see bruising on the right side of your face, they have washed you and clothed you in a nightgown. He couldn’t get rid of the sight of the light brown dress you had on earlier that day you left. It was bloody and caked with shit and dirt from the streets when they found you.
Sandor whispers your name. He knew he shouldn’t be in your room. He shouldn’t have come here but it was killing him not seeing you. Even if you weren’t speaking to him, he at least got to see you but now since you've been hurt. He hadn’t seen you at all. Sandor touches your hand, he brings one of your hands up to his lips. Kissing it and nuzzling into your palm as he leans down. He starts to breathe heavily as he cups his face with your hand.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers as he stares down at you. Your hand falls limp and he brings it back to his face, using his other hand to keep your hand in place. Knowing the maesters should be making their rounds soon. He leans down, close to your face. The bed dips under his weight. He says your name once more and kisses you on the lips. Sandor whines as he kisses you once more. Savoring it, since it will be the last time. He hoped you would wake up in time to get healed before the prince from Dorne arrived.
“I love you.” He whispered against your lips. Pouring everything he had left to give, he kissed you for the last time. He blinked the tears away and walked away from the bed. He gives you one last look over his shoulder before he leaves and continues to pretend that he doesn't love you. You woke up the next day and found your father sitting next to you. He had hugged you and kissed your forehead calling the maesters to come and check up on you. Your servants stood outside your chambers when Robert told you about the news of Ser Felix.
They cover their mouth with their hands to stop themselves from crying when they hear your cries. You let out a sob after learning what happened to him. You cried in your father’s arms at the horrible news of Ser Felix's death. Robert had you tell him everything from your point of view. He was happy when your story matched the same one from the woman. Robert had forbidden you to go back to the city, he had grown close to you as the days passed and it only made Joffrey more angry to the point that Sandor had witnessed Joffrey being the true monster he is. Sandor stood outside of the prince's chambers as the prince laughed loudly while he shot a whore in the leg with his bow and arrow. Sandor disposed of the body the next day and pretended nothing happened just like Joffrey did. Sandor only saw you when the family sat together eating dinner. It was the only time when Robert wanted to be seated together. Cersei and Joffrey had gotten annoyed at the fact that Robert wanted you close to him. Sandor watched as you barely ate but you drank more and more each day. You never looked up from your plate only when your father spoke to you. He can see the fake smile you gave everyone including the servants.
You gave the same fake smile when you were told the prince is making his way up to King’s landing.
The castle was going crazy the following day for the arrival of the Prince from Dorne. All morning your servants waited on you, they washed you, clothed you into one of the finest dresses you were gifted. You allowed them to place a diamond necklace around your neck as they rubbed oil on your arms and legs, you tried your best to be excited like they were but you just couldn't. You tried your best to be in a good mood but nothing was working. You had nightmares every night since you woke up. Your dreams would be flooded with the sight of Ser Felix being ripped apart, you started to imagine his screams and the sound of his flesh being torn. You can still recall the pushes and the slaps you received when you tried to break the riot apart. You had called out for Sandor, you screamed his name as the riot broke out. Thinking about it now, you felt ridiculous for shouting his name.
You felt nothing even when the prince walked towards you when you entered the great hall. It was dinner and he was the first to rise up from his seat. He was tall, had brown curls on top of his head and his eyes matched his hair color. His skin was tan and it went well with the yellow mustard robe he wore. You gave him a smile as he introduced himself, while grabbing a hold of your hand. He leans down to kiss your knuckles and you glanced behind him.
Catching Sandor’s gaze across the room, he quickly looked away and you did the same. The prince's name was Lewyn, second of his name. He sat across from you and you had to admit. He was very handsome. Speaking with Lewyn had eased your worry of not liking your husband to be. He was kind and respectful. You were surprised when he gave you his condolences about your guard, Ser Felix. Walking around the garden, he told you that he knew about the incident that had occurred. You immediately thought, he wouldn't want to join houses because of it. Your mother had screamed up a storm, telling you to stop with this excessive idea of helping the poor.
“To be honest, I thought the stories about you were lies.” He said and you froze next to him. He turned to face you.
“The most kind and beautiful princess to have ever lived.” You blushed hard at his words. “The stories are true and I'm happy because of it. I need a good and kind woman by my side.” For a moment you had forgotten all about what happened the last few months as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. His lips were soft and he smelled like the sun and spices.
A celebration was in order according to Robert, House Baratheon and House Martell will be joining together. Robert had deemed that the celebration of your engagement will be the largest celebration the Seven Kingdoms will ever witness. The days passed and everyone was preparing for the celebration. The castle was being cleaned and decorated. Everyone who your father invited was coming to King's Landing. You greeted the Starks, Arryn, Greyjoy, Mormont, Tarly, Tyrell, Glover and more as they came to the celebration. Everything was overwhelming but you were grateful for Lewyn. As the days passed you grew closer to him, he never left you unattended. Walks around the gardens and eating meals together. He showed you books he had brought you about his home. The time you had a moment for yourself was at night. You stayed up staring at the ceiling as you thought about Sandor.
You haven't seen Sandor as Joffrey was doing god knows what. You touched your lips as you remembered the dream you had. You had dreamt that Sandor had come to your room in the middle of the night and kissed you. The dream felt so real, he kissed you and told you he had loved you. Shutting your eyes you traced your lips with your fingers as you placed the other hand on your chest. You can recall his smell and his warmth. You imagine Sandor between your legs. You cupped your breasts, imagining it was Sandor’s large hands. You let out a whine as you pulled your nipple over your nightgown as you remembered the last time you were intimate with him. Your cunt clenched around the nothingness as you remembered his cock going in and out of you. Taking your hand from your lips, you bring it under the covers and under your nightgown. You moaned when you touched your clit, you whispered his name as you remembered how good his fingers felt, how good his tongue felt on your cunt.
“Sandor!” You cry out as you slip your finger inside of you.
The night ended and the sun rose, it was the morning of the celebration. The official announcement of your engagement. Robert wanted you to have this since your wedding will be held in Drone. Lewyn wished for you to be married in his home and you accepted it. You knew you couldn’t get married in the same room with Sandor. You were woken a bit later by your servants who came inside your chambers to get you ready. The morning seems like a blur to you, you allowed them to fawn over you. While they dressed you one of the servants gave you a note from Prince Lewyn. His words made you smile but you felt nothing. He wished you a good morrow and he will count the seconds until he gets to see you again.
“This seems a bit too much.” You said as you stood in front of the door of the great hall while looking at the decorations hanging by the door. You were unaware of your uncles behind you. Jamie who stood with Tyrion just smiled at you.
“Is that so?” Tyrion said as he stepped near you. He was dressed in red and golden robe while Jamie wore his golden armor. Giving a warm smile to your uncles, he asked you to kneel down. You tried your best with the dress you had on.
“You’re not like us, child.” You frowned and he continued. “I'm so happy you aren't. You're different and I pray that you will live a happy life in Drone.”
“You think I will live a happy life?” You asked him and he nodded. You don't believe him as you stood up with the help of Jamie who lent you his arm.
“Your husband-to-be, shall be standing near your father. Just walk towards the throne.” Jamie said as the servants came in to fix the train of your dress. Jamie kissed you on the cheek and wished you good fortune.
They handed you a bouquet of flowers as you heard the music start to play. The guards opened the doors and you looked ahead. Everyone's eyes were on you as you walked to the throne. Your hands shook but you continued on. You can see Eddard Stark along with his wife standing. They gave you a nod as the guards announced your name. Lewyn stood below the steps of the throne where your father sat. He smiled when you made eye contact with him. He was dressed in beautiful silver and white dress robes. It matched with your dress. He gives you his arm and helps you walk up the steps.
“You're absolutely breathtaking.” He whispered to you as both of you stood in front of your father.
Sandor watched with a heavy heart as you walked to your husband-to-be. The gown trailed behind you and the diamond necklace around your neck shined with every step you took. The guards and servants whispered amongst themselves about your appearance, calling you an angel. Robert made a speech about the houses joining together, you tried to look at the prince but your eyes wanted to look over at your family side, for you hoped to see Sandor. Lewyn leaned towards you to whisper in your ear after Robert’s speech.
“Your father mentioned to me that you are close with the people of King’s Landing. He didn't want you walking around anymore. I was able to do something since this will be their last chance to see you.” Lewyn said as he held your hand and walked with you down the hall.
Walking to the front doors of the castle, he gently squeezed your hand as he waved the guards to open the doors of the castle. The moment the doors opened you can hear cheering and your name being shout. You let go of his hand as you walked forward seeing the people of King’s Landing standing out of the castle. Knights were lined up as a wall, keeping the large crowd back. The people in King's Landing grew silent when you stepped closer to them. They haven’t seen you in weeks after the riot, they stood staring at you in complete awe by the way you’re dressed. A smile appeared on your face and you chuckled in shock at the amount of people who showed up. You waved at them and the silence disappear, they cheered loudly as you waved at them. They shouted the word princess over and over again as they waved their hands and arms. They threw flowers at your feet. Robert stood behind you as he watched in disbelief by how much the people loved you but that's why you were called the Realm's Delight.
It soon changed when the crowd started to push the knights back trying to get closer to you. There was a shout and the knights a few feet in front of you fell back, the crowd pushed forward. Robert yelled at the knights to keep formation.
“PRINCESS!” You gasped when people started to run towards you. Robert pushed you behind as Jamie started to run towards the crowd. One man had managed to go under the knights and threw himself at your feet. Leywen gathered you in his arms pulling you back, you almost tripped on the train of your dress. The man was about to touch your dress when there was a rough growl and a tall frame came between you and the man.
You watched as Sandor grabbed the man from the back of his shirt. Growling at his face, Sandor gave him a glare. “You dare to touch her.” Sandor snapped as he grabbed a hold of the man’s neck, pulling him up. The servants and the Lords and ladies gasped.
“Sandor! Please! Stop it. Don’t hurt him.” You shouted, pushing yourself away from Leywen, reaching for Sandor’s arm. Sandor drops the man when he feels you grab a hold of his arm. He looks at you and takes a step back. The man is gasping for air on the floor.
“Y/n!” Cersei shouted pushing the ladies out of her way when she saw you leaning over the gasping man.
“Are you alright?” You asked as you helped the man who still on his knees. You ignored the muttering behind you from the lords and ladies when you offered your hand to him, a commoner.
“Get away from him.” Cersei forcefully pulled you back making you wince from her gripped.
“Throw him away!” Cersei shouted at Sandor. He glances over at you for a second, taking in your facial expression. He looked away when Leywen walked in front of you. The prince looked over at you, taking your face in his hands.
It was two days after the celebration when Sandor was told of the news of the war. Robert’s brother was going to attack soon again. One of Lord Varys’ spies had found out and Robert was getting ready. Sandor stood behind Joffrey when he received the news that Joffrey will be joining them as well. The blonde looked shocked by it.
‘What do you mean?” Joffrey asked as Robert grabbed his sword.
“You're heir to the throne and you haven't fought once in battle. Do you want to sit this out and add more fuel to what the people are saying?” Joffrey glared at his father.
“I don't care what they have to say about me. I am heir to the iron throne and I can send men in my place.” Robert walked close to him and signaled Sandor to leave the room. He bowed and obeyed, he stood behind the door as Robert yelled at Joffrey.
The rumors after your celebration had spread throughout the entire kingdom. A rumor that had the council worry. Sandor decided to walk to the armory of the castle. Knowing since Joffrey was going to go, he will have too as well. Sandor isn't afraid of war, he has been in them since he was kid. He looked at the swords and the shields hanging on the walls.
“Sandor.” He turns when he hears you behind him. You were standing by the entrance. He looks away from you. “Have I angered you so much that you won't even look at me?” Sandor doesn't know what to say.
“I'm truly sorry for whatever I have done. I'm sorry.” He made no response because you were going to leave soon. The prince from Drone had gone back home to start preparing for your arrival and the wedding. You looked happy with the prince, he couldn't take that away from you. Not after he broke you, he tells himself.
“At least look at me before I leave. I wish to see you one more time.” Sandor shuts his eyes when he feels your hand on his arm. He turns to you and looks down at you. He won't say anything but he will look at you, giving you your last wish before you leave.
“I want to hate you.” Sandor’s eyes shot open at your words. You gave him a face and repeated it again.
“I want to hate you. I should hate you.” You cried out slapping his chest with all your might.
“Hate me then.” Sandor said, grabbing a hold of your wrists and holding them.
“You’re a fucking coward, you know that.” You hissed at him trying to pull away from him but he kept his grip on you tight. Sandor laughs at your face, “Coward, you say.”
“The coward is your fucking brother.” Sandor said, making you shake your head.
“He isn't my brother. He's my half brother. I'm nothing like him.” You snapped at him and Sandor pushed you against the wall. He released your wrists and caged you with his arms.
“You aren't.” Sandor whispered as he stared at you. You don't flinch when he brings his hand to touch your cheek.
“You ain't nothing like them. Not like your mother who fucks her brother. Not like your devil of a brother. You're kind. You're good, so good.” You held on to his arms as he touched your cheek, you missed his touch.
“You bring that good to Drone, you hear me. Don’t fucking change.” Sandor tells you softly, making you frown. “I don't want to go to Drone. I want to stay here with you. You made me do this. You made me do it. I did it for you so you wouldn't get punished.” Sandor steps away from you and you quickly go to the entrance, blocking his path.
“I did it for you because I love you, Sandor Clegane. We still have a chance. We can still run away.” Sandor looks at you with hope for a second.
“I have to get ready for the battle. I'm going with your brother.” You looked so distraught by this news.
“Leave with me, please. Right now.” Sandor shook his head at you. “If I leave before the battle, they will know. They will look for me. Joffrey will have my head.”
“Joffrey has never gone to any battle before. I don't even think he knows how to swing a sword. Why is he even going?” You asked and Sandor looks at you with furrowed brows.
“You don't know?” He asked you. “I would have thought Little Finger would have told you already.”
“Told me what?” Sandor stared at you. “The people want you to be their queen. Not your bastard brother.” You stared at him shocked.
“I don't understand. The realm will never accept a woman on the throne.” You told him, making him shake his head.
“That was before, now they would rather have you on it. They want you. They have started calling you the rightful heir to the throne. You have done more than Joffrey. Your father is taking him tomorrow to the battle so the people in the realm can see him.” Sandor told you.
“That day..” Sandor stops in mid and grabs your hand with his. “You should have seen them. Robert saw they loved you but he didn't realize how much. Then you gave your hand out to that man, to help him. A princess helping a commoner. The street started to shout your name and they called you the true heir. The rumor that Cersei and Jamie tried so hard to cover has exploded. The people started to shout bastard at the sight of Joffrey.”
“My father doesn't believe them, though?” You asked. “ I don't know. The council suggested for him to take Joffrey. He has to do this because half of the army is on your side now.” You frowned.
“They will serve for the true heir of the throne. A true Baratheon.”
Sandor felt you grasp his hand and pull him closer to you. “After the battle then? I thought I could go to Drone without you but I can't. My heart refuses to leave you behind.”
“I won’t watch you marry him.” Sandor said, making you chuckle. “I'm not marrying him. The moment I'm on the road I'm escaping.”
Sandor frowned as you told him your plan to escape. “You're crazy. You won't survive by yourself.”
“I only need to survive until I make it 100 miles from Winterfell. Eddard Stark has granted me safe haven until I figure out where to go.”
“You believe him?” Sandor shouts in disbelief. “He knows of us.” Sandor is left speechless.
“After the celebration, I was walking in the gardens. I never felt more alone that day. He found me crying, we spoke about what happened with the crowd and it just slipped out. He swore to me he wouldn't say a word. All I have to do is send a raven and he has promised to meet me halfway to escort me back to Winterfell.”
‘If it's a trap?” Sandor asked angrily. “I don't care. As long as I'm with you.” You answered him.
“I’ll leave you now. My offer still stands. You will make me the happiest woman if you do come with me, I’ll wait after the battle. I don't know what I have done to you. What I have said but I'm sorry and I love you. I will always love you, Sandor. If this was all just a ruse so you can get your dick wet then enjoy your whore and farewell.”
Sandor screamed at himself as he watched you walk away. He wanted to run after you. His feet remained glued to the floor. ‘Whore?’ he asked himself. ‘What whore?’ You were the last person he's been with, your lips were the last he has kissed. Sandor manages to break free and begins to walk out of the room and down the hallway. He looks both ways in hope to see you. He's about to walk to your chambers when he hears Joffrey behind him, coming to a halt he turns to see the prince.
“Father, has lost his mind, Dog! He wants us to go tonight. Says I need the experience.” Sandor watches as Joffrey walks towards him with a frown.
“All because of my bitch sister!” Joffrey yelled. Sandor’s jaw clenched. “This is all because of her. I hate her.”
“The realm wants a whore who fucks second born sons sitting on the throne.” Joffrey spawned out with hatred.
Sandor's body has been acting on its own. First holding his feet froze as you left and now his hand is resting on the hilt of his sword. He stared at Joffrey as he tightened his grip on it while Joffrey kept calling you a whore. With one swing, he can kill Joffrey and go to your room. Both of you could run away, go to Winterfell then go to Braavos. He will be free and tell you everything. He will tell you everything and he will be happy.
Sandor wants to be happy with you.
“Prince Joffrey!” Sandor drops his hand when Jamie comes walking towards them. “Your horse is ready. We leave now. Your father is waiting for you.” Jamie told him.
“Very well.” Joffrey answers and signals Sandor to come with him.
You were looking out the window when you saw your father walking to the stable. You frown when you see the knights do the same. You thought they would leaving tomorrow. You ran out of your chambers and searched for your servants. You found her looking out the balcony outside of your chambers.
“What's happening?” You asked her and she told you Robert decided to get to the field early so they can have an advantage.
“The rest of the army will join them at morrow.” She said before walking you back to your chambers. You drank tea that night, trying to ease the unwell feeling in your stomach. You paid no mind to it, you had to get ready to leave. You couldn't sleep that night, the thought of Sandor on the field with your half-brother. Knowing Joffrey, he would make Sandor protect him while he hides away. Packing a light bag the next morning, you grabbed the letter to Eddard Stark. Quickly walking out, you noticed your servants and the guards down the hallway were gone. How strange, it was.
Out of breath from running, you watched as the raven flew with the letter attached to its leg. You prayed it would make it in time. Walking out of the room, you heard yelling. Making your way to the kitchen, you saw the cooks huddle together as they looked out the door.
“What's going on?” You asked and they yelped in surprise. They greeted you with a small bow.
“Tell me at once, what's happening?” You asked worriedly.
“It's the other knights princess. They don't want to go! They refuse to fight with your bastard brother.” One of the cooks gasped when she let out the word bastard.
“Forgive me, pri-” You cut her off by shaking your head. “I know, I know all about it.” You told them, making their eyes widen.
“It's true.” You said with a nod. “But my father still needs them to win this war.” You said pushing the cooks out of the way with the small bag over your shoulder.
You can hear them shouting for you to come back. Making your way to the stable, you saw the stable boy. You begged him to prepare a horse for you, you were in dire need to get to the rest of the knights who were refusing to go and fight. The stable boy and the cooks watched as you began to ride to the front gates of King’s Landing.
You saw the golden armor of the King’s guard, it was Jamie second in command. He was arguing with one of the knights as they stayed still. The moment they saw you, they froze. “Princess,” the second in command bowed.
“Why haven't they moved? The battle can be happening now and my father and Sa-” You stopped yourself, you were going to say Sandor’s name. They couldn't know why you were doing this.
“We won't fight with that bastard Joffrey.'' One of the knights yelled and the rest cheered. “How dare you call the heir to the throne a bastard!” Jamie’s second in command yelled.
“He’s right.” You said and he looked over at you, shocked by what you said. You would have to tell them the truth. It was the only way to help Sandor and your father. Without them, you fear the war will be lost. Gripping the reins of the horse tightly, you took a deep breath and looked over at the knights ahead of you.
“You are all right!” You yelled with all your might.
“Joffrey is a bastard. His father is Jaime Lannister. You won’t fight for him but I beg you to fight for me. Fight for me!” You cried out.
“And when we win this war against Stannis, I will speak with my father. If what you say is true, you want me to be your queen. I’ll do it! I’ll be your queen and I'll rule the seven kingdoms with fairness and with just. You will no longer be hungry, no longer shall you worry about how to survive because I will be your queen. A true Baratheon will sit on the Iron Throne. Will you fight this war for me?!”
You let out a deep breath when they shouted amongst themselves.
“FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!! FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!”
Jamie’s second in command was astounded as the knights began to get on their horses. “Will you stand by my side as we bring them to my father?” You asked him with hope he will accept.
He nodded at you. “For our future Queen.”
Sandor felt like he was sinking under water and his head was ringing. He didn’t see that knight coming at him. Too busy keeping Joffrey safe. His helmet was long gone, he used it to break someone's jaw when he dropped his sword.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Robert’s army should’ve been here. Stannies had decided to attack the moment they saw Robert’s army coming at dawn. Sandor felt Joffrey behind him. Jamie had shouted for the rest of the remaining king’s guard to hold their post.
“Dog!” Joffrey’s voice echoed in his mind.
He felt Joffrey hitting Sandor’s on the back. Sandor looked over his shoulder and grabbed Joffrey’s Valyrian steel sword from his hand and swung it across the man near him. Joffrey's mouth dropped open when Sandor completely decapitated the man’s head in one single blow.
“JOFFREY!” Jamie yelled. Sandor watched his back as Jamie yelled at Joffrey to go back to base. They had to retreat, they were losing men by the minute.
“Where’s your father?” Sandor growled as he looked ahead, ready for anyone to get near with Joffrey’s sword in his hand. “I don’t know. You keep this.” Jamie said, handling Joffrey a dagger.
“I’m not going back.” Joffrey hissed at his uncle. Jamie frowned, “There are not enough men. We have to retreat.”
“Take him with you.” Sandor snapped at Jamie as a group of men started to head towards them. Jamie grabbed Joffrey by the neck ignoring his shouts to release him.
Sandor can hear the galloping behind him. Sandor let out a deep breath as he relaxed his nervousness. Sandor Clegane was nervous, he didn’t think he would survive this time. The cut on his arm hurts like a bitch. His head is ringing, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of you on a horse, the horse is standing on the far edge of a cliff across the field.
Sandor was so busy looking at you, he didn’t see the man coming at him. Before he could see the man, a horse passed him, taking the man down. The rider had stabbed the man in the head.
“Clegane.” Robert shouted as he rode towards him. Robert had just saved him.
Before he could answer, there was a horn that caused them to stop for a second. Robert had sweat dripping down his forehead, blood of his enemies was dripping down his armor. He looks across the field and his dark eyes widened when he saw the other half of his army riding in. There was hope that they would win this war. In the corner of his eyes, he saw two horses standing by the cliff. He saw it was the second in command of the King’s guard and you. You’re on a white horse, staring down at the field. A smile appeared on his tired face, you, his daughter had brought his knights to him.
They won the war because of you. Robert and his men rode back to base. He frowned when he saw Joffrey's horse standing by the King's tent.
“Where’s my son?!” He shouted. Robert noticed the angry look on the knights' faces when Joffrey walked out of the tent. Joffrey stood still when he saw Robert getting off his horse and walking towards him.
“Where were you? You hid?” Robert shouted. Joffrey glared about to say something when they heard the rest coming. Joffrey was seething when he saw you riding first into base with the second in command. The army you brought rode behind you.
Robert watched as you rode near him. Without a single thought, Robert helped you get down off of your horse. The knights around you stood up from their seats.
“I had to do it. It was the only way for them to come.” You whispered to Robert, looking at Joffrey by the tent.
“Do what?” Robert asked, cupping your face.
“They came here because they fought for me, father. I must tell you something and you have to believe me. Please, let’s go inside.” You said grabbing your father’s hand and tugging him to the tent.
“What are you doing here?” Joffrey yelled as he walked towards you. “This has nothing to do with you.” You said taking a step back when you saw the craziness in his eyes.
“Father-.” “Pleas-.”
Robert hushed both of you as the knights began to shout amongst themselves. “Go inside. I’ll be back to discuss this matter.” Robert tells you before walking to the group of knights.
You passed Joffrey and walked into the tent. “You just had to be here.”
You ignored Joffrey and stood at the far end of the tent. “Just because you brought the rest of the army, you think you’re better than me?” Joffrey asked as he came to the table where the maps were laid out.
“You’re nothing, sister. I count the days where you leave for Drone. I pray to the gods you get sick on your travels and die.” You look at Joffrey.
“Fuck you.” You spat at him and there was a look of pure anger in his eyes. It scared you because you never saw him like this.
“He’s dead, you know.” Joffrey said, walking around the table trying to get closer to you.
“What?” Joffrey nods at you with a smile. “I saw that fucking dog you love so much go down. The sword was rammed in his chest.” You felt your chest tighten by Joffrey’s words. You shook your head, not believing it. Sandor was a good fighter, one of the best swordsmen in the seven kingdoms.
“You’re lying!” You yelled and walked further away from Joffrey.
“Then go out to the field and see him for yourself. He’s dead. He did his job to protect me. You can have him back now. I have no use for him anymore.” Joffrey lied to get that reaction he’s been craving. He smiled when he saw you crying.
“No!” You cried as you covered your mouth. You’re about to walk out of the tent to see it for yourself. “You aren’t going anywhere.” Joffrey screamed and grabbed a hold of your arm, pulling you back inside.
He pushed you against the table and you let out a whimper when you felt the cold steel of his dagger under your chin.
“Tell me the truth? Is he really dead?” Joffrey just sighs at you as he pushes the tip of the dagger under your chin making you wince. He smiles when he sees he cut your skin, a trail of blood starts to run down the blade of his dagger.
“He is dead. You want to know what his last words were?” Joffrey asked with a smile as tears ran down your face.
“He said. Fuck the whore princess.” Joffrey laughed at you. Joffrey's smile disappeared when you slapped him across the face making him cry out.
“Fuck you! You fucking bastard.” You yelled at him. Joffrey growled and you let out a gasp when you felt Joffrey’s hand hold your shoulder.
Looking at Joffrey’s face, you felt frozen for a moment. The anger on his face washed away and a look of panic came across his face. He took a step back and looked down at your chest. Following his gaze, you looked down and saw the hilt of the dagger. Taking a breath, the pain came rushing through you. He stabbed you in the chest with the dagger. Joffrey shook his head as he looked at you.
“Joffrey.” You cry out and fall down on your knees as you cry out in pain. Joffrey ran out of the tent leaving you behind. You were left alone, you looked down to see blood start to stain the front of your dress. You can feel the blood flowing down your body, you let out a moan of pain with each breath you took.
You didn’t even hear the commotion outside of the tent as you fell to the ground on your back. You stared at the ceiling of the tent as you cried. Your vision grew blurry, you didn’t hear someone coming in. You didn’t hear the shouts and the sound of someone walking inside. Blinking the tears, you were met with your father’s face. You see his lips moving but no words are coming out.
You feel so cold now. You let out a groan when you felt someone grabbing a hold of you. Robert started to cry as he held you in his arms.
Robert shook his head when he saw you were trying to speak but blood started to come out of the corner of your mouth. He flinched when you started to cough up blood. The only thing you can do is stare up at him. You were dying and it brought tears to your eyes. You were dying and he wouldn’t know what happened. Robert felt your hand on his cheek as you used all the strength you had left in you.
“Joff- ery.” Robert frowned when you spoke. "Joffrey."
“Jof-fery did it. H-he is a-a bastard.” You cried as your vision grew dark. “He is a bastard.” Robert felt you go limp in his arms after you said those words.
He calls out your name as he picks your head up. Something broke Robert in half and he relived the day he was told that Lyanna Stark was murdered. A scream came from inside the tent that made Robert’s army freeze. They all saw how the prince came running out bumping into his father. Robert had commanded Joffrey to stay put and that he will have a word with him after he spoke with you. Jamie yelled at Joffrey to come back when he saw Joffrey mounting the nearest horse. Joffrey rode out as Sandor came walking with a group, he had retrieved his sword and walked back to the base. He stopped when he saw Joffrey riding away and looked ahead when he heard a scream.
Sandor quickly walked to the white horse he saw you on. He began to breathe quickly when he saw you weren’t on it. He looked around and flinched when he heard Robert’s scream once more. Everyone looked at the tent, all frozen because they never heard Robert scream like this. Sandor shouted your name, not caring what people would think or say. He had to find you. He shouted once more before walking inside of the tent passing Jamie.
Sandor froze when he entered. He took a step back bumping into Jamie. The King Slayer gasped when he saw the sight of Robert holding your dead body in his arm. Robert sobbed against your neck. Sandor watched how your body trembled with each sob Robert made. Your eyes were open and staring at ceiling. Arms flared out, blood started to pool on the ground and cover Robert’s armor but he didn’t care. Your father held you in his arms.
Jamie saw the dagger in your chest when Robert pulled away from you to move your hair out of your face.
“Where is he?” Robert hissed. Sandor and Jamie remained silent. “Where is that blonde bastard?” The look of absolute fear appeared on Jamie’s face.
The knights outside quickly hushed down when they saw Sandor walk out of the tent. He dragged his sword on the ground as he walked to the nearest tree. Dropping the sword completely he ignored the questions thrown at him. They all looked at themselves when they saw The Hound with tears rolling down from his face. Sandor was in complete shock. His bottom lip trembled as he cried.
“Where is he?” Robert shouted in the tent and Jamie came out walking backwards. Robert had his sword aimed at him.
“This is a mistake. Joffrey wouldn’t do this.” Jamie explained but the look in Robert’s eyes. Jamie knew it was no use, Robert wanted revenge.
“Arrest him.” Robert yelled looking at his men. “Wait-this has nothing to do with me.” Jamie yelled as they tackled him down to the ground. Sandor looked over his shoulder when he heard Robert.
“The person who brings me Joffrey Lannister will be rewarded.” Robert's words rang out and the sound of Jamie screaming no was all that Robert needed. You told him the truth. A few knights had begun to ride back to King’s Landing.
Joffrey was indeed a bastard.
Sandor felt like an empty shell as he rode back to King's Landing. The cut on his arm was numbed, the banging in his head was nothing compared to the emptiness he felt in his heart. His blood shot eyes were glued to the wagon a few feet in front of him. Robert rode his horse as he led another with a wagon attached to it. He laid you there when they started to get ready to ride back. The knights that stayed bowed their heads when Robert came out of the tent with you in his arms. Robert covered you with a blanket, his hands shook as he checked you were strapped in.
Sandor can see the outline of your body, your body moved whenever there was a bump in the road. He had shut his eyes when he saw the blood seeping through the blanket. Robert decided to ride through the gates of the back of the castle. The servants and stable boys were all waiting to tend the wounded and the horses. Robert got off his horse and saw Cersei walking towards him with a frown when she noticed Jamie was chained.
“What is the meaning of this? Joffrey has barricaded himself in his room. He won’t open the door. My brother has been arrested.” Cersei yelled at him. She was met with a slap across her face that made her fall to the ground.
“Is Joffrey mine?” Robert asked, looking down at her. Cersei’s eyes widened in surprise but she hid it with a look of anger.
“Don’t you fucking lie to me.” Cersei flinched under his gaze and looked away. She looked ahead at his horse and noticed a wagon with a body on it.
“That bastard killed my daughter.” Robert yelled, grabbing Cersei by the hair and dragged her to the wagon. Cersei yelled in pain as he dragged her over. Robert ripped the blanket off of your body and pushed Cersei down on her knees in front of you. All she did was stare as the servants behind her scream in terror at the sight of you. Your servants began to cry and fell on their knees from shock.
Cersei just stared in shock, Robert grew angry when she didn't show any emotions. Cersei yelped when Robert grabbed a hold of her blonde hair again. Jamie screamed across from, screaming at Robert to let her go.
“Your grace, what's the meaning of this?” Jon Arryn, the hand of the King said as he walked along with the maester to Robert.
Jon Arryn froze when he saw you. He looked at Robert and at Cersei on the floor. Robert kept staring at her as Jon started to yell at everyone to leave. The stable boys grabbed the horses and brought them to the stables while the servants tried to cover their cries.
“Chain her with her brother.” Robert told Jon Arryn. The news of your death was not announced until two days later. Those two days seemed to be a nightmare to most. Robert had caused a rampage in the castle. Jamie and Cersei Lannister were arrested. Robert had the doors of Joffrey’s chambers broken down and the knights grabbed a hold of the blonde boy. They found him hiding under his bed. He screamed with all his might as they dragged him down the hall. Tommen and Marcella were kept guarded in the Red Keep, they had Jon Arryn to thank for. Robert had become ruthless and wanted every Lannister executed including the children.
Sandor stayed in his room those two days. He locked himself. He ignored the shouts and the screams from Joffrey who was being dragged to the dungeons. He ignored the knocks from your servants. He didn’t want to see anyone. He didn’t want to speak to anyone. He laid on his bed, covering his face with his pillow as he sobbed. He screams into the pillow trying to cover the sound. He cried until he fell asleep and woke up to do it all over again.
He shouted at the person to fuck off when he heard a knock on the third day. His throat was sore from the screams.
“It’s me, Sandor. It’s Ned Stark.” Sandor froze as Ned knocked once more. “I need to speak with you.” Sandor rose up from his bed and walked to the door.
Sandor notices Ned has been crying as well. His eyes were red and he let the lord walk inside. Ned walked in, looking at the room before looking back at Sandor.
“Did she tell you-.” Sandor cuts Ned off with a nod as he shuts the door.
“Very well then. I’m sure she didn’t tell you but she wanted me to tell you in case the plan fell through. She wanted me to give you a place in Winterfell, if you want too. Since Joffrey is still kept in the dungeon, you can come back with us after the funeral. I will arrange for some of my men to escort you to Winterfell unseen.” Sandor frowned.
“She asked you?” Ned nodded with a small smile. “She knows you've been treated unfairly by Joffrey. She wrote to me before her death, in case something happened to please have a place for you. She loved you, I didn’t understand it at first but the way she spoke about you. She called you a good man, a man with honor.”
Sandor shook his head. “I’m not a good man. I broke her heart because Joffrey threatened to have us exposed. He threatened to have her executed for being with me. For being with a dog, a second born son. It’s my fault she died. It’s all my fault.” Ned watched in silence as Sandor sat down on his bed and covered his face with his hands.
“You didn’t kill her. Joffrey did. It’s not your fault. In the end, I know for a fact she knew you still loved her. She had to know because why would she send me a letter asking for safe haven for you if she couldn’t make it.”
“The Lannister's trial will start soon. I don’t know about you but I can’t wait to see their faces. Robert's decision is final on them.” Ned told him and left the room leaving Sandor in his thoughts.
The trial ended with Jamie and Tyrion sent to the wall for their remaining days, it was thanks to their father, Tywin Lannister. He had rode to King’s landing demanding for his children's freedom but at the end. Tywin had begged for his sons to not be executed.
“Kill all the bastards, for all I care.” Tywin said, ignoring Cersei's cries. “And your whore daughter?”
Tywin looked at Robert and picked a decision that will haunt him for the rest of his life. “Do what you like, your grace. This is the last time she will tarnish the Lannister's name.”
Before the trial ended, Robert called out for Tywin. “Take your sons to the wall, Lord Lannister and stay there with them.” Tywin’s face fell, all the Lannister's were punished for Joffrey’s doing.
For the first time, the people in King’s Landing didn’t push and shove to see you or touch you. They stood in silence, some cried and others just watched as the knights carried your body in an open carriage. You laid on a bed of flowers, you wore a black and golden color dress as a tribute to your House. Your hands laid on top of your stomach as you laid there peacefully.
Making it to the Red Keep, the knights carried you inside where the realm can give you their last goodbye to you. Everyone had gone home when Sandor visited you. He dropped his shoulders and he felt the tears well up in his eyes at the sight of you laying so still in the middle of the keep. Lit candles surrounded you and you had golden coins laid on top your eyes. He removed his sword and wineskin from his belt, placing it by the wall as he walked towards you.
His hands shook as he tried to reach for your hand. He flinched when he felt how cold you were and stiffed. He grabbed it, ignoring it and bringing it up to his lips.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your knuckles. “I’m sorry, Princess.” He cries out. After a few minutes, Sandor clears his throat after saying his goodbyes to you. “I’m not going to Winterfell. We were supposed to go together.” He gently puts your hand back in place.
Before Sandor leaves, he looks down at you once more. “I love you. I will always love you.”
Grabbing his sword and wineskin, he shuts the doors behind and walks down the steps of the Red Keep, he ignores the two bodies stung up across from him. He had no need to see Joffrey and Cersei again. He walked to the stable to find Ned and his men. Sandor walked to Stanger, giving his head a rub before looking at Ned.
“Are you sure?” The Lord of Winterfell asked him. Sandor nodded at him.
“He just needs some time when it comes to new people. He’s a war horse, fast and strong.” Ned nodded before reaching his hand out for Stranger to smell it.
“We will take good care of him. Rob, my oldest needs a good horse. I swear Stranger will be well taken care of.” Sandor gives Ned the reins of Stranger and pats him once more as goodbye. Sandor watches as Ned and his men begin to travel back to the North. He wasn't worry about giving Stranger away, Sandor knew Ned will be true to his word. Stranger will be taken care of by his new owner.
Sandor doesn't tell anyone where he’s going off too. He walks out of King's Landing and walks through the forest to the edge of the cliff where he saw the sun was setting. Removing his sword and wineskin, he sits down and leans back against the tree as he remembers the sound of your laughter. This is the place, the place where you kissed him for the first time. You had managed to convince him to take you out after being cooped up in the castle. He was sitting on a rock as you gave him a wineskin out of your bag. It was out of nowhere but you had walked towards him catching him by surprise and you were at the perfect height to kiss him.
Sandor grabs the wineskin he brought and brings it up to his nose to smell it. He looks ahead at the scenery with a smile. Maybe it was the gods showing him a vision, or perhaps it was all in his head but he can see himself with you at the same spot on the rock where you kissed him. He had returned those kisses, gathering you up in his arms and both of you stayed there for a while. He forced himself to drink the wine as he stared ahead watching the sunset. He wanted to be with you. Throwing the empty wineskin, he looks down at his hands. His eyesight blurred and he looked up to find himself back in your room.
“Your hands are huge, Sandor.” He looks to his right to see you under the covers, naked. He notices the look on your face, the love bites on your chest were fresh. He lets you grab a hold of hand and compares it with yours.
“My hands aren’t not huge. You're just small.” Sandor comments as you raise his hand with your up in the air as the sunlight of the morning shined through the window of your chambers. Sandor had grabbed your hand and rolled over on top of you making you laugh as he kissed your neck.
Ser Gregor stood next to Sandor’s body. They finally found him after four days later when he received news of Sandor's disappearance. His men found him, found his body laying against a tree, with the sun beaming down on him. One of his men brought the wineskin near Sandor's body to Ser Gregor. Bringing it up to his nose, Ser Gregor makes a face when he smells the poison.
“Let’s take him back home.” Ser Gregor said, looking down at his younger brother one more time. It's the first time he had seen his brother so at peace. Sandor had died with a smile on his face.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
<- Chapter 2
Taglist: @federalclassroom @snixx2088 @just-a-burning-memory @darknight3904 @watercolorskyy @@nothing2113 @thyjinji @norakbubbles @mrs-marvel-addict @ellesmythe
#sandor clegane#sandor clegane x reader#games of thrones#sandor the hound clegane#sandor clegane fanfic#games of thrones x reader#games of thrones fanfiction#rory mccann#angst#sandor clegane angst#sad#sadgirl#death#tw death
682 notes
·
View notes