CONTAINS ➤ 1.7k+ words. fem!reader. established relationship. fluff. reader has anxiety. ☁︎ featuring: jason todd.
┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ NOTE ➤ dipping my toe into the batfam universe.
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─── ❅ It had been seven whole hours. As in four-hundred and twenty minutes. Jason’s arms were filled to the brim with bags from countless stores as you flitted between people hoping to get to your next destination.
He was quickly regretting inviting you to his family's Christmas get together. Not because he was ashamed of you but because the invite had immensely stressed you out. As soon as he had gotten the words out, you had flown into a flurry about finding the perfect outfit, getting gifts for everyone and making a good impression.
You had met some of his family already, Tim, had once accidentally on purpose ended up at Jason’s place waking up to a piping hot cup of tea and a well-balanced lunch. You had originally intended to prepare some breakfast but Jason had warned you that he’d be out for at least twelve hours.
From then on Tim had decided you were an angel sent from heaven to feed him proper meals and worry over him, much to Jason’s chagrin.
Dick, had also been a completely accidental meeting. Jason and you had been curtain shopping, a place he had been sure no one he knew would be at, since you had decided newspapers covering the windows weren’t enough. The newspaper would rip and tear every time Jason decided to use the window instead of the front door and you were tired of sun rays hitting you in the face every morning.
You had been happily browsing the aisle as Jason pushed the cart when you accidentally knocked into Dick. After that Dick refused to leave your side to question his brother’s ‘friend’ about why they were curtain shopping together. Jason almost punched Dick into a wall after his tenth wink in five minutes.
Other than that you hadn’t met most of Jason’s family causing you to even struggle to buy gifts for them. Jason was of no help insisting that you show up empty handed to the manor.
“Jason, for the last time, I am not going to show up to Wayne Manor empty handed. That is rude and I want to make a good impression,” you chastised, urging him to pick between the two gifts in your hands.
“I can kill someone so they’re all focused on me instead?” he offered, shrugging his shoulders like he hadn’t just said what he said.
“No, you are not going to put them in a bad mood before I can even get a word in,” your words came out smoothly immediately shutting him down.
Jason smiled at your words knowing that you never cared if he made threats against people’s lives. You weren’t going to judge him and you actually didn’t oppose his methods of cleaning up the streets. Crime Alley had been your home when you were younger and you knew everyone left with a scar, a trauma-filled story or in a bodybag. You’d never oppose the cleaning up of scum.
“They won’t care. They’ve only heard about you and they already like you more than they like me,” Jason whined as you entered yet another store.
“Fine, this will be the last store, I promise,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek before looking through the racks on display.
James sat outside the entrance finding an oddly shaped couch to settle on before carefully dropping the bags in his arms on the floor. He might’ve been tired of carrying them but he had noticed how anxious you had been all day. If it was important to you it was important to him as well.
He spent the next half hour staring at the wall ahead of him until he was notified of your presence by the sound of your voice calling his name.
“Ready?” he asked, picking up the bags from the floor as he stood up.
“Yes, let’s go to the food court. I bet you’re hungry after all that hard work,” your hand brushed his forearm lingering for a second before you squeezed it.
A smirk overtook his face but the tips of his ears turned red, “This is nothing sweetheart.”
Jason puffed out his chest lifting the bags higher as he showed off. Laughter escaped you as you saw his dramatics. It was cut short as you caught sight of some girls stopping in their tracks to stare at him.
You wrapped your arm around him, smushing yourself to his side. As if Jason couldn’t be more perfect he shifted all the bags on his left arm to his right before using his newly free arm to pull you closer. The girls walked off with sad sighs, the message you sent being received clearly.
It wasn’t long before you and Jason sat at a table filled with food, the variety making your mouth water.
“God, I love you,” you groaned as you took your first bite.
Jason cocked an eyebrow, “I’m going to pretend that was for me.”
He knew he had lost you as you hummed happily after every bite finishing your meal almost as fast as him. He watched as your eyes sparkled in joy and he made a promise to always keep you that way.
He watched your eyes catch on something to your left before you forcibly dragged your gaze back to your plate. He subtly looked for what had caught your eye before his eyes were pulled to a stand with one of your dream items being displayed outside the door.
“Oh, jeez,” your words snapped him out of his trance and he was met with the sight of a big greasy stain down the front of your shirt.
You sprung from your seat already dabbing the stain with a napkin, “I’m going to see if I can wash it out in the bathroom sink.”
Before Jason could reply you had already left the area. He took the opportunity to dash across the food court quickly buying the item that had caught your eye before hiding it amongst the other gifts.
He ensured of acting as normal as possible while he waited for you to exit the bathroom. You greeted him with a happy smile as the front of your shirt was sopping wet but free of any stain.
“I’m so glad we were so close to the bathroom the stain came right out,” you beamed showing off your clean shirt.
“That’s good. Come on, let’s head home,” he led you through the crowd internally brimming with excitement at the perfect gift he had managed to get you.
---------------------------
Jason’s arms were once again filled with gifts, now wrapped, as the both of you waited for the door to Wayne Manor to be opened. You continued to shift nervously beside him ready to flee if you had to.
Jason side-eyed you over the pile of gifts, “Relax, they already love you.”
“What if I mess this up? What if I accidentally offend them or something?” your questions continued until the sound of the doorknob turning caused you to clam up.
“Master Jason, Miss, welcome,” Alfred opened the large door bowing his head slightly in greeting as he gestured for you to enter.
“Thank you, Alfred,” your feet moved hesitantly as you stepped further into the foyer.
Jason led you towards the family room where the rest of his family was waiting for you both. Quiet whispers erupted from each of his siblings, some exchanging items under the coffee table while others stared at you like they believed you to be a hallucination.
Tim and Dick greeted you enthusiastically both hugging you briefly before returning to their spots.
Bruce moved to shake your hand, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine Mr.Wayne,” you shook his hand firmly wanting to stack up positive points in any way you could.
“Please, call me Bruce,” he corrected, smiling.
“Ok, Bruce it is,” you released his hand turning towards the feeling of someone’s eyes on you.
“I’m Stephanie and that’s Cass.”
“Hey, I’m Duke.”
“Damian.”
The four of them observed you in different ways. Stephanie seemed to be taking in the details of your outfit, memorizing certain details before landing back on your face. Cass sat with her head tilted slightly like she knew you weren’t a threat but didn’t know what to make of you besides that. Duke watched you carefully as if checking for any signs that you were uncomfortable, you were. Lastly, Damian watched you through calculating eyes ensuring that you were as non-threatening as Tim and Dick had made you out to be.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” you smiled in what you hoped was a cheery smile.
“Can we please open gifts already,” whined Stephanie watching the pile of gifts in Jason’s arms greedily.
“Of course,” Bruce agreed, taking his assigned seat on his favorite recliner.
The group began to divvy up the gifts by owner, surprising you with a gift from each of them. Jason was the last to give out your gifts, throwing them over to each of his siblings before placing the last one in front of you.
“Alright–” before Bruce could finish his sentence Damian, Stephanie and Jason began to rip open their presents prompting the rest of you to unwrap your own gifts.
“Oh my god!” Stephanie yelled, holding up your gift to the light, “They’re gorgeous! Thank you!”
“I’m glad you like them,” your anxiety eased at her reaction.
You watched around the room as Dick and Tim smiled at your gifts making you finally relax enough to open your own.
The wrapping paper was set aside as you opened your final gift, from Jason. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you hadn’t seen that gift in the pile before tentatively opening the box it came in.
Your eyes widened at its contents, setting it down before launching yourself at Jason, “How did you know? What? When did you even buy this?”
Jason laughed before pulling you closer, “I saw you eyeing it at the mall.”
“I love it, thank you!” you pressed a short kiss to his lips before remembering the audience around you.
Dick, Duke and Stephanie watched you with a smile while Tim and Damian watched in disgust at their brother kissing you. Cass and Bruce watched with schooled faces but their eyes threatened to crinkle at the edges while their lips twitched with a betrayal of emotion.
Jason laughed at your sudden embarrassment before settling you by his side. Damian met your gaze nodding in thanks for your gift before pretending he hadn’t just acknowledged you.
Laughter and happy yells continued to fill the once cold room and warmth settled onto your chest. Unbeknownst to you, Jason fiddled with a velvet box in his pocket—waiting for the right moment.
・❥・ 5.2k+ words. vamp!reader. fem!reader. canon violence. made up house. bending canon to fit the story. reader has a name for plot purposes but it isn’t her “real” one.
SUMMARY ➤ being a blood-sucking monster often left you without friends but with one turn of luck you end up with more than you bargained for. will you survive or will the dragon eat you whole?
💌 NOTE: change of pov to make it more accurate to xreader. we've met more characters! still unsure for the love interest but i'll set up a poll once we've met them all :) also this chapter went the complete opposite direction of what i had originally planned so that’s why it took so long
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The journey towards the inn had been longer than you had anticipated yet it was a peaceful one. Chestnut seemed to be a horse with great temperament, at least she did in your hands. You doubted you’d reach the inn before nightfall, adding another day to your planned route.
Your hands fiddled with a necklace you had stolen from the lady in the woods. It carried her house sigil serving to further solidify your lie. Oddly the sigil was one of a bat which many people likened to your kind when speaking of the monster in the darkness. Her house motto even read ‘Conquerors of Darkness’ which caused you to smile at the irony. Seemed like the darkness had conquered her.
Ser Dunk was mostly quiet during the journey, only speaking when you asked him something. On the other hand his thoughts echoed loudly from his mind to yours. He seemed nervous about your presence. Although you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.
The horses seemed to slow the further they descended into the day.
“We’ll stop here for the night. Give the horses some time to rest, ” Ser Dunk came to a stop near a patch of trees.
You nodded before descending your horse with the help of Ser Dunk’s steady hands.
“I’ll look for a river nearby. I need a good wash to rid myself of the day’s odor,” Ser Dunk flushed at your words, drifting off to the image of you bare in the water.
“You shouldn’t wander off alone. I’ll accompany you and keep watch. Wouldn’t want someone stumbling upon you in a vulnerable moment,” Ser Dunk tied the horses to the trees giving them enough length to wander around.
“Very well, Ser Ser Dunk,” You hid the quirk of your lips by turning and walking past the trees.
Your ears could pick up the sound of water some distance ahead causing your feet to follow the sound. The ground grew moister the closer you got causing the bottom of your dress to grow darker in color.
“M’lady, how do you know we’re going the right way?” Ser Dunk glanced ahead of them attempting to see if he could make out a river in the distance.
“Nature helps those that are knowledgeable, Ser. The ground holds moisture here which means we’re getting closer to a river,” you turned, pointing to some plants, “And there, those plants only grow near large amounts of water.”
Ser Dunk nodded along, eyes brightening at the sight of the damp soil beneath their feet, “Where did’ya learn that m’lady?”
Your eyes glazed over in thought, “My mother, Ser. She knew more of this world than most Maester’s do.”
You continued your trek through the land arriving at the river shortly after. You waited no further and began unlacing your dress causing Ser Dunk to turn sharply at the sight. He could hear the laces being pulled apart by your nimble fingers.
The dull thud of your clothes hitting the floor filled the sudden silence that had blanketed you both. You stepped towards the river carefully dipping into it to try and avoid slipping. Your fate was unavoidable as the wet moss caused you to fall in with a small yelp.
Ser Dunk turned quickly thinking you to be in danger only to be met with the sight of your bare body rising from the water. Droplets of water descended down your chest pebbling your nipples at the change in temperature. The beads of water traveled south down your stomach and fell back into the river right at your waist. Your skin glistened brightly despite the descending sun causing him to gulp harshly.
He scolded himself for betraying your trust, forcing his body to turn away from you now that he saw no threat, “Be careful m’lady.”
A laugh escaped you at his words feigning obliviousness to his fiery gaze moments ago, “Just got wet faster this way, Ser.”
Ser Dunk clenched his fists at his sides at your words picturing them coming true in an entirely different way. He forced a laugh out of himself pretending his mind wasn’t racing with dishonourable thoughts of you.
You took joy in the way his body tensed from behind, aware of the effect you were having on him. Satisfied with your newfound cleanliness you climbed back onto the embankment pulling on your dress over your thin cloth slip.
“Ser, I need some help,” your voice came out softly prompting Ser Dunk to turn slowly.
You motioned to the laces on the right side of your dress, “I fear I can’t properly lace them up.”
Ser Dunk walked closer, his gaze growing heavy at the sight of your damp skin under the fabric. His hands hovered above the laces before gripping them with shaky fingers. He cleared his throat before pulling at the laces watching the dress close together and obstruct his view from your wet skin.
As soon as he was finished he took a step back gathering his thoughts before nodding, “Let’s head back m’lady.”
You didn’t let him get far, looping your arm through his, “I don’t want to fall again. The ground is quite slick with mud.”
Ser Dunk gazed down at you, “Of course, m’lady.”
You could feel the warmth of his body sticking to you prompting you to shuffle closer. Your body hadn’t felt the warmth of another other than when you fed. He took your closeness as a good sign, happy that you felt safe by his side. A knight should ensure a lady’s safety above all else.
You arrived back at the horses quicker than your trip to the river having become familiar with the path. Ser Dunk immediately built a fire hoping to keep you warm after what he was sure was a cold bath.
The bright flame (hehe) amplified your beauty, sharpening your features even in the night.
“M’lady, you should rest. I will ensure no harm comes to you while you sleep,” Ser Dunk rested against a tree, eyes flickering to their surroundings before finding yours once again.
“Thank you, Ser,” You made herself comfortable on the grass facing away from Ser Dunk pretending like you were able to slumber to satiate him.
———————————————————
You pretended to wake with the sound of Ser Dunk’s footsteps making a show of blinking tiredly and stretching your ‘sore’ limbs. You watched as he quietly readied the horses relishing in the sight of his muscles flexing under his clothes.
You faked a yawn successfully capturing his attention without needing to call out.
“Morning, M’lady,” Ser Dunk tightened the straps on his horse while greeting you.
You rose from the ground slowly before approaching him, “Do I have any grass in my hair, Ser?”
Ser Dunk searched your head before reaching out with clumsy fingers, “I’ll rid you of it M’lady.”
You watched him carefully through your eyelashes taking notice of the way his eyes seemed to avoid your gaze while standing so close. Similarly like the previous day by the river, Ser Dunk took a large step back once finished.
“We should be on our way. Make use of the sun while we have it,” Ser Dunk handed Chestnut’s reins over to you pretending not to notice how your fingers lingered longer than necessary.
You brandished one of your soft smiles, “Let us be on our way then, Ser.”
“Wait,” he stopped you before you could climb onto Chestnut removing his cloak and placing it over your shoulders. “Many a criminal will be attracted to your fancy silks, M’lady. Best not tempt the Stranger.”
The cloak was large enough to cover you completely obviously fitted to Ser Dunk’s measurements. It bundled by the ground growing dirtier than it already was.
“Are you sure, Ser? I fear it is too big and will drag and grow dirtier the longer I wear it,” you looked up from the ground.
“Your safety is worth more than a cloak, M’lady,” Ser Dunk nodded in confirmation before clicking at the horses to continue your journey.
You made your way towards the inn in peace once more whilst Ser Dunk kept trying to will away the unseemly thoughts that seemed to plague him ever since the sight of you bathing had reached him. You kept yourself composed, doing your best not to spill any information that would uncover the truth about your bloody origins.
Ser Dunk cleared his throat, “M’lady it seems like the inn is within our sights.”
You moved your gaze from the trees to your right and focused on the horizon before you. The sun had set behind the horizon which covered the whole area in darkness. An inn lit by torches met your gaze, “I am glad to have finally arrived.”
The two of you were greeted by a stable boy, his wide eyes watching you carefully.
“Hello there. Are you the stableboy?” Ser Dunk called out coming to stop in front of the boy.
The boy said nothing as you dismounted the horses, only walking closer to get a better look. You met his curious gaze with a smile doing your best to appear friendly.
“I want the palfrey rubbed down. And oats for all three. You tend to them?” Ser Dunk questioned pulling Sweetfoot along with him.
The boy tilted his head in thought, “I could, if I wanted.”
His reply caused you to widen your eyes in amusement quickly covering your mouth lest a laugh escape you.
Ser Dunk grew serious, “None of that. See to the horses. You’ll get a copper if you do well, and a clout in the ear if not.”
He handed the reins over to the boy before leading you inside. You glanced over your shoulder at the boy finding him to still be watching you both as you entered the inn.
Ser Dunk pushed the door to the inn open allowing you inside first before following after you. The inn was dimly lit and bare of patrons causing the pair of you to share a look.
“There doesn’t seem to be anyone,” you observed, gaze wandering over the many empty tables.
Just as you both made the choice to leave, a woman came into view, “Sit where you like.”
Ser Dunk set down both of your things nearby, taking a hesitant look around. Your eyes seemed to focus on a drunk man passed out on a table close by.
“There’s good lamb roasted with a crust of herbs and some ducks my son shut down. Which will you have?” The woman waited for a reply.
“M'lady, which would you like?” Ser Dunk turned towards you remembering your presence.
“I’ll have the lamb,” you took a seat on a bench keeping an eye on the passed out man.
“Two servings of the lamb and one of the duck,” Ser Dunk relayed, getting a laugh in response from the woman serving them.
“You’re big enough for it,” the woman turned to serve you a drink.
“How much farther to Ashford?” Ser Dunk took the cups from her hands placing yours in front of you.
“Day’s ride. Is my boy seeing to your horses or has he run off again?” She refilled Ser Dunk’s empty cup taking notice of your untouched one with a quirk of her eyebrow.
“No, he’s there,” Ser Dunk replied while you only nodded in confirmation, finally taking a sip from your cup.
The taste was abysmal at best but you expected no better from a lackluster inn with only one other customer. You doubted the food you were to be served would fare any better. Although you didn’t need the food, you tended to indulge in human food when you could. A reminder of your old life before you became a killer.
“Half the town’s gone down the tourney. Mine would, too, if I allowed it,” the woman chuckled. “I swear, I couldn’t tell you why. Knights are built the same as other men. And I never knew a joust to change the price of eggs.”
The woman grew serious taking in Ser Dunk’s shield, “Bound for the tourney yourself?”
You remained quiet believing it best not to speak for him.
“I dreamed of you,” the drunk man from before spoke, capturing your attention. His eyes were trained on Ser Dunk as he clumsily pulled a knife from under the table. “Stay the fuck away from me. Both of you. You hear?”
“M’lord?” Ser Dunk was confused at the man’s words.
The man stumbled as he stood placing a coin on the table before making his way upstairs. His words stuck to you like the mud caked to your shoes. Somehow you doubted his words about seeing you in his dreams were just drunk ramblings. He seemed oddly familiar to you like you had seen his face previously.
“Never you mind that one, Ser. I’ll see about your food,” the woman disappeared back into the kitchen giving you one final look.
“I’ll be back, Ser,” you rose from the table before he could reply following the drunk man up the stairs.
The inn was even darker as you made your way through the hall. The sound of something clustering to the floor reached your ears causing you to walk towards it. The room’s door was ajar allowing you to peek into to see its contents. The drunk man stumbled around before attempting to land on his bed missing by quite the distance and falling to the floor.
You stifled a laugh at the sight before making your way into the room ensuring no one saw before closing the door behind you.
“Would you like some help?” you crouched by his face pushing some hair behind his ear.
His neck was exposed, easily accessible if only you leaned in. Your fangs protruded from their hiding place as you heard the sound of his blood pumping.
Before you could take a bite, the man groaned in response, opening his eyes to find you crouched beside him, “You.”
“Yes?” you tilted your head in response waiting for him to continue.
“I’ve dreamt of you nightly. A dragon soars through the sky with a red string attached to its heart. Blood spills down the string to your hands where you play with it whilst holding a blade. Leave,” he hissed, turning away from you.
His words amplified his thoughts allowing you to see his dreams clearly in your own mind. Flashes of a large three headed dragon flying above you were seared into your mind. A string connected it to you like a hound on a leash covering you both in blood. You gasped sharply as more details were ingrained into your mind against your will as you felt a fraction of the drunk man’s pain.
You stumbled out of the room back down the stairs hoping the distance would soothe the ache. The table you once sat at was empty with no sight of Ser Dunk anywhere.
“Has he left me?” you whispered fearing your ride to Ashford was gone.
“He’s gone to the horses,” the woman from before informed receiving a nod in thanks from you.
You made your way to the stables following the familiar sound of his voice.
“Take that armor off you. Now!”
When you entered the stable you found Ser Dunk removing the stable boy from atop his horse.
“And be glad Thunder didn’t kick you in that fool head of yours. He’s a war horse, not a boy’s pony,” Ser Dunk chastised the boy showing you a side of him you hadn’t seen before.
You decided to be a quiet spectator quite liking the seriousness he wore.
“I could ride him as well as you,” the stableboy retorted, causing you to laugh behind your hand.
Ser Dunk turned to look at you in betrayal before addressing the boy, “Close your insolent mouth. I’m a knight, I’ll have you know.”
“You don’t look to be a knight,” the boy replied, removing Ser Dunk’s armor from his body.
“I’ll have you know he saved me from a terrible fate. He’s a great knight,” you couldn’t help but defend Ser Dunk feeling guilty about your continuous lie despite his kind treatment of you.
Ser Dunk stood proudly at your words, “What, all knights look the same, do they?”
“No. But they don’t look like you either. Your belt’s made of rope,” the boy continued pointing towards Ser Dunk as if his appearance made his argument.
“A knight is his honor and the choices he makes, not what he wears,” you replied only to receive a look of disbelief from the small boy in front of you.
“So long as it holds my scabbard, it serves,” Ser Dunk added, sending you a look of gratitude for your words.
“Are you going to the tourney, then? Do you mean to enter the lists?” the young boy asked curiously.
Ser Dunk shared a look with you, “Yeah, I suppose I do.”
The boy grew excited, “Take me with you, Ser. Please.”
“And what might your mother say to that?" Ser Dunk asked, trying to make the boy see reason.
“Not much. She’s dead,” the boy sent you a serious look that went unnoticed by Ser Dunk.
Ser Dunk scoffed, “Is the innkeeper not your,” his words trailed off as he realized something. “You’re an orphan boy.”
“Are you?” the boy tilted his head at Ser Dunk but the question was for you both.
“I am not,” you replied softly, still thinking of his words about his mother. In reality, your parents were long gone with their bones turned to ash but you had to keep the pretense of your faux nobility.
“I was. Once. Till my ser took me in. Taught me arms and riding, and taught me everything, really. Best he could,” Ser Dunk avoided your eyes not wanting to see pity reflected in your gaze.
“If you could bring me to Ashford, I could squire for you, Ser. And you can teach me best you can,” the boy proposed.
“No, I have no need for a squire, lad,” Ser Dunk rejected him immediately, focusing on saddling your horses.
“Every knight needs a squire. And you look like you need one more than most,” the boy sent a glance your way.
Ser Dunk turned in annoyance, “And you look like you need a good clout in the ear.”
“Maybe we should take him, Ser. You do have three horses,” you said quietly, the young boy reminding you of yourself before your change.
Ser Dunk threw a betrayed look your way before dismissing your words, “Fill me a sack of oats. We’re off for Ashford. Without you.”
The boy turned away solemnly fidgeting with the sack Ser Dunk had asked him to fill. You felt saddened at the sight but you couldn’t command Ser Dunk to take him when you yourself were a guest.
Ser Dunk sighed, “Look, lad, I promise you, you’re better off not squiring for the likes of me.”
He avoided your look as climbed atop his horse and you followed his lead with one final look towards the stableboy.
“For your help,” Ser Dunk flicked a coin towards the boy but the boy made no move to catch it. “Sulk all you wish. I know you’ll scoop it up as soon as I’m gone.”
The two of you departed the inn once again finding yourselves in the comfort of horseback and the open air. Ser Dunk had been awake for over a whole day which would’ve made you believe he was inhuman if it wasn’t for your sharp eyes picking up how his head seemed to lull forward. It seemed like the motion of being on horseback but you knew better.
The sun rose in the distance alerting you to the start of a brand new day. Ser Dunk led you down the hillside as smoke rose through the trees. As you got closer the sight of tents and the sound of people speaking reached you both.
The both of you shared a smile at the sight, happy to have arrived so swiftly. You made your way through the tents watching the people with slight awe. You hadn’t been around so many people since before your death.
“We should head towards the castle. The lord must be awaiting you, M’lady,” Ser Dunk suggested receiving a nod from you.
From the images inside the mind of the lady you had killed, you confirmed that her family was new and foreign to the lands giving you the perfect cover should suspicion arise at your arrival. The people of Westeros did not know much of them other than basic physical descriptors which luckily you fit.
You left the horses tied at a stable before continuing your way on foot. Ser Dunk swallowed nervously before stopping in front of a side door that led towards the inside of the castle.
“It seems this is where our paths diverge, Ser,” you smiled up at him. “Thank you for your help.”
Ser Dunk opened and closed his mouth before settling with a nod. You sent him a final look before making your way through the streets and towards the front door of the large castle.
Immediately you were stopped by the guards as they took a long glance down your person. You followed their gazes realizing you still wore Ser Dunk’s coat. Quickly removing the cloak you watched their gazes change.
“Lord Ashford is awaiting me,” you showed them the sigil on your necklace watching a wave of pity cover their faces as they recognized your house.
“Yes, my lady. Lord Ashford awaits you inside. Allow us to escort you,” one of the knights offered.
Still confused by their previous expressions you only nodded before following the knights. They led you down a hall that opened into a room where an older man you assumed to be Lord Ashford sat with a grim expression.
“Lady Amyra of House Brax, lord,” one of the knights announced, causing the older man to startle from his seat.
“Sit, my lady,” Lord Ashford motioned towards a seat.
He watched you for a moment taking in the sight of your soiled clothes before continuing, “I am afraid I am the bearer of bad news, my lady. Your parents and their envoy were attacked on the road by a band of thieves before they could arrive here.”
You tensed in your seat preparing yourself to perform accordingly.
“None survived. You are the lone survivor of your house. The maids, the knights, they’re all gone. I’m sorry,” Lord Ashford finished clumsily unable to come up with any words of comfort.
You faked a gasp, your body folding in on yourself as you forced tears to stream down your face. A sob tore itself out of your chest as you continued to act devastated.
“Lady Brax, you may stay here until your affairs are in order,” he motioned for one of his daughter’s maids. “You will have a room for as long as you need it. Please, take some time to mourn.”
The maid led you out of the room slowly holding onto your arm to keep you upright, “M’lady, I have prepared a bath for you. Maybe you will feel more comfortable after washing.”
You nodded as your tears slowed but you kept your head down in fake mourning until you were inside your room.
The maid helped remove your dress and undo your hair, “I shall step away for a moment to retrieve you a new dress, M’lady.”
You nodded at her words relishing in the warm water that darkened as you scrubbed your skin raw. The warmth felt almost as nice as the warmth Ser Dunk had emanated when you had held him by the arm.
The maid returned quickly with three dresses in her arms, “Lord Ashford noted your lack of trunks when you arrived at the gates.”
“What is your name?” you questioned.
“Ann, m’lady,” the maid replied quietly.
You rose from the water finally clean and smelling of flowers, “Ann, please deliver my gratitude to Lord Ashford. I shall like to be alone for the remainder of today.”
Ann nodded as pity shined beneath her gaze. The whole of Ashford had heard of your family’s untimely demise.
“As you wish, M’lady,” she closed the door behind her with a final look.
You dried your body before analyzing the dresses more closely. They were plainer than the one you wore but beautiful nonetheless. It seemed like Lord Ashford had wanted to make you feel more comfortable by likening them to your house colors.
The base color for all three dresses was black but the details on each were different. One held stitching silver in color along the chest swirling in pretty patterns down the sleeves and across the midsection. The second dress held similar patterns but red cloth overlapped over the shoulders coming to a point right where your belly button would be. The final dress was a mix of black and silver fabric stitched with the same swirling patterns in red.
You dressed yourself in the first dress gazing out your window as the day turned to night. An idea popped into your mind as you covered yourself once again with Ser Dunk’s cloak. The ground beneath your window was far but deserted leaving you with ample opportunity to jump down without raising suspicion.
The roads and tents were lit by countless torches causing the whole place to come alive. You wandered the many stalls hoping to run into Ser Dunk to return his cloak. Clapping and cheers captured your attention prompting your feet to follow the noise.
A large tent stood with a crowd inside and a smile grazed your lips as you saw the familiar tall knight. You made your way over to the tent becoming distracted by the lady speaking and the great dragon puppet beside her.
Her storytelling was captivating in a way you had never experienced before. Your eyes widened in shock as the dragon puppet breathed actual fire towards the audience. Clapping echoed through the tent and you laughed in shock as the play ended.
You remembered the reason as to why you were there when the crowd began to disperse. Ser Dunk’s back greeted you as he walked away from the tent in a rush. People bumped into you as you made your way through the crowd hoping to reach Ser Dunk.
Just as you were about to poke his back a man ran after him, “Halfman! Halfman!”
Ser Dunk stopped irritated, still not having spotted you, “Do I look like a half man to you?”
“Aye. Half man, half giant,” the unknown man laughed. “Look, I’m sorry. I should not have urged you to try my cousin. He’d have broken your hand or knee, if he could. He likes to batter men in the yard, you know, in case he meets them in the lists.”
“Your cousin sounds like a cunt,” your words startled both men. “Hello, again, Ser Dunk. It seems you’ve had an eventful day.”
The unknown man stared at you, failing to stammer out a reply at the sight of your beauty.
“Lady Brax! It seems we meet again,” Ser Dunk sent you a timid smile, cheeks reddening at the sight of his cloak still wrapped around you.
“Lady Brax? I am sorry for your loss my lady,” the unknown man replied, expression dimming at the mention of your name.
“Sorry for her loss, why?” questioned Ser Dunk looking between you and the man.
“My family, Ser. They didn’t make it. I am the lone survivor of my house. It seems I have lied to that stableboy,” your words created a pause between the three of you.
“I am sorry to hear that, M’lady,” Ser Dunk replied, eyes gazing into yours earnestly.
“I do not wish to discuss this any further,” you replied walking between both men. “What is your name?” your eyes turned towards the unknown man.
“Raymun Fossoway, my lady,” the man replied.
Ser Dunk nodded before changing the topic of conversation, “He did not break you.”
“I’m his blood. Though he is the senior branch of the apple tree, which he never ceases to remind me,” Raymun replied, scoffing in disdain.
“Will you and your cousin ride in the tourney?” Ser Dunk questioned.
“He will. I would that I could, but I’m only a squire,” Raymun answered.
Ser Dunk thought for a moment, “Fight well for a squire.”
Raymun smiled widely, “You have the look of a challenger. Whose shield do you mean to strike?”
“Makes no difference,” Ser Dunk replied while shaking his head.
“It makes all the difference,” you replied as Raymun nodded at you.
“That’s what you’re supposed to say,” Raymun teased, stopping to stare at Ser Dunk.
“Though it makes all the difference in the world,” Ser Dunk repeated your words, his body growing nervous.
Raymun laughed before looking at both of you, “Either of you hungry?”
“I have to make my way back to the castle before they notice my absence. I just wanted to return Ser Dunk’s cloak,” the cloak fell from your shoulders into your hands.
“You can’t stay?” Ser Dunk questioned as you passed the cloak into his hands. He had been happy to spot your familiar face amongst the many strangers.
“Unfortunately, I cannot but I hope to run into you tomorrow. Goodnight, Ser Dunk. Goodnight, Raymun,” you departed after their farewells making your way back towards the castle.
The path back to the castle was serene as you took your time while exploring the new area. You were distracted by the sight of a small insect whose body lit up as it flew past you when a body collided with you.
Too distracted to diminish your natural, or unnatural, strength the other person thudded to the floor with a small moan.
“My lady, you seem to be made out of brick,” a familiar voice stated.
You dropped your gaze to the body on the floor coming face to face with the stable boy from the inn, “What are you doing here?”
“I am to be a squire, my lady,” he replied with a nod of his bald head.
You laughed at his bravery, “What is your name, young squire?”
The boy thought for a moment, “Egg.”
“Egg?” you questioned in disbelief.
“Yes, my lady, Egg.”
“Alright, be careful Egg,” you warned, wary of him walking around alone.
Although, if he had made it this far by himself you were sure he’d be alright until he found Ser Dunk.
Egg nodded at your warning before running off into the crowd causing a small smile to graze your face. You arrived at your window once more jumping up onto the ledge.
As soon as your feet hit the floor a knock echoed through the room.
“Enter,” you called out.
The door pushed open to reveal Ann, “I do not wish to bother m’lady but you haven’t ate all day.”
She walked further into the room revealing the plate in her hands.
Your mouth watered at the smell, “I appreciate the food, thank you.”
Ann smiled timidly before placing the food on a side table, “Would you like my help getting ready for bed m’lady?”
You nodded thinking it best to be comfortable before eating. She quickly undid your dress letting it fall to the floor revealing your slip underneath. She took a brush and ran it through your hair undoing any knots that had formed since it had dried.
“Call for me if you need anything else m’lady,” Ann said before excusing herself from the room.
You dug into the food as soon as the door closed, throwing any manners you had out the window. You had forgotten to eat at the inn due to your curiosity getting the better of you and you were starving.
The hunger had caused your thirst to worsen but you couldn’t feed yet while the land and the people were still unknown.
Later. You promised yourself. You would feed later once you were more comfortably settled in.
・❥・ 5.1k+ words. vamp!reader. fem!reader. canon violence. made up house. bending canon to fit the story. reader has a name for plot purposes but it isn’t her “real” one.
SUMMARY ➤ being a blood-sucking monster often left you without friends but with one turn of luck you end up with more than you bargained for. will you survive or will the dragon eat you whole?
💌 NOTE: #baelor with bella swans powers (ps. valarr is not married)
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✶⋆.˚ reblogs and replies are highly appreciated .ᐟ
You spent the night staring at the stars as the people from the tents slept bar a couple drunks who stumbled around. The food Ann had brought you had served to settle your stomach though your throat still screamed in protest at being denied blood.
The sun continued to rise in the sky when a knock echoed through your chambers.
“Enter,” you called out, remaining by the window.
Ann entered your room, “M’lady, Lord Ashford asks if you would join him this morning to break your fast. He has pressing matters to discuss.”
“Of course, it would be rude to deny him after his graciousness,” you stood from your spot by the window allowing Ann to dress and make up your hair.
She wove intricate braids into your hair watching you silently. After finishing helping you she led you down the halls towards the room where you had first met Lord Ashford.
The wood in the fireplace crackled softly in the background illuminating the place in an orange hue. The once empty table was filled with fruits, pastries and other food. Goblets of ale and wine were filled in advance for consumption.
“Lady Brax, I hope your chambers were comfortable,” Lord Ashford tried for a smile but it looked more like a grimace.
“They were my lord. I thank you for your hospitality,” you sent a dim smile his way, still playing the part of a mourning daughter.
“I see the dresses are a perfect fit,” he gestured for you to sit before pointing to a young girl. “This is my daughter, Gwin. I hope you can get along.”
You sent the girl a small smile but only received a blank look from the girl as she analyzed you.
“I have called you to inform you that there will be more guests arriving soon. Representatives of House Targaryen will be staying here for the duration of the tourney,” he watched your expression before continuing.
“Prince Baelor along with his son Prince Valarr will be attending alongside Prince Maekar and his three sons Princes Daeron, Aerion and Aegon. I know you’re of marrying age now and perhaps it would be good for your house's survival for you to become acquainted with any of the crown princes.”
You knew what he was implying and you knew that in his own way he was trying to counsel you as your father might’ve.
He saw the hesitation on your face, “It is just a suggestion my lady.”
“A good one,” you replied, mind drifting.
Securing your house by linking it to House Targaryen would be the ultimate fate. Still, the Targaryens were unknown to you and you’d have to be careful when dealing with so many men. Princes were rather prideful and if they found out your plan they could very well kill you.
Trumpets and cheers traveled from outside the walls and into the room capturing Lord Ashford’s attention. He rose from his seat, “Quickly, maids clean the table. Lady Brax, Gwin please follow me.”
He led you to the front door of the castle where several others awaited you. Various knights rode towards you brandishing a red dragon banner.
“Our Lord of Ashford humbly welcomes the great and honourable Baelor Targaryen, firstborn son of King Daeron the Good. Prince of Dragonstone, Hand of the King and heir to the Iron Throne,” announced Lord Ashford’s herald as a man with dark hair rode in on a black stallion with a white streak between its ears.
“Uh, and his brother Maekar,” finished the herald as a man with striking white hair arrived just behind Prince Baelor.
Prince Baelor descended from his horse eyes landing momentarily on you before addressing Lord Ashford with a smile, “My Lord of Ashford.”
“It’s a great honor to receive Your Grace,” Lord Ashford replied.
Prince Baelor clapped Lord Ashford on the shoulder, “It’s a great honor to be received.”
“My daughter, Gwin,” Lord Ashford introduced before Prince Baelor’s gaze fell on you.
“Lady Amrya from House Brax, Your Grace,” Lord Ashford informed Prince Baelor causing you to bow your head in response.
“I am sorry for the losses you have suffered,” Prince Baelor’s words caused your gaze to lift in surprise.
You would’ve assumed that the heir to the Iron Throne would be less kind.
“Thank you for the kind words, Your Grace. I am fortunate enough to have been taken in kindly by Lord Ashford for the time being,” you offered him a small smile keeping your eyes locked on his mismatched ones.
Something flickered behind his eyes at the way you carried yourself even after such a major loss. He was unsure of how he would react if all his house was gone.
“Yes, fortunately,” he nodded at Lord Ashford, giving you a final glance before entering the castle.
Lord Ashford gave you a look of approval before motioning for you to walk with them. The familiar halls surrounded you once more as you walked a couple of paces behind the Princes and Lord Ashford.
Lady Gwin slowed her pace to walk with you while the men talked amongst themselves, “Father said you were free to roam the grounds.”
You paused, “I think I will take his suggestion. Thank you, Lady Gwin.”
You nodded in farewell before beginning to wander the grounds outside the castle once again. The grounds were much more colorful when the sun was out giving you something to entertain you. You walked over to the stables stopping in place when you saw Ser Dunk enter the castle through a side door.
Shaking your head in disbelief you followed after him keeping an eye out for any guards. You caught up to him without being noticed and took advantage of your stealth to pull him back.
“Ser, you’ll get into trouble if you continue to wander the castle,” you warned.
“Lady Amyra, you’re here,” he stammered, taking notice of your new clothes and hair.
“Yes, because this is Lord Ashford’s home,” you looked around. “What are you doing walking down its halls?”
“I’ve been unable to enter the lists. Lord Ashford should be able to help me,” Ser Dink informed walking further into the castle before you could stop him.
The two of you came to a stop near the entrance to the room where you had met Lord Ashford just the day before.
“Might we discuss this another time? I say we go hunting. Daeron has done this before. You should not have commanded him to enter the lists,” you heard the familiar voice of Prince Baelor.
“Shh,” both Ser Dunk and you gasped as you turned around to find Lady Gwin behind you. “The prince’s sons are missing.”
“Oh,” Ser Dunk replied, dumbfounded by the information.
“Probably dead,” Lady Gwin continued.
“Dead?” Ser Dunk asked.
“Wars have started for less,” whispered Lady Gwin before pausing. “You’re big and stupid.”
Lady Gwin feigned a hit at Ser Dunk causing him to step back in surprise before leaving you alone with him. His actions caused you to stifle a laugh catching his attention.
“Do not laugh,” he whispered, straightening up.
“Sorry, it was funny, Ser,” you replied, muffling your laughter.
Both of you turned back to the conversation happening in the room in front of you.
“Daeron belongs on a tourney field no more than Aerys or Rhaegal,” said Prince Baelor.
Prince Maekar turned to him, “By which you mean he’d sooner ride a whore than a horse.”
The brothers continued arguing as Ser Dunk moved closer.
“Stop, they’ll see you Ser,” you tried to warn him but it was too late.
“You. Who are you? What do you mean by spying on us? Show yourself,” Prince Maekar yelled giving Ser Dunk no choice but to leave his hiding place.
Ser Dunk did not give away your place but you followed after him anyways. Lord Ashford almost fainted at the sight of you while Prince Baelor only watched you with mild interest.
“Lady Amyra, what is the meaning of this? Why do you hide amongst the halls with this man?” Lord Ashford questioned.
Before you could reply Dunk cut you off clearing his throat, “M’lords, I do apologize for my interruption. I have asked Ser Manfred Dondarrion to vouch for me so that I might enter the lists, but he has refused to do so.”
“Who? What the fuck is going on?” questioned Prince Maekar, his eyes leaving Dunk for a brief moment to analyze you.
“We are the intruders here, brother. Come closer, ser,” Prince Baelor addressed his brother and Ser Dunk but kept his eyes trained on you.
Ser Dunk glanced at you before walking closer to Prince Baelor, “And others, too. You see, they say they know not Ser Arlan of Pennytree. But he served them. I swear it. I have his sword and shield.”
Lord Ashford scoffed, “Sword and shield do not make a knight.”
He tried to gain approval from Prince Maekar who sat to his left. All he earned was the small glare you sent his way which Prince Maekar caught before you reset your expression. He kept his gaze on you in slight interest before dragging it back to Ser Dunk.
“If I may speak, Your Grace,” you received a nod from Prince Baelor allowing you to continue. “Ser Dunk is a great knight. He is the sole reason I am here today. He saved me and guarded me on the road so I could make it here alive.”
“Still, unless you have better proof to support what you say. Some writing or,” continued Lord Ashford only to be interrupted by Ser Dunk.
“Do you remember him, Your Grace?” he asked, eyes set on Prince Baelor. “It was many years ago. You may have forgotten.”
Prince Baelor thought for a moment which made you realize just how careful he was about the words he said.
“Ser Arlan of Pennytree,” he echoed gaze lifting from the food he had taken to his mouth. “He never won a tourney that I know. But he never shamed himself, either.”
“Yes, ser. I mean, no. No, he didn’t,” Ser Dunk confirmed, growing hopeful at the prince’s words.
You watched the exchange with intrigue wondering if Prince Baelor truly knew Ser Arlan. According to Ser Dunk no one else had been able to recall him. From the use of your powers Ser Dunk fully believed Ser Arlan had known all these people yet no one recalled him. You tried reading Prince Baelor’s thoughts but you hadn’t fed since you took over Lady Amyra’s identity leaving you weak.
“He overthrew Lord Stokeworth in the melee at King’s Landing and years before, he unhorsed the Grey Lion himself,” Prince Baelor recounted some of what he seemed to remember.
“He told me of that many a time,” Ser Dunk smiled at finally having someone remember Ser Arlan.
“Then, you will recall the Grey Lion’s true name, I have no doubt,” Prince Baelor tested Ser Dunk.
His words made you remember he was not a normal man but one with the blood of the dragon flowing within him. The way he carried himself, the cadence of his words and the way he held Ser Dunk’s gaze all spoke to that of a confident man who was scarcely wrong. It made a shiver run through you as you thought back to what Lord Ashford had suggested you do to secure your house.
The room paused as Ser Dunk tried to think of the name, “Ser Damon Lannister. The Grey Lion, he’s Lord of Casterly Rock now.”
You took in a small sharp breath waiting to see if he was correct in his answer.
“So he is. And enters the lists upon the morrow,” Prince Baelor smiled.
You turned to Ser Dunk in happiness, moving to hug him before remembering it would be inappropriate to do so, “I will look forward to watching you, Ser Dunk.”
He returned your smile nodding at your words as his face grew flustered at the thought of you watching him compete.
“How can you possibly remember some fucking hedge knight who chanced to unhorse Damon Lannister sixteen years ago?” questioned Prince Maekar as Lord Ashford signaled with his eyes for you to join his side.
You sent a look towards Ser Dunk before moving to Lord Ashford’s side waiting to be able to sit.
“I make it a practice to learn all I can of my foes,” Prince Baelor replied, glancing toward his younger brother tiredly before sitting down.
Lord Ashford pulled out your seat before taking hoping to gain approval from the princes. His actions went unnoticed by everyone but you.
“Thank you, Lord Ashford. You are very kind,” you added a sweet tone to your words knowing that boosting his image in front of the Targaryen Princes would work in your favor. It was the least you could do to thank him for his hospitality.
Prince Baelor glanced toward him with a nod before focusing on the food before him while Lord Ashford sent you an approving tilt of his head.
“And why would you deign to joust with a hedge knight?” Prince Maekar asked, still in a mood.
His attitude was entertaining as long as it wasn’t directed at you which at the moment it wasn’t.
“It was many years past, at Storm’s End. Lord Baratheon held a hastilude to celebrate the birth of a grandson. The lots made Ser Arlan my opponent in the first tilt. We broke four lances before I finally unhorsed him,” Prince Baelor recounted settling into his seat.
“It was seven,” Ser Dunk corrected, causing you to let out a sudden laugh alongside Prince Maekar.
Prince Maekar and you coincidentally locked eyes as you laughed which made you lower your head before you continued to embarrass yourself further in front of the princes.
“I believe,” Ser Dunk timidly corrected himself, realizing his mistake.
“Tales grow in the telling, I know. Do not think ill of your old master, but it was four lances only, I fear,” Prince Baelor continued.
“As you say, Your grace. It was four. I do apologize. The old man, Ser Arlan, he used to say that I was thick as a castle wall and slow as an aurochs,” Ser Dunk kneeled down apologetically.
You stifled your next laugh, the sleeve of your dress avoiding Lord Ashford’s gaze by turning away from him. Unfortunately, that meant Prince Maekar had a front row view to your unending laughter.
“No harm was done, ser. Rise,” Prince Baelor said, causing you to stop your laughter.
“You gave him back his horse and armor and took no ransom. Ser Arlan often told me that you were the soul of chivalry and that one day, the Seven Kingdoms would be safe in your hands,” Ser Dunk announced, causing Prince Maekar to groan to your left and for you to lower your head at his earnestness.
“Not for many years yet, I pray,” Prince Baelor replied.
“No, I did not mean,” stammered Ser Dunk flustered by his continuous blusters.
“Ser Dunk, we know in which way you meant it,” you spoke trying to comfort the kind giant that had helped you on the road.
“You wish to enter the lists. Is that it?” Prince Baelor asked, bringing the conversation to its original topic.
Ser Dunk nodded, “Yes.”
“The decision rests with the master of the games, but I see no reason to deny you,” Prince Baelor said, framing his words to give the illusion of choice rather than that of a command.
“As you say, m’lord,” agreed the man beside him.
“Your Grace,” Ser Dunk began.
“Very well, ser, you are grateful. Now, fuck off!” Prince Maekar dismissed, annoyed by Ser Dunk’s continuous presence.
“Of course,” whispered Ser Dunk.
“Brother, you’ve cussed thrice now in front of Lady Amyra. You’d do well to remember that you’re still to give respect when a young lady is present,” Prince Baelor warned. “You must forgive my brother, ser, Lady Amyra. His sons went astray on the way here, and he fears for them.”
“I took no offence, Your Grace,” you added, acting like you hadn’t laughed alongside Prince Maekar moments ago.
“Um, I trust they will not be found dead,” Ser Dunk assured obliviously.
It took everything in you to not laugh once again as Prince Maekar rose from his slouched position with a face that could only be described as sour. Ser Dunk took notice of the Prince before nodding his head in goodbye making his way out the door.
“Ser. You are not of Ser Arlan’s blood?” Prince Baelor asked, causing you to cast a glance Ser Dunk’s way. You already knew he was an orphan adopted by Ser Arlan but you were curious to know if he had more to say on the matter.
“No, I am not,” Ser Dunk admitted hesitantly.
“By law, only a trueborn son is entitled to inherit a knight’s arms. You must needs find a new device, ser. A sigil of your own,” Prince Baelor signaled to Ser Dunk’s shield.
“I will. Thank you again, Your Grace. I will fight bravely. You’ll see,” Ser Dunk nodded once more before taking his leave.
Lord Ashford turned towards you as soon as he had left, “Young lady, why were you walking around the halls with a hedge knight?”
All eyes in the room turned towards you, “Like I said, Lord Ashford. He helped me on the road when I was separated from my family and attacked. He was an honorable man and ensured I arrived safely so when I saw him entering the castle I tried to warn him against it,” your eyes met Prince Baelor’s before returning to Lord Ashford’s. “I did not wish trouble for him or yourself lord. I only wished to help avoid a troublesome situation. I apologize.”
Before Lord Ashford could speak, Prince Baelor beat him to it, “That is quite honorable Lady Brax although I do suggest you avoid repeating your actions. Foul gossip knows no bounds when it comes to those of noble blood.”
You held his gaze before nodding, “I will learn from my mistake, Your Grace. I appreciate the wise words.”
Prince Maekar scoffed at your clear flattery before drinking from the goblet in his hand.
“We have important things to discuss. Go along Lady Brax,” ordered Lord Ashford successfully allowing your escape from the room.
------
Your feet dragged you down the corridors away from the Targaryen Princes and towards the gardens near the back of the castle. You had overheard Ann speaking of its beauty with another maid in the morning. Their words had piqued your interest enough for you to want to see the beauty for yourself.
The sight that greeted you was beyond what plain words could describe. Flowers of all shapes, colors and sizes towered over you. The garden was beautifully intricate with each flower having its perfect place.
The stones used to mark the pathways were just as beautiful with them all being placed in intricate patterns. The wondrous sight had distracted you from the man that watched you from afar. He was shaded by a large arch of roses keeping him hidden if you didn’t know to look for him.
He approached slowly so as to not frighten you but was unsuccessful as you jumped back in fright as he appeared in your line of sight.
“Pardon me my lady. I did not mean to frighten you,” the man apologized, growing closer to you.
He was tall, not taller than Ser Dunk but tall nonetheless. His hair was a pretty chestnut color with a striking white streak on one side of his head. He wore a cloak pinned in place by a brooch with the Targaryen house sigil embossed onto it. Valarr Targaryen. Lord Ashford had mentioned him when telling you of the eligible men within the Targaryen family.
You glanced behind him as two knightguards stood nearby watching the conversation with careful eyes.
“My prince, there is no need to apologize. I was the one too distracted to greet you properly,” you bowed your head gently making yourself seem like any other lady.
“There’s no need to apologize. This garden is quite marvelous; anyone would be taken by its beauty. Pardon me but could I have your name, my lady?” Prince Valarr gazed at you in curiosity.
You tilted your head faking as if you were deep in thought, “Only if you can promise me one thing, Prince Valarr.”
The prince’s eyebrows raised in amusement as no other lady had ever replied in that way, “That depends on my lady. What is it you seek from me?”
You thought of the expressions Prince Baelor and Lord Ashford had worn when learning about your family name. You did not wish to be pitied even if it was the usual way people reacted when hearing of a situation like yours.
“Just don’t treat me differently my prince,” you replied, eyes meeting his mismatched ones.
His brows creased in concern but he nodded anyway, “I promise.”
“My name is Amyra from House Brax, my prince,” you watched as his gaze turned to one of understanding.
He understood all too well the pitying looks one received when there was a death within the family. He went through thousands of people he hardly knew giving their condolences when his mother had passed. It was tiring even if he knew they were being respectful.
“It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Amyra,” he raised your gloved hand up to his lips placing a chaste kiss to your knuckles.
The action did not go unnoticed as the knights behind the prince shared a look before straightening in place.
“The pleasure is all mine my prince,” you kept your eyes glued to his own.
He smiled in response, leading you further into the garden, “Will you be watching tonight’s tourney?”
“Lord Ashford requested me to go and as I can’t deny my gracious host I will be there,” you replied, gaze beginning to wander around the garden once more.
“You wish to miss the main entertainment?” he questioned tilting his head.
“Men running at each other with pointy sticks isn’t my idea of entertainment,” you shrugged your shoulders at him.
“I wouldn’t quite describe jousting in that manner but I understand how a lady wouldn’t be too interested in such a violent sport,” Prince Valarr nodded like he understood, turning towards you when you began to laugh lightly.
“The violence isn’t the issue, my prince. I quite like watching sword-fighting but jousting seems more about showing off rather than actual skill,” you said between laughs.
Prince Valarr went to reply but stopped himself as he realized you weren’t aware of his participation in the tourney. He shifted the conversation towards another topic circling the garden with you thrice before his knights reminded him he needed to get ready for the tourney.
“It seems your duties call for your attention, my prince. I bid you farewell.”
“I have a feeling we’ll see each other soon,” he replied, leaving you confused as he smiled to himself.
–––––
The day soon turned to night and you still hadn’t fed properly. Human food could only do so much before you began to grow overwhelmingly thirsty. Ann had dropped by earlier informing you of Lord Ashford’s request to have you leave together for the tourney.
After dressing yourself you made your way down the dark halls towards the front of the castle. You were gazing out the many windows letting the night breeze fill your senses when your body crashed into something hard sending you tumbling to the ground.
You looked up from your place on the ground to find a man standing above you obviously displeased. His hair was strikingly white making you realize you had bumped into yet another Targaryen.
His hair was cut short indicating that he was Prince Aerion Targaryen causing your eyes to widen in recognition.
“Prince Aerion, I apologize I should’ve kept my gaze on the path in front of me,” you stood quickly and bowed deeply hoping you’d escape the situation unscathed.
He scoffed, “Who are you?”
“My name is Amyra from House Brax, my prince.”
His gaze turned curious as he gazed at you, “You’re that girl everyone is speaking about. The sole survivor of your whole House.”
You took a breath before replying, “Yes, my prince.”
“Hmm,” he pursed his lips in disinterest, slowly gazing down your body before turning and walking away.
You waited until he was gone before continuing your journey towards the front of the castle making sure to pay attention to the path in front of you this time. Lord Ashford waited for you alongside his daughter, Prince Baelor and Prince Maekar.
“I apologize for the delay. I somehow got lost amongst the many halls,” you made up a lie for your delay not wanting to explain the run in with Prince Aerion.
“Very well, let us head towards the tourney. It should be starting soon,” Lord Ashford announced, leading you all towards the horses.
The horses seemed excessive but you supposed nobles weren’t used to walking much amongst their subjects, especially not Targaryens. The wild yells from the people reached your ears without the need of your powers exciting you.
Sure, you had told Prince Valarr that you cared very little for jousting but the people’s energy only caused yours to grow. Perhaps, the tourney wouldn’t turn out so boring after all.
Horns echoed through the open area below the viewing stand announcing your arrival alongside the Targaryen Princes and Lord Ashford. The crowd cheered as horses and their riders ran about the barren soil below giving them a small peak of what was to come.
Prince Baelor raised his hand in greeting listening to the cheers grow louder before sitting. Your chair was beside Lord Ashford unfortunately placing you next to the volatile Prince Aerion. Once again he took a glance at you tilting his head in thought before focusing on the knights below.
You bristled at his stare wanting nothing more than to tear into the vein bulging on the side of his pretty delicate neck. His constant air of superiority around you did nothing but anger you further which was not helped by your ever growing appetite. He was better than you as royalty but that fact did nothing to quell the fire burning in your throat.
Your focus was pulled back to the tourney when a knight with long hair yelled, “For the new Gods and old!”
You hid your disgust as the man took a bite of a raw fish chewing it brashly before swallowing. The crowd grew louder at his performance, men, women and children alike yelling in support at his vulgar display.
You scoffed under your breath, capturing the attention of Prince Aerion once more.
“Too violent a sight for you my lady?” Prince Aerion teased being careful to not be overheard by his father a couple of seats away.
“Violent? No. Vulgar? Yes, my prince,” you replied, eyes meeting his.
It was a shame he had such a disastrous reputation he was quite pretty when he wasn’t sneering.
“Vulgar? You have not experienced vulgar a day in your life Lady Amyra,” Prince Aerion retorted, deciding you were more entertaining than whatever knights were fighting down below.
Your mind flashed back to your killing of the real Lady Amyra causing a smirk to take over your lips, “I suppose you are correct my prince.”
“Of course I am correct. A soft, spoiled lady as yourself has never been exposed to the realities of this world,” Prince Aerion grew closer to whisper his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth for a brief second.
Your eyes strayed to his lips before returning to his eyes which now watched you with a glint of intrigue which caused your thirst to turn ravenous. Before you could reply the shouting of a familiar voice reached your ears.
“Helmet!”
Prince Valarr with armor decorated in dragon-esque features sat atop a beautiful horse catching your gaze across the list field. A smirk grazed his lips as he put on his helmet without breaking eye contact.
He looked different as he held his lance and shield. He looked bigger, more confident. Prince Aerion followed your line of sight scoffing as he reached the end of it. You refused to turn away as the crowd grew silent and the knights prepared themselves.
“Lord Ashford fucks his sheep!” yelled someone causing the crowd to dissolve into laughter.
Lord Ashford glanced around awkwardly while the Targaryen Princes pretended not to hear for his own benefit. Before the crowd could continue in their laughter the horn signaling the beginning of the tourney blew loudly cutting off any further humiliation for Lord Ashford.
The horses took off pushed forward by their riders. Wood splintered in the air as lances met shields in a dangerous collision. Squires ran around hurriedly to provide the knights with fresh lances. The sight did little to satiate your boredom. Other than Prince Valarr’s striking figure the tourney did nothing but push you further into a lethargic cycle.
Feigning womanly pains you managed to excuse yourself from the rest of the tourney assuring Lord Ashford you would be fine without an escort back to your room. The familiar path you had followed the day before greeted you as shadows danced along the dark and empty roads. Most people were still occupied with the tourney creating the perfect opportunity for you to feed.
Drunk men stumbled around making them easy pickings for you to feed on. Two men wandered down a secluded alley slurring their words and stumbling over their own feet. You waited until one of them lagged behind, quickly pressing him against the wall and sinking your fangs into his neck. Your hand clamped over his mouth prohibiting him from making any noise.
He went quite rapidly, his blood thinning from all the ale he had consumed. You dropped his empty body unceremoniously at your feet hurrying over to his companion and repeating your previous actions.
A satisfied sigh left your lips as the dryness in your throat was replaced by the velvetiness feeling of blood. The red liquid coated your lips causing your tongue to reach out and wipe them clean. You swallowed slowly before dropping the second man down on the ground stepping over his corpse and making your way to your room.
SUMMARY ➤ being a blood-sucking monster often left you without friends but with one turn of luck you end up with more than you bargained for. will you survive or will the dragon eat you whole?
・❥・ based on this prompt
・❥・ not sure how many chapters i’ll do but seven minimum will be written for now
CONTAINS ➤ 1.2k+ words. set during season four but isn't inside the canon timeline. platonic!characters x reader. ☁︎ featuring: steve harrington. robin buckley. mike wheeler. lucas sinclair. eleven hopper. max mayfield. will byers. dustin henderson.
┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ NOTE ➤ lol did not intend for this to fall on day eleven on purpose
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─── ❅ Keeping six teenage kids entertained for more than five minutes was proving to be more difficult than you had anticipated. Especially when said kids had saved the world three times over already.
Joyce and Karen had asked you to supervise the kids’ monthly sleepover after they had left a mess at the last one. You thought it’d be easy you’d order some pizzas, rent some movies and make sure they all stayed in Mike’s basement.
Wrong.
It was everything but easy. Mike and El had gotten into a fight which Max had further aggravated and the girls refused to sit with him. Lucas had tried to diffuse the situation which had caused him to be thrown into the ‘do not talk to’ pile.
Will sat with Dustin, both of them watching the fight go down silently. Well, Will was silent. Dustin kept adding commentary like he was watching a wrestling match on TV.
After an hour-long argument over what to watch you decided to call reinforcements in the shape of Robin and Steve.
Divide and conquer.
Steve took Mike and Lucas under his arms walking off while giving them relationship advice both teens were choosing to ignore. Robin grabbed a hold of Dustin and Will’s attention by putting on a movie in the VCR.
Meanwhile, you took El and Max upstairs opting to make the girls a giant sundae while they vented about the boys downstairs.
“Mike always treats her like she’s not her own person,” argued Max raising her voice.
“Not own person,” repeated El, licking ice cream off her spoon.
You sighed, “Look, we all know boys are idiots but Mike is trying to keep you safe El. He definitely needs to work on his delivery but shouldn’t he get points for thinking of you first?”
The girls kept silent thinking over your words.
“Plus, Max, Lucas only got involved to stop a fight not to contradict you,” Max huffed at your words, her anger dissipating by the second.
“Yeah, Mike cares,” admitted El thinking back to all the times Mike had fought to keep her safe.
“I guess Lucas was just trying to help,” Max added, playing around with the ice cream in her bowl.
“Now, can we all agree to get along? At least for tonight?” you asked eyes pleading for their support
The girls shared a look before nodding.
“Oh, thank you! I was about to cry,” you joked, putting away the dirty dishes.
Your eyes caught sight of the snow outside, an idea popping into your mind, “Come with me. I have an idea.”
Max and El followed you around the house as you gathered buckets and shovels. Once you had gathered all your items you descended down into the basement.
“Hey! Everyone, get your coats on and follow me,” you caught everyone’s attention wrapping yourself up in your scarf before heading outside.
The others did as you said, layering up before following you outside with curious glances. They glanced at the items in your hand confused as to what you had in mind.
“Okay! Teams are as follows: Steve, Will, Max and Lucas are team one! Me, El, Mike and Dustin are team two! Robin will be the judge,” you began to pass out the buckets and shovels evenly between the teams, “We will have one hour to make the best snow fort that we can. Robin will judge the forts at the end and the winning team chooses the movie and pizza toppings for tonight.”
Robin immediately stepped into her role, “I will judge based on three things; sturdiness, uniqueness and aesthetic. Make me proud!”
Steve and Lucas immediately dropped to the snow beginning to shovel snow into the buckets to form them into shapes. Max ran to the side of the house filling one bucket with water to help carve out any shapes. Will began to make an outline on the snow with a stick nodding along to any of Max’s input.
“All right guys. We need to make a plan. Mike you’re in charge of the snow buckets, El you will carry the water buckets, Dustin you and I will begin to carve out the shapes and form the outer layer,” you assigned roles to everyone dispersing to begin doing your job.
Mike did as he was told, dropping snow buckets upside down on the outline you and Dustin had shaped out. El brought over a water bucket using her powers to snake the water through the snow to melt patterns into the outside.
“Nice, El!” you exclaimed watching in awe as she made intricate lines carve themselves into the thick snow.
“Hey! That’s cheating!” yelled Steve watching as El used her powers.
“Using El’s skills is not cheating,” interrupted Robin.
“But-,” Steve started before he was interrupted once again.
“But nothing dingus! I’m the judge, I make the rules!” Robin blew a whistle cutting him off from saying anything else.
When had she gotten a whistle?
The building continued, excited chatter building between both teams as the forts grew in size and detail.
“Oh.”
“My.”
“God.”
Dustin, Mike and you muttered watching your fort in awe.
“Alright teams, gather!” announces Robin pointing to two spots next to her.
Steve pretended to slice across his neck before booing you with a thumbs down. You mimicked the sign back sticking out your tongue for extra flare.
Max and Lucas glared at Mike and Dustin while El and Will just shared a smile.
Robin hummed before rounding Steve’s team’s fort poking at one section softly before nodding, “Okay.”
She moved onto your team’s form next, almost pressing her face into the fort to take in the detail, “Interesting.”
She pulled out a notepad from her pocket writing down her thoughts peeking over at both forts every couple of seconds.
“They’re forts not rockets. Come on Robin, hurry up,” Max yelled, anxious to know who the winner was.
“Alright don’t rush my judgement,” Robin cocked one eyebrow at Max before looking down at her notepad once more, “The winner is…….Team Dingus!”
Steve’s team immediately erupted into cheers, Lucas and Max embracing each other happily. Steve pulled Will into a side hug yelling loudly in happiness.
“It’s rigged!” Dustin yelled immediately, moving to take Robin’s notepad.
“Nuh-uh mini dingus. My notepad is sacred. I’ll explain my judgement,” Robin hid her notepad before continuing, “Sturdiness was a point for Steve’s team, aesthetic was definitely for your team which tied you but Steve’s team won with uniqueness. Look, he has gargoyles. Snow gargoyles perched on the top.”
You nodded in agreement, finally focusing on Steve’s team’s fort. Mike and Dustin stood down agreeing that their fort was more unique.
“Guess we're having pepperoni and mushrooms for dinner,” gloated Max pulling Lucas towards the house.
“Can we watch E.T.?” asked Will looking over at his team.
“He wants E.T. He gets E.T.,” announced Steve dragging Will towards the front door.
You placed a comforting arm around Dustin, “Come on let’s head on inside before we freeze.”
The rest of your team followed behind you Mike with an arm around El recounting how she had used the water. You watched happily as both couples in the group were back together, your plan working just as planned.
CONTAINS ➤ 2k+ words. fem!reader. reader's nickname is birdie on account of her aloof nature and proclivity for watching the sky. sirius & remus are together in this. ☁︎ featuring: james potter.
┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ NOTE ➤ i love writting jealousy <3
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─── ❅ Hogwarts was bustling with chatter as people ran around with the recently exciting news of the Winter Ball. Headmaster Dumbledore had announced the news earlier during breakfast causing the entire student body to be completely overtaken with thoughts of dates, dresses and suits.
You were sitting with your friends in the courtyard under a tree chatting over possible suitors for the Winter Ball.
“We know who Peter is going to ask,” teased Marlene watching said boy turn five different shades of red in a minute.
“There’s no question about Sirius and Remus,” added Lily watching them be sickenly sweet to each other.
“What about you?” Marlene nudged you with her foot, taking your attention away from the cloud in the sky you were watching.
James tensed slightly from his position next to you listening carefully for your reply.
“Hmm? Oh, I’m not sure,” you answered distractedly, missing the way James relaxed beside you.
Remus and Sirius ever the observants did notice James behavior deciding to schedule the talk for later. Asking James while you and their other friends were there would lead to nothing other than denial.
The conversation continued eventually turning from dates into dresses and shoes and suits. Sirius made himself comfortable on the grass watching the way James watched you.
Your gaze was back to the sky watching the wind move the clouds along. The group would often catch you watching the sky whether it was sunny, cloudy or nightfall. They knew they could find you outside with your head turned up.
Something about the sky above you called to you like a moth to a flame. If you could watch it forever, you would.
——————
James dropped onto his bed with a groan tired after Quidditch practice. Sirius entered the room with a towel around his hair watching James with a sly expression.
James noticed his gaze immediately, “What?”
Sirius hummed, “Nothing.”
“You have that look in your eye. Like you know something I don’t,” retorted James lifting his head off his pillow.
“Seems like you were very interested on what our dear Birdie had to say about taking a date to the Winter Ball,” Sirius crossed the dorm settling on his bed with a knowing expression.
James tried to hide his reaction, “I don’t know what you’re insinuating but you’re wrong.”
“How can I be wrong if you don’t know what I’m talking about?” Sirius threw James’ words back at him enjoying the way he squirmed.
“Wrong about what?” questioned Remus dropping his bag by the foot of his bed.
“That James over here wants to be Birdie’s date to the Winter ball or at very minimum doesn’t want her going with anyone else,” Sirius laughed as he thwarted the incoming pillow to the face watching as James’ face rapidly darkened into crimson.
“Moony, tell him he’s wrong,” whined James covering his face with the last pillow on his bed.
“I would but he isn’t wrong,” Remus smiled over at Sirius, their plan to get you and James together finally beginning.
First, they had to get James to see past his obliviousness and admit that he liked you. A little hard when he was so intent on being daft but they’d find a way.
James only groaned in despair at his words, keeping his head under his pillow to hide his feelings.
——————-
The first step of Sirius and Remus’ plan had been put into motion. Sirius had come up with the brilliant plan to make James jealous so he could realize the meaning behind his actual feelings.
Their plan actually took no effort on their side to begin as your day was filled with boys asking you to be their dates. Unfortunately, those boys didn’t know your knack for having your head in the clouds and their intentions went straight over your pretty little head. When their intentions were actually noticed they ended in swift but soft rejection.
The sentiment was the same nonetheless as they watched James' jaw clench and his fists tighten. He was jealous.
Fortunately for them and unfortunately for James the onslaught of suitors at your door didn’t end when the day did. You tried to find solace in the library after sundown but it seemed like they were intent on following you around.
Finally, you managed to catch your breath in the Gryffindor common room seeing as everyone but James knew how he felt about you.
You dropped unceremoniously onto the couch next to Lily, “Godric, the day I’ve had.”
Lily patted your head comfortingly, “There, there. Maybe you’ll wake up ugly tomorrow.”
You laughed at her words poking her side before settling down once more.
“That many huh?” asked Sirius, ensuring to pull James closer to the conversation.
“Oh, you would not believe it! They followed me everywhere! This is the longest moment of peace I’ve had since the Winter Ball was announced,” your arms wrapped themselves around Lily’s middle using her to comfort yourself.
“Well, Birdie, you’re a hot commodity,” Sirius's words were followed by a yelp as Marlene and Remus slapped the back of his head.
“She’s not an object,” chastised Marlene.
“Don’t say that,” added Remus.
“It was a compliment and a metaphor. Jeez, you guys should have let me finish,” whined Sirius rubbing the back of his head.
James, in a way he thought was subtle, moved to sit next to you leaning in as he whispered, “If anyone is giving you trouble I can deal with them.”
“Oh, James, that’s lovely but don’t worry they’ve all been very gracious in accepting their rejections,” you smiled in that way he adored and his gaze fell on Sirius who was already watching him.
He rolled his eyes at his knowing look avoiding looking in his direction for the rest of the night.
What he missed was the knowing looks Lily and Marlene gave you as you gulped nervously at James’ closeness.
——————
James had grown increasingly frustrated with the amount of men that continued to line up to try and vie for your attention.
Unluckily for him there was a rumor going around that you had already chosen someone to go with you to the ball. No one knew who it was but rumors didn’t care for facts they cared for the drama.
Some people had said you were going with Sirius after Remus had caught you both in an indecent position. Others said it was the other way around and Sirius had decided to take you both to the ball as a throuple.
Many said you had dipped your toe into the dark side and had decided to go with Evan Rosier which really made James’ blood boil. He knew you’d never go with a Slytherin but it ticked him off nonetheless.
The rumor continued to spread when you had been partnered up with said Slytherin for a project. Being around him so often when the ball was around the corner only served to fuel the gossip. Evan added to the rumor by refusing to deny or confirm it relishing in the glares James continuously sent his way. A pissed off Gryffindor was worth the trouble in his mind after all.
All the animosity came to a peak on a seemingly horrible morning turned into a horrible day. James woke up late meaning he had no time to eat breakfast if he wanted to make it to class on time.
A hungry James meant an irritable James which meant his usual cold shoulder to Evan’s badgering was cut short as he threw a punch after Evan’s fifth mention of your name.
Of course the rest of Evan’s friends got involved which meant Sirius and Remus had to throw themselves in the mix causing all of those involved to be punished.
You paced outside McGonagall’s classroom waiting for your friends to be let out. The first to exit were Evan and his friends. They threw amused glances your way but didn’t utter a word as they made their ways back to the Slytherin common room.
Sirius and Remus followed quickly after the both of them stopping right in front of you.
“Can you talk to him?” asked Remus glancing over at the door to see if James was listening.
You nodded along already planning to speak to James, “Of course, you guys can head back to the common room. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
Sirius kissed your cheek in goodbye before being dragged away by a waving Remus.
James was last to leave as he held the door open for Professor McGonagall before closing it shut behind him. He avoided your eyes, his gaze stuck on the floor beneath his feet.
“James, what happened?” you tentatively raised your arm to rest your hand on his arm.
“He was just,” James cut himself off, wincing as the adrenaline from the fight wore off and the pain hit him all over.
“Come on, let’s go to Madam Pomfrey’s,” you took his arm carefully, beginning to lead him away.
“No, I’m fine. Either way, it’s late and if Filch catches us out and about he’ll give us detention,” he took your arm and led you towards the Gryffindor common room instead.
“He said something about you. About how easy it had been to get you to be his date to the Winter Ball. He made it sound like you had practically been on your knees for him,” his jaw ticked in anger the words still replaying in his head
“But it isn’t true? I have no date to the Winter Ball,” your voice came out confused.
James sighed, “I know but I still couldn’t let him insinuate it.”
“Why?” your head tilted in intrigue, his words spiking your curiosity.
“Because it’s you,” he replied like it was the most obvious thing ever.
“Me?” you copied his tone, eyes widening.
“Yes, you. I hated the way he was speaking about you. I hated that he even had the gall to insinuate that you’d ever look his way in anything other than disgust,” he ranted, turning in place to face you stopping you dead in your tracks.
“I get that you care about me James but I don’t want you getting into fights over me,” you grabbed onto his shoulder hoping he’d see reason.
The words began to tumble out of his mouth before he could stop them, “Godric, I don’t just care for you. I love you.”
“What?” your voice came out as a whisper but James heard you clearly.
“I love you. I’m sick of having to pretend that I’m not burning inside every time another guy dares to ask you out. I’m tired of pretending like I don’t wake with the thought of you already on my mind,” James brought you closer glancing down at your lips before his gaze fell on your eyes, “ And I’m done with pretending like my heart doesn’t race every single time you deem me worthy of your acknowledgement.”
Your palm fell against his chest as he leaned closer towards you. He paused, giving you time to push him away before diving in and capturing your lips with his. The kiss was hungry and messy as he wasted no time in showing you how he felt.
You pulled apart to breath, eyes glinting in the light and chests heaving from oxygen deprivation.
“If it wasn’t clear I feel the same way,” you pulled him closer once more, taking your chance to kiss him just as fiercely.
“I know it’s late but love, would you do me the honor of letting me be your date to the Winter Ball?” regardless of what had just transpired a small inkling of anxiety made its way into his chest.
“All this time I was waiting for you. Hoping for you to ask me,” you confessed.
James' mouth broke into his usual boyish grin as he kissed you once more, growing addicted to the feeling of your lips on his.
“I’m glad I fought Evan,” he teased, resting his forehead on yours.
“That is not the lesson to take from this,” regardless of your words your body shook with laughter.
Unbeknownst to the both of you two people celebrated as they watched from afar.
CONTAINS ➤ 1.2k+ words. gn!reader. best friends to lovers. fluff. reader has hair long enough to fall in their face. he’s 24 for plot purposes. ☁︎ featuring: damian wayne.
┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ NOTE ➤ i believe he’d excel in his studies & be the youngest of his peers in residency.
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─── ❅ Damian Wayne was sophisticated, mature, intelligent and skilled. He was brought up differently to his other peers at school. His manners and poise were on a completely different level than even those of his brothers.
Even his father, Bruce Wayne, stepped outside of his carefully curated persona in the comfort of his own home but Damian couldn’t allow himself the same luxury. He had to be perfect. He is perfect.
Which is why he was confused as to how he had let himself be roped into a cookie decorating contest by you of all people. You who acted the complete opposite of him.
He had first met you when he had unluckily (luckily) been partnered up with you for a school project. From then on you had refused to leave his side.
He had been apprehensive at first finding your lack of decorum infuriating. Damian was confused the day he had begun to look over his shoulder for your figure. He felt like he had been compromised when he saved the seat beside him like it was muscle memory. Without trying you had infiltrated his life and his mind and much to his chagrin he wasn’t opposed to your presence, not anymore.
Just like that, he had spent half his life with you by his side, always steady, always there. Soon, you had transitioned from high school hallways and teenage drama into college dorms and job interviews. Yet you still managed to stay by his side.
When he had decided to leave Robin behind to transition his life into doing good in the light of day under his own name you stood by him.
Continuously, you supported him through the long study nights, the never ending shifts and the most important of all, the times he couldn’t prevent the loss of someone’s life.
You never pushed him to talk or told him everything was going to work out but somehow he knew that it would as long as you stood by his side.
Yet all of that didn’t trump the fact that he was above juvenile contests over things like cookie decorating.
Maybe he hadn’t let go of his competitive streak. In truth, he had never grown out of it, only applying it in his studies and work rather than to beat his brothers to a case.
At least that’s what he told himself as he caught himself watching you move around his kitchen placing bowls of candy in front of the kitchen island.
“I’m not taking care of you if you get sick after eating all that candy,” he announced, pushing off the wall he had been leaning on to approach your setup.
“We both know you will,” you smiled while shaking your head at him knowing how truthful your words were.
Early in your college years you had been hit by the worst flu known to man and he had waited on you hand and foot, even if he tried to deny it.
“Let’s just start,” he sighed, rolling up the sleeves of his pajama shirt.
You handed him an apron to keep his clothes free of any mess before putting on a matching one. If either of you got dirty you’d have to change into different clothes.
“Alright, once we’re done we will present the cookies to your family and they will judge without knowing who made which cookies!”
“That sounds fair,” he murmured before getting to work.
You put on a Christmas music playlist adjusting the volume so it was audible but not loud. The familiar songs caused you to hum along as you piped a layer of white on a snowman shaped cookie.
Occasionally you’d glance over at Damian watching as his face screwed up in concentration. He did the same watching your progress and how you’d slightly stick out your tongue while you focused.
He watched you draw on a scarf for the snowman with a hum.
“What?” you asked, your eyes not leaving your cookie.
“Nothing, just seems like an odd color for a scarf,” he claimed, eyes moving back to his own work.
“Orange is a normal color,” you retorted, adding black dots for the eyes and mouth.
“If you say so,” he teased, keeping his face neutral.
“Focus on your own cookie,” you pouted doubt creeping in at your color choice.
He watched your pout with soft eyes, “I was only teasing.”
You huffed at his words before using one of the candy bowls to block his view. He laughed at your dramatics, deciding to stop teasing you.
“Alright! Next cookie,” you said, dropping a snowflake shaped cookie onto his plate.
The next minutes were spent in a relaxing quiet, the sound of Christmas music playing softly in the background. You wiped a stray strand of hair out of your face with the back of your hand accidentally smearing a streak of icing on it.
Damian turned towards you, reaching a hand out, “You have some icing on your face.”
The back of your hand swiped against your cheek once again, smearing the icing even more.
“No, here let me,” Damian reached his hand out towards your cheek, softly wiping away the icing before pausing.
Your head was angled towards him and he noticed how close he had gotten without meaning to. He brushed the falling strand of hair behind your ear securing it in place.
“Thanks,” your voice came out in a whisper wavering under his closeness.
He didn’t reply, opting instead to drag his hand to cup your cheek before he could lose his confidence, “Do you feel as I do?”
You gulped in anticipation, “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” he replied, tilting your face upwards.
His breath caught in his throat at the look in your eyes. Like you had been waiting for this moment for as long as he had. Maybe you had.
You nodded words failing you as emotions swirled in your chest.
“I won’t move forward without a verbal confirmation,” he whispered, eyes falling down to your lips before going back to your eyes.
“I do,” you replied.
He wasted no time in capturing your lips with his own tilting your head further to properly kiss you. The kiss was soft, patient and sweet, everything Damien pretended he wasn’t.
But you knew the truth. He might be sharp around the edges and he can often not realize when his words hurt others but inside he was still the same boy that fed any stray animal that crossed his path.
He was still the boy that waited for you every time you’d stay late at the library to walk you home. He was soft, patient and sweet. Everything you knew he was scared to show—to say.
But he had already shown you who he was inside with every single act. Others might not understand but you knew him well enough to know that every sharp word was riddled with worry, that every time he scolded you was laced with concern and that every glare of his eyes was filled with care.
He saw you and you saw him.
Bonus:
For some reason Tim found a plate of half-decorated cookies alongside discarded candy, “Maybe Alfred got interrupted.”
He picked up two cookies scurrying away with his new-found snack before anyone could steal them from him.
CONTAINS ➤ 1k+ words. reader is one year younger than fred. the war never happened. fluff. fem!reader. ☁︎ featuring: fred weasley.
┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ NOTE ➤ <3
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─── ❅ Spending your winter at the Burrow was an infinite upgrade from spending it with your brother, Harry, alone at Hogwarts. Most winter breaks you’d opt out of going home, if you could call it that, to stay at Hogwarts to avoid your aunt’s family for as long as possible.
Ever since Mrs.Weasley found out that the two of you had spent the past years at Hogwarts instead of home she told Ron to invite you over. From that year on you never spent another Christmas alone.
“Fred, George, stop that! We have guests and I don’t want to have a mess,” yelled Mrs.Weasley as Fred and George used one of their prank prototypes, almost blowing up one of their mother’s pots.
“Ginny! Open the door dear,” continued Mrs.Weasley using her wand to roll out some dough on the counter.
Ginny ran to the door excitedly, swinging it open to reveal Harry and you with your bags in hand. She pulled you into a hug before waving shyly at Harry. Your brother returned the gesture before following the two of you into the house.
Warmth settled onto your chest at the sight of Fred and George running around, Ron laying on the couch and Mrs.Weasley’s cooking wafting through the air. It felt like a home away from home, something that you never thought you’d ever have. It made you happy to have such an amazing place to go to and feel like you belonged.
“Hey,” Fred stopped in front of you leaning down to give you a quick kiss.
That and seeing your boyfriend under one roof was enough to convince you to never want to leave.
George greeted you with a hug, “Maybe now my brother will stop being such a wanker.”
The both of you laughed at his joke while George used you as a shield to keep himself safe from his brother.
“All of you get ready for lunch!” yelled Mrs.Weasley which was the only way she’d be heard over everyone’s excited chatter.
Ginny grabbed a hold of your hand dragging you up to her room where Hermione was waiting.
“Hermione!” you brought her into a tight hug, happy to see her once more.
“Alright! I saw you a week ago,” laughed Hermione but her grip tightened around you nonetheless.
“I know but I missed you,” you whined, finally letting her free.
The girls laughed at your words, already used to your dramatics. The three of you washed up for lunch changing into warm comfortable clothes before descending the ever so many stairs to the kitchen.
It seemed like all the others were finished before the three of you, all of them watching Mrs.Weasley’s feast impatiently.
“Merlin, you three take forever,” grumbled Ron, finally biting into a drumstick.
You took a seat between your brother and Fred, sending a look across the table to Hermione who sat between Ginny and Ron.
“Hush, a lady may take as long as she needs,” Mrs.Weasly said, passing around another round of bread for the table.
“Lady, right,” snorted Ron, hiding his laugh by taking another bite.
He gasped sharply as Hermione dug the heel of her foot into his toes. You smirked at his expression already knowing Hermione had retaliated for all of you.
Lunch continued without a hitch as you all happily chatted about anything and everything. The Burrow seemed to get warmer although the temperature remained unchanged.
After dinner you helped Mrs.Weasley organize the dishes humming happily as you put them away.
“Dear, it’s always nice to have a helping hand,” Mrs.Weasley said, watching as you put the last of the plates away.
“I’ll always be happy to help when you need me Mrs.Weasley,” you beamed up at her, grateful that she had opened her house for you and your brother.
“Knock, knock. I’m here to steal the princess away from the dark dungeon,” joked Fred stepping into the room.
Mrs.Weasley rolled her eyes fondly, “Go on.”
Fred grabbed your wrist gently leading you through the house and towards the front door, “Grab your coat it’s cold outside.”
You did as he said, wrapping yourself up with your coat and scarf ensuring it was snug around you.
He grabbed you once more leading you around the side of the house, “Close your eyes.”
Your eyes screwed shut trusting him blindly literally and metaphorically. The snow from the previous night crunched under your foot alerting you to the change of path under your boots.
“Okay, you can open them now,” he announced, dropping your wrist softly.
The sight that greeted you was one full of magic. Before you sat three six foot tall snowmen decorated with rocks, twigs and left over clothes.
The snowmen danced around in circles moving along with the help of a spell. They twirled around you rapidly making some of their decorations fall off.
“Fred, this is amazing,” you laughed watching in awe as the snowmen moved.
“Yeah? Watch this,” he said, pulling out his wand to make the snowmen follow his lead. They began to dance in synchronization moving along to a silent song.
Fred’s gaze fell on your joyous one watching the sparkle in your eye grow bigger. Ever since you had first become friends he had made it his life’s goal to fill your life with magic. Knowing that you were raised by a woman as horrible as your aunt, he wanted your life to only be easy and happy from then on.
Your head turned to meet his gaze, a giant smile taking over as he brought you into his arms.
“Thank you,” your arms tightened around him, grateful he constantly acted to make you happy.
He didn’t reply but the kiss he pressed to your temple was enough for you to know how he felt. He was happy to make you happy, even if it included spending hours in the snow to make giant snowmen. He’d do it all over again if it meant he got to see that light in your eyes.
