・❥・ 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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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.
guys sorry for the lack of update i lost my laptop and im also currently in japan so i have nothing but my phone with me i’ll resume writing as soon as im back home and can get a new laptop/find my lost one
・❥・ 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
・❥・ masterlist ・❥・ series masterlist
・❥・ next chapter ・❥・ prev chapter
✶⋆.˚ reblogs and replies are highly appreciated .ᐟ
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.
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
・❥・ 1.2k+ 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: first time writing anything for this universe let me know what you think
・❥・ masterlist ・❥・ series masterlist
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✶⋆.˚ reblogs and replies are highly appreciated .ᐟ
Thump. Thump. Thump. The predator could hear the distinct heartbeat echoing through the endless woods. A sharp exhale and the crunching of leaves followed as she stalked her prey.
The lady whom she sought after was beginning to panic at the eerie quiet blanketing the woods. The animals knew a predator was afoot and they’d rather her be eaten than them.
The lady had no choice but to forsake her hiding spot to try and make a run for the edge of the woods. Although she knew she’d never make it, she had to try. Fallen branches snapped loudly under her feet betraying her location.
An eerie hum filled the air sweet as syrup and coated her ears causing her to freeze in fright. The melody seemed to dance between the breeze tormenting her with every note.
A blur to her right unsettled the dead foliage on the ground causing it to raise in the air in a whirlwind before falling. The lady whimpered at the sight clutching her dress tightly. She could tell that whatever was hunting her was choosing not to pursue her while she stood idly by. It craved the adrenaline—it needed the chase.
Perhaps she could survive the night if she didn’t tempt her predator by showing her fear, “What do you want from me?!”
The woods remained quiet—not a single noise heard. The night grew darker as clouds covered the crescent in the sky making it harder to see for the lady.
Meanwhile, the predator watched from the shadows lying in wait for the lady’s fear to consume her.
The predator could hear the lady’s breath quicken as her chest rose rapidly within the confinements of her tight bodice. She could feel the lady’s tremors as she tried to keep herself upright. Sweat sweetened the air causing the predator to lick her lips in an attempt to taste it.
The predator waited for a moment before letting out a chilling whistle. The lady turned in place hoping to pinpoint where the sound originated from only to be met with more silence. Her legs moved on their own accord carrying her away from where she stood. The darkness seemed to lighten as the sun raised in the distance.
“I can make it,” whispered the lady making a rapid dash towards the treeline littered by sun rays.
Her legs quickened their pace as she began to see the end of the treeline. A prickle of hope began to poke her as she saw the end of her torture within her grasp only to scream as the monster from the dark pounced on her.
The harrowing sound filled the air only to be silenced as the monster bit deeply into the lady in her arms. The sudden quiet was agonizing as the world took in the truth of the lady’s fate.
The blood flowed quickly into her mouth coating the inside in a deep red. The viscous liquid descended down her throat replenishing her body and coating her tastebuds with a delicious taste.
A laugh scratched at the predator’s throat only quieting at the sound of thundering footsteps heading her way.
Her speed was otherworldly as she stripped the lady and wore her clothes. A handkerchief swiped across her mouth cleaning any evidence of what she had done and the body was quickly hidden from sight just in time as a tall man broke through the treeline.
“Are you alright m’lady? I heard a scream.”
The predator willed tears to cascade down her pretty face, wetting it as they descended.
A sob left her mouth as she looked up to the man, “Ser, please help me. I am lost and can’t seem to make my way out of this maze. I was separated from my family during the night and I fear I’ve caused quite the mess by wandering off on my own.”
The man took in the woman’s appearance noting the high quality of dress she wore. It was soiled with dirt and leaves but the cost could be seen clearly. She was a highborn lady asking for his help.
“I can help. What is your name m’lady?” The man stepped closer slowly.
The woman racked her brain to remember the area she was in, to remember who she had killed. A smile graced her lips, “Amryn Brax, Ser. What is yours?”
“Dunk, Ser Dunk,” he stumbled through his words attempting to stand taller to fake confidence.
“A pleasure Ser Dunk. I am thankful the Seven have been graceful enough to have sent you to save me,” she softened her eyes on cue as she looked up at the man.
The man gulped slightly at the sight wondering if he was hallucinating. The beautiful woman in front of him surely wasn’t blushing at the sight of him. He blinked slowly trying to come up with a reply, “Where were you going Lady Brax?”
“I cannot remember Ser. Unfortunately, I was not one to listen closely when my father addressed me. All I remember is the mention of a tourney?” She hid her smile using the information she had gathered the previous week to soften the man into believing her lie.
“A tourney? For Lady Gwin Ashford?” Dunk questioned her innocently falling deeper into her lie.
“Yes, Ser. I believe that is correct!” Amryn beamed with false joy, satisfied that her ploy had settled itself.
Dunk smiled at her words, “You are in luck m’lady. I am heading that way as well.”
His earnestness caused her to almost feel bad, almost being the important point. In a world where the powerful ruled and the weak kneeled, she was not going to be the latter.
“You can borrow Chestnut for the journey,” Dunk led her out of the woods and towards the road motioning to one of the three horses he rode with.
His eagerness to help created a pause within Lady Amryn’s thoughts. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as guilt began to gnaw at her. Perhaps she’d let him live once their journey was finished. There was no need to shed his blood.
Dunk mistook her look for one of discomfort, “While I cannot provide a pavilion worthy of m’lady, I can provide some mild comfort on the road. I can hunt and I assure you I will keep you safe, m’lady.”
“Ser, I did not mean to offend,” Amryn replied, eyes widening in slight discomposure.
“There is an inn up the road. We can rest there properly to lessen your discomfort m’lady,” Dunk bowed his head waiting for her reply.
A small laugh startled him, “Ser, I was deep in thought is all. I am not a stranger to traveling long distances on horseback.”
“Nevertheless, a lady should be kept safe and comfortable. We will stop at the inn at least for some supper and a proper bed for the night,” Dunk nodded his head once at her.
“Alright, Ser, if you insist,” Amryn couldn’t help the small twitch of her lips as he turned and almost walked into his own horse.
He gripped the lead to Chestnut before leading her towards Lady Amryn carefully so as to not frighten her.
Lady Amryn reached towards Chestnut waiting for any reaction before petting her tenderly. Chestnut released a soft snort before leaning into her touch.
“She likes you,” noted Dunk, unable to look away from Lady Amryn’s soft expression.
“And I her,” replied Amryn, smiling softly.
“Here,” Dunk helped Amryn onto the horse with a careful hand before climbing onto his own.
The pair clicked their tongues in sync, finally moving away from the woods. Lady Amryn sent one final look towards the trees—teeth glinting as she walked away unpunished from her kill.
CONTAINS ➤ 2.4k+ words. fem!reader. reader has hair long enough to be put in rollers. friends to lovers. mutual pining. ☁︎ featuring: steve harrington.
┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ NOTE ➤ sorry for the wait !!
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─── ❅ Hawkins had a habit of making you feel small. A small town with small-minded people didn’t leave much room for error. People often threw the word freak around as soon as someone stepped outside of the status quo.
Take Jonathan Byers as an example. He put importance and priority on his camera and photography skills. School was often just a way for him to use all the expensive development equipment he couldn’t afford.
Which caused you to inadvertently fear any misstep on your part. It would be mortifying to be classed as a freak just because you were a little too into science fiction.
At least that’s what you used to think right before almost getting killed by a Demodog. You had started to use the junkyard as your base to indulge in your interests, often just sitting there and reading for hours.
Unfortunately, the day you had chosen to treat yourself to a little time on your small robot project. It had been a tough go from the start. Finding all the correct parts in your small town was hard. After that, your robot kept short-circuiting the batteries you had used all too weak to keep it running.
“Ugh! Stupid thing!” you yelled, shoving the robot away from you.
The robot stared back at you almost mockingly when the door to the bus you sat in sprung open. That’s where you met Steve Harrington and three kids now known to you as Dustin, Lucas and Max.
They had tried to warn you to make you leave but you stubbornly refused to. You weren’t going to let the only place of solace be intruded upon when they wouldn’t even give you a proper reason.
The things you experienced that night were enough to give you nightmares but you’d never regret staying. Even if your life was continuously in danger it was worth the friends you gained in addition to the space to finally be yourself.
“Please! I’m on my knees! It’s bad enough my dad cut me off but if I go home for Christmas with no date on my arm they will force one on me!” pleaded Steve following you into the backroom of the Family Video you both worked at.
“Oh my god! Just say yes so he can shut up,” groaned Robin tilting her head back in annoyance.
Steve turned to you in anticipation, eyes shining brightly in the fluorescent lights.
You groaned, “Fine, I’ll do it! On two conditions.”
Steve nodded rapidly, “Whatever you want.”
“I will pick my own clothes and if I tap out you immediately take me home,” you said watching as Steve nodded along.
“Definitely, you say you’re done and we’re done,” he agreed, giving you a hug.
“You’re saving my ass, truly. Thank you,” he continued heading back to the front as more customers arrived.
“Dingus finally has a date,” teased Robin, giving you an exaggerated wink.
You rolled your eyes at her words, missing the way Steve looked over his shoulder at you.
——————
Clothes rained down from your closet onto your bedroom floor. Even if you had initially been against the idea you still wanted to make things work for Steve.
He often played it off but you knew he still cared about the way his parents saw him. Most people believed his nonchalant demeanor when talking about his mother’s absence and his father’s indifference but you saw through him.
There was always a crack in his smile, the slight slump of his shoulders and the far away look his eyes would get. Maybe you had gotten too good at noticing his tells but you worried nonetheless.
That’s why you’d been digging through your closet trying to find an outfit suitable enough to meet Steve’s parents. Eventually you found something you deemed respectable and threw it on before moving on to doing your makeup.
You’d often keep your makeup simple but seeing as you knew the type of makeup Steve’s mother wore you decided to make it a little more noticeable.
The rollers in your hair were starting to give you a headache so you decided to remove them early knowing you could make up for the volume loss with some hairspray.
After a couple of minutes of teasing and brushing your hair you managed to look presentable, sealing your hard work with enough hairspray to fumigate a house.
“Just in time,” you whispered, taking a final look at yourself in the mirror when you heard the doorbell ring.
You descended the stairs to open the door being greeted by the sight of Steve in dress pants, a button up and a red sweater on top. It was different to his usual more casual style but he looked good nonetheless. He always looked good, it was unfair.
Steve’s eyes widened when he saw you open the door. He had seen you dressed up before but he was always surprised with how beautiful you looked each time.
He often forgot or looked past your beauty because you were his friend. When he met you there had been more pertinent things that took priority to flirting. Plus, he had still been hung up on Nancy.
After that, you had never once indicated that you would be open to the idea of dating him so he had chosen to keep the fact that he found you completely enamouring to himself.
“What? Is my outfit ugly?” you asked, eyes widening as you looked down at yourself.
“No. No, your outfit is perfect. You’re perfect,” he whispered, eyes still locked on you.
“Are you sure?” you asked anxiety clawing at the back of your mind.
“One-hundred percent,” he confirmed holding the door open so you could step outside.
The confidence behind his words served to satiate your nerves. He led you down the steps of your patio before opening the passenger door to let you in his car.
You settled into the familiar seat noticing that his car was cleaner than usual. Usually, it would have at least a wrapper or two from the kids after he gave them a ride somewhere.
He rounded the car settling into his own seat, “Buckle in.”
You did as he said the click echoing through the quiet car, “So, give me a quick rundown. How long have we been dating? How did we meet?”
“Ok, we have been dating for five months. It’s long enough to warrant an invite to family dinner but short enough that it’s not weird that I haven’t mentioned you before,” his eyes flickered over to the side of your face before focusing back on the road.
“We met at work. Robin introduced us and we just hit it off,” he continued nodding as the story began to unravel.
“I know your favorite food, color and song and vice versa so we have that covered,” you said, mostly thinking out loud.
“You know my favorite color?” he asked eyebrows furrowing before relaxing.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” you retorted using the side mirror to check your lipstick one final time.
The way you had so casually replied made his chest tighten in a familiar way. The way he knew meant that he was falling for you even more than he thought possible.
“Right,” he whispered, unable to trust his voice to not waver.
The rest of the ride to his house was quiet, a song you didn’t know the name of filling the car. He parked near the driveway of his house pausing before turning towards you.
“Thank you, again. I owe you a big favor for this,” his hand reached over to hold yours, the warmth from his palm leaking onto your own.
Your gaze softened, “Steve you don’t have to thank me. I know I was against the idea at first but trust me I would do it again if you needed me to.”
“Well, thanks anyway,” he smiled at you before exiting the car and opening your door.
You looped your arm through his pressing yourself to his side like a lovesick girlfriend would. He let a laugh out at your antics before pulling you closer. It scared him how natural, how perfect, you fit by his side.
He knocked on his parents door twice before the door swung open. His mom paused to scan you from head to toe in disbelief—eyes looking for a single hair out of place.
When she couldn’t find one she smiled, “Welcome. You must be Steven’s girlfriend.”
“I am. It’s nice to meet you Mrs.Harrington,” you reached out your hand to shake hers but she turned in place before leading you into her home.
Steve shared a look with you, mouthing a quick sorry before following after his mom. The door shut gently behind you cementing the reality of what you had gotten into.
“Steven, dinner is ready, go sit down,” ordered his mom.
Steve took your hand leading you to one end of the table and pulling out your chair for you. Mrs. Harrington placed a plate in front of you before sitting across from you.
“It looks delicious Mrs. Harrington,” you decided to break the awkward silence only to receive an indifferent glance from her.
Steve clenched his jaw, “Mom, she said it looks delicious.”
“Oh, yes, sorry. Thank you dear,” she replied, sipping her glass of wine.
His dad looked over at you, “What do you do for a living?”
“Oh, I work at Family Video with Steve and I attend the local community college,” you explained, swallowing the bit of food in your mouth.
“What are you studying?” He continued cutting his steak meticulously.
“I am currently doing interdisciplinary studies. I’m not sure what exactly I want to do yet so I’m covering all my bases,” your eyes didn’t leave his as he continued to stare you down.
“Dad, lighten up. It’s dinner not an interrogation,” joked Steve receiving dry looks from both of his parents.
“At least, she’s got into a college even if it’s a community college. You could learn a thing or two Steven,” his dad said, finally taking his first bite.
You watched as Steve’s back straightened from his comfortable position, his muscles tensing at the jab, “This again.”
“Yes, this again. I can’t believe we let you spend your time playing basketball instead of keeping your grades up. I mean for God’s sake you couldn’t land a spot in any community college,” Mr. Harrington’s words hit Steve hard.
You saw the way his jaw ticked, the way his hands balled up under the table and worst of all you saw how the tips of his ears turned red in embarrassment as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.
You took his hand under the table rubbing slow circles to soothe him. It seemed to work as he slowly relaxed under your touch.
“Oh, please, this girl isn’t better than him. Community college isn’t some great feat,” his mom sneered downing the rest of her wine.
“Mom, stop.”
You had never heard Steve’s voice so serious other than when he had confronted Billy at the Byer’s house.
“Steve,” you whispered, trying to signal you were okay.
“No,” he turned towards you, “She doesn’t get to belittle you, not you.”
“She’s an amazing person who puts her all into everything she does whether it’s work or college or anything else. You will not talk to her like that again or you won’t ever see me again,” Steve stood up from his chair dragging you towards the front door.
You stopped him from going any further, “Steve, it’s ok. I wasn’t really offended.”
“I’m tapping out,” he replied, jaw locked tightly.
“That’s my thing,” you tried to tease but it came out awkwardly.
“Yeah, well, I’m using it. Let’s go,” he grabbed your arm gentler this time before leading you back to his car.
The car remained off even after a couple of minutes of both of you sitting in silence. Steve’s gaze was locked on his house steam practically coming out of his ears.
“Hey, why did you get so riled up?” your head tilted in confusion curious to hear his reasoning.
“They can’t just do that,” he replied, eyes finally straying from the house to meet your own.
“Do what?” you questioned, eyebrows furrowed.
“Speak badly about you,” he replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Your parents speak badly about practically everyone in Hawkins. I kind of expected it,” Steve’s eyes softened as your words hit him.
“Yeah, but you’re not just anyone,” his words came out in a whisper almost as if he was afraid of breaking some invisible barrier.
“Look, everyone practically knows how I feel about you. I wasn’t going to let my parents speak that way to the girl I like,” he looked down at his lap afraid of your reaction.
“What?”
His words were the last thing you had expected from him. You would’ve never thought he saw you that way.
“I like you. I have for a long while now,” he repeated, raising his eyes to meet yours.
“What about Nancy?” you questioned still not believing he actually liked you.
“Trust me I realized we were better as friends a long time ago. I’m over her, completely. I’m one-hundred percent enamored with you,” he admitted, thankful the dark night helped cover his flushing face.
“Steve, I don’t know what to say,” your thoughts spiraled as emotions swirled in your chest, unable to think properly.
“I know you don’t like me back. I mean why would you? We don’t have to make this awkward, just, please reject me so I can move on,” he said, tone pleading as he finished his speech.
You were unsure what had spurred your sudden surge of confidence but you reached over the middle console and gripped his sweater pulling him closer before kissing him. Steve blue-screened for a moment before realizing he had the girl of his dreams actually kissing him.
He held one side of your face in his hand deepening the kiss before you pulled away. The two of you rested against the other silence blanketing you once again.
“So, I take that to mean you like me back?” Steve broke the silence, unable to stay quiet for long.
“Yes, that means I like you back,” you confirmed with a laugh sitting back down in your seat properly.
“Then, will you do me the honor of letting me take you out on a real date? One that preferably doesn’t involve my parents?”
“I’d be happy to.”
With one final shared smile he drove you back home already planning hundreds of dates in his mind. He was planning on keeping you happy for the rest of his life. Learning from his past to never mess up his chance with you.
CONTAINS ➤ 1k+ words. fem!reader. established relationship. ☁︎ featuring: paul lahote & wolfpack co.
┆ ⤿ 💌 ⌗ NOTE ➤ they can’t spend ten minutes together without aggravating each other.
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✧˖° reblogs and replies are highly appreciated ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
─── ❅ You found yourself once again in Emily’s house baking for the pack. This time making gingerbread sheets for a gingerbread house making competition with the pack.
Sam had decided to go easy on patrol in lieu of the victory against the Voltori. Even if the fight hadn’t ended in bloodshed he viewed it as a win as long as they stayed away from Quileute land.
The boys had all been excited but Paul was just happy he could spend more time with you, especially with the holidays around the corner. He wanted to make your first Christmas together magical in any way he could.
That’s why he had been the one to suggest decorating gingerbread houses saying it was only right to divulge in a little Christmas tradition.
You obliged happily since your family never celebrated Christmas. It was just another normal night at home. There were no gifts, no decorations and no Christmas cheer.
“Hey Em, can you take these trays?” you took out three fresh pans from the oven handing them over to Emily.
“Are these the last three?” she asked cutting the cooled cookie sheets into shapes with the outline you had created.
“Yes, finally,” you groaned, stretching your sore arms.
You joined her side helping her finish up the cutouts before the pack arrived. Sam had taken them for one final patrol together hoping their scents would be enough to keep any predators away while they enjoyed Christmas.
The icing you had prepared was cooling in bags in the fridge already tinted with different colors.
“Wait, the candy!” you rose from your seat before pulling out small bowls from the cabinets.
You poured a little of each candy into the bowls separating them by sections at the table. If you didn’t make multiple, the whole pack would fight over keeping the candy on their sides and it would be a mess.
It was simpler for you and Emily if you made multiple. The bowls were filled with gumdrops, sprinkles, jelly beans, mini M&M’s and tiny candy canes.
The front door opened with a groan, the excited yells of the pack filling the once peaceful room. Emily shared a look with you quickly placing the individual house cutouts in front of each pack member.
“Alright, boys! We will be taking this very seriously. Each of you has been provided with a set of cutouts, a piping bag with icing and bowls of candy for decor. Emily and I will be judging very strictly. Having said that, begin!” you announced watching as the boys began to fight over supplies seconds into the competition.
Seth got five minutes into building his house before it fell apart, his scarce use of the icing biting him in the ass. Jared’s house was a sticky mess of icing, the opposite of Seth’s strategy.
Embry kept removing Quil’s gumdrops whenever he would look away to get a new candy. Jacob and Leah wrestled over the jellybeans both wanting to be the only ones to use them.
Sam kept one arm around his house guarding it from any damage the others might try to do to it. Paul kept getting distracted by you, his focus wavering every time you laughed.
“Five minutes left!” you announced laughing harder as they all began to throw candy at their houses.
Emily joined your side watching in glee as everybody scrambled to finish their houses. The kitchen timer Emily had used to time the others rang startling everyone from their focused building.
“Line them up boys and girl!” yelled Emily watching them line up their mostly finished houses in a row.
You and Emily took out notepads before bending down to inspect Seth’s house.
“Interesting,” you murmured, scribbling a score on your notepad.
Emily showed you hers causing you to nod in agreement before moving on to Jared’s.
His roof had begun to slide down, the ungodly amount of icing used keeping it from hardening into place.
You scribbled a score down showing it to Emily before continuing down the line. Emily and you made your way down the entire row comparing notes as you went before settling on a winner.
“Drumroll please!” Seth and Embry followed your command, tapping their hands against the wall.
“The winner is Embry!” As soon as the words left your mouth the room exploded into protests.
“That’s not fair.” Paul.
“He cheated!” Quil.
“His house isn’t even properly decorated.” Leah.
“Hey! Don’t hate me cause I’m better than all of you,” yelled Embry before dashing outside to avoid the pack members now chasing him.
You laughed as he was tackled by Jared, the both of them shifting half ways through their fight. The others joined them shifting in the air before dogpiling on top of Embry.
A shocked yelp left you as Paul wrapped his arms around you from behind.
“Admit it. Mine was better but you didn’t want them accusing you of being biased,” he whispered, kissing your cheek.
You turned around to face him, his arms still caging you against him, “Then I’d be lying.”
His eyes widened before he let out a shocked laugh, “Mine was the best.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” his hands found themselves at your sides tickling endlessly.
“Stop! Please! I’m sorry,” you pleaded trying to escape his grip.
“Admit mine was the best!” he continued his ministrations causing your eyes to tear up from the non stop laughter.
“I won’t! My morality as a judge will not be broken!” you finally managed to free yourself running outside to get away from him.
You screamed as he picked you up and placed you over his shoulder. He spun around in place causing you to hit his back in a panic scared he’d drop you.
“You’re going to drop me!”
He placed you back on your two feet, kissing you softly before pulling back, “Never.”
He gripped you tightly and you believed him. You knew he’d never drop you even if it meant he hurt himself.
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.
