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shiny-jr · 11 months

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outlander

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia.

Summary: In every land you travel to, there's a god with elemental powers. But why is it that in every nation you arrive to, the gods attempt to make you stay?

Note: Why has no one done a genshin x twst thing? This is more of a concept idea than anything else. I might do a series with it, or not, or just random posts. Feel free to ask about it or request stuff for it.

This must be a dream, either that or a never-ending nightmare.

Waking up alone on a sandy beach, as if washed ashore, was disorientating. There was nothing else on the shore save for shells and the occasional crab, no debris indicating a wreck and no scattered belongings. All you had on you were the clothes on your back, which were a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, your pajamas.

In the center of your palms, was a marking you had never seen before, like a freshly painted tattoo in the shape of a tiny key. As curious as the strange new markings were and you wondered how they even got there, there was a larger question looming:

How did you get here?

GRIM

There was a cat on the beach. At least, it looked like a cat. A talking feline, with gray fur and the most impossible feature of blue fire lightly simmering in his ears.

It spoke, just like a human, with a grating high-pitched voice. It was a devilish little beast, with little fangs sharper than his comebacks that he supposed were funny.

The feline pridefully announced his name: Grim.

And when you told Grim your story of how you woke up by the water's edge with no recollection of how you got here and little to your name, the creature didn't appear to care. However, when he spoke of elements being used by people and names of nations and cruel living gods you never once heard of, only then was he very vaguely intrigued. Perhaps it was amusement, as he laughed and called you stupid for not even knowing of The Seven.

That's when you heard a growl, not from behind his fangs but from his stomach. If you looked at him from the right angle, he looked quite scrawny. The poor thing was hungry, you realized.

All it took was an offering of cans of tuna found in an empty cabin nearby, and you had him in your grasp. Following you around was only temporary, he insisted, he'd go along so long as there was food. While a talking cat was not the most conventional of guides, it was better than nothing, especially since he knew basic knowledge of each nation and where the nearest sign of civilization was located.

HEARTSLABYUL

Through the winding dark woods where mysterious creatures lurked in hollow trees and dead end paths, were meadows of flowers and peaceful grooves. However, don't let the tranquillity of nature fool you. In the distance were mountains– not actually mountains, but volcanoes and hot sprints along this land's border.

It's been said that the very millions of roses and other greenery in this land, was formed when ash rained down on dry barren earth for nearly a month. Ash from those very dormant volcanoes that were the backdrop to this perfect scenery, which came in huge black clouds thousands of years ago and blanketed the earth.

A god, an archon, the deity of law that rained hell on earth over thousands of years ago.

Long ago this land was a country of criminals ruled by a god of chaos that reveled in havoc and disorder. Among the mayhem, was a small deity of fire with mighty powers and a vision for a future he was determined to see. Riddle, is what the deity was called.

Riddle gained a number of followers to listen to his words, and he created order. A small feat compared to the many wicked still running about in a lawless land ruled by a god that valued anarchy. So, using newfound strength, the deity of fire drew forth molten lava from the mouths of the northern volcanos, burning all those in its path while the deadly plumes of smoke and ash suffocated those that remained. Atop the remains of the destroyed towns and cities, he built a new nation of order for his loyal followers.

Today, it is a thriving nation filled with flowers and greenery. However, there is one issue. The god of pyro, Riddle, is a tyrant. Every law is expected to be followed without question and without fail, beheadings have become nearly a daily occurrence with the criminals often being charged with mistakingly picking flowers on Wednesdays, drinking the wrong sort of tea post-meals, or playing croquet after five pm.

You were fortunate to be spared after your audience with the god of law, for breaking the rule: one must never bring a cat to a formal affair. Before he could burn you were you stood, you interjected, answering that your companion was no cat, so you had broken no rule.

Well, he promptly apologized for the misunderstanding and in turn, offered to make up for it by inviting you to a tea party. It would be best to except his invitation, afterall, he was the same deity that buried nearly an entire country in lava and ash, then built his kingdom atop their remains. He was a tyrant that beheaded and burned people on the daily. It was wise not to get on his bad side. Besides, he appears to have taken a fancy for you. Riddle implores that you tell him more of your world while you ignore the whispers of rebellion.

There is no leaving Heartslabyul, not without the explicit permission from the god of law. The borders with their volcanoes burn any would-be invaders, allowing passage only to merchants and travelers who have received the pyro deity's blessing. Why would Riddle ever give you his blessing to see you go?

SAVANACLAW

Across the volcanoes and hot springs of the borders, the mountains turn green with dense jungles. Across the river lies the savanna where the world's most wondrous creatures run free. Times have been turbulent, the shaking ground was evidence of troubles with this nation's divine beings, or rather, now single divine being.

Earthquakes have always been a sign of something occurring either for a purpose or unintentionally by someone else. The harsher the quake, the greater the importance of the event. And not too long ago, a ginormous tremor shook the entire globe. Something of major importance had happened.

A god, an archon, the deity of intellect was the new sovereign after tragedy befell his elder brother.

In the past the land was under the protection of the god of strength, a mighty god worshipped by his people. This god had a young heir who was also beloved by the people. However, most forgot or completely disliked the younger brother of the god of strength, a deity of ground, Leona, who had a burning hated for his brother.

Leona amassed followers of his own in secret. It came as no surprise that the common and the wealthy adored the exalted god of strength. However, the poor detested him, because he offered no help to them, no matter how much they prayed and offered what little they had to his alter. Instead, their prayers for mercy and for a change in luck, were answered by the deity of ground. The change of luck came from the death of the former god and his son, paving the way for a new sovereign.

Today, there is uncertainty in the street. Many of the former worshippers of the god of strength believe in one thing. The god of geo, Leona, is unfit to rule. The poor and mistreated have emerged from hiding places in the shadows, filled with newfound confidence for their was finally a god that answered their prayers. However, there remains a growing tension between both factions. Followers of the new god sing his praises, while followers who mourn for his brother believe that everything is falling into disarray.

You were promptly introduced to the god of intellect by his followers that wished to spread the good word. There was something wrong, you and your companion both agreed. How could a powerful god of strength and his young heir just perish without warning? Something was amiss.

This was just a new follower, at least in his eyes. So he brushed you off, allowing you to partake in the best food and drink only his followers had the privilege of receiving. Testing your luck, you decided you would ask him if he knew of a way home. For now you filled him in, explaining your origins and recent adventures. For such a conniving and arrogant leader, he was surprisingly lax. It even appeared as if he wasn't even listening to your words, just dozing off on some pillows. Your words were at least more interesting to him than the rumors of possible unrest.

Perhaps he does know a way for you to return home, but he doesn't want to tell you. It's as simple as that. He likes the new follower, you. Besides, you're not going. There is always the option of traveling further, but why do so when the geo deity has what you need? Leona greatly loathes betrayal from his own worshippers, so you wouldn't leave Savanaclaw to see another god, would you?

OCTAVINELLE

In the seas dwell creatures of unimaginable horrors living deep within the watery depths, across the ocean over turbulent waves there are islands of paradise. The chain of islands composed warm southern beaches and cold northern snowlands. This may be paradise, but a toll must be paid to even get near the islands.

A tax is applied to all arriving merchants wishing to trade and tourists wishing to step foot on the island. It doesn't make much sense, until you see their towns and cities bursting with trade. Business was booming, apparently. The water is clear and pristine, you could see the vibrant coral reefs and schools of fish swimming below.

A god, an archon, the deity of contracts once came from these very waters when there was no land.

Thousands of years ago there was nothing but ocean out this far away from the mainland. That is, until a deity of water appeared from the depths. He promised a new nation to traveling merchants, so long as they worshipped him. The deity introduced himself as Azul.

Azul had grown bored of the dull happenings under the sea, for he had achieved most things beneath the waves. The ocean could not satisfy his endless greed. He had his sights set on higher elevation, with the lofty goal of being just as powerful on land as he was in the ocean. He moved waves, creating tsunamis outward but revealing islands once hidden by water. The merchants took to land and fulfilled their end of the deal, worshipping him while creating a prosperous nation of deals.

In present day, hardly anyplace can compare to the thriving hub the nation has become. However, loyal followers have begun to see his greed. The god of hydro, Azul, is a charlatan. The ocean in all its vastness was not enough to satisfy his desires, it was why he took to land. For the promise of fulfilling prayers, something always must be given in turn or the worshippers must risk going on a quest. But, it is not always as it seems. One way or another, a prayer asking for something will end in the worshipper becoming in debt to him.

In exchange for an answer to the continued question of how to return home, you have nothing to offer for payment except for ideas. Home was modern, this world was not yet on par with the technology you knew. So you offer ideas of inventions, a device to capture an image in time, a mechanism like a box with wheels, a tool to contact someone miles away.

He believes you're quite bright, you think it false flattery to deceive you but you would be wrong. Your ideas are truly brilliant, and will no doubt earn him more millions and influence in other nations on the mainland! Best to take the compliment with a smile, or else this swindler may find a way to trap you in debt. Azul insists you tell him more of your home and your lucrative ideas. Here, a contract, where he shall sell your ideas as goods and you shall reap the rewards! Whatever hearsay you've heard painting him in a bad light, is defamation! Don't fall for it so easily.

Sailing away from Octavinelle would just be a fool's quest. Unless you can escape on a boat that can weather the harshest of sea storms, there is no stepping foot off the island without the risk of drowning. Don't you have more profitable ideas to share with the hydro deity? If not, just listening to your voice would make Azul content than all the gold in the world could.

SCARABIA

Rolling sand dunes stretch as far as the eye could see, and rocky canyons border a savanna. Sandstorms fill the skies like a dark cloud, covering the dry hot land in a new layer of sand once again. Struggle through the scorching days and blistering cold nights, and there will be an oasis in the center between large flowing rivers.

Life follows the flowing waters, and an enormous oasis is planted in the center of the desert. For miles and miles along the banks, are blooming cities and towns. A great contrast to the desert outside, these settlements are overflowing with water, with the greenest gardens and greatest crops.

A god, an archon, the deity of commerce that gave life to a once barren land.

Thousands of years ago, a terrible famine struck the land. All remaining oasis had shriveled up, leading to starvation. A kind-hearted deity of earth took pity on the people. So he decided to extend a helping hand. People would call the deity Kalim.

Kalim used his abilities to create a lush environment, a vast and incredibly rich oasis out of sand in the middle of the desert. When he walked, grass and flowers sprouted from the sand. In days, he managed to create a garden of tremendous size and design, where his new followers could live in peace and luxury by the rivers. Towns and cities were developed, giving way to a grand nation where he resided in comfort and extravagance, surrounded by people that adored him.

Now there is a grand metropolis where there is just as much gold in the markets as there are flowers. The god of dendro, Kalim, is naive. For thousands of years he has been sheltered and treasured by his people. He is oblivious and clumsy, but at the same time he is not foolish. He knows of the people that have attempted to use his abilities for sinister purposes. Although, no one could guess a conniving being plotting against him, resides in his very own palace.

Exciting adventures and thrilling tales, the god of commerce loves to hear your stories of the outside world! First time foreigners are welcomed with open arms, but you are treated as a rare guest with your unique origin. This might just be the most peaceful land you had ever traveled to.

Come, partake in the celebrations! It's easy to forget that such a laidback and cheerful personality belongs to that of a deity that gave life to this region of the desert. Dance, chat, he wishes to do it all with you! The brightness of the fireworks and lively atmosphere is nearly enough to drown out the presence in the shadows you see from the corner of your eyes. A figure with a piercing gaze, watching the jolly divine being with envy in their eyes. With a power as tempting as his, there would be those wishing to snatch it. Kalim distracts you, offering more food and drink with a smile sweeter than any flower.

Why would anyone ever wish to leave this garden that was Scarabia? The outside, the desert and canyons, were harsh and unforgiving. The god of commerce did not wish to see you risk traveling and getting hurt. The dendro deity invites you to stay in the city! Surely you could be happy here with Kalim, right?

POMEFIORE

On elevated lands, between mountains and hills, were endless forests in which travelers often vanished in or were discovered frozen. A winter wonderland, although this wasn't so delightful. It was beautiful, but a deadly kind of beautiful, where you risked being chased by mysterious beasts or becoming lost in blizzards.

The snow may be pure, it may look picturesque upon frozen lakes and lines of white trees, but looks are deceiving. This was once a serene land with a temperate climate, but it has only gotten colder and colder in more recent months until there was not a single spot of green to be seen.

A god, an archon, the deity of curses who was so bitter like the cold that he caused snow to fall all year round.

Stories have told that the land was once warm in springs and summers, only growing cold whenever the divine being was cross. They were frighteningly beautiful and terrifyingly powerful, regal as royalty but at times wrathful. Vil, is what the deity was referred to.

Vil became envious of an emerging figure, so he invoked powerful blizzards and storms. In recent generations, there have been a growing number of his people breaking off into a separate faction that worshipped a younger compassionate god of healing. Enraged by the betrayal of some followers and resentful with biting jealously, many knew that it was only a matter of time before he would snap. This frightening divine being would not accept being dethroned, he would not allow himself to be demoted in the people's hearts.

Civilization continued to thrive, even despite the never-ending snow. And yet, people cannot help but worry what may happen if the cold doesn't let up by spring. The god of cryo, Vil, was pretentious. Anyone who openly voices their distaste for him or a preference for the god of healing, can expect to be encased in ice and used as a display. No one dares to even utter the name of his rival, for fear of incurring his wrath.

Misfortune brought you before the god of curses' throne. Mistakingly his followers had believed you to be worshippers of the god of healing, which you insisted not to know of. You had simply been lost. Maybe it was your gawking at his ethereal appearance, or the compliment you murmured under your breath, but you were not frozen a punishment.

He decided to interrogate you himself, and through his stern questioning you found yourself a nervous mess as you answered honestly but blabbered far too much. Maybe this deity was amused, much like a king would find humor in a pathetic little jester. The divinity that froze nonbelievers into statues for his palace, found you quite endearing. Vil even once smiled at you when you spoke of inconsequential things, warming his heart to which the clouds carrying snow broke apart if for a moment, causing his followers to go into a frenzy fueled by hope.

When leaving Pomefiore is so much as even mentioned, all exits will be frozen shut by the god of curses. Why even venture outside the palace, when you have earned the favor of the cryo deity? Perhaps the land is warmer, but the neighboring nation is dangerous and he forbids the journey. Why would anyone leave after finally melting Vil's icy cold heart?

IGNIHYDE

A forest of dead trees serves as an ominous welcome, or perhaps it was an omen warning incoming travelers. Slopes gave way to valleys, and along the coasts was a heavy mist that painted the vision gray. Homes and buildings, magnificent temples and crumbling feats of architecture, appeared to be floating in white clouds, but in reality they were situated on cliffsides thick with fog.

In the center of the dying forest, there are ruins of a grand temple once belonging to a god that met a tragic end. However, its remnants are closely guarded by mysterious creatures of air that cannot be touched. Legends say the temple was once a place of worship for a fledgling god related to the main god the nation worships today.

A god, an archon, the deity of innovation that has never once shown his face to the public.

Thousands of years ago, a pair of divine beings appeared. They went largely unnoticed for many years, until their brilliant inventions brought awe to those around them, attracting worshippers and diminishing the power of other local gods. The one remaining brother from this pair, is a deity known as Idia.

Idia created wondrous inventions, unintentionally forming a nation of inventors in the process. Withdrawn, dark, and silent, he is quite the unconventional god and yet he begrudgingly rules nonetheless. As reserved as he may be, he is feared among divinity. All lesser gods aiming for his spot are quickly wiped out by his inventions, without him so much as lifting a finger and using his own abilities. They're reduced to mere memories, as nothing is left of them. In times of old, it was once believed that he was a harbinger of death.

On decent days, the sun may shine on the coast, but most days there are heavy clouds and fog. The god of anemo, Idia, is an enigma. Most think him a ghost, for never appearing and for his abilities. The highest families, the most brilliant inventors, even other divine beings may request an audience, but he will never show. No one has ever seen him, all that's known is he is a figure shrouded in black robes like a grim reaper. There are others who believe there are double, because two figures have been spotted once.

You become the first to see his face purely by accident. It seemed he was just as startled of you, as you were of him. Thankfully, you were not going to be blown off the face of the planet by hurricane-level winds. No other god would help, in fact, they wished to keep you here. So you had to turn to him for assistance in finding a way home.

It was only by promising that he could pet Grim, a deal to which the feline disagreed to, did the god reluctantly hear you out. After your explanation, he scoffed as if looking at a simple equation like 2 + 2. Of course he knew the answer, but he wouldn't give out the assistance you needed. The deal was to hear you out, not help you out. He'd become quite bold in the private conversation, a sharp contrast to his previous anxious demeanor. There was no arguing against he who could slaughter gods with a snap of his fingers. Although you aren't as intolerable as other mortals, this he admits.

Departing from Ignihyde is highly unlikely, given how dense the fog is. You cannot even see the ground you're walking on. While, yes, the anemo deity hasn't assisted you, he will, eventually, probably, maybe... You're the first mortal Idia has ever asked to stay, so why would you turn your back to him?

DIASOMNIA

A wall of impenetrable thorns stands in the way, magically opening and creating a clear-cut path through dense forbidding forests lively with critters. The thorn walls close, effectively trapping you. There was something different. It was unlike all the previous nations, the very air itself felt off. With every step deeper into these whimsical woods, it felt as if you were not alone.

Once upon a time, there was a dragon. No one knows how long the dragon has been alive, only that even the oldest tales say he was already ancient way back when. Valleys were shaped by his claws, the rivers from his tail, rare ore came from his fallen scales buried in the earth, the tallest mountains were but small hills to him.

A god, an archon, the deity of dreams is by far the most powerful and most ancient of all divinity in the world.

Peace was his personal preference, as he enjoyed new company which he never truly received due to his fearsome reputation. However, when other divinity sought out his destruction and his home, the deity of electricity raged. Destruction was left in his wake across the entire globe, and everyone came to know the name Malleus.

Malleus commanded thorns to be raised like walls protecting his home, and constant violent storms to ward off anyone threatening to cause trouble. For hundreds of years, no foreigner was allowed to step foot within the nation's boundaries. Anyone that tried would quickly be reduced to ash, and just a number added to the untold amount he's slayed in order to protect himself and his territory. Kind he may be to his own, but to foes he is merciless. With his black horns and piercing eyes, some refer to him as a devil incarnate.

A land unseen by outlanders, it's peaceful and magical in it's beauty. However, it seems that while your presence may be surprising, it is not a shock. You're taken by knights in gray and black, escorted away. The god of electro, Malleus, has invited you to his castle. There is astonishment and disbelief in people's eyes, a foreigner alive and well. Most like you would have been reduced to particles before they could even step foot past the thorns.

Much to your horror, or relief, once you're brought to the god of dreams, he seems delighted to have you here. It seems your presence was expected, as all he said was, "So you've finally come to see me, hm? I was beginning to grow concerned that perhaps I would have been left out of your list of destinations."

This was the last option, the only one you could turn to in finding a way home. Surely, the most ancient and powerful deity would hold the answer and assist you, since he had been so kind as to allow you inside his nation. Although as welcoming as he may be, you must remember that despite his fang-toothed smile and the twinkle in his eyes, this man– no, god, was archaic and all-powerful. He must have killed more people than you will ever know, wiped out whole armies and flattened entire nations. Malleus tilts his head at you, requesting that you recount your tale, with every minute detail.

This will be the end, there will be no escaping Diasomnia. Of course, you shall not know until later. For now, the god of dreams delights in your stories. You were the first guest he's had in thousands of years, and one of the few who did not wish to slay the legendary dragon that was the electro deity. Malleus knows what you desire, he has seen it in your dreams. However, he will not be kind and grant you what you sought. If he did, then what he desired would then vanish: you.

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twistedmir · 4 months

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KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE !

⇀ summary : your partner talks too much, and what better way to make them shut up by kissing them?. (Malleus, Ace, Riddle, Vil.)

⇀ write's note : i have a favorite and its showing.

MALLEUS DRACONIA !

This man, it has already been two hours since he started talking about gargoyles. On any other day, you wouldn't have minded his rambling. But today you were particularly exhausted from babysitting the ADeuce duo, so you could only bear so much.

“ they were originally created as a means of disposing of water, but with time..—” there he goes again, this cute little dragon fae ranting about some random fact about gargoyles. Your head was starting to hurt, you just wanted to cuddle him and let this awful day pass. Despite the growing headache, you didn't have the heart to cut him off.

However, a bulb light up in your head.

You grabbed the fae from his necktie earning a surprise noise from him. You brought him down to your level and kissed his lips. It was a light peck, but you lingered a little bit too long. “ can we go inside now? I want to cuddle? ” Malleus was frozen in place, his lips could still feel yours. He didn't know what to do so he simply nodded, letting you guide him toward the house, your hand in his. Humans were rather bold.

ACE TRAPPOLA !

It was during lunch, your boyfriend's neck was decorated with his housewarden's magic. Ace was complaining—yet again— about how ridiculous the rules are. (something about not eating leftovers that had a green sticker on top of the containers, he swears he didn't know it was someone's else.) His lips were pouting, arms crossed over his chest he looked so cute. Until he opened his mouth to complain this time about Deuce. You sighed, this man always finds something to complain about.

And there he goes again, talking his head off about sevens knows what. This man would not for the sake of it be quiet. You wished to eat in peace, maybe talk with your boyfriend. But he kept going on and on, it was starting to get on your nerve. You love the guy, but he talks too much. Finally, as if the sevens heard your pleas, Ace quieted down. A sigh of relief left you. At last, you could eat—

“ and then Deuce just—” And there we go again. A bulb light up, it'll be funny to see him match with the collar on his neck. Moving closer to Ace, the boy not noticing your approaching figure still going on about how much of an idiot the blueberry boy is (his words.) your hands cupped his cheeks, ceasing his chatter. You lightly pecked the soft lips, pulling away after a short time. The boy was stuck speechless, his mouth closing and opening like a fish, face as red as the Heartslabyul's warden. A chuckle slipped past you, how cute.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS !

In your defense, Ace payed you. He knew how soft the warden goes on you whenever a rule is broken by you. Which is why, the first year though it was better for you to paint the flowers in his place. Riddle was unaware it was Ace's turn—for the first time— so, imagine his surprise when he saw how wrongly you painted the roses. It wasn't such a deal, but it bothered him how dangerously close you were to falling from the ladder. Riddle walked up to you, keen on lecturing you all about safety. Until you wondered if his face can match his hair.

“ How many time have I told you to be careful? You know this ladder is not in the best shape, I wouldn't want you to match it's state. ” The housewarden was scolding you for being careless. While your eyes were focused on his, your mind was wandering somewhere else. Thinking back on Ace's words, you were curious just how far was Riddle lenient on you. A smirk formed in your face.

The Housewarden wasn't aware of the Adeuce level of mischief stirring up in your mind. Closing the distance between you, relishing in the small stutters in his words, you placed your lips on his owns.

It was quiet. Maybe he did let you go with anything—

“ OFF WITH YOUR HEA—”. nevermind.

VIL SCHOENHEIT !

Vil was lecturing some first year about the proper use of skin care. The poor first years were so frightened by his harsh scold and cold voice that when they saw you they pleaded you with their eyes to help them escape from this hell. You took pity on them, Vil, even after his overbolt, still couldn't get rid of some of his habits. Mainly his harsh scolds, but he made progress. The first years looks frightened yet still listen to him. Before, some even cried while others were crushed by his words. So you saw this as a progress of some kind.

Walking up to them, you taped the beauty on his shoulder, making him cease his talk and turn to look at you. He quirked an eyebrow at you, his hands unconsciously finding yours. He was waiting for you to speak, you always taped him when you wanted to talk.

Your heart swell at his small yet meaningful gesture. Despite his busy schedule, he always found time for you. Even when he was scolding his juniors, you clearly saw how his eyes soften at the sight of you. (you made a mental note to pamper him later today in his room).

You signalled him to lean down, which he did despite the obvious confusion. Hands finding their place on his cheeks, cradling Vil's face. You laid your lips on top of his, eyes widening at you actions. The first years took this as a sign and quickly left.

After the initial shock, Vil grumpily returned your kiss. His clean hands pinching your cheeks. “ Honestly, just what am I going to do with you... ”. Even though he was complaining, you didn't miss the pinkish colour at the tip of his ears.

©— twistedmir. 2024 / DO NOT REPOST OR PLAGIARISE MY CONTENT IN ANY WAY.

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mentallyadinonugget · 5 months

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“but james potter was a bully””he bullied snape!!!” ok? someone had to do it.

🙄

~Here’s a list of good and shitty things Snape did canonically:

Bad:

•Snape was a blood supremacist who called lily a slur.

•invented a curse for enemies (marauders)

I don’t think a good person would make up a curse which mutilates someone terribly. That too, during his time in Hogwarts.

•oh yeah later on he became a death eater 😋 (the main goal of the death eaters wasto eliminate all muggle-borns in the wizarding world and establish voldemort as its ruler)(magical nazis basically).

Plus when voldy was going to kill lily, Snape was like yk what you can kill the husband and the INFANT just don’t hurt my lily flower teehee like okay james bullied him so him not caring about james made sense but harry was a child bro

•BULLIED CHILDREN DURING HIS TIME AS A PROFESSOR????? he was literally neville’s bogart ffs and not because “some teachers are just scary okay Neville was afraid of almost everything!!!” but because Snape bullied neville on a daily basis plus threatened to kill his pet after a failed potion thingy. plus he made fun hermione’s physical appearance (when draco made her teeth all big and Snape was like hah it’s the same there’s no difference) and he bullied for BEING GOOD AT ACADEMICS LIKE 😭😭😭???? He bullied almost everyone in Hogwarts I just know it.

•sectumsempra’d George’s year off.

•tried to out Remus Lupin as a werewolf for NO reason other than his childish misdemeanour.

Good:

•called Sirius and Remus an old married couple.

•saves Katie bell from a cursed necklace

•saves draco malfoy from a terrible curse that could’ve killed him by the counter charm “vulnera saneteur”

can someone guess which curse Snape saved draco from??? You’re right! It was sectumsempra!

•switched sides or smth

~Here’s a list of good and shitty things james did canonically:

Bad:

•called Snape snivellus (was funny ngl)

•bully snape

Good:

•turned into an illegal animagus at the age of 15 so his werewolf friend (Remus) has company during his transformations.

•took sirius black in after he ran away from an abusive hoursehold.

•SAVED FUCKING SNAPE FROM REMUS IN HIS WEREWOLF FORM AFTER SIRIUS SENT HIM THERE.

JAMES SAVED SNAPE.

•literally died trying to stall Voldemort so Lily and Harry have some time to escape or just live in general.

So my point is canon james was a bit of an asshole but he still did way more good deeds than Snape even though Snape was in all the seven books like one of the good things he did was literally the consequences of his own actions (healing draco).

All of this is canon btw. NONE of it is fanon.

sincerely keep my wife’s name out of your fucking mouth he did what should have been done.

cutie

#james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #the marauders #lily evans #severus snape #should’ve pushed Snape in a lake #regulus black #jegulus #wolfstar #jily #the marauders era #slytherin #gryffindor #hogwarts #snape was a bigger bully than James and yall aren’t ready for the conversation #james potter you will always be famous

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fourmoony · 10 months

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Hey! Requesting a Remus fluff where he spots reader in the library and is completely infatuated by her. James and Sirius persuades him to go up to her and eventually builds up the courage :3

hi lovely, thank you so much for requesting! hope you enjoy :) this one realllly got away from me, but I love it sm!!! he's baby your honour...

2.3k remus x fem!reader fluff language

masterlist

Sirius has his feet kicked up on the desk, his chair balancing on its hind legs and if Remus wasn't so distracted he'd probably tell him off, make up some lie about a kid he knew when he went to primary that fell and smashed his head open, caused a scene, traumatised a teacher and a classroom full of seven year olds, the paramedics ended up coming in to do a talk on classroom safety... something like that. Sirius probably wouldn't listen anyway, but at least he'd know he tried.

But he's distracted.

For once, it's not because of James' heavy handed typing as he abuses his poor laptop's keyboard, writing and erasing, writing and erasing. And it's also not because of the obnoxious groan Sirius lets out every few minutes just to make sure Remus and James know he's still there, waiting for them to be done so they can wrap up another week of uni with a few pints at the local pub.

No, today he's fully distracted by something else.

You.

It's not fair, actually. He thinks your beauty is actually hurting him, doing something funny to his heart. Can a person's beauty physically cause heart failure? Chest pains? Maybe an anxiety attack over the existential crisis he's facing knowing he'll never be able to have you? Remus doesn't know, but he thinks James would - he's the one doing his PhD, after all. Not that Remus would ever admit to finding you so breathtakingly beautiful it's causing physical pain. No, Sirius and James would never let him live that down.

So instead, he pretends to read his textbook on astro-physics, everything he's supposed to be revising going straight over his head, while stealing glances at you two tables over. You're in your own world, furiously typing into your laptop, stopping every now and then to take a sip of the comically large coffee beside you. It's midterm season, your large coffee is warranted in Remus' humble opinion. Not that you're even aware he's in solidarity of it. James would probably have some boring medical fact about coffee stunting growth and hormones or some load of bollocks similar, but he doesn't care.

Every now and then, you'll pout at your laptop screen, tilting your head to the side like whatever is on your screen has personally offended you. It makes Remus' heart slam against his rib cage in a totally annoying, embarrassing way he wishes he could make soft. He's not a creep. Really, he's not. He knows you. Somewhat. You've met a couple times when you've been chatting to Marlene - who shares a Comms class with you - either in the library or at the pub on the occasional Friday you make an appearance with your friends. It's not like he's having these weird feelings about a stranger. Well. A complete stranger. But there's just something so startling about how kissable your lips are, so soft looking and pink, and adorable in the way your head tilts like that of a confused puppy.

Your attention leaves the screen in front of you in an instant as if you can feel Remus' pining from ten feet away, eyes scanning your surroundings, and when your eyes meet his, Remus chokes on thin air. Thin fucking air. He's so shocked you've caught him, so shocked you're actually a real person he can make eye contact with and not a figment of his imagination, that he chokes, eyes widening, and looks back down to the text book in front of him. He resigns to the awful feeling of humiliation creeping up his neck, accepts the fate of his crimson red cheeks.

"Subtle." Sirius comments, a sickening smirk that Remus just knows means he's been caught graces the former Black Heir's lips and he'd rather like to kick the two back legs out from under best friend's chair now, thanks.

Even though he knows he's been caught, Remus schools his features, because he's actually very capable of that when it comes to his friends, and returns to his book, flipping the page with what he hopes is nonchalance and shrugs, "Dunno what you're on about."

Sirius scoffs obnoxiously, just like Remus knew he would, and returns his chair back to four legs with haste, arms planted on the table in front of him and a look on his face that reads 'I hate to break it to you, but you're the most obvious bloke on the planet'. "Mate, just go over and put us all out of our misery. It's painful."

"It is, mate." James mumbles agreeably, still very much engrossed in the battering of his keyboard. It's a wonder he hasn't broken the thing, Remus thinks.

Remus rolls his eyes. If only it were that simple. How could anything be that simple when you're so infuriatingly beautiful Remus doesn't think he could get two words in to a conversation with you without making a royal twat of himself.

"You make it sound so simple, Pads, truly." Remus drawls sarcastically, eyes still downcast on the book in front of him.

He hasn't read and actually processed a single sentence since he caught sight of you on arrival. He's well and truly fucked.

Sirius scrubs his hands up and down his face like Remus' hesitance is physically paining him, "C'mon, Moony. They didn't call you the Casanova of Gryffindor House for nothing, mate."

It's Remus' turn to scoff, now. He was hardly a Casanova. Just a nice bloke who girls happened to be attracted to. But that was a private boarding school where girls had no access to the outside world apart from the odd weekend at the school's nearest village. You live in a world with people disposable at your fingertips. Coffee shop baristas, classmates, the people on the commute to your classes, there's an endless opportunity for you to meet someone of interest. And how is Remus supposed to compete with that?

"Not happening. I'll suffer in silence, thanks." Remus tells Sirius, a tight lipped smile about his face that he hopes Sirius will read as the end of the conversation.

Clearly, Sirius is no better at social cues now than when Remus first met him, because his friend rolls his eyes and returns to leaning back on his chair, legs once again kicked up onto the desk, muddy boots falling on a piece of paper Remus knows he'll probably have to rewrite, now. "All I'm saying is what do you have to lose? You ask her out she says no, you go back to staring at her like a right creep from two desks over, or," He makes a flourishing movement with his hands, ever the one for dramatics, "She says yes, you bang, fall in love, get married, have kids, etcetera, etcetera."

Sirius' smile is triumphant, like he truly believes he's some sort of genius and Remus can't help the way his lips tick up in amusement. Maybe he has a point, but anxiety still claws at Remus' chest.

"He's got a point, mate," James has pushed his laptop away from himself, his circular glasses balancing haphazardly on his forehead as he rubs tiredly at his face, "Even if he didn't, I'm still begging you to go over there just to get him," he jabs a finger at Sirius, who preens proudly, "to shut up so I can get this paper finished."

Remus sighs, mulls it over in his head, an endless list of outcomes, variables, it's what his scientist mind is programmed to think like. But he gives Sirius a look, finds his best friend staring at him earnestly, and he realises that Sirius doesn't actually see it as a big joke. He truly thinks Remus should do it.

"Fine." Remus bites, taking a breath and pushing himself out of his seat.

Sirius pumps his fists in the air so violently his chair wobbles, but Remus doesn't look back. If he does, he might turn around and give up, go back to staring from afar. God, maybe he is a creep.

You're so engrossed in whatever you're working on, you don't realise Remus hovering at the seat across from you. When you do, you jump a little, and Remus opens his mouth to apologise, but you're already speaking, a wide smile gracing your lips, features completely taken over by the kindness in your eyes - you recognise him, "Remus, right? You're friends with Marls."

Remus nods, swallows the thickness in his throat. He doesn't trust himself to talk, just yet, so he's grateful when you nod your head to the seat across from you, welcoming him to sit. You half close the lid of your laptop, offering him your full attention and wait patiently for him to talk.

"How are your midterms going, by the way?" You ask when Remus finds himself unable to start a conversation.

You don't seem put off by his apparent silence, more than happy to carry the conversation if he needs. He's grateful, because your direct question has given him a reason to speak, a boundary of the things he can say. He's not worried about shouting just how beautiful he finds you for the entire campus library to hear when he has a strict criteria of answers he can give. Well. He's less worried. It's still not impossible.

"Uh, alright, thanks. You're taking Art History, right? Hows that going?" He hopes he's not misheard Marlene's brief introduction, and he knows he hasn't when you preen at his remembrance.

You nod enthusiastically, hair bouncing over your shoulders with the movement, "Yeah! It's currently kicking my arse, but I'll pull through. I imagine it's not as hard as," you pause, brows furrowing for half a second before Remus sees a lightbulb go off behind your eyes, your smile returning, along with the smooth plane of your forehead, crease gone, "Astro-physics, right?"

Remus tries not to think about the way his entire stomach knots up and threatens to give out over the fact you know what his degree is. There's every chance Marlene has told you, like she told him your degree, but he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you'd asked about him. Instead, he smiles dutifully, even though he can feel his somewhat calm and collected exterior melting away, "Yeah, astro-physics. But I imagine they're equally challenging in different ways."

You seem to like that answer, following along and nodding amicably to show you're listening, "I suppose you're right. Although, I think you could explain it to me like a five year old, and I'd still be lost."

Remus laughs. Not at you, but at the perplexed expression on your face as you imagine such a scenario. You shake your head out, giving him your full attention again. You're so lovely. So sweet and nice and Remus feels like he might actually have a shot, if your kindness and patience so far is anything to go on.

"If it makes you feel any better, I couldn't tell you squat about the Mona Lisa." Remus shrugs.

It's your turn to laugh, your head tilting back ever so slightly as it rocks through you. The sound is like music to Remus' ears. He decides then and there he'll do anything, forever, to get you to make that sound again. He commits it to memory, allows it to warm his chest, potential heart attack be damned.

"You're cute, Remus Lupin." You're amused as you say it, eyes shining with a kind of fondness Remus allows to steal his breath.

He thinks maybe you don't mean to say it, at first, but when your gaze holds his, confident and teasing Remus knows. He just. He knows. You're into him, too. Maybe not as deep as he's into you, but the interest is there and that's all Remus cares about.

"A few of us are going to the pub in a few for some drinks, Marlene will be there. Did you maybe want to join us?" Remus asks, an uncomfortable heat in his cheeks even though he knows you're likely to say yes.

He chuckles when you pretend to think it over, pout twisting into an amused grin when you go to speak, "Sure, Remus. I'd love to."

Remus feels like he's won some sort of gold medal, maybe the lottery. He's not sure. But what he does know is that his blood is thrumming through his veins in a way it never has before with pure elation. You're grinning ear to ear, already beginning to pack up your things. He waits patiently while you do, following your lead in standing up. You round the table, closer to him, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Remus?" You ask, stepping into his space and he can smell your perfume, your shampoo, so sweet he thinks he's going to pass out.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"I only have one condition."

He arches an eyebrow, urges you to go on.

"Next time, it's just us two. A proper date." You smile sweetly, completely unaware of the affect your sultry voice has on Remus' already weak knees.

His breath catches in his throat as you look up at him, your tiny hand encircling his wrist oh so carefully.

"Yeah?" His voice is gravelly, lips threatening to turn up in a wicked grin, "I'm sure we can make that happen."

Just like that, you step out of Remus' space, hand dropping his wrist and your teasing smile falling back into your soft, kind grin, "Great. I'm all yours for the rest of the night, Remus."

Remus almost groans as he leads you back over to Sirius and James, who are grinning like cheshire cats as they pack up their belongings to follow suit with you and Remus. He's met his match, he thinks. You're well and truly going to be the end of him.

Not that he cares in the slightest.

#marauders #remus lupin #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin oneshot #marauders fic #marauders one shot #marauders fluff #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #love #fluff #regulus black #peter pettigrew #fourmoonys asks

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dduane · 11 months

Text

The Young Wizards series turns 40!

...And yes, we're having a sale to celebrate. But that can wait. :)

I'm sitting here looking at the date and considering how amazing it is that, despite the changes in the publishing world, anything can stay in print nonstop for forty years.

But this book has. Here's how it started:

...Well, not how it started. It started with three things:

A newbie YA writer being deeply annoyed with a non-newbie one for (as she thought) stripping their teenage characters of their agency without good reason.

A suddenly-appearing joke involving two terms or concepts that wouldn't normally appear together: the 1950s young-readers' series of careers books with titles that always began So You Want To Be A..., and the word "wizard."

And the idea immediately springing from that juxtaposition. What if there was such a book? Not a careers book, but a book that told you how to be a wizard—maybe some kind of manual? One that would tell you the truth about the magic underlying the universe, and how to get your hands on it... assuming you felt you could promise the things that power would demand of you, and survive the Ordeal that would follow?

Six or seven months after that confluence of events, there was a novel with that joke-line as its title. A month or so after that, the novel was bought. So You Want To Be A Wizard came out as a Fall 1983 book, as you can see from the Locus Magazine ad above (from back when Locus was only a paper zine). The first reviews were encouraging.

And by the middle of 1984, the publishers were asking, "So, what's next?" A question I'm still busy answering.

There's been a lot of water under the wizardly bridge since. In SYWTBAW's case, this involved a couple/few publishers, a surprising number of covers, a fair number of awards here and there; and lots more books. (I always knew there'd be more, but how many more continues to surprise me. Which is a bit funny, considering how much stuff that universe has going on in it.)

So here we are at forty, and looking ahead to The Big Five-Oh with some interest. More books? Absolutely. Young Wizards #11 is in progress at the moment, and YW #12 is in the late concept stages. More covers for So You Want To Be A Wizard? Seems inevitable. A TV series, perhaps? (shrug) Stranger things have happened: we'll keep our fingers (or other manipulatory instrumentalities) crossed. The New Millennium Editions in translation? and in international paperback? Working on that right now. The sky's the limit.*

And meanwhile, to celebrate, just for today we'll have a sale. (Except in the UK. To our British friends, the usual sad apology: the expensive bureaucracy of Brexit has made it impossible for us to sell directly to you any more. Details here, with our apologies.)

As has been mentioned before, changes are afoot at Ebooks Direct, so this kind of sale won't be happening again for the foreseeable future. (In fact I thought we were all done with them already. But the number 40 suggested one last opportunity that wouldn't be recurring, so I thought, "Aah, what the heck? Let's.")

New things first! Today, to mark this occasion, we're introducing the "All The Wizardry" Bundle. This is Ebook Direct's entire inventory of Young Wizards works; the contents of the bundle are listed on its product page. The $29.99 price listed there is for today only, to celebrate SYWTBAW's birthday, and will go up as of 23:59 Hawai'ian time tonight. As always, should you ever lose your ebooks or need to change reading platforms, we'll change your formats as necessary, or replace the books, for free.

Just click here, or on the image below, for the "All The Wizardry" Bundle. (Please ignore the category listings under the "Pay Using..." icons on the product page: they plainly think they're in a different universe. Kind of an occupational hazard around here...)

The other, older kind of sale folks will have seen here is on the "I Want Everything You've Got" Bundle, which is the whole Ebooks Direct store—obviously including all the Young Wizards books as well: more than 2.5 million words in 36 DRM-free ebooks. Just for today, in honor of the birthday book, we're dropping the whole-store price to USD $40.00. This, too, will go away just before midnight Hawai'ian time tonight... and it will never be lower. So if you want everything we've got at that price, don't wait around.

Make sure you use this link or the one associated with the image to get the baked-in discount at checkout. (If it fails to display correctly, use the discount code "40FOR40" in the checkout's "discount code or gift code" field.)

Meanwhile? Onward into the next decade. The new A Day at the Crossings novel unfortunately won't make it out before the end of 2023; other work in-house currently has taken priority. But as for early 2024... stay tuned.

And for those of you who're Young Wizards readers, and have kept this book, and its sequels, alive for pushing half a century?

Thank you, again and always!

*Though actually, it's not, is it? As the proverb has it, "Wizardry doesn't stop at atmosphere's edge..."

#Young Wizards series #Young Wizards meta #So You Want To Be A Wizard #ebooks #Diane Duane

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anyarose011 · 8 days

Text

"Crawling Back to You" {Aemond x Reader}

Summary: It started with a night out in King's Landing, then a fake name, and then a disagreement. Some time after cooling off, and after a job gone wrong, you and the one-eyed prince come to...an understanding in the rain.

Part 2 of 3 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Oral sex (f and m receiving), nudity, groping, talk of death, swearing, canon-typical injury, sexual harassment (not done by Aemond), and mention of past child SA

Heyyyyyy pookies. So I just started my senior year and it's been hectic. BUT I hope this long ass chapter (it took me forever) makes up for it! I'm also not sure how accurately I'm writing Aemond. I mean, I know HBO is making him into the edgiest edge lord, but I'm taking creative liberties i guess. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 8.5k

“It’s a pleasure to finally put a name to your face. One that fits its beauty.” He smiled.

You lowered your gaze, fighting the smile on your lips. It was a stupid compliment, one that you had heard several variations of the rare times men would flirt with you those days. But…it felt different from him.

Still, you merely scoffed, setting the jug on your hip. “Do you want to lead the way, or should I?”

“Go ahead; considering you believe I’ll harm you somehow.”

“See?” You decided to tease instead of defy as you began to walk up the cobbled hill. “You are funny.”

Aemond scoffed, following you. “Did I ever deny it?”

“How you reacted when I first said it never gave me a clear answer.”

“Shouldn’t you change?”

You looked back at him. “What?”

Unashamedly, his eye trailed over your body and yours soon followed. Your nipples were perking through the thin material of the dress.

“Seven Hells.” You cursed, bringing the jug in front of yours.

Aemond came to your side, a hand on your back and leading you up the hill. “You don’t wear a corset?”

“Not with this. I’m meant to lure lustful men, remember?”

“Perhaps you can tell me where you tailor so we can get more appropriate clothing?”

Hell no.

“Or,” you suggested. “I could teach you how to properly steal something?”

“You need to be able to not draw attention to yourself to do that.”

“I’ve done it before.”

“I have no doubt, but the clothing off a man’s back?”

You paused for a moment before replying. “Yes, actually; I even managed all of one’s undergarments.”

Aemond shook his head, pulling his hood farther up to hide his smile. “I mean more so with that dress.”

“It might surprise you, but that is how I robbed him blind.”

“I mean in the sense that-.”

“-I understand.” You shut him up, but not aggressively. The two of you passed by more and more people through the many alleys of King’s Landing. When you got to the main roads, you would’ve lost Aemond in the crowd if it weren’t for the fact his hand had traveled from your back to your arm.

Maybe it was because he was paying you, or maybe it was because you didn’t know how touch starved you had been until it felt like his hand was simultaneously burning and soothing you; but you welcomed his touch.

As you continued to brave through the busyness of the city, you managed to spot a hobbling man wearing a long cloak with a drink in his hand. You smirked at your companion.

“Are you watching?”

He nodded, and how he looked you up and down briefly didn’t escape you. “I’m watching.”

You handed him the jug of water and approached the slightly incapacitated man. You pitched your voice up when you asked. “Ser?”

The man glanced up at you through hooded eyes, and he grunted in response.

“Are you alright?” You feigned concern, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to hold him up.

“Aye.” He sighed. “Much better now that you’re here.”

You giggled, leading him. “You’re too kind.”

“If it’s possible, could that kindness be repaid?”

“Let me at least have your name first,” you turned him down a spacious alleyway where there were less people. “Then I will know what to scream.”

“Gaius. You may-oi!”

You snatched the cloak right off his shoulders and took off in a mad dash down the rest of the alley. Turning your head over your shoulder for merely a second, you were graced to watch as the drunk man stumbled over his own footing before two hands in front of you grabbed your arms. Once you were pulled around the corner, you raised your hands to strike your assailant; to which he caught both of them.

“Is it truly that easy to rob Smallfolk?” Aemond asked, not letting go of your wrists.

Snickering, you pulled away from him. “I thought you said you were watching me?”

“I was.”

“Clearly not.” You slipped the cloak over your body, tying it. “You were lurking in the shadows.”

“I still saw you.” He retorted.

Shaking your head, you bent down and picked up your jug of water on the ground. Then, you stuck your hands into the pockets of the cloak. Your face lit up, and your retracted your hand, holding four pennies in your palm.

“Come with me.” Was all you said before walking past him and continuing down the street.

Aemond was by your side once more. “And where exactly are you taking me to?”

“Are you fond of sweets?”

“I enjoy them, but rarely indulge.”

“Then I will be more of a temptress tonight without having to show any of my skin.” You said excitedly.

All the prince did was smile; somehow trusting your ‘madness’. It was a short walk from where you were to a small stand in one of the several market corners of King’s Landing. Despite the long line, you pushed to the front, ignoring all of the comments and curses from the people.

“Evening, Marija.” You greeted the older woman. “Oh my, has someone bewitched you? You look younger!”

“What do you want?” She sighed your name tiredly, but a pleasant smile was on her features.

Sliding the four pennies onto the counter, you said. “Two dishes of Northern Snow.”

“Do you have two other pennies?”

“This was all I was paid.” You sighed. “You know how short everyone is on coin.”

“Precisely why I need every bit of what is owed to me.”

Shaking your head, you lowered your voice. “Do you see the man lingering behind me? The one with one eye.”

She glanced over your shoulder for just a moment, long enough for it to look like an accident and not a stare. “Yes?”

“He’s a rich lord from Essos,” You began the lie with a truth. “and he has fallen in love with me.”

“You have always told marvelous tales, but even for you-.”

“-Marija…I have a good feeling about him.” You spoke with more insistence. “You know that doesn’t happen very often.”

The older woman looked at you for a little longer, as if to try and pick apart your deceit. Then, when she could find no trace of it, she sighed heavily. Still, she brought out two small vanilla cakes and laid them on the counter, then brought out the bowl of puffy cream.

“You better invite me to this extravagant wedding of yours.” She frosted the cakes with the cream, creating a fluffy topping that looked as if it was true snow itself. Marija then drizzled melted chocolate over both cakes before handing them to you. “Considering this handsome stranger is wealthy.”

“He is strange.” You chuckled. “A bit arrogant too, but I shall live.”

“All men are arrogant.”

“You have not met this one. Thank you, Marija.”

“Sure, sure,” she scoffed. “Give me your water as well; I’m parched.”

“Only if you give me the jug back. I need it.”

“I’ll come around tomorrow and visit Yelena in the meantime, is that alright?”

Your smile fell for just a moment, before forcing it back. “Sounds great!”

Rushing away, you could barely hear her goodbye before you soon found Aemond again, handing him the dish. His nose wrinkled as you immediately sunk your fork into the pastry. “What is this?”

“Northern Snow.” Your answer was somewhat muffled by the amount of food in your mouth. “Marija’s traveled across the realms and has been popular for her desserts. The snow is just whipped cream with sugar and some rosewater.”

“The brown parts?” He poked the treat.

“Chocolate, but it’s meant to look like horse droppings.”

“I believe I’ll pass.”

You shook your head. “I’m meant to be showing you around the joys of the city that is not just brothels. Trust me.”

He matched your seriousness. “And if I find it revolting?”

“Then you may know where I tailor.”

Humming, he smiled as he dug his fork into the cake and then into his mouth. He pursed his lips together as you watched him ponder the taste. Then, he shook his head, taking another bite.

“You must be a witch to have known I would favor it.”

Smiling victoriously, the two of you walked a short while through the congested market until you managed to find two chairs and a table.

“What did you tell her?” He asked as you sat. “The woman who made this?”

“That you were Prince Aemond and would have my head if I did not serve you a Smallfolk delicacy.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t.” You agreed, taking a bite of your treat. You hesitated on your next words. “I…she’s a romantic, and I didn’t have enough for the cakes, so I told her you were a rich lord courting me.”

It was nice you didn’t immediately expect him to lash out or condemn you to your death; he seemed genuinely composed every time you were with him, and he stuck to that.

“And what was my name?” He humored.

“I didn’t tell her one.” You teased. “If you were not yourself, what would you have wanted to be called?”

He hummed, taking time for an answer before settling on. “Ciarán.”

“I’ve met one or two of those.” You nodded. “It’s a good name.”

“Might I ask you a question now?”

“Of course.”

“Do you summon your knife out of thin air, or do you hide it in your cunt?”

Choking on your food, you placed your hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. Once you were alright, you finally looked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“The rumors I’ve heard of you isn’t just about your beauty.” He grinned, knowing the effect on you. “It’s known that you assault men with a blade, but I’ve heard conflicting accounts.”

You stared at him for a little longer before shaking your head, snorting. “Inside of my thigh, like a normal person. You nearly grazed it the first night.”

“Did I?” He tilted his head to the side.

Nodding, you smirked as you took another bite. It was then that his eye darkened just a hint. “What?”

Aemond didn’t verbally respond. Instead, he bunched up the sleeve of his shirt, reached over to take your face into his free hand, and wiped the corner of your lip with his sleeve. “You had something white on your face.”

It was your turn to hum at his statement, continuing to eat; yet, you would glance at him more often while you slid the fork into your mouth, tongue trying to lick the utensil clean of the whipped cream. You both finished up in silence between each other, yet the people around you only chatted excitedly, laughed boldly, or moaned and fucked one another in the dingiest of places nearby.

“Is it fun to be a prince?” You asked, pushing in your chair when you bother stood to leave.

“I wouldn’t call it such.” Aemond shrugged, following suite, and the two of you were wandering aimlessly once again.

“Then what is it you do for fun?”

“I find myself in the library often; reading, studying the history.” He listed. “I train with Ser Criston Cole, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and the Hand of the king.”

“You sound like you enjoy his company.”

“I enjoy making him falter as we spar.” He looked at you. “You mustn’t be so horrible in combat. On account of you supposedly taking men’s lives for bounties.”

Shaking your head, you place your hands in the pockets of the cloak. “I don’t take pride in it. I’ve also had my fair share of bruises and broken bones.”

“How many have you killed?”

“How many have you?”

Your response would’ve only worked if it had not been for the well-known fact he had killed Lucerys; something you had forgotten when you saw him again. Now, there you both were, your pace slowing equally in the silence that was the discomfort you had created.

Still, he responded. “Only one; and I assume you along with the rest of Westeros knows who by now.”

Nodding, you kept your eyes down on the road in front of you.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I did it?” He questioned.

You shook your head. “It’s not my place. If you wish to tell me, then tell me. If not, then I believe it’s your turn to ask something about me.”

Humming, he prodded. “Again, how many men have you killed?”

“The same as you.” You stood closer to him as a crew of rowdy men began to pass by. “He was an angry man; a ratcatcher fired from his profession, and to my luck, with no family or anyone to miss him.”

“It must have been his luck as well, considering what happened to all of them merely a week ago.”

You didn’t want to acknowledge the gate into that conversation. “I had only done the luring and thievery for a single moon; the worst I had come across was a bloodied nose and a bruised rib. This night…Chansey had warned me not to pursue him, but I was young and ignorant. I didn’t even get to the well before he came up behind me and…”

This was far too intimate of a story to tell someone you had only met twice; nonetheless, one of the princes of Westeros. You decided to end it as soon as possible. “He didn’t hurt me in the way you’re thinking. We struggled against one another, I had no knife with me at the time, but he did. He dropped it as we fought, we both reached for the blade, and I got it first.”

The two of you had somehow wandered into a small, quiet square; perhaps only a few other people resting from a drunken bender. Aemond, with his hands behind his back, simply inquired.

“Did he have anything of value on him?”

Shaking your head, you grinned. “Three pennies, a half-penny, and a surprisingly clean red scarf.”

“And the scarf was the most priceless.”

“Of course. I would’ve died in the winter without it.”

You both chuckled, and it was him who halted the walking. You stopped in front of him a few places.

“I hadn’t meant to kill Luke.” Aemond admitted softly.

“Lucerys?” You clarified.

“Yes; only frighten him.” He sighed. “It…it was an unfortunate outcome to what I had intended.”

If he were not himself (perhaps the rich Lord Ciarán he wished to be for that one night), then you would have told him it did not matter what he intended. A boy was dead and that put all of Westeros at risk. Still, whilst your anger was present, you understood you would never know what happened that day. You also understood his regret above all; you had no right to act like a saint.

“Is there anything I can do?”

You genuinely had no idea how to respond to him. So, you did what your mother had done for you whenever you were upset as a child: Ask what you needed from her.

His eye met yours, and you somehow found the courage to not look away from him. After what felt like a lifetime, he approached you suddenly and gradually wrapped his arms around you. Your body was akin to a corpse with how frozen you had become. Still, it didn’t last for long as you found yourself easing into his hold, your own arms around his neck. The night was so quiet, you could hear his shallow breaths in your ear.

Then, his hand slipped into your pocket.

At the sudden change of touch, you flinched out of his touch, but he merely shushed you, pulling away fully. You reached into the pocket and pulled out what he had promised you; three silver moons.

Swallowing thickly, you looked up at him and saw…an array of emotions you could not describe. So, you spoke first.

“I…I hope tonight was enough for you. I’m not sure what else I-.”

“-It was nice.” He interrupted, his gaze still on you. “Lovely, even.”

Nodding, you pocketed the moons and kept your hands at your side. “I bid you a goodnight, Little Prince.”

He rose his brow. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to call me that.”

“Will you have my head then, your grace?” You taunted.

“I should.” He walked closer to you. “But I won’t. What direction is your house?”

Your heart leapt; yet, not in the way it should have after an attractive man (you would later admit) made a forward remark.

“Oh no, I will not bother you.”

“It is not a bother if I desire to see you home safely.” He argued.

“Aemond,” you stepped back, not wanting to play a game. “I don’t want you to walk with me for the rest of the night.”

The quietness returned; but, not one of comfort. He didn’t look angry, and that was what frightened you. He merely stood tall like a man.”

“I see.”

“I didn’t mean to say it so-.”

“-Yet you said it.”

Shaking your head, you tried again. “I offended you, and I’m sorry. My house is no place for anyone other than myself and-, not even other smallfolk.”

“I wouldn’t go inside if that is what worries you. I am merely curious.”

“Look,” you approached him again, only for him to step away. “if you wish to see me again, I wouldn’t mind at all-.”

“-As long as I have coin.”

Your face went blank for a few seconds you had been so shocked by his words, and soon formed a scowl. “You had offered.”

“You didn’t reject it.”

All you could do was laugh. “You-!”

He wasn’t the one to cut you off, it had been yourself. Taking a deep breath, you folded your hands over your mouth to ponder your next words. You were tired, frustrated, and wanted to go home. So, you did exactly that.

“Be safe on your journey back to the Red Keep.” Was all you said, and you brushed past him, expecting him to call you a nasty name, or chase after you again.

But, like the first night you had met him: He did nothing.

A week later, you were back where you’d always been at night: Sylvi’s brothel. As you prettied yourself, the girls were restless; not with enthusiasm for the clients, but for the talk of war. Whether it was the fear of death it would bring, or the lust for strong men to take comfort inside of a woman.

You were a part of the former. Not as horrible as some girls (you found one vomiting up her dinner after the discussion), but you had to admit you were judgmental of those excited about it. You yourself had never experienced war…but if it was just a smidge like the violence you and other women had ever suffered multiplied by a thousand…it wasn’t something you were looking forward to.

Later, you waited in Sylvi’s private quarters (the one place no one is allowed to go during work hours unless she permitted it) until it was Chansey who came, saying she had quarry for you.

She had been with an older, retired member of the Lannister guards. He was three and fifty, she told you; fucked like an animal, but when it was over, while he desired to do it again, his body ached so horribly he could only walk.

It was meant to be easy…but for any reason at all, it wasn’t that night.

You stumbled as you brought your knife out, and he unsheathed a dagger from his side. You fought and fought, it almost being like a twisted dance; he’d strike, you’d doge, and vice versa. He swiped against your side, and it stung but you had no time to even seethe in pain as he brought his blade up to stab you again.

He’d gotten tired sooner than you imagined, and you grabbed onto his sleeve, then dragging him into a handful of barrels nearby. He landed in a crash, and he wasn’t getting up. He was still breathing as you looted him. A few Coppers and a silver Stag.

It was only then, as you pushed your way through the boisterous crowds, that you felt your head begin to lighten, and your side grow heavy. Looking down at the gnawing pain, you saw crimson soak your thin gown. Oh…you were wounded.

“Chansey?” You called out over the groaning of whores and their patrons once you made it back to the brothel. The lights seemed dimmer than usual, and with one hand keeping pressure on your wound, you used your other to tap the shoulder of the nearest server.

She gasped upon seeing you. “What happened?”

“Where’s Chansey?” You asked.

“She-she’s with someone.”

“Seven Hells, already?!” Sighing, you took one of the chalices off her tray. “Fuck it, I’ll do it myself.”

And you took it in one gulp. The server gaped at you as you took another one, also downing it like it was water. “Thank you.”

Her voices of worry were once again drowned out by the sound of constant pleasure from every corner of the brothel. Now, what the server did not tell you, was that it wasn’t the cheap wine usually served to the common payer; no…it was incredibly rich, and incredibly strong.

It also didn’t help you barely ate or drank water that day. So, to no one’s surprise but yours, you were stumbling through the entire pleasure house.

“Needle and thread?” You slurred, pulling open one of the curtains abruptly only to see five naked women lying next to two men. “Sorry.”

You felt the blood begin to seep through the small cracks of your fingers and your pressure wavering as you made your way to the next curtained area.

“Do you have a needle and thread?” You asked again, being welcomed by Valda laying on her back with a man’s head between her legs.

She screamed at your intrusion and cried your name. “What the fuck?!”

“Hey,” in your haze, you found it amusing. “do you know where Chansey is?”

“Get out!”

“Okay, okay.” you whistled at the man. “Good ser, I do declare that you are a gift from The Seven because only They know how many men actually come here to-.”

“-Wait, are you bleeding?!” She sat up in alarm.

You left immediately, taking deep breaths to try and remain upright as you continued your search. A hand grazed your shoulder.

“Are you alright, girl?”

A putrid looking man questioned with a toothy grin as you turned briefly to see who touched you. You nodded. “I’m fine, go away.”

“Hey now,” he tried to make a grab for you again, but you shoved him off. “don’t be like that.”

“I’m dying, I think I can be.”

“Let me give you a little death.” He flirted.

You grabbed the nearest curtain, tossing it aside. “For fuck’s sake, does anyone have a-?!”

Words failed as you gazed upon Madame Sylvi sucking the cock of a standing man. It was then that your eyes traveled up his body, and saw a familiar, silver-haired prince.

A prince with one eye shut, and a sapphire where an eye-patch should have been.

Your mouth ran dry at the sight of him falling apart in whimpers, and it dropped once his eye opened and immediately went to yours.

Aemond released a loud groan, tossing his head back as cum dripped through the creases of Sylvi’s mouth. She drew herself away from him, still on her knees, wiping her mouth and looking over at your interruption.

“What in the devil’s name are you doing here?!”

Your words fell into syllables as you genuinely had no idea what to say. Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw the man that had been following retreat.

“Hey!” You yelled, hobbling after him. “You sheep fucker, get back here!”

Two hands grabbed your shoulders and turned you around sharply, causing a reminder of the wound in your side. You hissed, clutching it and trying to smother a cry. You kept your head low as the person who had manhandled you led you back into Sylvi’s small room. You were laying on the pillows and thin mattress. It was then you saw Aemond Targaryen hovering above you.

“No-!” You tried to push him away.

“-Calm down.” He insisted, restraining you. “You’re going to make it worse.”

“If you touch me, I’ll carve out your other eye and feed it to your mother.” You slurred.

Instead of killing you right there, he thinned his lips. “While I don’t doubt that, you shouldn’t need to worry; I’m well spent.”

You gagged, shutting your eyes in disgust and tossing your head further into the pillow you rested on. You felt a presence soon beside you, and you opened your eyes to see Sylvi.

“My prince,” she turned to Aemond. “please wait in my personal quarters and I’ll-.”

“-I’ll hold her down.” He interrupted. “She’s a fighter, if you don’t know.”

“Believe me,” she unscrewed a bottle of alcohol. “I do.”

Sylvi hiked up your dress, completely exposing you from the waist down, and poured liquid over your side, causing a squeal to escape your throat. In an attempt to not just remain calm for yourself and everyone else in the building, you did your best to stifle your cries. It only became harder to do once Sylvi stuck a needle in your skin.

That was when you instinctively rose yourself up, only for Aemond to force you back down, putting his entire weight upon you. Your hands traveled up to his bare shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin and even scratching in an animalistic attempt to get him off of you.

Tears welled in your eyes as you took in quivering breaths and suppressed your grunts in pain. It looked like everything was underwater, and you could barely make out the face of the man above you. You only saw the shimmering jewel where his left eye should’ve been.

Then, the pain was over.

Your heartbeat began to slow down, and it was no longer the only sound in your ears. Your body rose momentarily as you felt bandages being wrapped around your waist, and your dress finally lowered, covering your nakedness. You felt a warm hand brush your face gently before it pulled away abruptly.

“What did you do now?” Sylvi sighed, tossing her materials away.

You groaned, unable to move. “Bad job.”

“And so, you decided to come and bother me?”

“Chansey was fucking someone and I-.”

“-Watch your words!” She lightly slapped your face and whispered fiercely. “Prince Aemond is here, and I will not have you speak like that.”

You laughed, glancing over at Aemond, who had put his pants on, and was working on his shirt. “Do you hear that, Aemond? I can’t say ‘fuck’!”

“Are you drunk?” She hissed.

“Nooooo.” You trailed off before giggling.

Sylvi stood, placing her head in her hands and shaking her head. Now noticing how strange the whole situation was, you pushed yourself up. Your body was scalding, but you would rather die walking away from embarrassment than in the heat of it.

“He had some coin.” you sat up. “I don’t know where it went, but I’ll find it. I have to go home now.”

“You are not walking out like this.” She pushed you back down.

“I’m not sleeping here.”

“I’ll take her back.”

The prince stood tall, slipping his patch over the sapphire. Sylvi shook her head. “No.”

“Are you questioning my authority, Madame?” He challenged.

You watched her flinch. Then, taking a breath she explained. “You needn’t bother with her; she’s a humble, little thing that doesn’t listen to anyone other than herself. Besides, you requested and paid for two hours, yet you have only used twenty min-.”

“-I will gladly spend the rest of it escorting her home.”

Again, the only sounds being heard was skin slapping alongside loud moans outside. You looked in between the prince and the Madame as if you were a child being fought over. So, coughing, you sat up again.

“Can I wear my own clothes, please?”

Sylvi, for the first time that night, coddled you. “Of course. Aemond, could you tell the first girl you see to fetch her clothes from my quarters, please?”

He nodded, leaving you two alone. When he was out of sight, she brushed the hair sticking against your sweaty face.

“Tell him you changed your mind, and you’re too weak to walk.” She begged.

“And if he says he’ll carry me?”

She scoffed. “He won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

Sylvi kissed your cheek as if to soothe you. “I don’t want you to be alone with him.”

“He told me he already had his fill of cunt.”

“Men can still hurt little girls without their cock.”

“Take a look at me,” you sassed. “don’t you think I already know that?”

She said your name softly. “He’s not as kind as he seems.”

“No, he’s not. He acts like he’s been born out of an ass’ ass. I mean…how you feel about the Dowager Queen-.”

Slamming a hand over your mouth, she spoke in your ear. “-Not another word from you. You listen to me; I’ve come to know him for the years I’ve spent with him longer than the weeks you have had with him.”

“If he’s so horrible,” you took her hand away. “then tell me what he has done.”

“He-.”

“-Never mind, I don’t care.”

Instead of stepping into the room, Aemond had tossed your set of clothes through the curtains, landing on the floor. Without words, but with looks that could kill, Sylvi helped dress you and then led you out of the brothel.

It was downpouring, and while your clothes thankfully covered almost every inch of your skin, save for your face, you weren’t in the mood to be bathed in rainwater. Sylvi hadn’t even wished you a proper goodbye; just nodded to a hooded Aemond beside you and went back inside.

“I assume you can walk?” He asked, almost annoyed at his own idea to walk you home.

“You’re not going to carry me?” You teased.

“No.”

Sighing dramatically, you took a few steps out into the rain, and immediately felt agonizing pain. Well, not as bad as earlier, but it hurt. Still, you decided to follow the best given advice: Walk it off.

“Stop, stop.” Aemond shook his head after you limped four more steps, coming to your side. “Lean against me.”

You didn’t argue, draping your arm over his shoulders. You both walked as quick as you could in the rain, you giving him directions the best you could (he had to turn around twice to go back to the same fork in the road) until you tapped his shoulder.

“Wait-wait, I don’t feel good.”

“Seven Hells.” He cursed, pulling you over to the side of the street. Grabbing your hands he placed them on the nearest wall, standing behind you to guide you.

“Hey, hey!” You rose your voice. “Don’t-don’t you even think of hiking my skirt up!”

“You’re going to smell like death in a moment, why would I ever-?”

“-Because men are…are…”

You gagged, and Aemond’s hands immediately vanished as you threw up what little you had eaten that day. Your throat was on fire the whole time, making the chill of the rain even more apparent.

“Oi!” An older man yelled. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

You nodded, wiping your mouth and turning over to look at him standing in a doorway of his shop. “Yes, thank you!”

“Do you know that man with you?”

Before Aemond could say anything, you pat his shoulder affectionately. “I’ll have you know, this is Lord Ciarán of House…Strong…Man, Strongman. He’s one of the richest men in Westeros.”

“Is that so?” He nodded, then looked at your companion. “Lad, do yourself a favor and put your old lady to bed.”

Aemond forced a smile, taking your arm and returning it back to its proper place over his shoulder. The two of you were on the road again, you leading him blindly throughout the streets. The rain felt nice at this point; not exactly, but your throat had been parched, so most of the time, you were holding your mouth up and tongue out like a child to catch the rainwater.

At one point, he hissed in pain, his hand coming up to his eyepatch.

“What is it, what’s wrong?!” You gasped.

“Nothing.” He cursed. “’Just keep going.”

Reluctantly, you carried on through King’s Landing until you reached your home.

“Okay, we’re here.” You stopped him a few minutes later.

Aemond looked at the building before him; it was a bouchère. “Here?”

“No, down there.”

He followed your gaze, and sure enough, there was a set of stairs to the side leading down. Carefully, you both scaled down the steps, and entered your home.

There was no leaking anywhere, to your surprise. With only the little amount of light within the sitting room, you knew Aemond (even with one eye) could see just how much dust there was on the furniture.

“Hells,” he sighed heavily, slipping off his cloak before you could stop him. “how do you live in this humidity? I can barely breathe.”

“I-.”

“-Vivi.” A sweet, tired voice called for you.

In the corner of the room, in her usual chair, was your grandmother. Her eyes drew up to the door once you entered, and they were alight.

“I thought you were out for too long.” She stood.

“Evening, Gigi.” You staggered over, embracing her. “And how was holding down the fort?”

“Some mice almost came in, but I showed them who was the boss around here.”

“I’m sure you did.”

It was only then did she fully realize there was someone else with you; a man. A man with silver hair. She gasped, turning back to you.

“Siobhan, you didn’t tell me the king was visiting!”

You cackled. “Gigi no, this is my friend-.”

She gently took his hand into hers, kissing it. “-Your grace, you must forgive my dear girl; she has a knack for getting into trouble, but not for telling me things.”

And then, Aemond did something you weren’t expecting. He placed his other hand over your grandmother’s, smiling.

“All is forgiven.”

Her grin was contagious as she pulled her hand away to hike her long skirt up, walking to the kitchen. “Oh, I shall make tea! Imagine what Cassian would think?” She chuckled. “Jaehaerys himself in our house!”

The name she uttered sobered you up; not all of you, but enough for terror to return into your body. Once she was out of sight, with a growing fear in your eyes, you looked at Aemond.

“You-you must understand, she hasn’t been herself since I was a child. I don’t think she’s even aware there is-was another-.”

“-I’m not a fool.” He stopped you. Noticing you had the face of someone who would vomit for the second time that night, he said. “I told you; I enjoyed reading the histories. I’m well aware the king before my father was Jaehareys.”

Feeling as if you could breathe again, you rested against the wall. “Thank you.”

Aemond hummed. “Why ‘Gigi’?”

“She never liked me calling her ‘Grandmama’.”

“And who’s Siobhan?”

Your eyes drew to the ground. No mice were in the house, but a few spiders had made their way in. “My mother.”

“Ah.” Was all he could manage.

“She uh, she died when I was one and ten; that’s when Gigi…”

“How?”

“What?”

“How did she die?”

Something clogged your throat, and your head felt heavy all over again. Swallowing the lump, you tried to find the words to-.

“-Forgive me. “Aemond spoke. “I shouldn’t have prodded.”

“No, you-.” You shook your head. “I understand your curiosity.”

And there you two were, against the wall in silence. Sighing you finally said.

“She forgets what she was meant to do when she enters a room with a purpose.” You explained. “I guarantee you, she’s doing a puzzle instead of making tea. We don’t have the best leaves anyway.”

He nodded. “Do you wish for me to leave, then?”

Your eyes went to one of the only windows in the house; the long, thin panel at the top where you could see the feet of everyone in King Landing if it were a nice day. The rain came down harsher, the spattering of water being almost too loud.

“You can stay until the storm eases,” you answered. “if you want.”

“I would prefer it.”

Nodding, the heaviness of your head did not cease, and your eyes drifted to the doorway in the back of sitting room. You made your way through it, glancing back at Aemond.

“If I may be candid, I’m quite exhausted. So…unless you’d prefer being called ‘Your Grace’ by my grandmother, then you’re more than welcome to talk with me in my room.”

“Hm, the former sounds tempting.” Despite his words, he followed close behind you.

You pushed open your door, took a few steps towards your bed, and lowered yourself to lie down with a sharp wince. The prince took his time observing your room, taking in every little detail. From the residue of a mess being pushed under your bed, to old childhood art pieces up on the wall.

One piece had caught his eye the most. A sketch of a woman’s face; a haunting gaze in her eyes that would make anyone believe she was watching them.

Much like yours…

“This is Siobhan?”

Better to use your mother’s name as if she were a stranger instead of calling her ‘your mother’.

“Gigi drew that.” You smiled lightly. “It was on one of her namedays.”

“It’s beautiful.”

His compliment unnerved you before it flattered you. You deflected with a joke. “Beautiful enough to have her paint the Targaryens the next time they so desire it?”

“If she cannot remember to boil tea-?”

“-She is herself again when she does or speak of things she loves.” You sat farther up against the wall behind your bed “Even if they’re things that no longer are with us.”

He sat at the edge of the mattress. “And what are some of those things?”

Oh, where to start? As your mind rattled over what exactly to say first, you truly looked over Aemond for the first time. It was strange; you had acknowledged his attractiveness for just a moment, but never delved more into it.

Then, as you stared at him, you knew exactly what to tell him.

Giggling, you began. “Cassian was my grandfather; I hadn’t known him, he died before I was born. Still, if it’s not him she speaks about being in love with, it’s ‘Elio’; a Dornish man, her first love.”

“Some might say they are far greater than the one you marry.” He shrugged.

“She’s never told me his real name.” You leaned forward. “She said that he had to keep it secret from her for a long time, and he only told her after she got drunk, and he thought she wouldn’t remember.”

The two of you laughed lightly, and you kept going through your giggles. “He-he was only in King’s Landing for a year and went back to Sunspear. They would send ravens to each other, but then he stopped one day. She married my grandfather, had my mother, he died, and that was life.”

“And then there was you.”

You nodded, thinning your lips. “And then there was me.”

“You’ve talked about your mother, but you haven’t mentioned your father yet.”

Sighing, you rubbed your finger into the blanket you rested upon, looking away from him. “When my grandfather’s heart gave out, Gigi had to take on more work at the tailor’s and they still weren’t making enough for food. So…my mother took up working with Sylvi. She was fifteen, and Sylvi only let her cook and clean. When she was of age, she let her go to bed with the men for her coin. I could’ve walked past my father, and I wouldn’t be able to know.”

Aemond stared at her, nodding. “You’re a bastard.”

“It’s the one time I enjoy being smallfolk.” You shrugged. “I can just as easily lie and say my father died while married to my mother.”

“No one else knows?”

“Sylvi and Marija; the woman who gave us Winter Snow.” You scoffed. “Some old neighbors who’ve thankfully died, but I still remember their insults as I passed by them when I was just a child.”

He hummed, and you did not blame him for not saying anything after you. The two of you just existed in your childhood bedroom, the rain still beating against the roof, but not quite as hard this time.

“What were you like when you were a boy?” You questioned.

“Not like my brother or nephews.” He answered right away. “They…teased me a lot.”

“I’ve never had brothers or sisters, but aren’t they meant to?”

“Not like how they did.”

Oh…so it was bad. You wouldn’t ask him how horrible it was, knowing that there are some things no one would ever want to speak of.

“I’m sorry they did.”

He shook his head. “No need, it was years ago.”

“It was still wrong.”

Aemond didn’t say anything; didn’t even look at you. Then, for some reason…you felt compelled (maybe even okay) to tell him. “My mother she…died the same way my grandfather did.”

“His heart.”

“We-we think so. It’s strange though; she was so young, and just one night we were eating dinner, she stands to go tend to the fire…and she fell. It…it was as if her soul had been sucked away from her and all that was left was her body.”

“And you think you’ll die like her.”

Swallowing thickly, you had hoped he didn’t see right through you about that; but at the same time…how freeing it felt to be seen even in the most shameful and terrifying moments of life.

“She was the main provider for our house.” You went into more detail. “Gigi tried her best, but it wasn’t enough. My mother…Sylvi hasn’t told me everything she did to earn enough coin, and I don’t think I want to know. Many healers have said that people dying from a bad heart at such a young age is due to stress. I don’t know if they’re right, and even when I was one and ten, I did everything in my power not to feel so, but Gigi would wander around King’s Landing late at night, or we couldn’t afford food for days on end…”

You were vomiting all of your troubles onto him, it was disgusting; but, once you started, you couldn’t stop. The storm had picked up again, and from how the wind shook the walls of your room, you thought they would all crumble.

“Sylvi knew of us struggling, and she paid for our meals. I was to become an indentured servant to her, like how my mother was; cooking, cleaning, running odd errands…but she paid me in coin as well. I think-I think she thought I was going to follow in my mother’s footsteps when I was of age, but I refused. That’s when some of the girls and I came up with a way for me to make extra coin, and here we are.”

“She never let anyone younger than seventeen be a whore?”

For a moment, you pondered how that was the one thing he got from your nervous ramblings. Still, you decided it wasn’t best to think about it. “She didn’t want men bedding little girls.”

“I suppose it’s different for girls.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It was my thirteenth nameday when my brother brought me to Sylvi’s pleasure house.” He said it as if it was common knowledge. “He said I needed to know everything there was about women. Your Madame certainly taught me well. It makes sense I suppose; girls are taught to be more ashamed about it.”

Even with the storm still going outside, the only sound you could hear was the beating of your own heart. “…What?”

You remembered what it was like when you were that age. Your body felt strange, you bled between your legs for the first time, you wanted a husband right away one moment, and then wanted to be a child forever the next. You were good at talking to men who were older than you…but…being intimate? No…and Sylvi had…Sylvi had-?

“Is something wrong?”

If you were delusional, you would say he seemed concerned. Still, if you were to tell him that what Sylvi had done was hypocritical and despicable of her, you would go red in the face with tears, and he would only spit on you and say you wouldn’t understand, and-.

“-Your hair.” You said, having been staring at it whilst your mind rushed. “Has…has it always been curly?”

Aemond scowled, not in scorn, but in puzzlement. It must’ve started to dry as he spent time in the house; it must’ve been frizzy and horrible as well. “Yes.”

You forced a smile. “And here I thought only the ladies of the night burned their hair since men favor it straight.”

“Mothers too.” He sighed when he saw the look you gave him. “It curled more by the time I was fourteen. She had the servants straighten it for me ever since; I believe she hates anything about me that is a reminder that she is my mother.”

“Aemond…”

“I don’t need your pity. I’ve been with her since I was born, it is nothing new and I have-.”

You don’t know why you reached forward and combed a strand of his hair between two of your fingers. Maybe it was because you were still tipsy, or maybe it’s because you just wanted to. He flinched upon your touch, and so did you.

“For-forgive me,” you backed farther up your bed. “I-I forgot myself and I-.”

He brought himself forward, taking both of your hands. Without looking at you, he brought both of them into his hair. Almost like it was second nature, you began to gently run your fingers over his scalp. He shut his eye, his hands traveling to drape along your waste, and he bent his head to rest upon your chest.

It was strange. Strange but nice. You were holding him, but just to have the illusion of you also being cared for…not even your grandmother had done something like this for years.

“I like your hair just how it is.” You whispered after a minute. “If it matters at all.”

He merely hummed, his hand travelling under your shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt his finger caress the skin above your wound. Your hands did not still, continuing to comb through his hair softly.

His finger traveled farther up, circling the swell of your breast. You made a noise you hadn’t made before, and you thought you sounded ridiculous. He hummed against your chest, and…

And…

Something between your legs felt like it was beating; like your heart, but it wasn’t that.

“I’m going to touch you there.” He mumbled against the fabric of your shirt. “Alright?”

No, no it wasn’t alright, but it was at the same time.

It wasn’t okay because you’ve only heard stories about this from the girls at the brothel, but it was okay because-because you liked him, and he was-

and you were-

and everything feels warm-

and the way he talked to you-

and the way you-!

“Get off!” You whispered once you heard just the lightest of footsteps outside your door. He listened, backing away quickly to the edge of the bed. An almost silent knock came from your door, and you smiled. “Come in!”

Gigi pushed herself in, holding a tray with two steaming mugs, setting it on the bed. “I’m so sorry, your grace. We do not have tea leaves, so is milk alright?”

Aemond nodded. “It is.”

“How have the both of you been?”

You wore a thin grin. “Fine.”

She nodded, looking in between the two of you. As if she knew what had just taken place, she gave a wry smile and turned to leave. “Well, the rain is dying down now. Let me know if you two need anything else.”

“Thank you, Gigi.” You said without another thought.

She didn’t shut the door when she left. You picked up the mug, took a sip and immediately felt your body heal just a little. Warm milk does numbers on a soul.

“I should take my leave now.” The prince stood up abruptly, dusting himself off.

You tried to stand. “I’ll walk you out.”

The wound at your side burned every inch you moved, and you did a horrible job concealing it. Aemond gently took your shoulders, pushing you back down.

“Rest.” He commanded. “You’re injured, and it’s late.”

“And when have you ever cared?” You teased

“Perhaps just now.” He matched your tone.

“Do you know what I hate?”

“Me? Life itself? Men?”

“Yes, to the last two.” You feel your chest constrict at what you would say next. “I hate that you told Sylvi you would spend time with me because you paid her for…other things previously.”

Aemond tilted his head to the side. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “You…you no longer have to pay for my company. You’ve seen me in turmoil, and I’ve seen you naked.”

He laughed…he laughed in a way you’d never heard him laugh before. “Is that what makes us allies?”

“Friends?” You reworded. “You understand the meaning, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” He scoffed.

“So…are we friends now?”

Friends who touch each other in ways they usually don’t.

A hint of a smile spread across his lips. He took your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Friends.”

You dropped your face, hopefully to avoid him seeing how you blushed. The damage was done though. Regaining yourself, you took a deep breath and looked at him.

“And…I’m aware I won’t be the first person you’ll seek if you’re in distress, but please know I will help if you need it.”

“Do not call yourself inadequate.” He shook his head. “I might have some use for you.”

You scoffed. “How considerate of you.”

“Rest now.” He repeated, turning to leave without a proper goodbye.

You sat up. “Wait!” Aemond did not turn to look at you, but he stopped. “Your eye. When you were walking me home, you were in pain. Does it still hurt?”

He was silent. For a moment, you thought it was to come up with a lie, then you assumed it was to find the words to tell you the truth…you had too much faith in him for either.

“It’s late.” He said your name softly and walked out of your bedroom. You heard the front door open then shut.

And there you were, on your bed, alone with an undrunk mug of milk.

The rain had completely stopped.

#aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #hotd season 2 #game of thrones #aemond x reader

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stararch4ngelqueen · 11 months

Note

hear me out…jason proposing 😵‍💫 i’m such a sucker for a lowkey proposal like you’re just having a normal convo and he’s like “marry me” and you’re like wtf but you laugh it off bc like ofc he’s joking so when you’re like “you’re funny” he’s just dead serious, “marry me.”

I don’t really know where I was going with this, but if you get the reference I respect you.

—

Time written - 10:10 a.m

—

You weren’t a criminal when you met Robin, years before his tragic prime. It wasn’t every day when your paths crossed with a cape wearing teen around your age, even more so on his search of a bag of valuables you were ready to deny when it ‘accidentally’ came into your hands.

“Care to tell me how that happened?” The Boy Wonder at the time smirked, amused at your gawking face.

“Cat got her own tongue? What, you need some milk?”

You rolled your eyes. I you were a thief, you’d have sense to throw the satchel at his head. The cheesy jokes must’ve been a Robin thing. “I’m more of an Ice cream girl, actually. But, I didn’t steal this!”

To add up on this horribly unprecedented situation, Robin quirked a brow behind that domino mask of his, gesturing his head towards the bag of valuables in question.

“Trade you a milkshake for that.”

It was your turn to be incredibly confused, your mouth left open for quite some time. Was he serious right now?

“I choose the flavor.” You state after a further moment of thought.

“Seems fair.”

“And the place it’s bought from.”

“That’s askin’ a bit much,” Robin began to huff, hinting his growing smirk as your frown deepens.

“All I’m asking for is a five dollar shake in exchange for this bag full of hundreds of dollars, bird boy.”

“A five dollar shake in exchange for about seven hundred bucks inside that bag,” Robin points out, his smile growing bigger and bigger. “Throw in your phone number, an’ we got a deal, kitty cat.”

It turned into unconventional milkshake roof dates, sitting over the skylines, staring down at the chaotic world below as the two of you shared an unintentional paradise.

He’d tease your fear of heights, constantly calling you a Catwoman rip off, but he always made sure to never let you fall. Your relationship was sweet, too sweet, and gone way too fast.

Your rooftop dates were a tradition you kept alive when he died, only to resurface when a knock at your window interrupted you of sleep, opening your balcony to find a single milkshake perfectly balanced, with a bright black arrow drawn on the cup to meet Red Hood on the roof.

Jason Todd wasn’t the same as you remembered him to be, but he was still Jason, underneath all that broodiness that shielded him from whatever unseen traumas he hadn’t shared with you quite yet.

All these months since he ‘returned’, he always made sure to keep up your ice cream date schedules. Nine o’clock sharp on the roof of your apartment building. Sometimes, ontop of Wayne Industries on special occasions. He’d always be the one to carry you, especially now.

What did stick with him was his horrible Robin humor, which was what you believed he was using when he popped such an unexpected question.

“What?” Came your first response, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. A strange warm throb formed in your heart, thudding rapidly in your chest.

“What did you say?”

“Marry me.” He repeats again, never putting off that firm expression plastered on his face.

What an untimely thing to say in the calm before an unknown storm. Both of you were out of breath after chatting for an hour, sipping on thick melted shakes and laughing over the previous Boy Wonder.

“Jason, this isn’t funny.” You peer down at your cup, nearly finished with its contents. He always got your favorite.

“You’re right,” He agrees, his tone a little too calm to be considered any sort of joke.

All possibility of opportunity to pop a laugh and admit he was joking weighed heavily in the air, carried around by the nightly breeze. He never says he’s joking, never shrugs off such an alarming, mind blowing question.

“What if you’re kidding?” Your denial still leaks through, making his lips twitch upwards. It has to be a joke, he wouldn’t say it like this.

“What if I’m not?” He casually responds, nearly wearing down your patience.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

“I’m not.”

“Jason.” Saying his name so softly, littered with fear and hesitancy makes his second life heart melt. Being so sweet on his girl, even after his death, taught him a great lesson about time.

Regardless if he didn’t arrive at nine o’ clock sharp, or if you arrived two minutes late, time could easily be taken away, ruining everything.

He remains quiet, watching your flustered expression vary from your hands along your cup before setting it down beside you. Taking this chance, he gently grasps hold of your hand before it had a chance to retreat into the safety of your jacket pocket.

“I meant what I said,” Jason speaks again in a more calm, soothing tone of voice. “I know this ain’t traditional. I don’t exactly do traditional, but … I wanna marry you.”

His hand squeezes yours, making you hesitant to speak further. He was serious, the realization was heavily daunting in such a unique way. A unique, exciting way.

“Why?” You look at him again, swallowing slowly as he leans closer, nearly making you anticipate a kiss.

Instead, his forehead settles against yours, taking in the rich, crystalline serenity of your unique, radiant beauty.

“Because,” he mutters, “You waited for me.”

Dedication, patience, hope; That was worth more to him than gold, worth much more than the bag of valuables he knew you didn’t steal.

“I have a ring for ya,” Jason continues on whilst his thumb strokes along the back of your hand. “If you don’t like it, I’ll getcha whatever you want. We’ll have as big of a wedding as you want, then we’re gonna go somewhere.”

“Somewhere?” You whisper.

“Yeah. Just you and me; no crime fighting, no danger. Nothing. Just us.”

“Just us?”

“Yeah babygirl,” Jason peers into your eyes, wanting to coo at your noticeable tears. “Wherever you want. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

You just needed to say yes.

You couldn’t help but giggle with an overwhelming mix of emotions, your trembling hand reaching up to settle behind his hooded head.

“Why do I feel like,” you nearly laugh in between your words. “Why do I get this feeling you put the ring in my cup?”

“An’ ruin a perfectly good five dollar shake?” Jason expresses in surprise, chuckling along with your giddy laughter. “C’mon babe. I’m not that inconspicuous.”

“Then where is it?”

Jason tilts his head, raising a brow. “Why’re you asking, kitty cat? Plan on stealing it?”

“No,” you muse, your nose nearly bumping against his.

“You expecting me to slip it on right about now?” His hand finds purchase along your hip, cradling your supple body. “Dosent work unless you—“

You cut him off via a kiss, one he graciously accepts.

You tasted like cherry sublime mixed with the highlife, a good life where you always existed in it. If he were to die again, he needed to know that he went with one successful accomplishment. Marrying his Robinhood sweetheart.

“Yes,” you whisper, those tears you worked so hard to hold back cascading down your cheeks. “I’ll marry you, Jason.”

In knowing him since he was Robin, till you met him as the muscular, ever brooding Red Hood, you’ve never seen the man smile so big. His eyes shining brighter than the moon that was ever so beautiful tonight.

Grasping hold of your hips, he pulls you into his arms, carelessly tilting over his half finished milkshake cup in the process. His lips find you once more after sitting you in his lap, muscled forearms snuggly hugging around your waist, holding you as physically close to him as possible.

“The ring I gotcha-“ he muffles against your pretty lips in between kisses. “- is at my place. Waiting for you—on my bed.”

Your laugh was all you could respond with. From the very start, it’s as if he planned this all out. All it took was a bag of misplaced valuables and the promise of a five dollar shake.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #it’s an interesting thing #I like this but I don’t #idk why #I didn’t like how I wrote it #but i hope you enjoy #it

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billiedeansbitch · 5 months

Text

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑)

(𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Summary: The one where in Larissa sex life is no longer boring or Larissa took chance on a young shapeshifter who had a massive crush on her.

(AO3 link in the title)

A/n: after what it feels like a year of depression (lol) part three is finally done. (It's the longest chapter by far so buckle up)

<<PREVIOUS PART

It had been two weeks since she found out that she might be, as ridiculous as it sounded, carrying your child in her womb though she was still in the shadows of disbelief and that the results were something of an error because how? Just how…could this all make sense? Even with the results she paid hefty for wasn’t at all convincing. Were there some lessons she missed in the anatomy class that could somehow explain this phenomenon?

It felt cruel and sad, being played like this, it was her body yet it felt like it wasn’t her own. She was supposed to feel it, right? She should know like all the women who were able to predict their pregnancy by trusting their instinct—maybe her instinct wasn’t that strong enough to feel the changes going on or if there were any to begin with but her period was late. She missed it and that was enough for her to worry.

But alas, Larissa gave her mind a rest, choosing to not dwell on the matter; her days went as normal, nobody suspected anything, not even you. The sex continued, and it was great. She was living her best life…supposedly.

When morning came and the sunlight swept across the walls through the gaps of the curtains at seven in the morning on a wednesday, Larissa was up and about managing through her routine that she had so religiously been doing ever since she could remember.

The coffee was left brewing in the kitchen for later while she took her time in the bedroom, picking her clothes, the accessories she’d wear for the day, her perfume, what kind of wrist watch she was in the mood for and so on. Again, everything was normal like it should be.

Sated with the outcome of her makeup, she gave herself a once over through the mirror. She then slipped her kitten heels over her stocking clad feet, feeling them in since they were new and fresh out of the box.

Looking past her shoulders, she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander to her already made bed. Only three days ago you were lying there on your stomach, clad in nothing but her shirt that was obviously too big, swallowing your form until the tops of your thighs as you “innocently” read a book from her shelf.

It could have fooled her by the way the space between your brows creased but upon seeing the cover was turned upside down she knew you were only doing it for show or maybe you were bored out of your mind that your last resort to ease yourself was by doing something remotely childish.

Larissa made it a point to tell you that you were “reading” it wrong as she crossed her bedroom to grab a set of underwear from her drawer to which you told her that it was on purpose, that you were testing out how far you could read them upside down. She hummed, a smile unfurling on her lips. The woman was inexplicably drawn to you that even this did nothing to change her mind about you.

She let you be, hearing your soft murmurs in the background as she slid some clothes on. It was funny to think that only half an hour ago you were rearranging her insides and whispering filthy things into her ear making her own cum spill down the bedsheets. God, she was missing you already and there was no way she was able to deny it by the way she felt her chest squeezed.

The kitchen smelled like coffee when she entered the space, its aroma was so rich it nearly made her salivate. She needed it to start with her day knowing well that her body required it to function and stay alert, yet in the midst of pouring herself a cup, Larissa halted feeling a strange turn in her stomach and put the pot down. What little she had poured was wasted away in the sink.

Instead, she grabbed something to snack on: a mix of nuts that she had been liking as of late. She then left the house early and opted for a concoction of fresh blended fruit juice as well as two medium sized blueberry muffins from the roadside cafe on her way to Nevermore, she also ordered a loaf of their special banana bread with the intention to share it with the Nevermore staff and a slice for her, too, just incase she got hungry in the middle of work which she often did these past few days.

–

“Good morning, Principal Weems.” Enid, ever the sweet girl she was, greeted Larissa in the hallway on her way to the teacher’s lounge holding the goodies in one hand as the other held her drink.

The bounce in Enid’s step was enough for the woman to feel sort of amused. She reciprocated the smile and she greeted her, too.

“You look glowing, Principal Weems.” The younger woman chirped, still smiling. Larissa felt blush creeped to her cheeks. It wasn’t odd for Enid to rain people with compliments, it was actually her brand, and Larissa wasn’t a stranger to it as she, herself, had received it plenty of times yet she found herself dumbfounded particularly by this one. Her, glowing? Of course, she kept her appearance as sophisticated as one could muster while running an entire school of outcasts but glowing? No amount of makeup or creams or moisturisers she lathered her skin with could make her glow unless Enid was lying. Or buttering her up for something she wanted to ask as a favour from her later.

Before the woman could react, Enid was saying goodbye and breezed past her to catch up with her friends in the end of the hallway.

She brushed it off and headed to the teacher’s lounge.

This time it was the new professor who complimented her whilst taking a slice of banana bread for herself. Larissa could only stand right there and smile.

One by one they all had their piece, the last one to grab was Professor Vladimir, moaning when he took a bite. Larissa felt pleased by everyone's reactions, it was as if she baked it herself.

The little nudge on her arm pried her mind off of her thoughts, it was Professor Vladimir eyeing her, it was something that let Larissa know that she should leave now or she’d have to put up with his teasing.

“What’s the special occasion?” He had this irritating habit of wiggling his eyebrows up and down while he gave her smile that was just as ridiculous. “Had a good lay, Rissy?” She knew that nickname was coming and yet she had the audacity to be shocked and eyed him dirty.

“Do me a favour and shut your mouth, Vlad.” It was spoken discreetly low that only he could hear it. Looking around, Larissa felt eased seeing everyone was busy conversing amongst themselves.

Alexander Vladimir was her friend, a gay guy that had this exceptionally good facial harmony even with the moustache that made Larissa want to shave it off herself. They had been friends since their own time at Nevermore, and now, here they were, still friends though Larissa doubted it wouldn’t be for long if he kept pestering her with his comments about you. (Oh yes, he knew about you.)

It all started when he caught you one afternoon creeping out in the hallway, Larissa’s lipstick smeared on your skin and hair was a little bit tousled. It wasn’t rocket science to figure that you were both fucking, he could never judge one’s happiness. He had taken so much pride knowing something else not many were privy to. It made him lose his goddamn mind and since then he never stopped harassing her with questions and teasing.

And although Larissa wasn’t ready to spill her secrets out, it oddly felt good to finally talk about you, to have someone listen to her as she gushed over and over how amazing you were as a person but of course it didn’t all happen in one seating during tea time. He coaxed her out of it and in return, he divulged his recent rendezvous with the groundskeeper. To this day, Larissa felt traumatized from all the information her friend should have kept all to himself.

“Tell me, love, have you done anal? Or sixty-nine ‘cause girl, you are fucking glowing. You aren’t keeping her hostage under your desk or tied to your bed posts, are you?”

Larissa nearly did a spit take, though she quickly recovered and schooled her expression. She did a quick sweep around before jabbing her elbow to his side earning her a yelp.

“Girl, you can deny it in ten different ways and I ain’t gonna believe you. Who cares if you do? I don’t. You can keep her all year long over or under any surface of your office and I wouldn’t dare say a thing.”

Okay, that was it. Larissa’s nostrils flared, eyeing down the man. If he could casually talk like that with all these people in the room, no doubt Larissa could casually wring his neck as well but the thought soon vanished when another teacher joined their space leaving Larissa fuming underneath a calm expression.

She put a practiced smile on her, looking sweet and all as if in her mind she wasn’t thinking about murdering her friend.

It was Mrs Bowen, the music teacher, rubbing her very swollen pregnant belly in front of Larissa. A belly that Larissa could swear wasn’t as prominent as it was now when she last saw the woman, she couldn’t even recall if she sent a congratulatory note or anything.

Subconsciously, she placed a hand flat on her stomach, mimicking the other woman.

“Mrs Bowen! It feels like I haven’t seen you in ages. How far along are you again? It looks like you’re ready to pop!” It was Vlad who broke the ice first. Larissa stayed silent, pensively rubbing her thumb on the soft spot of her belly.

“Almost eight months. I’m carrying triplets.” She made a show by pushing her belly outward.

“Damn that’s a horde! How many positions did you do with your husband to conceive not just one but three?”

The high pitch chuckle broke Larissa out of her trance, removing her hand and letting it fall on her side to appear as if she was smoothing her dress. Thankfully everyone was well occupied to notice the gesture.

“Just one. It runs in the family you know. My husband is a quadruplet.”

“Wow…okay, wow. Really wow.”

“Congratulations on the babies again, Mrs Bowen. ” Larissa said finally.

“Thank you, Principal Weems. I kinda want to ask you, well, I was gonna drop an invitation at your office but I can’t climb two flights of stairs like I used to anymore so I’m just gonna say it. It’s my baby shower this upcoming holiday break. I know it’s quite early but my husband and I decided it’s for the best.”

It was plain as day that the impromptu invitation had caught her off guard, she blinked a few times, she didn’t even realize her jaw was clenched and her brows were raised, as her breath was suspended.

She looked at Mrs Bowen’s face, then down her engorged belly, then back up to her face again. She had no qualms with the pregnant woman, hell, Mrs Bowen was the sweetest, most down to earth living person she encountered in this godforsaken town, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be in a…celebratory mood?

“That’s—” it felt like her voice was caught up in her throat “—that’s wonderful. I, um, I have to check if my schedule is clear but I’ll keep it in mind.” she said, putting a practiced smile on her face. She wanted to leave.

“Excuse me, I have to go. Have a lovely day for both of you and see you around.”

–

Larissa sat in front of her desk, the drink she had was forgotten on the table letting the condensation from the melted ice drip.

Seeing Mrs Bowen in her state made Larissa think about herself. It made her heart beat faster, the image of herself with a big protruding belly was unnerving enough as it was and it was made worse by the thought of how, just fucking how, was she going to go through all stages of pregnancy. Not that anything was confirmed yet, but she just couldn’t help herself.

And it terrified her. The future terrified her. If only she could just pull out the test kits she had hiding in her drawer and piss on it, wait for some goddamn five minutes, and be done. She would at least get a grip of what was really going on, though it felt like it wasn’t that easy.

Maybe a part of her was already hoping no matter how much she denied it while the rest was just scared of the disappointing truth but wouldn’t it be better? You were young, free spirited, you often gush about how you’d want to travel the world and explore. You had a full life right ahead of you and she was not selfish to ask anything of you but she knew you were not a terrible person, you wouldn’t just leave.

Thinking about it made me nauseous. It wasn’t supposed to get this serious. None of these were supposed to happen.

She was fucking turning forty-four in a few months, and this kind of dilema was absolutely not she was expecting at this age.

That day she decided she was too overwhelmed and unwell to properly function so she gave into her whims and she went home and spent the rest of the day in her bed wishing you were there to hold her.

–

Eventually it was the end of the week with a long weekend ahead, Professors were gathering their belongings to spend weekends with their families for those who live far away, and students were getting ready for whatever plans they had for the weekend.

She watched from the balcony how the thick crowd dispersed until few of the staff were left roaming the grounds, only then did she summon herself to collect her things, deeming herself ready to go home.

In the middle of applying a fresh coat of lipstick, she couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the silence, the hollowed feeling that lingered in her chest. She didn't know how the thought got to her but she imagined a gummy smile welcoming her home with a tiny pair of hands opening and closing, too eager to grab a fistful of her clothes. The smell of baby powder and cologne as she buries her face on the crook of a little one’s neck and then you…

She thought about you kissing her and helping take her coat off. She thought about spending her Saturdays in her backyard, lounging on a massive picnic blanket under the tree, indulging the day with books and some wine, and then you’d be both surprised because your daughter just took her first step, and her heart was clenching, a proud smile displayed on her face while you were absolutely freaking out because what if she fell flat on her face?

(Okay. Fuck. Goddamnit)

The sound of the drawer slamming closed harder than it was necessary reverberated in the room. She was hot on her heels, ushering herself into the bathroom, leaving the door open, she held two pregnancy tests with a firm grip.

With bated breath, she sat on the toilet and used the first stick.

—

When you arrived on a Saturday morning, Larissa had just come out of her bedroom. You were still in the hallway, your overnight bag hanging on your shoulder, two paper bags occupying your arms. On your way, you took it upon yourself to buy groceries not wanting Larissa to think you were freeloading off of her or abusing her kindness, plus you thought about cooking for her instead of feeding her take outs.

Your eyes lingered to the way the flimsy straps of her baby blue nightgown that hung loosely on her shoulders, it made you feel things, and when they went south noticing how it was cut mid her thighs, giving you enough skin to ogle at. You couldn’t possibly contain your hunger for her. Her skin looked supple, rosy around the cheeks and freckles around her shoulders going down the length of her arms.

Her nipples peaked from the chill of the morning, and the sunlight casted on her skin gave an ethereal kind of glow. You couldn’t ponder how this was real. How she was real.

Before taking the groceries to the kitchen, you dropped the bag in the hallway, mentally noting to pick it up for later, “I let myself in again thinking you were still probably asleep.”

You walked up to her and she met you halfway. There were bags under her eyes denoting the lack of sleep, and her eyes, they look tired and conflicted.

The groceries almost fell when she surged forward, hands cupping your face, pressing a kiss on your lips and knocking out your breath. You wanted to grab the back of her neck, pull her deeper and kiss her harder. You wanted to reciprocate her obvious longing but you couldn’t unless you wanted spilt milk and raw eggs all over the floor.

“Mhmm, later. I need to put this away first.” So with that, you reluctantly pulled away, sauntering over to the kitchen to put the bags on the counter where she followed you, not letting herself be away from you and it made your heart clench.

Larissa kept the distance between you within an arm’s length, leaning her back on the counter behind you, watching you take the fresh produce out of the bag one by one but there was a lot packed in one bag and you didn’t think you had the patience to put them away, not if she was looking at you like that, not when something felt wrong.

The eggs were the last thing you pulled out and set on the counter. When you faced her, she had her lower lip worried in between her teeth, “Baby, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

She shook her head, stepping closer. The instant you opened your arms, your bodies collided. She rested her forehead against yours, “Sorry.”

You brush a strand away from her face, letting your fingertips linger around her jawbone, “It’s okay. I missed this, too.” you told her, getting a sense that it was the reason that made Larissa emotional, and to think that missing you had this effect on her made you want to wrap her in your arms more; to never let her go.

You offered her a wink, hoping to enlighten her and kissed the tip of her nose, it usually earned you a chuckle or a kiss in response but right now, Larissa only sighed.

Your mind circled back to how you thought her eyes looked very tired, and they still were, missing its shine. You could barely see yourself reflecting in them.

“How about you steal a couple more hours of sleep, hm? As soon as I’m finished putting the groceries away, I will lie with you and then after you have your rest we’ll have breakfast. I’ll make waffles, you like that, right?”

It took her a moment to reply, her eyes watching you closely like she had many times before after sharing an intimate moment that left you both emotionally vulnerable.

“I missed you.” she said, cupping your face. The pad of her left thumb grazed the corner of your lips, stroking the skin tenderly.

“And I missed you a whole lot more. So, so much. I have been thinking about you day and night. Most of my dreams were about you which is embarrassing because even in my sleep, I was obsessed about you.” That, thankfully, made her smile even just a tiny bit, barely perceptible if you hadn’t been this close to see it.

“Do you mean it?” She asked and you gave her a reassuring nod.

“Yes, I do. Now, let’s get you in bed.”

In between the conversation, you felt yourself closer to slipping from what you really wanted to tell her, though you held back and managed. It still felt early to say it and you were afraid of how she’d react. There were too many what ifs and none of them were doing you good. So, as long as you didn’t say it, you still had a chance of still being with her and protecting both of your peace.

Looking away, to shake the thoughts off, something caught your attention interestingly enough. On the bench at the end of the bed, you recognized the neatly folded clothes. They were your pyjamas. She must have been expecting you last night, you knew she had this habit of preparing both of your clothes whenever you were staying so it wasn’t completely random to find them there.

In that moment, from where you stood, you were struck with just how much Larissa deeply cared for you. It was palpable from the things she did for you, for what she had sacrificed by far. Because you knew a woman in her twenties being seen in public with another woman twice her age would have had people to turn their heads, and it was sad because it would only take a second for them to judge you, but mostly her. In their eyes she was a predator that preyed on the young. It would do less damage on you even if you were the one who pushed yourself to be with her.

She had a reputable image that she was putting at risk for you so if that didn’t speak volume of how much she was willing to do to be with you, you would be a goddamn idiot to still think that this woman didn’t feel the same way as you do if not more.

“Darling?” Her voice reeled you back at the present moment, she was already in bed, laying on her side with her head propped on her hand.

If your heart could grow every time you think you love her, it would have been massive, uncontainable even. Yes, yes you love her.

“Just give me a second,” You shed your pants, followed by the shirt you have on, then you reached behind you to unclasped your bra which soon fell on top of the messy pile. At this point, your body was on autopilot, acting according to what felt necessary.

You needed her to know that her effort hadn’t gone to waste. You took the simple white tee from the bench, sniffing it briefly. It smelled like her. In fact, the whole room smelled just like her, and you basked in its scent, in its comfort that it gave you knowing that as long as you were in this room you were hers and she was yours, the rest of the world didn’t matter.

You joined her after, sliding into the warm soft sheets and into her awaiting arms. You throbbed to be this close to her all week long, nothing could make up for it, not the facetime calls or the voice messages, or pictures. They all did manage to fill in at least an inch of your longing but nothing could quite beat having her next to you and breathing onto her skin, feeling her pulse beneath your touch and her lips against yours.

She was the pleasure you couldn’t deny yourself from. Every single bit of you was latching like vines around her unwilling to release itself. You craved for the sweet taste of the mornings where her smile ended up on your lips, before you were lapping up the coats of her essence around your fingers and swallowing it.

The silence stretched for a while, the words you wanted to relieve your chest from stayed caged; guarded within your ribs. You wanted her so much you wanted to do this right and you would…just not right now.

Everything was in motion when you blinked, your breath coming in deep, expanding your lungs with the sickening burn. Her scent filled your brain with a high level of dopamine making you feel fuzzy all over.

“What happened to putting away the groceries first?” She asked, a mild tone of amusement apparent in her voice, shifting herself so you could lay your head on her arm.

You snuggled forward, hiding your face on the crook of her neck, “Change of plans.” You breathed out. You then sling an arm around her waist, bridging whatever gap was left until you were all flushed against her with your legs slotted in between her thighs. “Would you rather I do them now?”

“No. I want you exactly where you are right now.” And to prove her words, Larissa wrapped her other arm around you, trapping you into her hold then she hummed, threading her fingers along your hair.

You smirked against her skin, feeling the light satisfaction her answer gave. “That’s what I thought.” And for sure she must have felt it or something because she playfully pinched your arm.

Repeating the process of combing through your hair, you grew silent, your breaths were evened and relaxed, even the tension she noticed the moment she held you disappeared. For a second there she thought you had fallen asleep, which made it kind of funny because you were the one who insisted she was the one who needed some sleep, but she wasn’t going to tease you now. Perhaps, you were just as tired as her, she couldn’t ponder how you could get up at the ungodly hours of the morning and drive two hours to get here.

That was until her skin was met with the warm wet feeling of your mouth. The sensations she adored had rendered her eyes closed. “Darling,” Her hips bucked in the slightest way. It felt like encouragement on your part, as well as the way her back arched causing her breasts to thrust forward. And you couldn’t keep it in yourself anymore, you detached your mouth from her clavicle, continuing your exploration to her mouth and kissed her while you palmed her breast over the silk.

She paused in the middle of the kiss, brows knitting together. You felt her hand cupped the back of yours stilling your movement, “Be gentle,”

“But I’m being gentle?”

“Extra gentle, honey.” You nodded, leaning forward to kiss her again, and your hand resumed working on her breast, “This okay?”

It took her a minute to answer a simple “yes...” it was breathy, almost sounding unsure, but she pushed herself, nibbling on your lip before you had the chance to overthink her tone and you kissed her back with feral need.

The pleasure was slowly building instead of pain, and it went on, until eventually you were yearning to have it in your mouth. With a simple yank on the neckline of her nightgown, her breasts were freed and exposed.

The sight of her nipples hard and rosy sent blush all over your face, it was like seeing them the first time again. But what really tipped you over the edge was the way they looked fuller, more supple and round with new veins visibly showing.

Her fingers in your hair grew slack before they found purchase on your shoulder when your lips suddenly took one nipple in, and it was chased by a muffled cry.

Pushing your shoulder back, she looked down, surprised by just how sensitive and sore she was and it hadn’t been a minute since having them in your mouth.

Wide eyed, you asked, “Sorry, did I hurt you again?”

“No, they’re just quite sensitive.” she was rubbing the nipple with her thumb to alleviate the tingling.

“I’m really sorry.” The fear of hurting her again extinguished your desire, even if it was unintentional you couldn’t erase the pained expression she had.

“I told you it’s okay.”

“Maybe we should stop? Or are you hungry? I can–” Larissa grabbed your wrist before you could get out of bed.

“No, no, not hungry, though a few hours of sleep sounds appealing now.”

You returned back to your previous position, “I’m sorry to cut your fun, sweetheart.” She dropped a kiss on your forehead, her thumb rubbing your brow to soothe the frown on your face, “I’ll make it up to you later, is that alright?”

“We don’t have to do anything later if that’s what you’re hinting at. I’m content to just lay here with you and spend the rest of the day rotting in this bed.”

“Oh, is that right?” Larissa chuckled at your choice of words, pressing a kiss onto your hairline.

“Ahuh, I’m okay. Now, will you turn your back on me please, and let me spoon you?” your voice was muffled by the soft skin of her chest when you murmured.

“Did I hear you right? My baby wants to spoon me?”

My baby. Your chest tightened at that. “Please?”

You both exchanged a look with smiles invading both your lips. Without another word Larissa turned her back on you and you gladly offered your arm for her to rest her head, while the other hugged her waist from behind.

Quickly, you were both engulfed by the blissful comfort of silence, hushing the pestering thoughts that loomed. It settled your heart at the right pace. You ever wondered if it ever felt the same way for her.

And as if she could read your mind, she held your hand and brought it to her chest letting you feel her heart thudding softly on your palm. You took that as the answer and smiled.

“Good night, my love.” You nuzzled your nose on the side of her neck like a cat, smelling traces of her body wash and perfume, some of her shampoo as well. Your brain was so fuzzy it didn’t question the last two words.

Meanwhile, Larissa’s heart leapt to her throat.

–

The last time Larissa had locked herself in her office’s private restroom, pacing back and forth with her head pulsing, was outreach day. She was barefooted, she had an unlit cigarette in between her fingers thumbing the filter, too tempted to lit the stick.

And yesterday, she found herself in the same situation. She paced along the black and white tiles with her arms hugging her middle. She had an impending headache so she stopped and pressed her back against the wall. She closed her eyes for a minute, feeling the coolness seeping to her back. She would probably regret this right after but she was far too emotionally stressed to care. She then dramatically slid down until she was sitting, the length of her legs stretched out, one ankle over the other.

The beating of her heart was too damn fast, her tears welling up the corners of her eyes until her vision was a blur and it all came leaking down her face.

On the counter, near the sink, two white test kits laid parallel to one another showing identical results.

Larissa laughed when she picked it up again, staring at the two visible pink lines.

#larissa weems x reader #gwendoline christie imagines #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems #principal larissa weems #larissa weems smut #gwendoline christie #larissa x reader #billiedeansbitch #some g!p action

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soamericn · 3 months

Text

𝜗𝜚 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐄

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ truth, dare, spin bottles you know how to ball, i know aristotle. ‘

𝜗𝜚… previous chapter - next chapter

𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!verstappen!y/n x lando norris ) y/n is the younger sister of world champion max verstappen and an author known for her young adult romance novels despite never being in a relationship herself. lando norris is a formula one driver and is secretly an old friend and a fan of her books since 2020.

𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , brooke flecca

𝜗𝜚… triggers , none I don't think

𝜗𝜚… authors note , OKAY OKAY SO EXPLANATION AND APOLOGY TIME. it has been SO long since chapter 2 and im so sorry school got so much and I couldn't do it but im back and its summer and expect chapters and new fics more regularly!!!

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist

𝜗𝜚 ˖ ࣪₊˚ post austrian grand prix interview - lando norris

𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ yourusername posted

liked by charlottessine, alexalbon, laurenasherauthor and 987,764 others

yourusername miami next!! p1 lando 🤨

view comments

user54 y/n supporting lando instead of her actual brother well never not be funny 😭🙏

user32 she’s one of us 🙌

maxverstappen but guess who’s still winning

bsfusername ugh marry me 😫

yourusername i thought we already were??

mclaren bestseller AND our lucky charm what else can she do?

yourusername I cry over taylor swift occasionally 😁

user87 how you have never had a boyfriend is the biggest mystery of the world 🤯

user23 NO ACTUALLY SHES GLOWING

landonorris my cheerleader 🫶

yourusername i thought you were mine? 🤭

maxverstappen you guys make me SICK

redbull and you’ll be in our garage in miami right..? RIGHT?!

𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ text messages with lando 🫶

the tv projected the track flashing between cameras, she picked at her nail beds, turning them into a nice shade of red. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as if she was scared it would run away.

the last name norris shined at the top of the leaderboard as the laps went catching up to fifty-seven. he was gonna do it, her boy was gonna it. nobody was sure if it was the gap between max and him or the miami humidity making everyone sweat.

she’d done a silent prayer in her head, she needed this for him. he deserved it more than anyone else. the papaya livery passed the line once again, the red bull following soon after. The gap was closing, now 6.3 seconds, the time imprinted in her mind. the visual on him up top was tattooed into her memories.

fifty-five lap.

he was doing what nobody thought he could, and she was there to see it. she wished she could see his face through the helmet, what would he look like? would he have that big grin on his face that brightened a room, a smirk that was filled with confidence she only dreamed of having or was he so focused that he stared blankly his sight only the black track

he was on a mission.

one he’d been wanting to complete the last five years.

fifty-six lap.

she was embraced with a realization, a realization that her daydream was playing out right in front of her. no words nor thoughts could express how proud she already was of him. there was no doubt in her eyes he’d get here at some point.

she held her hands over her mouth in an anxious prayer position. she hadn’t noticed the camera panning to her, her eyes glued onto the tv. a small text flashed onto an orange background y/n l/n, author. it had missed some three words after author and she hated how much she wanted that.

fifty-seven lap.

the lap that seemed to last a lifetime.

each turn felt hours long, though she knew deep down that the gap couldn't be closed in one lap. her boy had finally done it, and max couldn’t take it from him. despite this, worry built in her throat, scared that the thirty-three redbull would miraculously close the gap out of nowhere, stealing the one thing he had ever wanted.

the chequered flag waved, everyone rose from their seats, anticipating the long-awaited moment. familiar livery passes over the finish line and lando norris has won the miami grand prix.

she screamed and cheered hugging the nearest engineer to her, breathing heavily as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened. the garage rushed the barriers waiting for their golden boy to jump out of his car. she wasn’t as close to the front as she had hoped, being squished by many papaya uniforms. She watched as he sprinted to them, to her, jumping into the crowd bearing the same colors on his race suit, hoisted onto the shoulders of his team.

she looked at him and saw the biggest smile she had ever seen break out on his face, matching her own. as soon as he was let down, they locked eyes, and it looked like he was about to cry. she closed the space between them, wrapping him in a hug.

she stood on her tippy toes, wrapping her arms around his neck, his slung comfortably around her waist squeezing her as if he was scared she’d disappear. “I knew you could do it,” she whispered in his ear, her simple words only meant for him to hear.

a small “thank you” was all that was said in response.

before he pulled away, she placed a delicate kiss on his cheek, the pink gloss that coated her lips staining his face unable to be wiped away before he made his way to the cooldown room. she held her hands in front of her chest finally letting herself breath, a soft smile tattooed on her face as she watched him go.

never in her life would she declare herself a religious individual–she’d never set a foot in a church before–but for the first time she felt as if her prayers were answered.

she stayed still for a moment, watching as people rushed to get the best view, staring at the podium; the top step that would soon have landos name written all over it. she wanted to cherish this. she wanted to soak it up and let it stick to her memory like honey.

a posh british accent startled her out of her thoughts, “you should probably start walking over to the podium if you wanna see him properly.” she looked behind her and then looked up, it was george. his sharp features were unmistakable, no description strong enough to truly convey his presence.

“yeah, you’re right.” she said, oddly nervous. she had talked to george plenty of times in the past, and she’d even dared to call them friends, maybe it was the adrenaline finally washing over her, or the fear that anything could push her out of this dream and she’d wake up in her floral sheets, alone.

he followed behind her as they made their way through the crowd, pushing people before they made it to the front looking up at the podium through the many fences. she pushed her dress down as the wind blew through the humid air, what felt like hours passing before charles took his spot on the third step.

the cheers for him were loud but faded quickly, they all knew who they were there to see waiting for him to take his spot on the top step, where he always belonged.

she hoped that once he stepped up it would feel like a place he didn’t even know he was homesick for. she wanted to feel as if he belonged there, because she knew he did.

she watched as max stepped up through her tear-blurred vision. she didn’t like how much this meant to her. it was like she’d won, instead of lando. she hated how attached she had gotten, she hated the idea he didn’t feel the same.

the mclaren driver walked up with the confidence of a man who had done this all before, but with the shock of achieving his childhood dream, it was hard not to be emotional.

lando walked up, clad in his orange suit, with curls she wished to run her hands through, pink kiss mark still on his cheek. she’d stained him as he had stained her body, mind, and soul.

the british national anthem had begun to ring, familiar in her ears, though she was only looking at him as he’d looked up to the sky. his face glistened in the sun, his eyes shut and at peace.

it wasn’t until the trophies were being handed out that she had let the tears fall. they streamed down her rosy cheeks like rain droplets on a rose petal.

he’d held the trophy in front of him in disbelief taking a deep breath, though she was the only one to notice the clear rise and fall of his chest. max was the first one to pop his champagne, immediately attacking lando with the bubbly liquid. lando smacked his bottle onto the ground with his iconic pop, a geyser of alcohol spurting up into the air.

a few moments after the podium sitters all attempted to spray one another, a now-drenched lando took a sip from the bottle before setting it down, finding her eyes in a sea of thousands.

they always seemed to find each other, especially when she figured he’d be too preoccupied to look for someone as little as her. she didn’t realize how much she mattered to him. her lips turning upward into a small soft smile reserved for him.

he walked off the podium and she assumed he needed to do his post-race interviews, leaving her wondering what words he’d used to describe his joy.

Instead of leaving for the media pen he made his way to the crowd, heading directly for her, he had some interruptions from fans and drivers alike, but he continued towards her.

“are you okay?” the concern in her voice was evident, she was his rock, his stability, the thing that held everything together when things got crazy. despite her having nothing together herself.

his calloused, rough-to-the-touch fingers contrasting her own as he held her lightly, like he was afraid she’d break under his touch.

“can we get away from all this?” he asked, it was unlike him, he loved the crowds and he loved the excitement they brought to the paddock but here he was softly holding her hand asking to be alone with her. it warmed her heart at the thought. the thought he wanted to spend a minute of his celebration with her.

they’d walked beside one another through the crowd making their way through. they ended up back in the mclaren garage in his driver's room. she’d been there before a couple times, mainly to play mario party despite her disdain for the game (mostly because she wasn't very good at it). this time, though, it felt more intimate. more meaningful.

“lando, are you alright?” she asked once more, her confusion and worry only growing, this was so unlike him pulling them away from a crowd, staying as silent as he was. his excitement from the win and meeting one of his many goals was still evident on his face but from the rocking on his feet and the biting of the inside of his cheek, she could tell he was nervous.

they’d been quite close, and despite once making fun of lando for his height or lack thereof, she was now looking up at him, something he never let her forget.

he nodded, though he still was chewing on the inside of his cheek. “are you sure? you're not being yourself.” the tension in the room built as the silence between them grew, air heavy with unresolved feelings and questions of ‘what are we?’.

“I can't take it anymore.” was all lando said before he kissed her. one second his rough hand was caressing her cheek, and the next his lips were on hers. she’d gasped softly, before relaxing into it. this was the last thing she expected from him. they’d always been close, and even after all these years of not seeing one another, they had come back like nothing had changed.

she was still his good luck charm.

they melded together like pieces of a puzzle, moving in-sync. her arms around his neck, his hand on her cheek, his other arm still holding her gently by the waist. he smelt heavily of champagne, tyre rubber, and gasoline. and thought it wasn't the most appealing smell, it was so him and she couldn’t get enough of it.

it hadn’t been her first kiss, but it might’ve been the only one that ever mattered. she wrote in kiss scenes over and over again, never finding the right words when it came time to type them out on the page. thinking back, none of them could have ever compared to the shock and contentness she was feeling.

they pulled away from each other, his lips shining with remnants of her lip gloss, he let both hands rest on her waist, holding her close. he sported a grin on his face, “guess i’m going through my goal to-do list today.”

“ i was on your to-do list?” she asked, tilting her head with a furrowed brow. he began to giggle at the implication of the sentence, her mouth slightly agape as she realized what she had said as well. “you’re a child.” her exasperation was clear as day, though it didn’t stopped him from laughing..

They stilled for a moment before bursting into laughter, both elated with the outcome of the day “yes, you’re on my to-do list.”

she lightly shoved him, though she remained in his arms, not wanting to move, afraid if she did she’d never be able to go back. “shut up.” she responded playfully resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes as she let out a soft laugh of joy, finally where she wanted to be.

𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @c-losur3 @lclitaa @forurforeverwinter @stinkyjax @littlexscarletxwitch @spideybv28 @ijustgomessitupx @sweetrclief @aadu2173 @chezmardybum

#𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ soamericns works!#formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #lando norris #formula one #formula one fic #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #lando norris x reader #smau #mclaren #ln4 x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic writing

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justaaveragereader · 8 months

Note

hi omfg i LOVE your work so much???????????? i wanna request a dommingi (mingi acts nice in front of everyone ykwim but is a complete devil with the reader) where he’s at an award show and he brings the reader along, but reader is laughing a little too hard with his friends, mingi shows her who she belongs to. throw in a little pocket knife action too (not so little action pls make sure he seems crazy like he threatens to kill her if she tries to fuck with his friends again)

can u tell i have issues

thx again :p

First of all lemme go cry in the corner before I greet you😭🖤, hello, hey, hiiiii🖤🖤! I’m so happy you love my work ahhhh😭!!! Thank you for reading and enjoying it! Listen…if you got issues that means I got stemming trauma bc the way I was absolutely in LOVEEEEE with this request, I made Mingi more deranged/yandere then I probably should have but I can’t help it😵‍💫I got so carried away🫠none I love more when writers write the members almost psychotic /deranged, almost like true villains …I hope you enjoy this one babes🖤!

—•—•——•—•——•—•——•—•——•—•——•—•—

I Own You

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Dom!Mingi, Yandere!Mingi, Sub!Reader, Name Calling, Degrading, Knife Play, Slight Skin Cutting (Nicking The Skin, Slight Paper Cut Type Cut, No Blood), Begging, Slight Primal Play, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Choking…If I Missed Anything👀👀..Lemme Know!

✍️Masterlist✍️

Swirling his drink around the ice clinked against the cool glass. His eyes never leave your laughing figure. Clutching your chest, eyes crinkling with each hardy laugh that leaves your mouth. He's known all the members for a couple years, never have they been this funny. This was the con to being an idol, you guys decided to not go public for the safety of yourself. Mingi could care less about his role as being an idol, yet you insisted on not going public nor wanting to shake the public eye, and possibly ruin the group. Yet the way you were laughing with the boys it couldn’t help but make his heart clench, were they the reason why you didn’t want to go public? Yes the boys knew you were an item, but to the public you looked like really good friends…well at least you did. Mingi looked like a love sick maniac.

His eyes cut sharper at you and the seven boys, shooting his drink down, the brown liquor giving him courage. Peeling himself off the bar counter top he makes his way towards you and the members. His long stride, the way his shoes click against the floor, he was on a mission. Your eyes flutter from laughing, you can make out almost every sound that’s happening in the room. Yet there is one sound in particular that catches your ears. The high pitch clicks of Mingis shoes. He makes his way towards the members and you, only to shoot you that fake smile he does, the cool air from him passing by breezes by you and the members. It feels like the world stills anytime he passes by, the draft leaves the lingering smell of his cologne. Your body riddles with goosebumps. You watch as his broad back makes it farther and farther away.

Stretching your neck to see where he’s going, the boys seem to be background noise at this rate. Almost like static, Mingi had you hooked on him like a drug. You were like a moth to the flame, the persona he puts on even for the members has everyone fooled. It even fooled you, which is how you fell into his trap. They say the devil was once the most beautifulest angel, and Mingis beauty did nothing but blind you.

Your body moves on auto pilot, not even bothering to tell the boys that you were going to go find Mingi. Your body just sways to where you can smell the faint scent of him. Bringing you into a dark hall, the air is so still it almost feels unreal. Your body litters with nerves, rubbing your upper arm, you whisper out Mingis name, sounding like a true stray sheep, calling for its shepherd. He can see you from a dimly lit hallway, you look lost, you look astray. You look tempting, yet while his cock hardens with want, his blood pressure rises because you were also the same person laughing way too hard at his members.

“You lost?” His raspy voice speaks up, echoing down the long and poorly light hallway. Your body does such a noticeable jump, he can’t help but smile, while his cock twitches slightly at the sight. Your head turns from side to side trying to figure out where his voice came from. You can hear the vibrations of his deep tone still ringing in your ears. Letting out a small whimper you call out for Mingi once more.

He starts laughing slowly, the sound just bouncing around the walls of the bare space. You look straight ahead, catching a glimpse of his teeth, his smile so big and teeth so bright, with the way the lights are dim he looks like a threat, almost like this isn’t the Mingi you know.

“Come over here.”

Thoughtlessly following his command, your legs move on autopilot. Your brain already feels like mush, his voice bouncing around in your ears, mixing with the scent of him. He’s addicting. He's propped up against a wall, looking down at you, while your eyes stare up at him like he’s got every answer in the world for you. His cool hand comes to brush your cheek bone, coming down to brush against your bottom lip, pulling it down with his thumb before his hand travels down to your throat, yanking your body closer to his, he’s got you almost completely off of the floor, your noses are brushing. You let out a small squeak at the sudden intrusion. His large hand is crushing your windpipe, even though you can barely make out his features you know there is a fire brewing behind his eyes.

“They must’ve been real fucking comedians to make you laugh as much as you did tonight.” He grits out, while he wasn’t physically spitting on you, it felt like he was spitting heat onto your skin. Letting out a choked out noise, he feels his cock twitch, trying his best not to let his eyes roll back with pleasure at the way your poor helpless face contorts in front of him. Your hand comes up to try and pry him off, yet he squeezes tighter. Tears streaming down your face, your nails dig into him.

Letting you go, your body slumps to the floor, your knees hitting the ground first, your hands grip the material of his pants. Your hand lightly brushes over his hard on. You are in a kneeling position, tears stream down your face. You plead with Mingi through choked sobs..

“Min-Mingi it wasn’t like th-that I sw-swear.” Throat raw with emotion and lack of oxygen from him choking you. There you went, his little helpless sheep. Letting out a tsk, Mingi, brushes his thumb across the top of your forehead.

“I treat you well don’t I? And this is how you treat me…”

The disappointment in his voice wraps around your heart and tugs on the strings of it. Your face deepening in a frown, the tears that were wetting his pants were no longer from the pain of him choking you, it was from the pain you caused him, the disappointment that you shed upon him. Your hands grip his pants in desperation. When you feel something cool brush against the temple of your head, your eyes slowly trailing up his chest. The cool steel is settled right against your temple, not daring to make a move. His mouth widens into that horrific smile. The smile that captures people, that smile that lures people in.

“Do I have to drill into your skull who you belong to? Who owns you?” He says, voice sweet as sugar. Your eyes widen even further, your cunt slickens, you're so far gone on this man you can’t help but contort yourself into what he wants. Your eyes shine, mouth opening and closing no sound coming out but a helpless whimper. The sound of that is enough to make his head roll back, palming your head with his other hand, shoving your face against his twitching cock, the small wet stain of pre cum mixing with your tears brushes against your face.

You nuzzle your face against him, making his cock twitch even harder at the new feeling. His mouth drops open, a quiet groan leaving him. The blade of the knife falters slightly, bringing him back to reality, gripping you by your elbow he snatches you up to your feet.

Turning you around quickly he shoves you chest first against the wall, bunching your dress up against your hips, undoing his belt, he shimmies his pants down on his thigh, thick cock springing free, just oozing with pre cum. The cool air on his cock makes him shiver. You let out a soft moan at him manhandling you, your mind clouded with love, while Mingis mind is clouded with lust.

The blade is on the front of your throat, while his other is on your shoulder, thumb brushing against your pulse, he can feel the quick pulsation pump through his thumb. He sticks his cock between your thighs, brushing against your clothed cunt.

“I’m going to use you how I see fit, do you understand me?” He whispers in your ears, his warm breath tickling your ear, the pulsation from his cock on your count has you whimpering, nodding your head you let out a deep breath trying to gather yourself.

The blade bites into your skin, making your body tense up. You choke out a small yes to him, which immediately follows him thrust his hips slowly, cock slickening from how wet you are getting with each second, one particular thrust makes you whimper loudly.

“Who was the funniest between them?”

Biting your lip, trying your best to keep quiet, your mind can’t even fully comprehend what he’s saying. Stopping his sudden thrusts he pulls back slightly, causing you out a small cry when you feel the cool air hit your sticky cunt, strings of arousal cling to the fabric as he hikes it down to your knees, sticking his cock back in between your thighs he gathers as much slick as he can before he starts to thrust between the lips of your cunt, before slamming his cock into your pussy.

“Don’t make me ask again.” He grits out, moving the blade, the cool steel sitting alongside the vein that runs in the side of your neck.

“None of them were as funny as you Min-Oh my god!” You yell out, hands trying to find the closest thing to grip, his hand grips the blade tighter, making it bite your skin, right on the verge of slicing it.

The sudden slamming of his hips, hike you up and down the wall, cries leave your throat, as the biting of the blade continues to rub against your skin, your cunt gets wetter and wetter by the second. The empty hallway fills with your moans, and the sound of wet skin on wet skin.

“Next time if you even think of cracking a smile at them, I’ll kill you.” He grits, toes clenching in his shoes, you’ve never been this wet before, it’s soaking his pants. Maybe you were just as deranged as he was.

“Or maybe I’ll kill them.” He whispers into your ear, his harsh thrusts making your brain mush, you can feel him brush over your cervix, the squelching noise from your cunt overrides every sound in the hallway, even your pathetic moans. His other hand comes down to your hip. Bringing you down on his cock when he thrusts back, aiding in the powerful strokes he’s delivering to you.

Moving the knife from your vein he holds it to the front of your throat, right above where an adam's apple would lie. The sharp end of the blade pokes your chin, making you moan loudly, with each powerful stroke he gives you, your chin brushes down lightly against the tip of the blade, scratching your skin. With one false move it could easily impale you.

“You hear your pussy talking to me?” He says through clenched teeth, the way your cunt is soaking him, so sloppily he’s so close to the edge.

“She’s telling me she’s sorry, she’s sucking me back in, it’s almost like she knows the boys can’t fuck you like I can, they can’t pleasure you like I do. They could never do half the shit I do.”

His words are like velvet in your ears, the degrading, dirty words flutter in your head like tiny butterflies. Loud whimpers are falling out of your mouth, you attempt to bring your hand up to your mouth trying your best to quiet down when Mingi digs the blade into your neck even harder, you are sure the blade has nicked your skin slightly. Causing you to let out a loud cry, your head knocks against the wall in front of you, crying out Mingis name like it’s a mantra while your orgasm crashes over you.

“Yeaaa, yeaaa that’s it momma, cum on my cock.” He gasps out, tossing his head back, hips speeding up, the tip of his cock crushing against your cervix, walls squeezing him tightly. Milking him for every last drop of cum. His hips jerk slightly trying to help you ride out your own orgasm, as he’s trying to ride out his own.

His body falls forward slightly crushing you against the wall, cock still buried deep into your cunt, knife still present against your throat. The tip of the cool blade is digging fully into your chin. His hot breath pants against your ear, you can feel his heart thump hard against your back. He nudges the blade against your chin, making it dig into your skin further, your head tilts up slightly, eyes looking to the side, catching his wicked smile.

“Remember who you belong to, because next time I won’t remind you. I’ll just show you.”

DO NOT REPOST.

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