#and you can research a book and it’s warnings more easily now

[humanpurposes]

Hi hiiii I couldn’t resist to not slide into your inbox and request a Christmas fic based on this prompt with a Aemond who isn’t used to his girl’s flirty behavior and gets flustered soo easily👀 you can totally ignore this if you don’t like it<3333

“Since I can’t ride in Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?” “Sorry, what?”

HI RUE ✨ Kinda put my own spin on this but I'm sure you'll love it <3

Can I Ride You Instead?

modern!Aemond x reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, Aemond being a workaholic while his girl has needs

A/n: It's tiiiiime, happy 1st December!!

Main Masterlist // Christmas Masterlist

One more night in King’s Landing. You look out from the window at the lights in the city; street lamps; lively pubs; offices that have been abandoned until new year; and all the festive lights lining the highstreets. Conquest Street is your favourite place to be this time of year. You love the displays in the shop windows, the market in the square, the little wooden huts selling scarves and handmade jewellery, the smell of mulled wine, sugar and cinnamon, almost tangible in your nose and on your tongue. What you wouldn’t give to be there right now.

Aemond’s apartment is bleak by comparison. He doesn’t see the point in decorations, not when he’ll be spending Christmas at his family’s estate– at Dragonstone, Christmas is Alicent’s territory. Aemond’s place is clean, lit by lowlights with no bursts of colour or fairy lights and no tree.

He’s sitting at the dining table. The cold glare of his laptop shines over his face and reflects in the lenses of his glasses.

This boy never takes a break.

Term technically doesn’t end until tomorrow but everyone you know has already gone home to make the most of the break. Not Aemond. He wants to stay for as long as possible. He doesn’t talk about his family much, but you can put pieces together. You booked your own train ticket home according to his because you could think of nothing worse than leaving him alone on the run up to Christmas.

“Sit down, you’re making me anxious,” Aemond says, not looking up from the screen.

He’s been on the verge of irritation all day. You’re in the kitchen trying to make hot chocolate? Too much noise, he says. You’re at the dining table wrapping presents for your parents? Too distracting.

You take slow steps across the floor, behind his chair, draping yourself over his shoulders. He’s working on some project for an internship and simultaneously trying to get ahead on the research for his dissertation.

You love how he looks when he’s focused, the frown that means he’s utterly absorbed in what he’s doing. It’s not quite so endearing when he could be focusing on you instead.

Your arms wrap around him. He pushes his glasses up and puts a hand over yours, a featherlight touch. You want more.

“It’s getting late you say,” letting your lips ghost over his temple.

“It’s not even six.”

“You should take a break. We could order food?”

“Yeah, when I’m done with this, I just need to–”

“Aemond.”

Your arms fall away from him and he looks up at you with a slow breath. His expression is soft, his eyes slightly hooded, his lips fallen. He knows he's upset you.

“Aemond, it’s our last night together before Christmas.”

He shuts the lid of his laptop and leaves his glasses on the table. As much as you love how he looks with them on, there’s something about the unobstructed view of his face that never fails to take your breath away. Especially his eyes, one blue, one glass and made to imitate a sapphire, framed in a neat scar running down the left side of his face, an injustice of childhood.

He leans forward, snaking his hands to your waist, pulling you in towards him. 

It’s an unfair move really. Suddenly all you want to do is run your fingers through his silver hair, tilt his chin up, hold his face in your hands.

“You’re right, darling,” he says, stroking his thumbs in circles where they fall against your belly. You feel the pressure of it through the knit jumper you wear. “Let’s go out. Pub? Restaurant? What’s the market thing on Conquest Street, didn’t you mention that a while ago?”

“It’s a bit late to go out now, I’d have to get ready.”

“We’ll stay in and watch a Christmas movie then, yeah?”

“I didn’t think you’d be in the mood for something festive.”

He makes a quick face. Not that long ago you’d tried to get him to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol, and he was far from impressed. What horrors will you have in store for him next? “Whatever you want. I want whatever you want.”

You coax him to the sofa, big and plush and expensive. Aemond throws a blanket over the two of you and with a few taps of his phone arranges the food. Without much deliberation you put on Love Actually, meeting Aemond’s eye with a wide grin.

He hides his face in his hands but survives the ordeal.

By the time the credits are rolling it’s not particularly late, but you’re dreading the morning. You’ll have to wake up early, pack a bag, then you and Aemond will go to the train station together and go your separate ways until the new year. A whole two weeks apart.

You cozy up to him, breathe in the smell of his aftershave.

“What now, another film?” He asks, trying to find the remote.

Another idea pops into your head. “We could do something else?”

Aemond catches your eye, trying not to smile. “Now let me think, what else could we possibly do, hmm?” He’s awful at playing coy and has been since the moment you met him. He’s too observant, too intent on the details to play dumb.

“Well,” you say, tracing fingertips along the material of his sweats, over his thigh, “since it is the season, and I can’t ride Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?”

His mouth bursts into a messy smile. “Sorry, what?”

You mean to huff out of annoyance but it comes out like a laugh. “I’m trying to be cute!”

Aemond takes your chin in his fingers and your body freezes. “You really don’t need to try,” he says, and leans in to capture your lips with his.

The way Aemond kisses makes you melt every time. He’s slow and commanding, like he’s savouring every precious moment. His hands slide underneath your jumper, dragging along your skin to hold your waist. The promise of what will come next puts you on edge.

Sparse gasps for breath hum in the back of your throat. Aemond smiles against your lips and holds you tighter, dragging you to straddle his lap. He pulls away from your mouth, to your frustration, and places a wide palm at your navel, the waist of your jeans. “Stand up, need to get these off.”

You move off him and go to undo the top button, but Aemond grabs your wrists and pulls you closer. You watch as he smiles slightly, his fingers moving to undo the button and the zip. He’s teasing you, drawing out the anticipation as much as he can. 

You sigh in relief once they’re off, dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside and coming back to straddle Aemond. 

His hands settle at your thighs. “Look at you, so eager, hmm?”

“You can’t blame me, you’ve been ignoring me all day,” you say, grinding your clothed core against the bulge in his sweats. You can be teasing too, with drawn out movements of your hips.

Aemond’s jaw tightens. You can see he’s trying to stay smug. “Well, we’re fixing that now.”

You press a kiss to his cheek while your fingertips curl at the top of his sweats, dragging them down enough to free his cock. He’s taught you what he likes and if you were feeling patient you might have come to your knees before him, but at the slightest touch of Aemond’s fingertips against the fabric over your clit, you know what you need.

He pulls your panties to the side, dragging you along his leaking cock with a hand at your lower back. He’s hard and you’re achingly wet. He holds you where he wants you, lining himself up to pull you down onto his length. The stretch is sharp and sweet, hollowing you out and filling you perfectly. 

Aemond’s head falls against the back of the sofa as you sink down.

“Does it feel good?” you tease him.

He’s breathless, helplessly watching the space where your bodies meet. “Fuck, perfect little pussy– feels so good,”

You cradle your arms around his head as you ride him, unhurried, hands restless as you feel his hair and the sides of his face, along his jaw.

Aemond hardly has to do anything, as soon as his fingertips are on your clit you feel your spine straighten and something inside you tighten. He circles over you lazily, watching your face with a soft, admiring kind of amusement. 

“Right there,” you whisper, “don’t fucking stop.”

“Are you gonna come for me, darling?”

Your thighs are burning at the effort but you don’t care. You’re so close, so close.

“Beg me,” Aemond murmurs.

A slew of slurred and breathless pleas fall from your lips. You can feel the slickness between your legs, how easily he glides over you, how deep his cock reaches inside of you, pushing against the right spot.

Aemond hums as he grabs your hips with his free hand, fucking you faster and harder until you’re falling apart, convulsing, melting. 

You fall against Aemond, holding each other closer as you wait for the deliriousness to fade away. Suddenly the air is unbearably cold. You cling to Aemond, to his warmth, content in his arms.

“Happy with your ride?” Aemond asks. You can hear him grinning.

You lift your head and rest it against his shoulder. The light of the TV catches in his features, his jaw, his cheeks, his nose, the details of grey in his right eye and the unnatural bright blue of his left.

“Can I go again?”

Aemond leans into you, pressing his nose against yours. “You can ride me as many times as you want, darling.”

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[hotchfiles]

↪ QUIS UT DEUS? ─ chapter one.

AN IN NOMINE PATRIS, ET FILII, ET SPIRITUS SANCTI INSTALLMENT

pairing: hotch x fem!consultant!reader. summary: murders committed using catholic symbology gets emily to convince hotch it's time to ask for an expert. luckily for you, you're the expert. content warnings: canon typical violence. religious themes. spoilers to season 4. mature themes. word count: 1.5K

    In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti…

    “Amen.” If you weren’t paying attention and side eyeing him at that exact moment, you might’ve lost the way his lips moved following the ritual, no word actually leaving his mouth. 

    The black haired man didn’t look too comfortable, but didn’t look out of place either, he knew the cues, he spoke the words on automatic it seemed. It amused you to observe people’s behavior on holy grounds, that was part of the reason you asked to meet in silver spring.

    “Catholic, Mr. Hotchner?” Your question is met with a low scoff, the type only those with a bad bad history with the church gave you. “That much, huh?”

    “My parents were.” The answer is simple and you think it might stop at that, but he shakes his head and scoffs again. “I was an altar boy for years before I left for boarding school.” You nod. 

    “Ah. I've met some of you in my research.” Some of you. Church babies, altar boys. Spoon fed the bible from birth while watching everyone around sin. Sin becoming a term to reflect on what they hated. 

    “And you? Catholic?” 

    “Oh no. Never been.” You don’t explain much, aware Emily probably told him of your time in Rome, where the two of you met. “Your UnSub is though. Either devoted to Saint Michael or knows enough about his roles to look like one.” You note, being reminded of the pictures Emily sent you, big stab wounds, a small scale tipped to one side, the words Hebrews 9:22 written in blood. 

    Hotchner doesn’t reply, making a mental reminder of the new information, he looks around the place as you both leave the church and it hits him, Silver Spring’s St. Michael the Archangel parish, the church you chose as a meeting place. 

    He wouldn’t usually accept consultation for cases, especially from outsiders. And to be fair, the BAU doesn’t usually need any, Reid alone has more knowledge than anyone Hotch has ever met, and despite the humbleness he tends to show, Hotch himself can take care of the general book knowledge if Reid doesn’t step up to it. But he trusted Emily, and Emily spoke more highly of you than of anyone. Honestly, he was also trying to make amends after not having her back during the Matthew case they had not long before. 

    “She's in town giving lectures, it’s an asset we have easy access to, so why not use it?” Were her final and most convincing words before Hotch nodded in agreement, watching Emily make the call that led to the meeting. 

    He thinks now, as he’s driving both of you to Quantico, that maybe Emily should’ve been the one here, his attempts to strike conversation falling flat as you don’t even remember the last time you had to make small talk with someone, it felt awkward all of a sudden, as if you were on a date. 

    “I'm so sorry, I'm not too good with… People.” You blurt out after a long minute of silence, your neck suddenly warm from embarrassment. 

    Hotch side eyes you, brows lifted in confusion. You seemed much less confident in the car now than what you showed him of you minutes before back at the church. He figures you felt confident talking about your area of expertise and that he could relate to easily. “Did you notice anything else by the pictures Emily sent you?” 

    The switch of topic makes you sigh loudly in relief and you mentally thank him for brushing your silliness off. “He’s using different pieces of catholic dogma and putting it together, but most of the symbology eludes to Michael, the stabbing looks like a sword, the tipped scale indicates judgment, the verse he chose doesn’t cite Michael but talks about sins being forgiven by the shedding of blood… He’s the judge and executioner of his victims.” You try not to sound excited as you ramble on, it’s a terrible thing to witness, the pictures were grotesque and would’ve made you sick on a normal day, but the cherry picking of symbols the murderer seemed to make fascinated you. 

    “So you believe it’s a man?” 

    “Oh! I–I don’t know? I just assumed… Is that misogynistic?” You mumble the last part more to yourself, but it’s loud enough to make him chuckle and you look at him quickly to make sure it’s not mean spirited. 

    It’s definitely not. But it is amusing from a profiler perspective, he’s so used to defining serials’ genders by their crimes he hasn’t thought about misogyny being a factor to those assumptions in a long time. 

    “Brutality suggests male. But posing looks remorseful, theatrical…” His grip on the wheel tightens, two victims by now, feet crossed, arms wide open. 

    “If there were more allusions to the crucifixion, yeah, but I–” You take your phone out to look at the pictures once more, an attempt to seem less abstract in what you’re about to say. “No crown, no nails, this isn’t about Christ, it’s about punishment–I mean, I think.” You’re not usually self conscious about your knowledge but inferring characteristics and desires to someone by looking at a crime scene was not your specialty. 

    “To further point they were judged and executed…” Hotch nods, understanding where your line of thought is going and completing it immediately, not leaving you much time to doubt yourself. 

    “A very shameful execution.” 

    You both spend the short ride from Silver Springs to Quantico going over the symbology present, you tried to help here and there with the associations of what you saw to who could’ve done it, even though that was not what you were called in for. Strangely enough—for him at least, Hotch didn’t seem to mind your guesses, they were educated ones.

    And it was interesting to hear someone speak with such passion about religious aspects without any of the fundamentalism. It was definitely something he wasn’t used to.

    “Mi amore!” Are the first words you hear as you enter the famous bullpen from Emily’s texts, her arms surrounding you in a tight warm hug you haven’t felt in years—it hits you then how long has it been. You weren’t able to come and mourn Matthew with her, his parents weren’t fond of you either (Lord almighty, you didn’t even go to church with them!) and you were busy with your lectures.

    “Hey troublemaker, how’s it going?” Your question is muffled in the hug, your hands clasping together behind her back.

    The reunion doesn’t last long, curious eyes set on you two and a rather impatient Hotch leading the way to what you learned was the conference room.

    The briefing room. The round table. Emily told you about it when she first got into the BAU.

    You end up sitting between Emily and who you would bet was Spencer—there’s this sweet kid working with us, he’s super smart, annoyingly smart, but so sweet, he reminds of Matty when we were teens—the lanky boy was the only one with what seemed like naivety enough in his eyes to be the one Emily mentioned back then. 

    Aaron sat in front of you almost, serious, stern, very different from the few chuckles you got from him in the car. This was unit chief Hotchner, the subtle difference was fascinating.

    “Alright, as we know, DC is in trouble, second murder in three weeks.” blonde and gorgeous, you believed that was JJ, there had been no time for introductions, all you could do was try to remember the e-mails and few phone calls you shared with Emily the past years. “Richard Beckett, married, no kids, 27. He works for his father's car dealership.” 

    Pictures show up on the screen, showing the man when he was alive. It’s a punch to your gut, just minutes before you were fascinated by the way this real person was murdered. You’re glad you had a light breakfast by the way your stomach turns.

    “Monica Dawson, divorced, no kids, 53. She’s a counselor at a local school.” The woman continues speaking, with more pictures on the screen. And then pictures of their deaths, side by side. The fascination is completely extinguished then. “Both were stabbed countless times with a large blade. Left in abandoned warehouses posed in a cross position, a tipped scale on their side. Both naked. Both were heavily drugged.”

    “They didn’t have kids, is that a coincidence?” You hear Emily speak up and suddenly you can see all their brains working.

    “Could that be the linking between them? The victimology is all over the place.” Derek. Oh. You’ve heard of Derek. You’ve seen pictures of Derek. He needs no introduction. 

    “Reid, Morgan, go talk to the first victim’s widow. Rossi, JJ, Ms. Dawson’s ex-husband can give us insight on her life. Emily and us—” He gives you a look and you understand he means you, nodding in reply. “Will head to the DC police precinct.” The way Hotch gives orders is effortless, not only his job but his vocation. 

    Everyone listens and agrees quickly, moving and leaving the table, even Emily is fast on her feet, even though she won’t leave without you and him. You stay still, stiff, eyes glued to the screen.

    “Are you alright?” His voice is soft, laced with worry, genuine worry. You didn’t even notice he had stayed behind, but you nod again at Hotch, a question burning at the tip of your tongue.

    “Do you still believe in God, Mr. Hotchner?”

[bobbin-buckley]

Partners

Astrid Deetz x Masc!Fem!Reader

Summary: Astrid finds a partner to survive college and her classmates

Warnings: Some bullying, fluff, some mentions of almost dying, some spoilers from the movie, homophobia, horrible flirting, fluff at the end!

e/c: eye color

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She found herself wandering the darkened aisles of the college’s library, fingertips brushing against the spines of of each book that have been sitting there for so long some dust falls. She received an assignment regarding Shakespeare, it was basically a detention assignment due to her arguing with her teacher about some disagreements.

When reaching for the book she needed, her warm hand collided with a cold one. Turning her head to look up at the taller figure, she saw you. Now you weren’t popular or anything, but for it being a small college and town she could easily recognize you.

Astrid furred her eyebrows, politely asking you to let go. “I’ve found this book first,” she said in a stern tone.

You glanced down at her. She could notice your attractive state, you were very pretty. Astrid’s brown eyes stared into your e/c, and damn she felt like love at first sight really hit her.

Your voice cut off her trance, “It’s okay, I’m sure you need it more than me.” Your hand moved from the book and her hand, she pouted a bit at the absence of your hand against hers.

Grabbing the book still, she tilted her head slightly…examining you and your features. “Yeah, I do need it more than you. Thanks…” she paused, realizing how shitty that sounded. “Anyways, what’s your name?”

“Y/n,” you answered, “and you?” The more you looked at her the more familiar she became, I mean..yes of course she goes to the same college as you. But you don’t exactly observe the people around you, especially the quiet ones.

She bit her lip, your voice was sexy. Her grip tightened on the book, trying to stay focused. “Astrid,” she answered before asking. “Hm, you just look familiar, have we met?”

“Now that you mention your name, aren’t you the kid that keeps getting picked on by those goons right?” Well that was definitely out there, not that she took any offense to it. She was getting bullied by some of the other schoolgirls, they’d put a Halloween prop in her dorm to scare her, which never works.

“Yeah, I am. I also wish those idiots would stop it.” She sighed, not really wanting to think about them.

“I get that, well I can deal with them if you want,” you offered. She was shocked, never ever did she think anyone would be willing to protect her. Besides maybe her mom, if she was even here.

“It’s fine, really.” Astrid shook her head, she didn’t want to see your pretty face get hurt.

All you did was nod, putting your hands in the pockets of your school pants. “Well uh…just let me know. And if you need help school wise I’m happy to, Shakespeare isn’t easy.” You walked off through the aisle with a smile, disappearing when turning the corner.

Sigh

How was she going to get over you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was never going to get over you.

You were just too damn sweet and perfect! She couldn’t handle the way you smile, the way your eyes beamed into hers and your voice was incredibly attractive!

Astrid wasn’t sure what she was going to do about it, she said she wasn’t going to fall in love like her mom. She didn’t want to be anything like her mom. Even if she did, she might end up getting a divorce if she does ever get married..would that happen with you?

“Ugh, this is so frustrating.” Astrid said under her breath, she’s spent at least two hours now doing all this research and shit.

Normally she does okay when doing school work, but why couldn’t she think? It was because she was thinking of you, fuck.

She took a deep breath, and began to gather her stuff. Maybe if studying with you would help make her less distracted?

Wrong. Absolutely Wrong

Astrid left her dorm, locking it and making sure those pricks won’t get in like last time and prank her. Though when she turned around and headed for the stairs, a book came skimming across the wooden floor, ironically ending up right under her foot causing her to slip and trip down the stairs.

She gasped, her book bag flew down with her. She expected to hit the ground and be dead, but she felt warm arms around her, preventing her from dying.

“Hey you okay?” Astrid looked up, seeing how it was some guy who caught her. She wasn’t sure why, and she was disappointed for some reason.

“Uh..yeah I’m fine,” she backed up from the guy and brushed off her skirt. Then the uproarious sounds of laughter were heard from behind her up the stairs where she slipped. It was the girls that harassed her, they were laughing with tears in their eyes.

Astrid rolled her eyes, a flash of red flashing over her cheeks in embarrassment. She looked back up at the guy.

“How’s your leg? You slipped pretty hard,” he held her hips..for some reason trying to get closer to her.

Astrid backed up again, bending down to pick up all her stuff as he tried to help. “I said I’m fine, thanks.” She said a bit more aggressive, she wasn’t mad at him..just at those girls.

“Well uh..” he started again.

God can’t he shut the fuck up?

“Uhm…I’m Nick. I’m in your literature class.” He said, thinking she’d just know who he was. When really she didn’t. “I was your partner for the Shakespeare project.”

“Shit.” She said out loud, making the oblivious boy furrow his eyebrows. She forgot she had a partner, she just left class early to cool off from being stressed, she never heard who her partner was.

“Right…yeah sorry. Uhm..” “No it’s alright you forgot, I actually came to ask you if you wanted to go study in the library?”

Why did he have to ask that?!

“Oh sure, yeah I guess,” dumbass. Astrid thought, fuck she was screwed..she wanted to study with you!

“Great!” He exclaimed, “let’s get going cause I’ve got a club to meet with later.” He smiled, leading her to the library and she followed him anxiously. She totally forgot about the girls and their prank.

Astrid sat across from Nick, though after every few minutes he’d scoot his chair closer. It made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want to be rude and leave, she already said yes to studying with him. But you…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking through the library, your books in your arms. Now the head over heels girl you are, you studied Shakespeare for Astrid. Even if she didn’t agree to study with you yet…you still wanted to be nice.

When passing through the library, you could hear a familiar voice faint from across the library. You peaked around the corner of an aisle of books, seeing Astrid with a guy!?

“The fuck..?” You muttered to yourself, why was she studying with a guy? I mean sure..cool I guess, but you offered..and why did she decide to go with him instead? You’re definitely smarter than him. (Since you are in your favorite class with him and he has no idea what’s going on)

Jealously floods through your body, hands clenched in fists and clenching the books. You wanted to beat the guy with your books and take Astrid to your dorm.

But she didn’t say yes. So that’s her decision, not yours to make.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While deep in thought of studying, Astrid caught a glimpse of you staring at her and and Nick. You left quickly and she sat up.

“Whoa, you good pretty girl?” Nick asked in a flirty way, bothered the hell out of her.

“No..I’m not.” She huffed, unsure if she should chase after you or not.

Nick bit his lip, “well..maybe uh, taking this studying date behind closed doors might cheer you up?”

Astrid’s eyes went wide at his words, the forceful feeling of gagging escaped her. She turned to looks at him from the library doors.

“Excuse me what? No thank you, and this ain’t a fucking date weirdo.” Astrid stood up quickly, gathering her things. Nick shot up from his chair, damn he was desperate.

“W-wait no, hey I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. How about uh..flowers? Would that suffice?” His dumbass tried to convince, but none of his ‘charm’ was getting to Astrid.

“No. End of story, I’ve got a different study date to catch.” Literally

Astrid took off, speeding walking out of the library and left him behind dumbfounded in the library. She had no idea where you could have gone, she wandered the halls aimlessly.

“Oh is the dyke looking for her girlfriend? She ran off to her dorm with tears in her eyes, you know it’s hard to break Y/n.” Astrid heard the snitch say, she turned to face her and sighed.

“Just shut up Kayla. I don’t need you on my ass right now,” Astrid scoffed and walked off to find you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She spent about an hour looking for you, she eventually found you outside in the rain by the garden. A common place for those who are stressed or sad to hangout at.

“Y/n?” You turned your head when you heard her voice. She looked pretty as ever under the rain, and so did you. You turned away again, not sure what to say but still be upset. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She stepped closer to you, sitting down next to you.

“Sorry, I was just shocked when I saw you with…that guy,” you tried not to sound jealous. But regardless of what you say it sounded like it. “It’s..it’s not that I’m jealous. I just really wanted to be the person to study with you.”

Astrid blushed at your words, her heart feeling touched by your words. “Sounds like your jealous to me..but I won’t tease you.” She chuckled, smiling up at you. “Besides, it was cute of you to come find me and ask again.”

Your own cheeks flared up, it was the first time someone’s ever made you flustered. “Thanks Astrid, if you want to we can still study?” She smiled, meaning yes. “Oh! And uh..might be a little too much but I already did some studying for you..to see maybe what you could be struggling with.”

She watched you pull out some notes, which were kinda ruined from the rain. “Well…” “it’s okay..we can start over if you want.” Astrid stopped you, placing a hand on yours.

Your eyes shifted to hers, then her lips. “I’d love to start over.”

HAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAH CLIFFHANGER

actually nvm I won’t do that to y’all

Astrid pressed her lips against yours, not hesitating to do it. You were glad she did, you were too damn nervous to get any closer. Her hands grasped around your neck, while yours let go of the already damp papers onto her waist. The notes began to dampen even more from falling into a puddle.

From now on your promise to always study with her and keep her from dumbasses like Nick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: Rushed bc I felt bad for not posting anything in awhile

My first time writing Astrid too

And idk who the jerks in the movies names were so Kayla was something that popped into my head

Also not all the way spelled checked bc my brain hurts from homework

[trulyumai]

the lonely cabin isn’t what it seems

— Pairing: Young!Stanford Pines / Reader

—Synopsis: Lost and confused, a woman spots her lifeline; a seemingly desolate and empty cabin. She meets Ford, pleads for his help and shelter only to find things aren’t as they seem. As the scientist starts to fall deeper and deeper for the woman, he realizes they aren’t alone. He’s watching.

Warnings: none so far!

A/N: I finally got to watch Gravity falls and noticed this was a requested character, enjoy this new series!

Part One: The Unexpected Guest

Stanford Pines had always loved the isolation of his cabin, surrounded by nature’s beauty. But tonight, as the wind howled outside, he found himself feeling a strange pang of loneliness.

He was deep in thought, hunched over his cluttered workbench, examining an intricate device he had been tinkering with for weeks. The cabin was filled with books, gadgets, and the faint smell of pine. Stanford often lost track of time here, but tonight felt different; he could sense a storm brewing outside.

Just as he was about to put his tools down for the evening, a loud knock echoed through the stillness. Startled, he pushed away from his workbench, his heart racing. Who would be out here in this weather?

He opened the door cautiously, revealing a figure shivering on his doorstep. She was soaked to the bone, her hair plastered to her face, and her eyes wide with fear.

“Uh, can I help you?” Ford asked, his voice a mix of surprise and caution.

“Please, I’m lost,” she said, her voice trembling. “I saw your cabin from the trail, and I just need somewhere to stay until the storm passes.”

Ford hesitated. He was used to solitude, preferring the company of books and experiments over people. “I don’t usually take in strangers,” he replied, trying to keep his tone firm.

The woman looked up at him, and he caught her gaze. There was a vulnerability in her eyes that tugged at something inside him. She was cute, even with her disheveled appearance, and the thought of turning her away made his heart ache.

“Please,” she whispered, shivering violently. “I’ll just stay for a little while. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

With a heavy sigh, Ford stepped aside. “Fine. Come in.”

As she entered, he noticed her apprehensive demeanor. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to regain warmth. Ford quickly closed the door behind her, the howling wind now a muffled roar.

“you can um, sit by the fire,” he said, gesturing toward the small hearth where flames flickered, casting a warm glow across the room. “I’ll get you a towel.”

While he rummaged through a closet, he could feel her gaze following him. He handed her the towel, avoiding her eyes. “You should dry off.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, smiling as she took the towel. There was something endearing about her shy demeanor, and it made him feel a little flustered.

After a few minutes, the two settled into an awkward silence, the only sound being the crackling fire. Ford couldn’t help but steal glances at her. She was smaller than him, with a kind face, and he noticed the way her eyes sparkled when she looked around the room, taking in his chaotic yet fascinating workspace.

“What do you do here?” she asked, breaking the silence. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m a scientist,” he replied, his voice a bit more relaxed. “Researching the anomalies in this area.”

“Anomalies?” Her interest piqued, and he felt a rush of excitement.

“Yeah, strange occurrences, supernatural phenomena,” he said, the words flowing more easily now. “You’d be surprised what’s out there in these woods.”

Her eyes lit up, and he could see her mind racing. “Like what?”

He leaned back in his chair, his passion igniting. “Well, there’s a portal to another dimension not far from here. I’ve seen creatures that defy the laws of physics. It’s fascinating.”

“Really?” she whispered, captivated. “You must have so many incredible stories.”

He chuckled, surprised by her enthusiasm. “You could say that. Most people don’t believe me, though.”

“Why not?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Ford shrugged, feeling a mix of pride and frustration. “People tend to fear what they don’t understand. It’s easier to dismiss it as nonsense.”

“I think it’s amazing,” she said earnestly. “You’re like a real-life scientist. It’s inspiring.”

Her compliment caught him off guard, and he felt a warmth rising to his cheeks. “It’s nothing special,” he mumbled, looking away.

The storm raged outside, but inside, the atmosphere shifted. They began to exchange stories—she shared tales of her life, her shy nature making her adventures sound all the more charming. Ford found himself laughing more than he had in a long time.

As the hours passed, Ford felt a connection growing between them, an unspoken bond. The way she listened, her wide eyes fixed on him as he spoke, made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t experienced in years.

“Why do you live out here all alone?” she asked, her tone softening.

“It’s… complicated,” he replied, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. “I needed a place to think, away from the chaos of the world.”

“You don’t have to be alone, you know,” she said gently. “I’m sure there are people who would love to be around you.”

Ford looked at her, taken aback by her sincerity. “I appreciate that, but people can be difficult. I’m not exactly the most social person.”

“But you’re so interesting,” she insisted. “You have all these incredible ideas and stories. I want to hear more.”

He chuckled nervously, feeling his heart race. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” she replied, her eyes sparkling. “I mean it.”

In that moment, he realized how much he had come to appreciate her presence. She had a way of making him feel alive, as if the walls he had built around himself were slowly crumbling.

As the fire crackled and the storm raged outside, Ford found himself wanting to share more of himself with her, to let her in. It felt terrifying yet exhilarating.

“Can I show you something?” he asked suddenly, his heart pounding.

“Sure!” she replied, her excitement palpable.

He led her to his workshop, a room filled with strange inventions and diagrams scattered across the walls. “This is where I do most of my work,” he said, feeling a mix of pride and anxiety.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder. “This is incredible!”

Ford couldn’t help but smile as she inspected his gadgets. “I’ve been working on a new device that could help understand the anomalies better,” he said, gesturing to a complex machine. “It’s still a work in progress, though.”

She leaned closer, studying the intricate details. “It’s so fascinating how your mind works,” she said, glancing up at him with admiration. “I can’t believe you built all of this.”

Her words sent a thrill through him. “Thank you,” he said, feeling a warmth in his chest. “I’ve always loved solving problems, figuring things out.”

“I can see that,” she said, stepping closer. “You’re like a genius.”

Ford laughed, but he felt a blush creeping up his neck. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“But you are,” she insisted, her eyes sincere. “You have this passion that’s just… captivating.”

He felt a rush of warmth at her words, his heart racing as their gazes locked. The air between them thickened with an unspoken tension, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she felt it too.

“Um, I—” he started, but the words caught in his throat.

Before he could continue, she reached out and touched his arm gently, grounding him. “Thank you for taking me in… I know how bothersome it might be but I really appreciate it.” She smiled, light and honest.

The sincerity in her voice struck him deeply. He could feel the walls he had built around his heart starting to crumble. “It’s nothing,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

As the storm howled outside, the warmth of the cabin enveloped them, and in that moment, Stanford Pines realized that perhaps shelter wasn’t just about finding refuge from the storm; it was about letting someone in.

And as they stood there, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the brilliance of each other’s presence, he felt the unmistakable spark of something new beginning to bloom between them—a connection that promised to change his world forever.

[papaya-twinks]

red hot chilli 🌶️ - l.n - part 2

Warnings: slight obsessiveness, kinda stalking, swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

other parts

“Ah, there you are, Y/N,” a voice said behind Lando, and he looked up, seeing his friend Carlos standing behind him. Carlos knew who you were? Lando was not about to ruin any chance he could possibly have with you in front of Carlos. 

“Lando, this is my little sister, Y/N,” Carlos said, his familiar Spanish accent seeping through as Lando’s eyes widened. Sister?! Oh fuck…out of all the girls Lando decided to have a major ass crush on, it just had to be Carlos’ sister.

“Less of the little,” you said with a click of your tongue, snapping Lando out of his thoughts about you. It seemed to all be coming back…the crush he’d had on you when Carlos was in McLaren…how could he forget you so easily?

Well, it was hardly his fault. After all, you had had your nose buried in a book half the time, and all he could ever see was whatever renaissance book cover you had up. It was cute, to him, how you always had yourself buried in a book. 

“Yeah, we, uh, we’ve met,” Lando said, his hand scratching on the back of his neck. “Yeah, he walked into a pole,” Alex giggled from behind you as Lando shot her a glare. “Too busy staring at something else,” she continued with mock wistfulness in her voice. 

“Do shut up,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his perfect, chocolate curls. “Well,” Lando said to Carlos with his usual, lopsided grin, “I best be off now. Need to walk my sunflower,” Lando mumbled, trying not to seem suspicious and failing miserably.

And so, with a sheepish and half-apologetic smile to you, he left, speed-walking his way down the pit lane and towards his motorhome. Oh fuck….no, he could feel his old crush coming back…but was he entirely against it? Not at all. 

As much as Lando wasn’t entirely alright with the idea of you being the sister of his best friend (and on-track rival), it made finding your socials much easier. Stalking? Exactly the word. In Lando’s mind (more to convince himself this wasn’t a bad thing), it was just ‘researching’. 

y/n.sainz

Cute. Lando was sitting in his room, the curtains drawn closed, his laptop perched on his lap. He’d changed out of his team polo and into a comfy plain white t-shirt and light grey joggers. “Wow…” he muttered under his breath as he scrolled through your profile. 

There were hundreds of photos, some of you with your books, some of you in front of beautiful pieces of renaissance art (though Lando found you a hundred times prettier). Chewing his lip, he clicked the bright blue ‘sign up’ button in the corner, and entered his email. 

How the hell could he message you out of the blue and say ‘Hi, I’m Lando Norris’? Absolutely not. In the box labelled ‘first name’, he entered the name ‘Luka’, and left the surname blank. It was the first name he could come up with. 

Tapping his fingers onto the keyboard, he waiting so few seconds for the app to load, and then stared at the new, blank account. He changed the default profile picture to one of a cute puppy he found online (girls loved dogs, right?). 

Luka: Hi! Is this Y/N?

Lando had formulated a plan - in which he would pretend he was looking for a Y/N he’d ‘met at a club’, and he’d ’accidentally’ messaged the wrong girl. Lando’s breath hitched for a second as he saw three pale grey dots appear on the bottom of the screen. And then…

Y/N: Hi! I’m busy right now, but I’ll get back to you soon!

…an automated message. “Fuck,” Lando cursed to himself, he should’ve known! You were a gorgeous girl, of course you’d have hundreds of guys (and probably girls too), trying to get into your DMs. 

He was damn lucky you hadn’t tuned off your DMs. All he could do was stare at the message and hope maybe you actually would reply and wouldn’t shut him off as some guy who wanted to try their luck with you. And then another message…

Y/N: Hi, this is Y/N, how can I help?

Wow. How the hell was Lando in awe of a damn message? Everything about you was so fucking hypnotising, and Lando couldn’t deny that he loved it. He did. It was enchanting…god he was falling for a girl he’d seen for a few seconds…plus the years of McLaren before. 

Luka: Hey, I’m looking for a Y/N I met at a club, is that you?

“Please, please, please don’t block me…” Lando thought to himself, hoping you wouldn’t. He hadn’t through that through. What if he messaged you and you just blocked him? Fuck!

Y/N: No, I haven’t met a Luka at a club anytime soon, sorry!

Luka: ah that’s shit, sorry to bother you

Y/N: it’s totally fine, it’s nice to finally have someone who isn’t sending dick pics or something haha 

Luka: don’t worry, haha, I’m not here to do that!!

Y/N: thank god, finally haha :)

Luka: well, it’s nice to meet you y/n :), your photos are rework pretty btw 

Y/N: you as well, and thank you!! your puppy’s really cute too :)

There was this fuzzy little feeling inside of Lando, one he couldn’t quite place as he bid you goodnight, telling you he’d message you again the next day. Like butterflies were fluttering round his body.

And so he closed his laptop, going to bed instead, trying to keep you out his mind. When he’d see you next? He didn’t know, he didn’t care either. Well he cared, yes. But he knew he could talk to you…even if you weren’t there in person. 

How he wished you’d come to the next race in Japan…and then all the other races…and he’d charm you so well…make you his. In less than a day, you had already sent Lando into a feral spiral, his mind thinking over nothing but you and your pretty face. 

There was a part deep down inside of Lando that felt a little…guilty for doing this. Like he was tricking you and making you think he was someone he wasn’t…but the feeling of desperation was overtaking it way quicker than Lando ever wanted. 

And, well…Lando wasn’t sure if it was desperation. The more he stared at your photos, the more he became hypnotised, fixated on one thing. You. This was desperation. No. This was an obsession. 

[screechingsandwichtriumph]

Platonic yandere avengers x reader x romantic yandere peter parker

Idek how to begin this so beware unlucky readers

Summary: you are an idol ,you are an avenger. How can they not be slightly a little bit protective of you

Warnings: yandere themes , stalking, obsession, fighting, blood , I think this is it

Also this will include(I'm sorry I didn't exactly do the like main six or whatever) Tony , Steve , Bucky , Clint , Natasha , Wanda , Peter

This is longer than I expected and I kinda don't like it but here it is in its full glory<3

When you joined the team , they blamed their protectiveness over you to your personality

I mean you are so cute and look so innocent , how can they not want to protect you ?

Tony had totally not hacked into every single account that you own / have owned in your life and he absolutely hasn't researcher your dad's Facebook to find childhood pictures of you. And he surely didn't print those out and handed then around in the team. Also expect to be spoilt rotten. Complained once about a stain on your favorite jacket? Have three more of the exact same just in case

Steve claimed to need specifically your help to understand how to operate anything mechanical ad expect to have a lot of movie marathons. He will read you before you sleep even though you are not a child anymore because ' he just liked when he is reading out loud'

Bucky would be the type of person to dig in deep in your life. He wouldn't stalk you specifically. That is tasked to someone else. No . He would stalk Al your friends and all your exes and highschool teachers.ad if he had to he would accidentally make some of them he consider bad influences disappear

Clint along with Natasha are your stalkers

Clint will always be hidden close by in case you need help with something (like , idk someone dead?) and my man could literally enter your home , casually look around a bit , stare at your decorations , and be out without you even realizing he was never there

Natasha on the other hand isn't so subtle. You could easily spot her on the other end of the street wearing sunglasses and staring at you intensely. Once you were in a bookstore admiring some books and stationary that you did not buy and the next day they were at your door with a little note that said ' saw them and they reminded me of you - Natasha ' as if you hadn't seen her looking at you. It isn't even that she is stupid . She just doesn't care

Wanda practically lived at your head at this point knowing things about you , you were barely aware of. Like , what do you mean you can't remember that one time you went snowboarding and fell? What do you mean how she knows that story and that you never told her? Of course you did silly!

Peter now was clearly in live with you and the first to meet you and get obsessed over you. When after some time he went to Tony and told him about his feelings , Tony supported his feelings to the max since this could be beneficial for all of them. Peter would never leave , they trusted him and he could keep you close.

Now you seem like a soft baby that needs protection from everyone ands that's mainly due to the way you present yourself and act. You have the most bubbly soft personality and everyone loves that

Being an idol , and an avenger was a dream come true for you , so when you had a big show and gave to them tickets to come see you they of course came( Tony almost bought all tha tickets so it could be only you but Steve stopped him)

Heating a music so fitting to your aesthetic it was like they fell in love (platonically and romantically for Peter) all over again. You are just so sweet and cute

Then a day came where an attack happened in new York and all of you jumped to action. They had no time to stop you from going to battle or even think about doing it really. The only think they could do was act.

Now , your powers were so incredibly powerful that they never thought you would have to fight face to face with someone. But they were terrible wrong

Once the fight was over they all spotted you on the corner of a building with bloody fists and a small trail of blood staining your pretty pink costume. A fan of yours was there asking you to take a picture . You kindly smiled at the camera revealing a set of bloody teeth.

Your fan seemed super excited at that and almost yelled out in joy. You bid her goodbye and went towards the group of your shocked friends

They all just stared at you in an unusually bloody shape , that somehow seemed fitting (?)

Later on they were shown a video of you with a bunch of people , that you were brutally fighting with . They were all left to shreds when you left your head held high.( Peter was even more into you after that)

Asks are always open<3

[holylulusworld]

Sleepless Nights

Summary: He needs sleep...

Pairing: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: scenting, implied friends to mates, fluff

Written for @spnkinkevents : Kinky Sam Week 2024 – Day 7: Dealer’s choice – a/b/o

SPN Kinky Sam Week Masterlist

A grumpy and sleepy Sam is adorable. You smile to yourself while watching the gentle giant. He rubs his face absently. 

Sam tries to figure out another spell to make hunting easier. Dean is not a fan of magic. He prefers his guns. But Sam is quite skilled in using magic.

“You should get some sleep, Sam. We can still find the spell to defeat the witch tomorrow,” you sit on the chair next to Sam’s leaning closer to sniff in his direction. He smells like cedarwood, a warm summer rain, and something that’s just him. 

You sigh dreamily and watch him knit his brows together. Sam didn’t hear your words. He’s engrossed in reading another book while you struggle to not hop onto his lap to run your fingers through his hair.

“Soft,” you purr low in your throat while you fantasize about tugging at his hair. 

“What did you say?” Sam dips his head to look at you. “You should go to bed. I got this. I’m sure to find the spell soon.”

“You need your sleep too, Sam. Why don’t you stop for tonight and get some sleep too? It’s unhealthy to stay up all night,” you softly say. “If you don’t look out for yourself, I’ll do it.”

He watches you for a moment, humming as you nervously twiddle your fingers. It’s the first time you have argued with Sam. You chew on your lower lip, hoping that he’s not mad.

Sam is your friend, but he’s still an alpha. Some are more openly aggressive and dominant. You don’t know about Sam. He never tried to dominate you, only because you are an omega.

“You’re very attentive and caring,” Sam suddenly slams the book shut and shoves it away. He gets up from his chair and stretches his back. “You should think about self-care more often. 

“I’m good…really.” You stammer when Sam turns his attention toward you, not the books. “I had a warm shower to relax, and I bought this fluffy pillow.”

“You look tired, and I think you need a warm blanket too,” he cups your face with one big hand. You shudder as his eyes bore into you. “How about I bring you to bed?” Sam murmurs.

“I’m fine,” it’s more a whimper than anything else. “You shouldn’t worry about me, Sam. You do so much more and fight all the time. I’m just the research bug."

Sam ignores your words. He leans closer to whisper in your ear. “I said, you need a warm blanket and a rest.” His voice is raspy and filled with simmering anger. “Omega.”

You gasp audibly. A shudder runs through your whole body hearing your presentation leave Sam’s lips. “Now, you’ll let me bring you to my room and wrap you in a warm blanket. We will sleep and have a good night’s rest.”

Sam doesn’t wait for your answer. He makes quick work and picks you up in bridal style. You squeak, surprised he easily lifts you in his arms.

It doesn’t matter he let his inner alpha take over. You immediately snuggle in his chest and purr at his dominant behavior.

“You need someone to take care of you, and make sure you rest well,” he murmurs while carrying you inside his room. “I’ll be the one doing so.”

Sam carefully places you on his bed and takes off your shoes. He joins you on the bed and brings you in his arms to keep you warm.

“I thought you wanted to wrap me in a warm blanket,” you yawn.

“I’m your blanket and will keep you warm from now on…”

Tags in reblog.

[lair-of-platonic-yanderes]

Hello! Can I request a Platonic! Yandere! Alhaitham x GN! Child! Nahida! Reader? Thank you!

There is a sick God child in Scribe's house

Platonic! Yandere! Al-Haitham x GN! Child! Nahida! Reader

Description: Alhaitham has repeated time and time again, that he is only an Acting Grand Sage. But life of the nation can't just freeze until new Grand Sage is appointed. So, Alhaitham doesn't have a choice and should work with Dendro Archon to clean up the mess, that was from former sages' actions.

Grudges are petty. Smart person could either to stop holding it, or take revenge. Azar, exiled, striped of all his power and influence, has a grudge. Azar still has his intelligence. Azar still has an ace up his sleeve.

_______

Warning and tags: OOC. Platonic Yandere. English is my second language. Spoilers for Sumeru's AQ. Reader are Gender Neutral. Azar is a bastard. Mentions of attempted murder. Poisoning.

Alternative timeline (I guess) - Wanderer's Interlude happened before Fabulous Fungus Frenzy Event).

Wanderer's name is Azra (after character from "The Arcana" game).

Detect quotes from Nahida's voicelines and special dish description.

Alhaitham made one comment about raising a child together with Kaveh. Take it as you want (as a joke, or a pre-relationship).

_____________

Alhaitham's life goals were, in the eyes of some fellow researchers, unfit for an Akademiya Scribe.

"Having an easy job and living a simple live? Are we really talking about star alumnus of the Haravatat Darshan and not about someone from Vimara Village?"

For a few years, that «ridiculous» situation remained a relatively popular gossip between students. "Mysteriously" it was brought up only when Alhaitham was in an earshot.

Alhaitham didn't care about gossips and being a talk of the Akademiya. He liked his life and that was all that matters.

However, after Lesser Lord Kusanali were freed from the captivity, his normal and comfortable life was, while not outright destroyed, disturbed. Acting Grand Sage was still a Grand Sage, whose duties did not compare with the duties of a scribe. Alhaitham wasn’t oblige to accept the new position, but, the overthrow of sages left Sumeru and Akademiya in chaos, and Alhaitham’s normal life would be disturbed anyway. While choosing between more work and rebuilding his life from scratch, he chose the lesser of two evils.

However, on days like this, when sage’s table was almost bursting under the weight of papers, when there were an archon, who offered their help, and who were now lost among mountains of old documents, that had to be placed on the floor, Alhaitham thought, that starting life from scratch was not a bad idea.

In theory (or in a book) after the coop, Sumeru’s problems should be easily resolved. Archon were free and ready to rule Sumeru again, traitorous sages were stripped of their powers and exiled, and the problem with appointing new sages shouldn’t be that hard. There were enough people, who didn’t dirty themselves with betrayal, and, Alhaitham admitted, Dendro Archon have all necessary means to investigate new sages. Alhaitham himself would gladly assist in choosing Azar’s (or his, if he is counts) successor. Ask him, and Alhaitham will confess, that he made a bet that problems would be resolved quickly, and he would not have to stay Grand Sage longer than necessary.

And then, history and laws reminded of their existence.

_______

If someone read books about Akedemiya's history, they might find a very strange name in a list of previous Grand Sages. Strange in a way "Aren't Grand Sages (or just Sages), normally, are chosen from people of Sumeru? How someone from Fontaine managed to become a head of Akademiya?"

The truth is, Grand Sage Dupont, who lived three-hundred years ago, despite the name, technically, wasn’t from Fontaine. His parents, two Driyoshs, conducted research in a land of Hydro, and, during that time, future grand sage was born. The reason behind his name was lost in time (Did his parents plan to stay in Fontaine at first? Did someone named Dupont saved them?), but, when young Dupont reached schooling age to attend Akademiya, the family returned to Sumeru.

Information about Dupont's Akademia’s days were vague, except of few moments.

First, and the most obvious one, Dupont was smart, and his academic success was undeniable. However, some books from that period mentioned, that Dupont has an annoying trait of skipping from one topic to another in his research papers, using long, overcomplicated (even for Akedemiya's standards) words. Despite that, he never mentioned insignificant information, and, at the end, everything would play its part. That turned an annoying trait into a valuable trait for a researcher. It was a question of time, before Dupont became a Great Sage.

Second, he was obsessed with proving his loyalty to Sumeru. It was unclear, where it came from. He never mentioned, that his peers looked down at him, or if he had troubles with professors.

Third, after spending a childhood in a nation of Courts and Justice, was enamored with lawmaking.

Fourth, he wasn't hiding his tendency to overcomplicate texts (Alhaitham read some of the Dupont books, and, if he was one to judge, "overcomplicate" was a major downgrading), mad loyalty to Sumeru and dreams of making laws.

His days as Grand Sage were unofficially called The Age of Web of Laws.

Age, when Sumeru was flooded with new laws each day, Dendro Archon were pronounced a captured traitor, and people realized, why researchers, who use long words and could jump from one important point to another, probably, should stay away from lawmaking.

Law, after law, on top of three others laws, that connected to unreleased laws made Sumeru's law system a knotted mess.

And then, he remembered about Dendro Archon in Sanctuary of Surasthana.

Lesser Lord Kusanali, during their capture, were ignored. Dupont, for some reason, decided, that Archon, who lost their power and memories during Cataclysm are a traitor and should be treated as such.

He couldn't exile them or execute them. So, as a person in charge, instead, he hopped to make their life a living hell.

There were few hundreds of laws, forbidding or complicating Dendro Archon's possible return to power and rulership. A few dozens laws of making their life in captivity hard (Like a "Seafood law", by which allowed feeding Dendro Archon seafood and only seafood for breakfast/dinner/lunch. Grand Sage failed to realize, that Sumeru, at that point, wasn't a fishing nation, and the required amount of seafood need to be bought from other nations and will cost a lot of mora). Then, the laws, that prohibited the worship of Dendro Archon came. And, when Dupont mentioned, that he will look into possibility of executing Dendro Archon followers, people finally realized, that situation got out of hand.

After a long battle of wits, public opinion and bureaucracy, Dupont was exiled. Most of his laws were banned or cancelled. Even laws about Archon's followers were taken care of.

But, no one cared about Dendro Archon. All laws, that were focused on them were ignored, but never were cancelled.

So, when Lesser Lord Kusanali got on the throne, that useless laws were remembered. Sumeru was in a dire need of sorting them and dealing with them.

_______

That's lead to Alhaitham's and Lesser Lord Kusanali's current situation. To finally get rid of Dupont's laws, Acting Grand Sage and Dendro Archon were working together for the last few days.

Thankfully, it was the last of the bunch, and, if everything went well, in three days the work will be over.

The closest paper mountain tilted, but was stopped by a pair of small hands, emerging from the paper bowels. The next moment, the rest of Dendro Archon followed.

Lesser Lord Kusanali, or, [Y/N], as they called themselves, were almost hugging the much taller tower slowly moving around it, trying to prevent its fall.

[Y/N] managed to not only hold papers back, but also get in the front of the unstable mountain. For one second it looked like papers will stay in place. But, [Y/N] hold a metal container in their right hand and weren't planning on dropping it to stabilize the paper tower better.

Like on a clue, papers on top slid down, ending up on [Y/N]’s head. Alhaitham, without stopping reading the papers before him, grabbed Dendro Archon by the pale green cape. Scribe picked them up, saving from being buried under the paper avalanche. Just in time. The tower fell, and [Y/N] dangled in Alhaitham's grip. Ignoring the blatant blasphemy (who could dare to hold the ruler of a nation, God of Wisdom, as if they were a naughty puppy?), Alhaitham lowered them back on the floor, putting an archon back on their feet.

[Y/N] took off papers from their head with free hand, looking at them in displeasure. They glance at the pile of papers on the ground, reading the titles. They mumbled under their breath, mostly to themselves, not expecting Alhaitham to speak.

“And the Seafood Law is found.”

He looked up from his current documents (Law of "forbid Dendro Archon to walk down the street") looking at the archon with faint interest. As if sensing his gaze, they turned the document in his direction. Alhaitham, quickly reading through the first page, hummed. Without taking away the document, Alhaitham wrote a "Cancelled" on top of the first page.

One more centuries old foolish law that poisoned the life of current Sumeru were dealt with.

Without care, [Y/N] dropped the document on the floor. With a small smile, they turned towards Alhaitham, placing the container before him, on top of the (finally cancelled) "Street law". Alhaitham raised an eyebrow.

"I thought, that you need a small break." [Y/N]'s voice sounded soft and a tiny bit shy. "So, I brought some Candied Ajilenakh Nuts."

They don't seem like traditional Candied Ajilenakh Nuts. Instead of familiar rectangles, Alhaitham was looking at the four-petaled flower, laying on top of the four green-white leaves. He took one of the "leaves", taking a small bite. Syrup melts upon contact with his mouth, nuts easily crumbed under his teeth. Alhaitham swallowed the delicious treat,

Alhaitham, despite spending almost a week working together with Dendro Archon, didn't take them for a cook. Yet, here we are.

"Why?" Alhaitham wasn't sure, if it was a simple curiosity, or just an attempt in small talk. Child god looked at him with big warm eyes.

"Why I decided to give you a gift? The sea anemone has helped the little fish and witnessed its growth, so it's only natural for the little fish to give something back. Why Candied Ajilenakh Nuts?" their gaze became a little bit dreamy. "One little bite makes the brain starts chugging away at top speed, and suddenly there's no problem too difficult to solve."

Alhaitham hold back a smile. Lesser Lord Kusanali had a moment of "normalcy".

Alhaitham wasn't a believer. Gods were just gods, a part of biological hierarchy, perhaps, a product of evolution. He wasn't the one to defy Dendro Archon's divinity, but he won't pray or worship them. At least, that's how he was. Before he started working with Dendro Archon.

It was easy to be an atheist in "old" Sumeru. For years, Dendro Archon was an idea, an echo of the past. Even history books has no clear images of pre-Cataclysm Dendro Archon. Just a schematic drawing of a human head with large green headpiece. Akasha Terminal only provided information on who Lesser Lord Kusanali were, not on who they are.

Then Alhaitham helped to rescue Lesser Lord Kusanali. Dendro Archon stopped to be an idea. It wasn't enough for Alhaitham to start bowing before the divine. The week of working together with Dendro Archon wasn't enough.

But now Alhaitham didn't know, how to view Lesser Lord Kusanali anymore.

They were an Archon, ruler of the nation.

They were a winner of Archon War, who lost their memories and powers during Cataclysm.

They were a poor soul, who were locked in their own home for five hundred years.

They were a wise person, whose somewhat simple metaphors hide true answers.

They were a child, who have a sweet tooth, liked big gatherings (Aether told him about "A Moment of Dreams") a toy box with handmade toys, who, sometimes, were clueless about proper social interactions.

[Y/N] were too many things, and their picture in Alhaitham's mind became more and more conflicting each day.

He should be respectful, but not a fanatic. He should see them as a god. Not as a child.

So, where does the surge to protect that poor child came from?

Alhaitham's facial expression became neutral again. He closed the container, putting it away.

"Thank you, Lesser Lord Kusanali, but right now I don't have time to enjoy it. There is still a lot of work to do."

Dendro Archon simply nodded, turning back to paper mountains.

"Understandable. Now, where is the law, that forbids children to wear green, gold and white colors is?"

Alhaitham perked up, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Did he forced you to...?"

[Y/N] immediately shake their head.

"No! He was planning to release that law, but, fortunately, the same day he was finally accused of power abuse. Still, not hurt to check out if he managed to sign it. And, if we are lucky, we will finally found that little paper sheet, according to which I can't cancel laws."

Dendro Archon slowly moved among the paper towers.

Alhaitham was back to work. But, from time to time, his gaze lingered to the metal container with Candied Ajilenakh Nuts.

For last week, Lesser Lord Kusanali arranged food for the two of them, and now make something for him.

He cooked before, but never tried to make dessert. Well, we live, we learn.

__________

It was a given, that Alhaitham and Kaveh split the house chores between each other. Yes, Alhaitham might use the owner's status and make Kaveh, who was living here rent-free, do all the chores, but he would never do that. To be frank, the thought of blackmailing Kaveh (or anyone else in a dire situation) was making Alhaitham sick.

So, the cooking was split between them. Of course, if someone wanted to add something to the table when it wasn't their turn, they were free to do it.

Tonight, Kaveh appreciated the dessert Alhaitham brought home.

There were some minor passive-aggressiveness during dinners (Kaveh preferring making soups, or Alhaitham making spicy dishes), but, mostly, there weren't any conflicts, and they will eat each other cooking without complaining, commenting or making a scene and cooking something else.

So, when Alhaitham, who, after dinner, grabbed the cookbook Kaveh brought home a few months ago, and occupied the kitchen, he expects questions from Kaveh.

For now, he was silent. Kaveh observed, how Alhaitham was mixing ingredients.

"You are making a dessert." Kaveh's voice sounded flat. Alhaitham barely glance at him, before returning his attention to cooking. Baklava wasn't an easy thing to make for a newbie baker, but it was the only dessert he has all ingredients to make.

"Since when do you have a sweet tooth? First candied nuts, now this." Kaveh refused to drop the subject.

"It's just a small treat for a child who gave me candied nuts today" answered Alhaitham

"For a child?" Kaveh raised an eyebrow. "Did you take in an apprentice? Or..." Kaveh expression became worried. "Or are you planning to adopt a child?"

Alhaitham's mouth moved, before he could think about his next words.

"What if I am?" Alhaitham send a heavy glance towards Kaveh. "What if I am thinking about taking in a child?"

Kaveh expression dropped.

"Spare an innocent soul, Alhaitham. Kids, especially orphans, need attention and emotional involvement and attachment. And you are... I can't picture, what kind of parent would you be."

Alhaitham, who didn't stop cooking, finally finished forming baklava, put it in an oven. With his back turned towards Kaveh, he shrugged.

"I will be a fine parent. And, as for emotions. Well, I have you for that. Together, we will raise a normal child."

His roommate was silent. When Alhaitham turned around, he saw, that Kaveh was closing and opening his mouth, just staring at Alhaitham with an unreadable emotion in his eyes.

Alhaitham sighed.

"I am not planning an adoption or having an apprentice. [Y/N] are a child from Akademiya I have been working with for the last few days. They were quite helpful, and I just want to show my gratitude."

Kaveh was silent. He spoked in a hushed voice.

"[Y/N] from Akademiya. Child, you have been working with. Alhaitham, I respect your take on gods, and Lesser Lord Kusanali might be a kind and forgiving archon, but, don't you think, that calling them a child and by name is disrespectful?"

Alhaitham didn't flinch.

"I don't think, they would mind. They are kind and forgiving."

'Too forgiving.' mentally noted Alhaitham. 'Azar is still out there. Who knows, what he might do.'

Alhaitham glance back at the oven.

"I just want to show them some kindness. They don't have their memories and for five centuries no one show kindness to them. It's not right."

Kaveh pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Since when you became so emotional, hm?" He didn't wait for an answer, turned around and walked out of the kitchen. Before leaving, he looked back at Alhaitham.

"I hope, that you know what you are doing."

Alhaitham knew. He knew, that [Y/N] need some warmth and parental care.

Also, Alhaitham wondered what Azar was up to?

_____

Since he was a child, Azar knew, that he was born to be great. He was from the family of great researchers. He was smarter, than his peers. He was the best student of Rtawahist. He knew, that he will be a Grand Sage one day. It was his birthright.

In his previous life, he has everything. Power, respect, authority, live of luxury.

Now he has no power, he was despised, under constant supervision of forest watchers and matras and was living in an old hut.

Azar hated Avidya Forest. He hated to have nothing, while the traitorous Alhaitham, Tighnari and Cyno and the joke of an archon have everything.

Azar knew, that he can't change anything. But, he will be damned, if he won't try to get revenge.

He glanced at the night sky. It was hard, he only had one shot.

Lesser Lord Kusanali put him in this position. And they would be the one to pay the price.

It wasn't an option, to kill an archon. It wasn't the most common knowledge, but Azar was aware, what happens, when god die. But, what if an archon became so weak, they will lose a human form?

When they were working together, Dottore mentioned, that he made a poison, that will weaken an archon. He didn't test it. Nations won't take kindly to poisoning their archons.

Thankfully, Elchingen wanted to prove himself to Dottore by all means.

Azar didn't care, what would happen to Dendro Archon. They could either die, or became a twig, he didn't care.

He hated them ever since he, a newly appointed Rtawahist Sage, was allowed to enter Sanctuary of Surasthana. When he saw that thing, that dared to called themselve a God of Wisdom. A meek child, who everyone called forgiving, and who exiled him, instead of forgiving.

For a crime of offending the prodigy, Dendro Archon have to pay.

_______

"Are you sure, that you don't want to have something with your tea?" you tilted your head, looking at your guest. Wanderer, who now calls himself Azra, rolled his eyes.

You two were having tea in your living quarters in the Sanctuary of Surasthana. You rarely invited someone here, but Azra was a special case.

"No, I don't want any sweets."

You just smiled, taking a bite of baklava Alhaitham made for you. It didn't look pretty, but it was tasty. You didn't expect him to give you a present in return, you just wanted to give him something sweet. But, you won't complain.

Azra was silently drinking his tea.

"How is your trip going on?" asked you. "Are aranaras a good company for you?"

Azra shrugged.

"Nothing interesting. Aranaras are fine, nation is calm. Someone is planning a tournament focused on overgrown mushrooms."

You hide a smile behind the teacup.

"Yes, I knew. Yesterday, Kautilya and Elchingen came here, asking for permission to uphold the tournament. They even send gifts." You pointed at a few colorful boxes that were standing on the small table in the corner. "Do you want to participate in the tournament?"

Azra raised an eyebrow.

"Is it an order?"

You shook your head. It wasn't the time to order him around or force him to an interaction. Small steps, time will come.

"No. While it will be a good thing, if you will be more social, I won't force you into talking to other people."

Azra huffed.

"Then I will pass. I still have some parts of Sumeru to visit."

You just smiled.

"As you wish."

You take a candy from the box. It was one of the Elchingen's gifts. It was sweet, and the flavor was a little bit overwhelming, but, still, it was good. Not as good as Alhaitham's baklava.

For a few moments both of you were silent again. Then Azra spoke once again. He frowned.

“Elchingen… That name sounds familiar.”

You waited to Azra to tell you more. After few more moments, he shook his head.

“No, I can’t remember, where I have heard it.”

You tilted your head.

“Don’t worry about it. Perhaps, he wasn’t that important for you to remember him.” Azra just shrug, not looking at you. With a sigh, you put your teacup back.

“Azra, your desire to travel is a good thing, and I did support you. However, if I can suggest, staying in one place is also good. Spent some time in Akademiya, attend some public lectures. Try to have a taste of life in Sumeru.”

Azra didn’t look interested in your idea, but, he nodded anyway.

“Fine, I guess I will put wandering on hold for now”.

If he heard your chuckle, he didn’t show it.

_________

Another day of work was over. Alhaitham and you did a great job, and almost all old laws were dealt with. Azra left, prefering to camp in the wild instead of staying in the capital. You were alone in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

And you felt sick.

It sounds impossible, but archons also can become sick. While the symptoms will never be as serious as mortal's symptoms, it still will be an unpleasant days.

The most serious "sickness" you had was that one time, when you spend all night, hopping from one dream to another, helping sick children. All of them had fever dreams, and you had to go through multiple strange dreams. It ended in you having a headache for whole day.

You curled on your bed, feeling a wave of nausea. You were hot and cold at the same time, you had a headache, you were trembling.

You hold back tears. For that one moment, you didn't feel like an archon, a victor of a war, a ruler of a nation.

You felt like a lonely, sick child.

You were a lonely, sick child til the morning. Until Alhaitham, who wondered, why you were late, didn't start looking for you.

______

"What do you mean they have been poisoned?" barked Alhaitham, grabbing Tighnari by the hood. Tighnari's ears dropped, he felt, how the fur on his tail stood on end. He didn't expect to be disturbed by Alhaitham.

Alhaitham, who has never raised his voice, looked like an enraged abyss monster. He was breathing heavily, his eyes were narrowed, and his teeth were clenched. And, Tighnari could swear, he heard a quiet growling sound.

"It is true, Alhaitham. Lesser Lord Kusanali aren't sick, they aren't having some sort of godly rebirth. They have been poisoned. They show all symptoms of the poisoning."

Alhaitham breathe in and out. He let go of Tighnari.

A quiet whine got their attention. Dendro Archon were laying on their bed. They were laying under the blanket with their eyes closed, with a wet towel on their forehead.

The bed already was big enough to have two adults comfortably laying in it, and it would look even bigger, when a child were laying here. And now, when Dendro Archon were sick, when they looked smaller and weaker, then they truly were.

Alhaitham automatically moved forward, sitting on the bed's edge. He carefully took the towel and, after dripping it in the water bowl, put in back on their forehead. His hands linger above archon's head, before he made a decision. He carefully pet archon's head.

"How?" Alhaitham's voice was barely a whisper. Tighnari opened his mouth in shock. Alhaitham was surprisingly emotional today. And if his reaction to poisoning was understandable (more problems to Sumeru means him being an Acting Grand Sage longer, than he wants to), but the unexplained tenderness was... unexplained.

"How, Tighnari? How they got poisoned?" Alhaitham turned his head towards the forest ranger. Tighnari, whose thoughts were interrupted, shake his head, trying to focus. It helped for a bit.

"It's not a simple poisoning. Not from bad food, or wrong ingredients, or wrong tea mix. The poison looks complicated. It's..."

"An assassination attempt." finished Alhaitham. Dangerous light flashes in his turquoise-orange eyes. Tighnari stayed silent. There was no need for words. He sat down on one of the chairs, rubbing his temples. Why Dendro Archon can't catch a break? First sages, then old laws, now...

Alhaitham stand up.

"Tighnari, help me transport [Y/...] Lesser Lord Kusanali in my home."

Tighnari jumped up so fast, he felt slight dizziness.

"What?! Wh- You- They- Why?!"

Alhaitham spoke slowly. Like he was trying to explain the situation to a kid.

"There is a traitor, or traitors on the loose. And, it seems, Sanctuary of Surasthana isn't the most protected place. And [Y/N] need to be protected. And I can only trust myself right now."

Alhaitham noticed a change in Tighnari's expression. "You and Cyno too, but, Cyno will be busy with an investigation, and you are living too close to the former sages."

Tighnari's gaze soften for a bit.

"It does make sense. But, are you sure, Alhaitham?"

Alhaitham, who was now looking around, making mental notes on what to take with him, nodded.

"More than I ever have been."

______

You were barely conscious. You heard voices, that sounded, like they were speaking from the great distance.

You felt, how multiple blankets were put around you, and you were carried somewhere.

You woke up in a strange place. It wasn't your room. The bed was smaller, than yours, and there were too many books there. For a moment, you thought, that you were laying in the library.

The room's door opened. You focus your gaze on an 'intruder'. Alhaitham walked inside, carrying a tray with a bowl on it. Judging by a steam raising from it, you assume, that it was soup.

Kaveh tried to follow after Alhaitham. The architect looked agitated, but, the moment he looked at you, his gaze softens. But, before he can step inside the room, Alhaitham kicked the door, closing it right before Kaveh's face.

"Oh, you are awake, [Y/N]."

You tried to talk.

"Where..."

"In my home." Alhaitham's voice was soft. You might even call it "parental voice". Alhaitham put the tray on the bedside table and helped you to sit down. He put his hand on your forehead, like he was checking the temperature. He frowned.

"How do you feel, [Y/N]?" Alhaitham looked concerned. You whispered. Your mouth was dry and there was a terrible bitter taste.

"Bad. Thirsty and hungry."

Alhaitham nodded. He frowned. He picked up the soup bowl. You get a better look at it. It seems, that you have mistaken. It was a simple plain broth, not a soup. Meanwhile, Alhaitham scooped up some broth with a spoon. He blew on it then hold the spoon towards you.

On better days, you would take the spoon in your own hand. But, you felt so tired. You weren't sure you can move a finger.

You let Alhaitham spoon-feed you.

While you were eating, Alhaitham spoke.

"Someone tried to poison you, [Y/N]. To keep you safe, I volunteer to house you, until the danger is gone."

You stay silent. You didn't know what to feel. Were you that bad of an archon? Only deserve to be imprisoned, or dead?

Suddenly, a pair of arms were carefully put around you. It wasn't a real hug, but still a hug.

"I promise, [Y/N], I will deal with it."

After he let you go, he gave you more broth. Then he gave you water. He gave you some medicine (from stomachache and fever).

He tucked you in.

"Rest, [Y/N]. Rest and get better. If you need company, Kaveh is in a next room."

Alhaitham carefully pet your head, before leaving. The door was left open, and you could see Alhaitham's and Kaveh's silhouettes.

Alhaitham's gestures were nice. But, there was something in his voice. Something strange.

It was wrong to read others' thoughts.

But, you wanted to understand.

You reach your shaking hands towards the door. You made a gesture with your fingers.

You release your powers.

______

"Acting Grand Sage, what an honor. How Dori Sangemah Bay could help you?" Dori's tone was anything, but not friendly. If she could, she would send him away. But, she can't. If she didn't want to get arrested by Cyno.

General Mahamatra was standing behind Alhaitham, observing. Near him was standing another person. Another investigator.

A strange wanderer in a big hat volunteered to help with investigation. Of course, no one would consider allowing him to help, but after Lesser Lord Kusanali themselves confirmed, that wanderer is their old acquaintance and can be trusted, he became a part of investigation team.

It was impossible to cover up the poisoning. So, all of Sumeru knew about the investigation. Including Dori.

Alhaitham's voice was calm. Terrifyingly calm.

"Do you knew, who tried to poison Dendro Archon?"

Straight to the point. Dori focused her attention on her fingernails.

"There is some information. But, I really want to hear, what Akademiya can offer for..."

"ALHAITHAM, STOP!"

A pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders. She was picked up and shoved into crates, where she had stored goods she planned to sell during the upcoming tournament.

Turquoise-orange eyes met with golden brown. Alhaitham hissed, while Cyno tried to pry him off Dori.

"A life of poverty and exile, if you don't cooperate. A good deal, don't you think?"

Dori tried to struggle, but Alhaitham's grasp was too strong.

"Alhaitham!" growled Cyno. Alhaitham almost spit his next words.

"I have a sick child in my home. A child, who was poisoned and who still suffer from it. And you want me to be calm, when she is demanding a price?!"

A million thoughts were raising in Cyno's head. He was aware of Alhaitham's views on gods. But, thinking about gods as a product of evolution is one thing. And thinking about rule of the nation as a child was another.

Meanwhile, Dori shouted.

"I will help! I will! But, please, I do need a protection! If rumors are true, Fatui might be involved."

Alhaitham let Dori go. His voice was hard as steel.

"Speak. And I promise a protection.

And Dori spoke.

About a man named Elchingen. About strange purchases of rare herbs he made. About him being seen in a company of Fatui solders. About Elchingen mentioning "Master Dottore". And rumors of Elchingen meeting with former Grand Sage.

______

You were sitting in the common room of Alhaitham's home, next to the man himself.

Well, perhaps, at this moment, you should probably call it your home.

Kaveh was working on some project in his own room, while you were trying to focus on the book in your hands. It was hard.

Instead of a text from the book, you have been remembering some articles from "Steambird".

"Fontaine merchant was torn apart during the tournament in Sumeru"

You knew the truth. Azra made sure to leave you a message through aranaras, before leaving to Snezhnaya.

You got lucky, that the poison Elchingen gave you weren't the original one, but a replica. Without all necessary components, it wasn't lethal for an archon.

"Former Grand Sage tried to assassinate Dendro Archon"

"Former Grand Sage is under arrest"

"Former Grand Sage hang himself in the cell"

Alhaitham didn't tell you the truth. But you understand, what really happened.

Traitors were dealt with. You felt much better. You could return to the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

You can't.

"Because you are still in danger, [Y/N]."

"Because after one will come others, [Y/N]."

"I will make sure, that you are safe. I will change Sumeru and make it safe for you."

You cast a quick glance at Alhaitham. You spoke.

"If you need help with something, I could..."

Without looking at you, he put a hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair.

"Don't worry, [Y/N]. Leave it to adults. Have a happy childhood, my child."

You probably could fight. You could order him to knock it off. You could exile him.

But every time you try to do it, you will remember his thought.

The thought you read a few months ago.

"I wish, that [Y/N], that my child lead a peaceful life"

And you let him coddle you, to parent you. You let him to constantly watch over you. You let h be a gray cardinal, staying a Scribe, but manipulating the current Grand Sage. You let him reshape Sumeru in your honor. You shoved Azar's demise in the deepest corner of your mind.

Sages' actions came from their greed for power.

Alhaitham's actions came from the parental love.

If you were a bird, that never knew the taste of freedom, that sages were a cage, and Alhaitham was an indoor garden. Both were a captivity. But the garden was a better illusion of a freedom.

[sanjisluvbot]

Isekai Yandere Strawhats Chapter 2

Previously| next

The days turned to weeks and weeks to months soon, that world was a thought of the past. Y/n had continued to her regular life going to school, hanging out with friends, and having her biggest worries being what time her assignments were due.

She didn’t throw away any of her old books or posters with those characters on them instead she put them in a box under her bed. Just so they were right beneath her feet if she ever wanted to return and fantasize about maybe a different time, maybe if things would’ve gone differently. 

The seasons were beginning to change March would soon become April. It had only dawned on the girl today that a year had passed since she first started that journey. Sitting by the window as the birds chirped in glee, Y/n finally had some time to dive into her memory.

A year ago Y/n had just met the straw hat pirates. She appeared in their life so suddenly, and little did she know they would become so easily enamored. She laughed to herself in disbelief then rubbed her hand through her bangs, “ How could I be so stupid?” she said to herself.

Opening her curtains for the rays of the sun to wash over her reminded her of tanning with the girls on the Sunny, in the beginning, it was just so sweet, wasn’t it?

With a sigh, she got up from her bed and waltzed over to grab her remote from the desk turning on the TV hoping to drown out the memory of a certain someone. The shows were white noise as the face of Trafalgar Law was all she could focus on. 

A call from her mother had made her jump and she quickly made her way out of her room. “ Yes, mother?” She said walking into the living room. Her mother smiled and handed her a letter. The envelope was black with no writing on it and the seal was yellow with a small bear on it.

Y/n bit her lip, not wanting to get too excited in front of her mother and for herself, who knows if this letter is from who she thinks it is?

She thanked her mother and quickly made her way back to her room shutting the door with her back. The pit of her stomach grew butterflies and nerves flared inside of her. She turned off her TV and sat on her bed using her thumb to unseal the envelope.

There were two letters inside marked with red and blue at the tips of the corner. Pulling the blue one out first she swiftly opened it and began reading.

Dear Y/n, I wonder what you’ve been doing all this time. I know you got back home safely, I can feel it in my bones. I debated on whether or not I should just go see you myself but I figured it was better to let you enjoy your time with your family for now.

I have been able to avoid clashing with BlackBeard thanks to you and I have been able to gather more research on this gateway between our worlds. I won’t go too in-depth in this letter but I can say that we have a lot to talk about once we meet again. After you left the strawhats also left me alone without a word or a fight. Within the next month, we will meet but it will take some effort on your part as well. Please read the next letter for additional information. 

L. 

Y/n felt ecstatic, finally after months of wondering what happened to Law there was an answer, directly from him at that. She tossed the note beside her pulled out the red-tipped letter and began reading.

There were instructions and illustrations explaining how to open a gateway directly onto the polar tang where they could travel with ease. It was a method without shifting that wouldn’t be so strenuous on both parts.

At the end of the letter, there was a small warning, “ It will take time, over a month on your end to make sure that the gate is stabilized so as soon as you read this you should get started.”

With a smile on her face, she followed both letters back into the envelope and began to follow the instructions. The instructions were relatively easy but there was a reason she needed time.

Step one, keep the mirror on your door as clean as can be that will be the gate. Step two, ensure any other mirrors are not facing the gate including your television.

Step three, keep your curtains open as the sun will help charge up the portal. The other steps were simple as well, don’t keep anything plugged in at night, and keep a diet consisting of greens. 

Y/n had a new pep in her step and everyone around her noticed. Y/n had smiled more often and life at home seemed like a fantasy for her parents, they never had to ask her twice to complete chores or help out with anything around the house.

The first week of April swings by and exam season is brewing up, Y/n spent time studying with her friends in the library. " Y/n me and y/f/n are going to get drinks real quick."

The girl waved her friends off too focused on her current textbook. A minute passed before she was interrupted again by a text message. Her mother was telling her she needed to pick up something for dinner, she sighed and decided to take a break from studying and possibly find a book she could take home.

Out of interest Y/n took to the supernatural fantasy section. Wondering if she could find any books relating to portals and how they work.

At the top of the shelf there was a black hardcover with the words open your mind written in script on the spine. Reaching up she grabbed it, ‘ Open Your Mind written by N.R’. The book seemed to be brand new, the pages crisp and the cover silky smooth.

Returning to her seat Y/n began to read. Her friends soon returned and hours had passed as Y/n fell into the fantasy world of N.R. The book was about a women who had a found family and was able to discover the mysteries of her world. The chills ran down her spine when she realized how similar it had been to one piece.

Although there weren’t any pirates Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling of having heard a few similar stories within her favorite series. Bitting her lip she closed the book on the third chapter, not wanting to spoon herself while with her friends.

Y/n tucked a strand of her behind her ears and told her friends she would be off as it was getting late. Waiting for the bus questions popped into her head.

There is no way one of them could be here right?

Law made sure they didn’t have a way back right?

It’s been so long since she was filled with this much anxiety. The cool spring breeze wouldn’t cool her nerves and the palms of her hands filled with sweat.

The bus finally came and she stepped on seating herself in the single seats. Her head rested on the window and she silently watched the cars zoom by leaving colorful glares.

🏷️: ( new tag list, reply to be added to next update )

A/N: Welcome back to the drama!!! I’m so excited to begin this new journey again and I am so happy everyone enjoyed the first part. I don’t currently know how long I want this part to be but I will have a schedule in my Masterlist of when I will update.

Extra: What do you think about the letter?

[fan-goddess]

Hello lovely xo, can I request Aemond reuniting with his childhood love/crush at a feast after not seeing her for six years.

Author Note: Hi love of course you can! I wrote so much more for this than I thought I was gonna write I really took of, plus after looking back at the request I didn’t make them meet at a feast… still I hope your happy!

Word count: 5.3K words

Warnings: None explicitly needed, though reader is described as being female, kissing stuff and insecurities

Other Links: My Ewan Mitchell masterlist for more Aemond content

Taglist: @blue-serendipity

—————

Aemond was one and ten when he first laid his eyes on you, the daughter of Tyland Lannister.

You had golden hair that resembled Sunfyres scales. Your eyes were green like grass. Oh and your smile, it could light over a thousand lanterns. He easily thinks the best part about you was that smile…

The first time Aemond saw you up close was in the library. He was researching Daenys’ prophecies when he heard a strange thumping noise go off within the shelves.

“Hello?” He called out. “Is anyone here?” An annoyed scowl taking over his face when no one showed up immediately to take credit. He went back to reading, though soon he became too on edge to even get past another sentence. What if there was actually a person hidden in the shelves and they wish to kill him?

Aemond put down his book and walked into the shelves, peeking round the corners to see if anyone lurked there. He looked for a couple minutes, shifting from his least favourite section the poetry books to his favourite the section on Targaryen history.

That’s however, when he sees golden hair peeking from the sides of the display. He doesn’t choose to call out to them, in fear the mysterious person will flee and he’ll never get to see them. Aemond slowly takes out his dagger and stalks towards the person, his heart beating rapidly at the possibility of a fight taking place.

When he turns the corner though, with his dagger held high and stance ready to take a fight, he feels his heart is about to burst from his chest when he sees you innocently sitting on the ground with a book in your lap. You seem to be asleep, as the pages aren’t being turned and your neck seems to have laid itself in an uncomfortable position.

He places his dagger back in its hold and kneels forward to take a look, and to see if you truly are sleeping. He nearly smiles when he sees how innocent you look in this view. Though Aemond knows he should not be jealous at that moment, and goes to wake you up as carefully as he can.

“M-my lady…” He all but whispers, gently taking the book from your lap. His restraint shows well as his hands attempt to not caress the skin that’s being revealed from your slightly ridden up skirt. “My lady, I think you need to wake now.” He uses one hand to gently shake your shoulder and the other to grasp your chin and pull your head up. His restraint is tested once more when his thumb nearly brushes over your lips.

Aemond is ever so grateful when you let out a small groan and groggily open your eyes. It’s almost amusing when your eyes turn panicked when you realise the situation you were in. “M-my prince I am so sorry!” You shout. Attempting to stand up but you nearly fall over in the struggle. “P-please do not punish me for being here!”

Aemond cannot help but give an amused smile at your panic. “It’s okay my lady!” He smiled, now standing up to be level with you only to embarrassingly realise you were taller then him… “What is it you were reading?”

You look confused now. Probably wondering why he isn’t kicking you out and demanding your head for sneaking in. “It is not a trick question my lady. What is you were reading?”

“I was reading about your own dragon my prince…” Aemond had to strain his ears to hear what you said, but when he does his ears turn scarlet. You were specifically looking at his dragon and not Sunfyre or Caraxes? Even the book of Balerions journey could’ve been the one you were reading about but no, you chose to look into Vhagar. It made him smile almost cockily.

“And why my dragon in particular?” He grinned. If his mother was there she’d not be happy he was fishing for compliments from a Lannister, yet she wasn’t here at that moment to see the pride that filled him so he carried on anyways.

“She’s an important part of your family’s history! Her nickname is Queen of the dragons which is one of the best names for any of the dragons both still alive and dead!” The way you ramble about his dragons makes his ears burn and smile somehow both bashful and yet cocky at the same time.

Aemond nearly invites you to go meet Vhagar the moment he sees you begin to smile at him, though it takes all his restraint to just talk to you about Vhagar. The two of you become more and more passionate in your conversation and continue to talk until the shelves become dark and nearly impossible to see.

Aemond insists on escorting you to your temporary chambers, secretly relishing when you insist bashfully that you could very easily escort yourself. “I insist my lady you do not know the sort of people that hang around in the corridors of this castle. My brother being one of them…” He relishes even more when he hears you giggle and shyly accept his offer.

The next morning though, when he’s washed himself thoroughly and dressed himself as fancy as he could without Aegon picking up on his intentions, Aemond walks to your chamber doors and knocks nervously. For all he knows you could be half dressed, or still asleep, or even taking a bath… He’s only half sorry when his mind begins to wonder.

Aemond does begin to worry when he stands outside of your chambers for nearly ten minutes and he hears no movements. He takes a deep breath before heading into your chambers, and takes notice of its near pristine state. “My lady?” He calls, even though he knew secretly that it was useless to call for you. He does a little walk around the room to see if he could tell why your presence seems to have left the room.

The sheets and the bed covers are pulled tightly and tucked into the bed. The personal items Aemond had managed to get a small peek at when he brought you to your room last night looking as if they were never their in the first place. The room looked as if nobody had ever slept their that night.

The lack of life in the room made Aemonds skin crawl. Maybe you weren’t even there in the first place? A cruel figment of his imagination that made him believe for a short time he was normal. So he went to the first person he thought could help. His mother.

“Mother, I visited the Lannister daughter this morn to invite her to break fast with us, but she was not there and her room was empty. Do you know why this is?”

“Yes my sweet boy. The girl and her father were summoned back to Casterly Rock near late last night. It seems the lady Lannister had started her labours earlier than the maesters would have liked.” His mother said, looking to her son in sympathy when she saw the saddened look on his face.

“Do you know if she- I mean if they’ll return when her mother has given birth?” Aemond could not help but try and be hopeful, even if he knew their was no chance of it being anything like that.

“I doubt it, sweet boy. The mother has gone into labour nearly a month earlier than expected. I highly suspect the babe may not survive, so they will no doubt wish to mourn the child if it does pass.”

Aemond tried to stop the frown that he could feel was stretching on his face, though it was no use. His mother had already seen it and was looking at him like he was weak. Like he was a silly boy with just a silly crush on a silly girl.

That was the moment Aemond devoted himself to leaving that silly boy behind. Soon he’ll become a man. Maybe it was all secretly so you’ll want to marry him just as much as he secretly wishes to marry you… but he’ll never admit to that.

It’s been six years since Aemond last saw you. He secretly writes letters to you every week, imagining you receiving them and holding them to your chest in excitement. He has never forgotten you. Late at night when he goes to sleep he secretly always wishes for dreams of you to keep him company. None that are dirty of course! Though Aemond didn’t complain when he had one every once in a while…

“Aemond did you hear what I just said?” His mothers voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“No mother I was thinking about, things.”

“Well, as I was saying. We will be hosting the Lannisters for a ball for their eldest daughter starting next week. Her father wishes for her to stay here in kingslanding for a year to give her a better chance at finding a potential and acceptable suitor for her. I believe she’s around your age Aemond...” Aemond could feel his heart beating out of his chest. You were coming back here? He’ll finally get to see you again and see how much you’ve no doubt changed after all these years…

“A marriage with the Lannisters will no doubt be helpful in the long run. I suggest talking to her before anyone else. Her house is a useful ally, though her father will no doubt attempt to go for whoever possess the larger coin pouch.” His grandsire commented halfheartedly as he tucked into his food. Aemond only gave a simple nod before retreating back to his mind, indulging in the simple fantasy of seeing you again.

The rest of that week, Aemond could not take you out of his mind. He had not acted like this since you left six years ago, and it was easy to tell. He was less enthusiastic in his training with ser Cole, thinking of how when you were his bride you’d be sitting proudly on the balcony watching him. He couldn’t read peacefully in the library, only thinking back to how he first met you and how much you truly made him smile that day.

Thankfully to Aemond though the week went surprisingly quickly, and before Aemond knew it he was standing proudly yet nervously for your carriage to pull up and for you to come out.

He’d put on fresh clothes that morning and requested to have a bath drawn for him. He took an awful long time making sure every single part of him was clean and that his hair held no sweat or grease of any kind. Aemond could not shake the look of amusement from both Aegon and his mother, both taking notice of Aemonds sudden pristine condition and nervous exterior.

When the carriage carrying your house colours arrived, Aemond felt like his heart would beat out of his chest. Would you even recognise him? Would you even be the same girl he met and talked to all those years ago?

Aemond nearly lets his mouth fall open when you walk out of the carriage, and only just catches the actions before he could embarrass himself anymore than Aegon will no doubt bring upon them.

Your hair still holds the same golden colouring to it, the sun looking like it was reflecting off it. Your figure has quite obviously changed in the years you were gone, the most prominent ones being the fact you’ve… matured. It’s almost amusing to him that you’re shorter than him, when before you were the one who looked down at him as children. Your smile though, that has not changed at all.

He sees the way Aegon leers at you when you curtsy to his mother and thank her for his families hospitality. It brings him such a great amount of joy to kick Aegon swiftly and firmly in the legs when your back is turned talking to Helaena.

Over the next few days, as much as Aemond hates to admit it, he has been hiding from you. Aemond cannot bring himself to strike up a conversation with you, possibly due to a fear that he refuses to acknowledge.

Though he cannot deny the jealousy that takes over him when he sees you laughing with Aegon of all people. When you laugh, you hold your hand in front of your mouth, a trick taught to all young ladies according to Helaena. Though he believes it to be a terrible thing, as it hides the way your face lights up when you’re overcome by laughter.

Aemond even finds himself jealous of Helaena, who you seemed to have grown close to in the last few days. From what he has observed, the two of you like to sit under the tree in the courtyard and discuss a whole manner of items Aemond cannot hear from where he observes on a nearby balcony.

He’s disgusted with himself for acting like some common man, though even though he knows it’s morally wrong he still cannot bring himself to stop. As long as he cannot bring himself to talk to you, he watches you to bring himself a strange sort of comfort. To know that you are okay and safe and nowhere near himself.

Though it seems that you have been upholding a different idea, as one moment when Aemond is looking at you talking with Helaena, he sees you turn to him, look him dead in the eye and show him a kind smile. He can feel his eye widen in the sudden acknowledgement and hide behind a nearby pillar. It brings secret relief to hear your giggle. Assuring him that you are not disgusted as he is in his nature, and that instead you are amused by it for some unknown reason…

Aemond looks around the corner, expecting to see you resuming your conversation with another one of your beautiful smiles on your face, though he is scared nearly out of his skin to find you face to face with himself. It takes him a near minute to find words. No amount of words that he had read over the years seemed to come to him no matter how much he willed it.

“I-I’m sorry for intruding on you my lady Lannister!” He stammered with a bright red face. Aemond does not think he has ever felt as sheepish or as shy as he has at that moment. His face only reddens though when you seem to giggle at him, whether in amusement or in mocking he does not know.

“It is fine my prince.” You smile. Aemond cannot help himself from comparing your voice to the one you possessed as a child. It’s gotten lighter, he thinks. Before you seemed to be shy to talk to him, though that may have been more to do with circumstances rather than who you were talking to, and now your voice held a sense of ease. “Me and your sister were merely nibbling on some honey cakes and talking about the silly things? Would you care to join us?”

When he takes too long to respond, purely out of surprise that you wished for him of all people to join you, you seem to have taken his silence in the wrong context. “You do not have to join if you do not wish to participate in silly lady gossip-“

“Nonsense!” Aemond blurts with a shyness that brings him nearly straight back to his boyhood. “I would be honoured to join a lady such as yourself my lady for what you called, silly lady gossip.” Aemond cannot describe the joy he feels when he sees your reddened cheeks and happy smile. It should be you the painters should be painting, not himself when there’s such obvious other beauties in this world.

The roles are reversed however, when you take his hand in your own and lead him to where you and Helaena were previously conversing. It takes every fibre of his being to not send a cold glare in Helaenas direction. Especially when she sends an amused look and a raised eyebrow his way at the sight of his flushed cheeks and awkward expression.

It surprises Aemond though, when he finds himself enjoying what he had thought would be a dreary conversation. It brings a smile to his face when he makes you laugh so hard you forget to put your hand in front of your face. He even nibbles politely on a couple of the fresh honey cakes you offer him bashfully.

When the supposed picnic is over, Aemond is prepared for you to go off with Helaena and leave him. Though it surprises him when Helaena says her goodbyes, claiming she has a duty she needs to fulfil, and you turn to him with a small sheepish smile. “Do you wish to head to the library with me, my prince? I feel it has been an age since we had a conversation.”

It brings every part of him to answer normally. “I would love to my lady.” With a small smile. One that he doesn’t think he’s ever displayed to anyone else outside his family. He’s delighted that you also share a similar blush that’s painted across both of your cheeks.

Aemond wishes he could start a conversation with you. Though whenever he turns to you all he finds himself doing is turning straight back to the corridor looking straight ahead.

When he and you get to the library, he shyly holds the door open for you to go first. Delighted in the slight blush that appeared at his politeness. He notices how you seem to look around in awe and is delighted that you seem to hold the same love for books as you did as children.

“The library has expanded since the years you have been gone, my lady. I believe near a few hundred couple books were added since.” Aemond smirked. It was a strange get definitely not an unwelcome sight to see someone be as passionate about literature as he did. It easily became a bore when he had to handle people like his brother, who he doubted at this point of his life could even read at all…

“It’s still as beautiful as it looked the last time I saw it…” You whispered, looking at him in an awe. Aemond cannot help himself from wishfully thinking that you were saying that to him. That you’d whisper into his ear how you believe he’s beautiful even after all those years apart.

He’s soon knocked from those blissful thoughts when a pain hits his eye socket and he hisses lightly, gaining your attention. “Are you alright my prince?” You asked in concern, moving to be before him.

“It is alright my lady…” Aemond hisses. “It’s merely a side effect of my deformity…”

“Is there any way I could help?” Aemond could not help but look up at you to see if you were genuine, and by the way you anxiously held a hand to his shoulder and knelt down to him to get a look at his injury he felt like you were.

“I have a balm which the maesters found to help when the pain flared like this…” Aemond cannot help himself from confessing. It felt so strange and unnatural to be talking so freely about his ailment with another person. Though you weren’t just another person. It was you. “It should be in my left breech pocket. If you would be so kind as to grab it for me, my lady, I can apply it myself.”

Aemond attempts to hide the way he gulps when he feels your warm hands on his thighs, fumbling to find the small tube containing the balm. It probably would’ve been more effective if he had told you what the balm was in, though at that moment he cannot stop himself from indulging in your touch as you modestly fumble for it. Even when you do find the tube and remove your hands from him he finds himself missing that small warmth. “Thank you, my lady.” He murmurs, releasing his hold on his eye to unscrew the tube lid.

He’s about to apply it to his eye, when Aemond realises something vital about the process. He’d need to take off his eyepatch, and you’re still in the room watching him concerned. “I’m about to take my eyepatch and I don’t wish for you to be disgusted and feel like you need to watch this…” Aemond cannot bring himself to look at you, in fear you’ll look as disgusted at the mention of looking at him without his patch.

He’s brought out of his self pity though when he feels a sudden warmth on his cheek. Your hand. It’s almost embarrassing the way his cheeks suddenly flush at the realisation.

“I don’t care about your scar, my prince. I have seen far worse from my brothers in the training field.” You smile. The blush on his cheeks does not seem to want to leave, though by the matching colouring that appears on your own cheeks he’s glad.

“You do not need to continue calling me my prince, my lady. You can call me by my name.”

“Okay Aemond. Then I must then insist you call me by mine.”

“If you say so Daena. Though like I said, if you truly do not wish to see my ailment then I suggest you turn away now…” Aemond cannot help himself from near preening at the honour of saying your name out loud in your presence.

“And like I said to you Aemond, you strike no such thing as disgust nor fear in me. In fact, I think I’d dare say what it is you strike me with are the exact opposite.” You smile, not realising just how effective your words were affecting him. Maybe if he was braver, then he would’ve asked exactly what you meant by that. But he didn’t. Instead, Aemond removed his eyepatch and applied the balm to his eye, before covering the area once more and acting like the moment never happened.

Over the next few days, Aemond spent all he could with you, abandoning all his previous plans so he could see you and make you smile. It still brought a chill down his spine to hear you speak his name while you smile and place a delicate hand on his arm. This new pattern that Aemond has developed though is broken, when he heads to your usual spot to find you conversing with Aegon. Or more accurately, Aegon conversing with you while you looked uncomfortable. It only gets worse when Aegon spots him marching towards him.

“Ahh brother! I was just telling lady Lannister all about the pink dread!” Aegon smiled with a cup of some unknown substance. Aemond felt his heart stop in panic. He does not dare to look in your direction, in fear he will see pity within your sweet green eyes. Aemond does not even dare to utter a response to Aegon’s taunt, leaving with his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he feared if he wasn’t clutching his hands, he’d be clenching his fists and punching Aegon’s face till it was shining red with blood.

When Aemond arrives in the library, he attempts to distract himself from his horrid self-pity by rereading one of his favourite pieces of literature, Valyrian dragons and where to find them. A fantastic book playing on both fiction and non. He becomes so enamoured with the writing he does not hear the doors open and delicate footsteps coming towards him. It’s only until he hears a small cough he looks up only to meet your eyes.

“Hello Lady Lannister. What brings you here? Has my brother either bored you of my childhood sorrow or run out of stories to tell?” Aemond scoffs, returning to the page on Dreamfyre.

“I though I told you to call me by my name Aemond?” You said, not moving from your spot.

“Apologies Daena. Tell me, did you enjoy when my brother was telling you tales of how he humiliated me as a boy?” Aemond closes the book, marking the page with a random piece of paper before looking at you.

“No, I must confess I did not. If I am to put it plainly and honestly Aemond, I believe your brother to be an absolute pest and a prat.” Aemond let’s a scoff of laughter at your unladylike language, though it certainly is correct.

“I cannot agree more with you Daena. It’s a surprise my brother has even lived till now. I believe any day well here such sad news on Aegon dying in some brother or ale house. Maybe both if he’s lucky?” Aemond cannot describe the joy he’s feeling, nor can he begin to fathom just how much his heart is racing.

“I think I walked about not long after you did. It took everything in me to not strike him there and then. Especially after seeing how unhappy you seemed to become when he mentioned that pink dread.” Aemond once again looks away at the mention of that dreaded tale. He cannot bring himself to see the pity once more than used to fill so many eyes at the sight of him.

“Do you, do you feel disgust for me? Or even pity?” Aemond murmurs so quietly he didn’t even know if you had truly heard him until you knelt down to be level with him.

“Aemond, I feel a lot of things for you. None of them are anything of the sort that could be even compared to disgust or pity.” You smile again and Aemond feels like his heart will burst from his chest. If you requested it at that moment, Aemond would’ve ripped his heart out then and there and handed it to you on a plate made of pure Valyrian steel. It takes everything in him to swallow the lump in his throat and speak. “May I ask what these emotions you feel for me are? The ones that you claim cannot be compared to disgust, or pity…”

“The feelings I feel for you Aemond are ones that I do not think I am even allowed to tell you of…”

“I do not care,” Aemond now almost desperately grasps onto your hands within his own. He is so close to possibly hearing what he has wanted for more than six years. Your love. “I would kill any who dare to oppose you sweet Daena.”

“You are beginning to sound like your ancestor Maegor the cruel Aemond.”

“It is worth the title and the bloodshed if I am to hear what I hope to hear be uttered from your lips.”

“And what is it you wish uttered from my lips?”

“That you feel a fraction of the same way I feel for you…” Aemond can feel his heart beat from his chest. The library has gone silent. A notion he used to enjoy but now hates more than ever. “Please Daena. Tell me what it is you feel for me so I can no longer feel like my heart is beating straight out of my chest when I see you! So I can no longer think of you as I have been doing for the last six years you have been gone! So I can leave you and never bother you again with my unrequited devotion for you…”

Once again the library’s silence becomes overwhelming as Aemond stares at you in both hope and fear. Your face does not betray you, staring only blankly at the intertwined hands of yours and his.

“What I feel for you Aemond, I think in all the books we have both read and the stories we have shared amongst each other, can only be described as pure devotion to you and only you…” This is when your face reveals a sweet sweet smile that sends Aemonds own face into a blood red blush. “I too thought of you, nearly everyday since my departure. Of that sweet boy who listened to me while I rambled on about a topic he already know plenty of yet still craved for more. That sweet boy who insisted on walking me to my chambers even though he did not have to. That sweet boy, who has grown into such a handsome man, that I think my heart grew fonder the moment I saw you when I stepped from my carriage. I must say though, I was disappointed that you did not send any letters to me in all these years.” You seem to jest.

“I didn’t want you to think of me as an eager boy and a prat…” Aemond reveals with a slight blush, looking down at the ground. It only worsens when he feels you take a hand from his grip and place it on his left cheek to tilt his head up. “I could never think of you like that my sweet Aemond…” He feels his face grow to a deeper red as it spreads all over. He can even feel his ears burning. He stays content in your hold though, Aemond does not think he has ever felt safer in your grasp than he ever felt in his life.

“I do not know if you read those sorts of books, Aemond,” You begin to speak, drawing Aemond from his daze. “But when I was younger and read those old romantic books where the man got the girl he loved, he’d always kiss her…” You grin. Aemond reciprocates it fully, picking up on your definitely not so subtle suggestion.

“Are you suggesting sweet Daena I kiss an unmarried woman in this very room, where there is no one but us?”

“No no my darling,” Aemond can feel his heart go mad at the name you give him. “I am simply asking you to kiss the woman who loves you back with all her heart.”

“Then I guess I have to make my darling love happy then.” Aemond wastes no time in reaching forward to grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. He relishes in the giggles you make for a moment before colliding his lips with your own.

It’s an awkward moment at first, since the two of you have never done this before, but eventually Aemond finds a pace that suits him and you. He finds himself letting out a deep groan from his throat when he tastes your sweet lips for the first time, the taste of strawberries and cherries overcoming his senses. That groan is released once more when he feels your hand make a place for itself in his hair and holding him firmly, Aemonds own hands staying in a near iron grip on your waist.

It is a great shame when he is forced to pull away from you, though he does get the great view of your swollen lips, red cheeks and panting form. “I believe I should talk to your father so I can get his permission to marry you, my sweet girl.” Aemond speaks, a hand removing itself from your waist to go to your face and stroke your warm cheek fondly.

“You truly wish to marry me?” You whisper, making Aemond raise a brow in surprise. “Of course I do. I would not be kissing you and finally confessing my love for you if I didn’t. Besides, the servants will no doubt talk if they are to see us alone here together and I would not wish to besmirch your honour like that.”

“I think that supposed honour left the moment your lips kissed my own…” You smile.

“Mine left the moment you smiled at me when we were children. I’ve never cared for another woman since… Are you truly happy? That I am to hopefully marry you?” Aemond asks, that insecurity creeping back in.

“Of course I am happy, my sweet boy.” You stroke the edge of his scar with your thumb and for the first time Aemond does not immediately jerk away at the contact. For once, he does not feel so ugly. For once he feels wanted and loved. “I would have no one else but you in my arms to love and cherish.”

[p-taryn-dactyl]

when fire meets fate

a/n: ok guys this isn't the best but i started writing at the library and this just came so easily so im just proud i wrote it word count: 2.1k warning(s): mentions of graphic injury/death - EXPOSITION SO MUCH OF IT - dialogue heavy - wrote this in a day im sorry for any mistakes - cheesy title and bad picture sorry :( prompt: agatha stumbles across someone unexpected in an ancient abandoned library on her search to learn more about the scarlet witch

Agatha simply wanted to investigate the magical trail she had been following for the past few weeks and now there was a knife being held to her throat. In her defense, she thought this library was long abandoned and had wanted to do some research. 

“Who are you?” Your voice shook with the effort to sound tough but Agatha could see the fear evident in you. Guess you didn’t have much experience holding people at knifepoint.

“What?” Your confused voice sounded, the knife pointed at Agatha’s throat slightly raising as your brow furrowed. Oops, she had said that out loud. Agatha simply laughed, raising a hand to lightly push the knife away, letting her magic swirl around her hands and in her eyes. You stumbled backwards, hand tightening around your knife, bringing it to more of a defensive pose. 

“You,” swallowing, you steadied yourself to appear composed in front of the witch, “You haven’t answered my question. Who are you? What do you want? How did you find this place?” Agatha chuckled again, pointing at you with a finger ignited with magic as she slowly approached you. 

“Now, I believe you only asked one of those previously, darling.” 

You felt your face grow warm at the name, internally scolding yourself. You wanted your questions answered, no matter how deflective this beautiful woma-witch became. Agatha passed you, her shoulder lightly brushing yours as she took in the state of the once great magical library. The giant bookshelves had been eaten away with termites, the wood sagging with the weight of the books. The books which were now covered in layers upon layer of dust and webs. But it wasn’t the state of the actual library that caught her eye. No, it was the makeshift bed made of the slightly sagging reading chairs and blankets eaten away by moths, pillows that looked older than Agatha. Bags of groceries, new and fresh, sat on a splintered reading table, a box of oatmeal cream pies open. You turned to where you now faced her back, your eyes trained on the purple magic still wrapping itself around Agatha’s arms and torso. If you squinted, you could’ve sworn you saw the witch’s palms and fingertips turning black. 

“You…live here?” Her voice echoed in the silence between the two of you. She turned to face you, one eyebrow raised. But the answer to her question was obvious, whereas yours still hung in the air unanswered. In a huff, you sheathed your knife on your hip and crossed your arms, glaring at the witch. 

“Seriously, who are you? And why do you,” you gestured to the magic surrounding her, “glow?” 

Agatha let out an actual laugh that bounced off the walls of your home, raising her arms in a surrendering position. 

“Okay, okay.” 

Making her way to where your makeshift bed laid in the middle of the library, Agatha took a seat in one of the unoccupied seats, wincing at how it sagged in the middle and the old fabric staples dug into her arms and legs. 

“The name is Agatha Harkness, lovely to meet you dear. And for the glowing,” she finger quotes, “I’m sure in this day and age you can recognize magic.” 

You glared at the slight taunt, cautiously coming to sit in the chair opposite Agatha. But she was right, your question was a bit stupid considering how much people saw of Doctor Strange and the other superpowered Avengers. Superpowers, something in your mind clicked and you leaned forward, stabilizing yourself on your elbows as you stared at the witch. Agatha blinked at the sudden intensity. 

“Wow, you really want me to answer your questions. Fine, but only if you answer a few of mine.” 

You nodded, you had an idea of what she would ask you and it was a perfect way for you to get answers of your own. Agatha adjusted in her seat, her discomfort visible on her face. 

“I can’t quite say what I want per say, however I’m here to simply do some reading. It’s a library after all. Now, as to how I found this place…” She trailed off, her blue eyes boring into you, matching your intensity. You wanted to look away, the eye contact intense and intimate in a way it shouldn’t be with a woman you just met, but you didn’t. Apparently this was the right choice as Agatha smirked slightly and continued talking. 

“I’m almost positive I’ve known about this place longer than you’ve been alive, sweetheart.” Damn this woman and her pet names, your heart was too vulnerable and you already felt a crush beginning to form. Agatha leaned back in the chair like it was a throne she had rightfully claimed, all traces of discomfort gone. 

“Now, I believe it’s my turn to ask questions.” Her eyes never left yours and you felt pinned in place as you gave a slight nod. 

“Why are you here? A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be so hidden from the world.” 

Damn, damn, damn, you couldn’t handle another compliment, you couldn’t stop the heat from rising in your cheeks. You finally broke eye contact to fiddle with the ring on your middle finger. It was one your dad had made from a kit he had bought online. You still remember the kid-like joy in his eyes as he gave it to you, proud of the slightly hideous creation. Tears built up in your eyes and you willed them away. You wouldn’t cry in front of Agatha, not as your first impression. 

“I have nowhere to go, I stumbled across this place and decided it was better than nothing.” 

Agatha just stared at you before she spoke, her words a monotone disbelief. 

“You just stumbled across an ancient underground library hidden in a labyrinth-like cave?” 

Agatha caught the slight flinch before you laughed, nodding as you leaned to grab an oatmeal cream pie, opening the wrapper just to hold the sweet in your hands as you stared at it. 

“Come on now, there’s more to this story and I’m curious. Spill!” She clapped her hands together, a mug of steaming tea appearing in her hands and a soft blanket surrounded your shoulders. The chairs you sat on weren’t as uncomfortable anymore and Agatha brought her legs up like a little girl listening to a great story. You almost wanted to laugh at the imagery, this woman growing on you in the short time you’ve known each other. 

“Can’t you like,” you wiggled your fingers at your temple, “find out yourself?” 

Agatha gasped, bringing the hand that wasn’t holding the tea to practically grasp her pearls. 

“I’m aghast you would think I would invade your privacy. Now spill your guts to me, stranger.” 

It was at that moment you realized you hadn’t shared your name. 

“I’m Y/N.”

“No last name?”

“Not anymore,” you muttered under your breath, “No, no last name.” 

Agatha merely conceded, gesturing for you to continue. You took a breath, silently wondering how holding a knife to an intruder led to an impromptu therapy session. 

“I was left by the entrance of the tunnels,” you started strong, enjoying Agatha’s reaction. Her body tensed and she leaned forward slightly, close to spilling her tea. “It was after a doctor's appointment, I was so confused because they called my parents. My parents! I’m an adult for crying out loud, that had to break a law or something. Anyways, I had some blood drawn and after the tests were finished,” you paused, looking at the skin on your arm where the needle had pierced it, “The doctors and nurses started to look at me weird. I was brought to a secluded room, where my parents were waiting. My mom looked angry but my dad, my dad looked devastated.” You had started to choke up so you paused, looking anywhere but Agatha. You supposed it felt nice to let all this out, afterall, you still didn’t understand what was really happening to you or why it was happening. 

“Apparently, they found something in my blood, something rare and dangerous. To add insult to injury, the only place in the world which could help me learn about it shut down decades ago and then, ha, ironically caught on fire.” 

Agatha looked at you skeptically, swirling the now cold tea in its mug. 

“Why is that ironic?” 

Instead of answering, you looked at her tea and stood up. 

“Is that cold?” 

She nodded slowly, confused as to why the temperature of her tea mattered. You held out a hand and she gave you the mug, her face perplexed. For a moment, you just looked at the dark liquid, rocking the cup slightly in your hands, feeling the tea barely touch the rim, almost spilling. Then, you concentrated, willed the tea to do what you wished. 

“Um, what are you-?” 

Steam started rising from the mug and you handed it back to Agatha, who winced when her palms touched the ceramic. You went back to your seat and held your palm out towards the ceiling. Agatha just watched, passing the mug in between her hands. A small flame ignited in the center of your palm, slowly growing larger until you brought up your other hand to morph the flame into a sphere. 

“Of course, when they found the mutated gene in my DNA they didn’t know what it really would change. Not until it manifested.” 

“How did it manifest?” 

You knew the question was coming, you knew you had led the story to this yet you didn’t want to relive that moment again. But you had started telling Agatha and for some reason you didn’t want to stop. 

“I went to my parents house after the appointment. My mom was screaming about how she couldn’t raise a freak, how the x-gene better not be noticeable once it emerged. My dad stayed quiet, silently collecting everything he deemed his from the living room. I don’t know when my mom noticed what he was doing, I was just frozen on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen. Then they both were screaming and I had noticed the temperature in the room was heating up,” You hated this next part, hated how it haunted your sleep but you had to keep going, “It got too hot. Things were melting, bubbling, and boiling everywhere, including my parents. When the screaming stopped, I got up from the couch, and they were behind me on the floor, unrecognizable. I think that’s when the actual fire started. I don’t remember much, just the smell of the smoke as it surrounded me and the sound of the police and firefighters. There were other men at the scene who took me, they were wearing suits and earpieces, very out of place for a house fire. Figured out pretty quickly that they worked for the government, S.H.I.E.L.D, or something because they kept talking to each other about mutants, inhumans, Skrulls, whatever they are. I guess they thought I was too in shock to understand. But then they tied up my hands and feet and left me at the front of the tunnels. Obviously I got out of the restraints but I knew what leaving me behind meant. I’m dead to the world.” 

Agatha stayed silent for a few moments, blinking at you in shock. You laughed nervously, putting out the ball of fire that was dancing between your hands as you talked. 

“Sorry, that was too much too soon.” 

Agatha shook her head. 

“No I asked, all you did was answer. How long have you been here?” 

“A few months. I couldn’t risk using mine or my parents bank account so I kinda took a credit card from a lady who definitely won’t miss it or see the charges. I know this because nothing has happened yet.” 

Agatha shook her head again, this time almost in a scolding way. You didn’t like her being disappointed in you but you weren’t ready to accept why yet.  

“No that just won’t do,” she exclaimed as she stood up, setting her tea down and clapping her hands together, “You’re obviously in need of a teacher and, quite frankly, any company at all. You’ll come with me!” 

You laughed in disbelief, also standing. 

“Oh am I? You’ve just decided?” 

Agatha nodded, coming to stand close to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. She started walking towards the entrance-slash-exit of the library, her grip tight. 

“Plus, I like you,” your heart fluttered a bit at her words, letting Agatha walk you through the tunnels. You didn’t notice her magic behind you gathering your things in a seemingly endless suitcase, “This’ll be fun!”

“Wait, didn’t you need to do some reading?” You ask, concerned. Agatha chuckled and patted your arm. 

“Oh don’t worry dear, I got what I needed. Now, how do you feel about New Jersey?”

[oneweirdbookaddict]

Hello, Whyareyoudo! (I didn't know if you wanted the tag lol) Finally got this written out for you, hope it's alright! It was so interesting to research Tourette's as I wrote this. Thanks for the request!

1182 words.

No warnings! Let me know if that should change!

~~~~

“Shh!” Four hisses, expression pinching. 

Those closer to Four frown at the smithy. 

“Four? You… uh, ok?” Wind asks, glancing at his friend. 

The smith blinks awkwardly, ears flushing. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry, just ignore me.” 

“Were you shushing someone?” Wild asks curiously. 

“No. Nope. Just… making noise. Sorry. I’ll shut up.” And they let it go. No more questions are asked, and Four doesn’t make any more unexplainable noises. 

However, he does keep twitching oddly, wincing as if… he’s in pain. First, his arm twitches, moving halfway to his chest before the smith scowls and moves it back down. Then randomly ticks his head to the side. 

He watches carefully until Four catches him and scowls. “What?” 

“You have tourettes.” He states simply. Not an accusation, not a question. Just puts it out there. 

Four pauses. “I have- I… What? No. I mean…” The smith trails off. Blinks. 

Then settles on, “How the hell do you know that?” 

“Because I have it, too.” He says easily. Shrugs when Four’s eyes go wide. 

“Wait, ok, hold up. What’s tour- ett’s?” Wild frowns. “Can we help?” 

“Tourettes.” Four says. “Its a neurological-” 

“It affects the nervous system and makes it so you make movements and noises you don’t mean to.” He says before Four can launch into an overly complicated, full science report-sounding explanation. 

“And you both have it?” Twi says, looking interested. 

“Well, I do. And I think Four does, too.” 

“Wait so like when you swear randomly you don’t even mean to?” Wind asks. 

He considers this. “Sometimes. But now you’ll never know which ones I do purposefully so you’ll never be able to tell me off, Old Man.” 

That gets some laughter into the group, easing the awkwardness that had developed. 

Four, he notices, doesn’t even smile. 

He seems deep in thought, biting his lip in that way he does when he’s thinking. Or maybe it’s another tic. 

“I don’t think I do.” Four says finally, slowly. “It’s not always the same, it’s just random little… movements. Aren’t tics more… repetitive?” 

“Sure, sometimes. Not always, though. There are other types… but I’m not gonna get too deep into that. Mine were like that, yeah, but I also know someone who’s also diagnosed and his are more like yours. It’s just rarer, I think.” 

Four considers this, then nods slowly. “I’ll have to do some research, I think. It’d be nice to…” 

The smith’s eyes snap to him. “You said were. Past tense. It went away?” 

“It did for me. Well, not entirely. It just… got much less frequent as I got older. It doesn’t happen for everyone.” 

Four nods, fingers twitching. Then shrugs somewhat awkwardly. 

He shrugs, too, feeling bad for putting him on the spot. “We should keep going. I smell rain.” 

So they continue down the path. 

~~~~

They find a town before the rain comes, and an inn as well. With enough rooms open that they all get their own- a rare occurrence. 

Since they’re inside with the rain, Wild and Wars just pass out rations for dinner and they all take to their rooms. 

It’s been a rough few days, and they all go to bed rather early. 

Or so he thought. He wakes up to the door next to his creaking open, soft footsteps fading as they move down the hall. 

He waits a few minutes, then goes in search of the smithy with a sigh.

Out the inn, wandering aimlessly around town for a bit to give Four some alone time, then stumbles across the library in town.

Four, naturally, is buried in a stack of books, eyes slightly crossed as he fixates on the one under his nose. 

“Smithy, it is three in the goddamn morning.” He grunts, and Four jumps and drops the book. 

“Librarian said it was ok.” Four yawns, finding his page again. 

“Wasn’t my point. You even gonna try to sleep tonight?” 

“How can I?” Four mutters. It’s not sharp, not angry, but he still winces anyway. 

“I’m sorry for… I don’t know. You know it doesn’t matter if you do, right? It’s not going to fix the tics or change… well, anything, really. There’s no way to treat-” Four closes the book and shoots him a look. “I don’t have Tourette's and we both know that. I would’ve had these tics since childhood and I haven’t, they’re not nearly repetitive enough to be considered tics, and-” Four sighs. “I know what causes it. Something that happened on my adventure. I appreciate you giving me an out, but I feel awful for lying.” 

He takes a seat next to the smith. “You don’t have to lie. Just…” 

“Lead them to believe the wrong thing,” Four says flatly. 

“You did with Wolfie.” He counters, and Four winces. 

“That’s different. It was his secret.” 

“And this is yours. Listen, you don’t want to tell people about whatever this is. I get it. But they’re gonna ask- letting them believe this will stop the questions. Otherwise, they’ll just keep asking. Not with the intent of prying of course, but just out of curiosity. And that’ll make it worse. Maybe every once and a while you get a question about Tourette’s, but that’ll be it. If you keep deflecting questions they’ll keep asking.” 

Four looks away, considering this. Then nods. “Thanks, Legend.” 

He smiles, getting to his feet. “Anytime, Smithy. Now get some sleep- you look beat. Come back to the inn with me.” Four looks around, nodding. “I just… gotta put all these away first.” 

Gives a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. 

He laughs, helping the smith put the books back on the shelves, then walking with him back to the inn. 

“Goodnight, smithy.” He says as Four enters his room. 

“Night, Leg.” Four yawns, giving a slight wave as he closes the door. 

~~~~

Four raises his arms above his head, stretching as he walks up to the lake. 

Walks up to Wild, who’s standing at the very very end of the dock, just his heels hanging on. 

A strong gust of wind would put him in the lake. 

“Whatcha looking at?” The smithy asks, and Wild shrugs. 

“Just trying to see if there’s any fish in here.” 

“So you can bomb them?” Four snickers, and Wild scowls playfully. 

“It’s more efficient than sitting there with a worm on a string!” The champion insists, laughing. Four peers at the water, then points at a spot. 

“I think I see some there.” 

Wild crouches, squinting. “Where?” “Over- shit.” 

Four’s arm twitches, knocking into Wild’s back. 

The champion flails frantically, grabbing-

SPLOOSH. 

The others on the land burst into laughter as Wild surfaces, staring in surprise and offense at Forur. “Smithy! I did nothing to you! Well, besides the peppers… and the tomatoes… ok, maybe I deserved that.” Wild sighs, laying back to float in the water. 

“Sorry,” Four shrugs, but he can’t keep the grin off of his face. “Tourette’s.” 

Wild sends a splash of water at the smith, causing Four to laugh and dart back to the safety of dry land.

~~~~

[lewkwoodnco]

Ok would you consider writing more for George?? (shamelessly on an Ali kick atm if you couldn’t tell, this is @bobbys-not-that-small). If I was in the LnCo universe I think I’d be a librarian with little or no talent because I’m too jumpy and scared to be an agent. I’d wanna be a librarian who sometimes bends the rules for the agents who stay really late researching by bringing them a cup of tea or a snack 😊

After Hours - George Karim x Reader

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

a/n: asjfhfjlfh thank youuu to @bobbys-not-that-small for helping me get out of my writing slump!! this palate cleanser was exactly what I needed <3 decided to try smth new with the presentation of my fics wooooo but am having issues with the keep reading divider so this might be a little inconvenient to scroll past :( alsoooo may have gotten a little carried away here hehehe woops

warnings/tropes: snippy George (is there rlly any other kind tho) needs his biscuits, mild angst, happy ending, slight enemies to almost-lovers, fluff!

word count: 2.7k

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Lockwood was standing over the kettle in the kitchen, half-asleep. Lockwood & Co.’s latest case was a bit more complex than they were used to, which meant that George needed a few extra days to properly research it. That meant that his and Lucy’s sleep schedule had started to settle down into one that was more typical - one where Lockwood was struggling to stifle his yawns in the middle of the night.

He hears some sounds coming from the hallway, and registers them half a second later. He picks up the nearest weapon he can find, a whisk, and tries to call out to the intruder, but his throat is so dry it’s more of a wheeze. The kitchen door inches open, and Lockwood poises to attack, before he pauses and squints at the figure in the doorway.

“George?”

George walks in, putting down his bag and jacket on one of the dining table chairs. “Thought you’d be asleep, Locky.”

“What’s this, a midnight stroll?”

“Sure.”

Lockwood blinked at the kitchen clock blearily. “It’s a hour to dawn.” As George shuffles about the kitchen, fixing his own cup of tea, a thought flits through his sleep-addled brain. “Hang on.” He opens his eyes even further, taking in how fully dressed George is, and starts putting two and two together. “Don’t tell me you’ve only just returned from the Archives.”

“Your hand’s in the milk jug. Again.”

Lockwood glances down and swears. George slips out of the kitchen with Lockwood's tea and biscuit, and he's just awake enough to notice.

“Hey, hey, it’s not your turn on the biscuit roster!”

But George was too content to care much about that. He had finally gotten a satisfactory day's worth of research which quelled the buzzing in his brain, if only for a couple of hours. As he settled into bed, his thoughts wandered to the librarian from earlier.

He had been so engrossed in his reading that he didn't notice anyone was standing over him until the sharp tap on his shoulder. When he did look up, he flinched terribly from the shock. In all fairness, she had been extremely apologetic.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to let you know that we're closing soon."

George slowly scanned the library, only just realising that the Archives had completely emptied. It was just the two of them and their voices echoing up to the high ceilings of the room. He half-formulated a response for a moment, but then realised this was his ideal situation, and turned back to his book.

There was another insistent tap on his shoulder and he glanced up to see a firmer set to the librarian's features.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear enough just now. We're closed."

"Okay," he murmured, still half-absorbed in his book. She sighed exasperatedly.

"Look, Mr. ..." she trailed off, and George stared back at her unhelpfully. She spied his name scrawled at the top of his notes, which he was too slow to shift out of sight. "...Karim."

"You're good at reading upside down."

"Thank you, it's one of my many talents. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I still have to ask you to leave."

"What if I said you were really good at reading upside down?"

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Mr. Karim."

"Please, you don't need to address me by my surname." If the reddening of her face was any indication, he was right in guessing that he hadn't been able to snag his first name from the sheet.

"...I'm good, but not that good. My point, Mr. Karim, is that you have to leave."

He hummed noncommitally. She frowned. “Now you’re just being mean.”

George fought the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes.

“What can I say? You make it so easy.”

"I'll let you borrow an extra book."

"Hmm."

"Two extra books."

After that, they went around in circles for a while, before she stormed of. As the sun continued to set, she started switching off the lights. Even in the dark, he could feel her eyes burning into the back of his skull. He pulled out a few candles and lit them, just in time to illuminate her scowl as she irritatedly walked past him. She returned from her desk a moment later, her face stony.

"I'll ban you from the library if you don't leave right now."

"By all means." Her mouth shrivelled like she had just tasted something bitter, and he knew he had called her on her bluff.

"I'll revoke your borrowing privileges."

"Yes, because not letting me take books home is exactly how you'd get me to leave the library."

"I'll...I'll set the fantasy section visitor on you."

He didn't even look up from his book. "Give him my regards."

He paid dearly for his tongue-in-cheek a few minutes later, when he was smacked by a puff of icy mist, sudden enough to make him splutter with shock.

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

"You...liked that." She echoed him tonelessly.

He tried to muster up as much dignity as he could while feeling like his face was about to freeze off. "Mhm. Refreshing. Might go as far as to invite you to do it again."

She scoffed, slamming the spray bottle down in surrender.

"Fine. You win. But if you set anything on fire, so help me I will- hang on, I've got a lantern in here somewhere." With that, George watched her drift away distractedly, still mildly damp. He wondered how long he had to wait before asking for something to dry his glasses with.

For the next week, the librarian tolerated his odd hours, and George liked to think that she was coming around. She found out his first name from his library pass the next day, he found out how far he could push it with the late hours. Really, they were almost friends. He liked to think that especially after the night where he got hit in the face by something in a brown paper bag.

"Accidental pastry delivery," the librarian was saying, over the crinkle of the paper bag. "They wouldn't take it back and I've already stuffed myself the best I could."

George peered into the bag to see a deliciously flaky tart and a soft, powdered doughnut. He looked up to see her walking away, and was momentarily distracted by her odd shuffle. It took him a moment to realise she had a slight limp, as if she was carrying some dead weight. But when she returned, holding a tea tray and a viciously folded notebook, all thoughts about her limp flew out of his head. He wouldn't have thought to find such charmingly delicate fine china in a library, of all places.

"How much sugar do you take in your tea?" George blinked, still processing the pastries. She set a cup of tea in front of him, and he decided that it had just the right amount of sugar. She sat down opposite him and poured her own cup of tea, before scratching away at what he could now see was a crossword puzzle.

"Crosswords?"

She arched an eyebrow. "There's only so many books you can read in a day."

"Yes, but...crosswords?"

"You wouldn't believe how fun they are. For instance, right now I'm looking at a six-lettered word for 'nuisance.'"

That shut him up rather quickly. But over the next couple of nights, accident or otherwise, she always joined him for a cup of tea and a little treat once everyone else had cleared out.

And so a rhythm was established. On most nights, their limited conversation rarely strayed away from the tired topics that were which pastry he wanted, how late it was getting, and if he knew a five-letter word of only consonants for 'the immature form of an insect.' But he always wondered about her on the walk home, though he could never quite figure out how to ask. It was on a particularly uninteresting night that he got the answers to these half-formed questions.

He was doing his research, as usual, and she was sitting opposite him, pouring over a crossword puzzle, as usual, when he realised he needed a different volume. She barely stirred as he left the table, silently scratching away at the rough paper. Her stock still image lingered in his mind’s eye. There was something off about her today. She was a little more distracted than normal, and the abnormality unpleasantly reminded George of how little he knew about her. She was always just...there, hovering about, no matter how late it was. Didn't she have a family waiting up for her?

He returned to find her eyes fixed on his scribbled half-thoughts, as if intently deciphering his upside-down scrawls. She jerked back as he set the book down, eyes flitting nervously, almost guiltily.

"You took your time. Thought you got lost back there."

He opened his book with a deliberate slowness, as she fiddled with her pen. When he didn't respond, the forced cheeriness in her voice faded, as her eyes drifted back to his papers.

"Terribly exciting, isn't it? Being an agent."

"S'pose."

"I wanted to be one, when I was younger. Much younger."

The edge to her voice was subtle but unmistakable. He didn't like the way it grated unpleasantly against his ears.

"So how'd you end up here?"

"My talent never really blossomed. Good thing, too; I'd be all thumbs with a rapier anyway."

He frowned. "Hang on. How much can you see, exactly?"

"It's like...like a mist? Sometimes I miss them entirely."

"But you stay out so late past curfew."

"I know. I just try to walk home quickly enough. It's worked out so far."

George glanced at the flaky tart and the repulsively sugary, deep red jam glistening up at him, almost quivering in the flickering candlelight. His appetite was suddenly feeling a little funny.

"Nymph."

"Hm?"

"Five letters, no vowels. Nymph."

She glanced at her crossword, giving a small hum of approval. "So it is."

"But you already knew that."

"Did I?"

Her voice took on a mildly dispirited tone, but it was enough to signal her fading interest in the conversation. His prodding felt frustratingly futile - even now, there was so much of her shrouded in the shadows, shrouded in mystery. He didn't know what to do, or what to say, and he didn't like it. Suddenly, he wasn't sure how much he believed her, something she seemed to pick up on.

"Look, I'm too much of a live wire to be an agent. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"It’s getting late,” he said softly, and the words felt foreign on his tongue, for someone who never cared about the time. His voice sounded distant even to his own ears. But she had already returned to her crossword.

Days passed, and the awkward night was forgotten. They continued growing closer and getting more familiar with each other, if at a snail's pace. One night, she had used up the last teabag for George's tea and waved off his insisting that she have the tea, instead opting for a drink that looked suspiciously alcoholic.

As George expected, she was a little past tipsy by the time they were done, and he lingered behind worriedly as she fumbled to lock up. He walked with her a little further than he normally did, occasionally tipping her upright when she got too giggly.

"Where did you say you lived, again?" George tried to keep his tone nonchalant, hoping she wouldn't realise she never said it a first time. She vaguely pointed ahead, speaking thickly, but he couldn't quite decipher her slurred words. Rolling her eyes exasperatedly, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed her face flush against his as she repeated herself, gesturing wildly with her other arm.

"Two blocks down, then a left, walk another block, then a right, and it's the third door on your right. 51 South Street. There's honeysuckle all over the door, you can't miss it."

She tilted her head sideways, lips brushing his cheekbone. He didn't dare to breathe.

"I can take it from here. Don't think I'll be forgetting this in the morning."

She let go of him as smoothly as she hap clasped herself to him, walking ahead briskly with only minimal stumbling.

"Night, Georgie!" Yes, she must be quite well past tipsy. He watched her till she turned the corner, and almost reluctantly turned to walk home himself.

"Where's Y/N?"

George didn't mean to be impolite, but when there was a different librarian handing him his day pass the following week, he didn’t know how else to respond.

“Miss L/N’s called in sick this morning. But I’d be happy to help you with any of your Archives needs.”

The Archives felt frustratingly foreign that day. He hadn’t realised how comforting her lingering had been, to feel rather than see her wandering through the aisles just feet from him. The Archives’ closing was enough to chase him out a few hours later.

He started on the beaten path back to 35 Portland Row, before pausing. He turned, looking at the roads behind him, softly lit up by the fading rays of the setting sun. She couldn’t live that far. Just a block, or maybe two, then…was it a right?

Haltingly, he walked forward, looking this way and that amongst the tall houses which were all beginning to look worryingly identical. But she was right. 51 South Street did stick out with the heavily perfumed buttercup-yellow honeysuckle framing the door. That, and the girl smoking on the front steps of the house.

She glanced up from the gravel she was staring at as he drew closer, staring at him with cloudy eyes until she finally seemed to register him.

“…George! You’re - what? Did something happen?”

“You tell me.”

She fiddled with the ends of her hair with her free hand distractedly. “Oh. I’m alright. My leg was feeling a little bad in the morning, so I called in sick.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

“I’m not. It just helps with the pain.”

“For now. For an hour. You know it’s only making it worse in the long run.”

She either coughed or laughed, he couldn’t tell. He watched her breath smoke like sighs, in silence.

"I used to be an agent. And I wasn’t half bad at it, either. But I tripped up, once…lost half the nerves in my left leg. After the ghost touch, my Sight-” she pressed a hand to her eyelids, trembling for something grieved. “My Sight…it was never the same again. I tried to stay on for a while, but it was so difficult, and so painful for everyone…so I left. I couldn’t do anything with my hip connected to this…dead weight.” She tapped her cigarette experimentally, ash snowing over her shoe. “I’m dead weight, Karim.”

He wanted to comfort her, but he was never the comforting type.

“You miss it.”

“I do. I love the Archives, but…I feel like I’m part of everyone’s life, except for my own. I don’t feel like my own person. I felt so…alive as an agent. Like I’d burst into flames at any minute, as if I had that much more life which the visitors didn’t have.”

George knew the type. He lived with the type.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad you didn’t. Burst into flames, I mean.”

She half smiled into the palm she was resting her chin on. “Aww, Georgie.”

George coughed awkwardly, starting to drift away now that she was clearly feeling better. He recognised that teasing look on her face a little too well. “Okay, you’re alright now.”

“Did you oh so miss me today?”

“That’s enough out of you.”

“Not getting fond of me, are you Georgie?”

The back of his neck flamed red. She was definitely alright now.

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[the-little-ewok]

Push

Jake Lockley x F!reader (Lesser Marc Spector X reader / Steven Grant X reader )

Rating : M

Word count: 3500 (ish)

Warnings : Platonic relationship with hints that more may come (Jake), established romantic relationship (Marc/Steven), DID, divorce mentions, lil bit angsty, lil bit fluffy, lil bit jealousy, mention of voyeuristic intentions

Summary : Set within the Tilt/Balance universe the reader finally meets Marc and Stevens third alter. But Jake has been watching for some time…

A/N : I am not a system, nor do I know anyone who is a system. What is contained here is based solely on my research, the MK show and comics, and is not intended to cause any offence.

To the anon who requested I hope you enjoy. Sorry if it came out a bit boring

A/N 2 : Reading Tilt / Balance will give you a bit of background to these characters but it isn't exactly necessary to enjoy this.

A/N 3 : While listed as F/reader due to the universe it's set in, this can be read as G/N reader also

~

"Sorry I'm late!" You shout, bursting into the flat, kicking off your shoes. "I swear give me five minutes and I'll be ready!"

You rush past Marc as you run to the bedroom, grabbing your outfit from your bag, already knowing that the chances of making your table reservation are slim given the traffic in London on a Friday night.

As you throw it down on the bed something makes you pause. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up and when it does you groan.

"You cooked?" You whine as you inhale the delicious smell of food from the kitchen. "Marc, you didn't have to cook. I know I'm a bit late but we can still go out."

Turning to complain at him you pause, taking in the man standing in the sitting room, surrounded by Stevens books, wearing Marc's t-shirt and pants, looking at you with a smug smile and raised eyebrows. The man who wears your boyfriend's face, but isn't him.

The realisation sinks in quickly of who you are looking at causing your heart to thunder in your chest and your mouth go dry.

"Jake?

He nods in confirmation taking a step towards you, one you mirror by stepping back.

Marc has told you very little of Jake, only that he isn't sure he's ready for you both to meet, still getting to grips with knowing his third alter himself.

You assumed Jake already knew of your existence, and that he knew that you knew of his, but you found with the boys it was easier to let them take things at their own pace no matter how curious you were about meeting their third, their protector.

Suddenly faced with Jake you aren't sure what to do. Physically he still looks like Steven, like Marc, but there's something in his eyes, in the way he holds himself, that is nothing like either of them.

Steven always makes himself small, Marc holds too much tension, like he carries the weight of the word, but Jake, Jake is a statue. Jake is unreadable, at least for now.

"It's nice to finally meet. The others have a lot to say about you," he smiles easily, as though you already know each other.

"All good I hope?" You give an awkward laugh, unsure how to handle the situation. "Is um, are Marc and Steven okay?"

The little you knew about Jake was mostly that he fronted when the boys needed him, when it was dangerous, or too much for either of them to cope. When you'd left the flat for work both of them seemed as happy as usual. You'd left Steven pondering over books, and Marc had called you at lunch to make sure you took a break and had something to eat. Nothing had seemed particularly out of the ordinary, but then nothing in your life was ordinary anymore.

"They are fine. I just decided it was time we meet." Jake shrugs like it's nothing, but you notice an all too familiar twitch of his fingers, one that sets you on edge. Steven used to do the same thing when he was fronting and Marc wanted in, generally when you and Steven were arguing and Marc was itching for control to stop you both.

"So Marc agreed for us to meet? Because that feels like something he might have mentioned." You keep your tone light but you tuck your hands behind your back, curling them into fists the way Marc has taught you.

While you have no reason to fear his alter, the fact this seems suspicious makes you uneasy, especially given everything Steven and Marc have told you about Konshu's hold on Jake. Jake himself may not scare you, but Konshu did.

"We had a long talk about it today." Jake doesn't even miss a beat. In fact his lips twitch upwards as he glances down at your arms, hiding your balled fists behind you.

"I didn't think Marc would give up date night so willingly."

Jake winces, and that tells you all you need to know. Marc knows, but he doesn't have control to stop it. It makes anger spark in your chest on his behalf.

"Can I speak to Marc?"

Jake sighs and opens his mouth, but you cut him off before he has a chance to speak.

"Let me speak to Marc," you repeat, more firmly this time, trying to sound more confident than you really feel. "Or I will leave until you let them front."

A tense silence follows as you do your best to stare him down. Jake gives an amused chuckle at your stubbornness.

"I see why they like you. Alright, speak with him. We can continue this afterwards."

Jake's eyes roll and he lets out a choked noise before Marc stares at you, immediately jumping into an apology as if it's his fault.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, baby! Jake just took me by surprise before I had a chance to stop him."

"Took me by surprise too," you let out a soft laugh, that comes out more nervous than you intended, betraying your wildly beating heart. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Are you okay?" He takes a few steps towards you, and this time instead of stepping back you walk forwards to meet him, allowing him to pull you into a tight hug.

"Yeah just a bit shocked that's all. I thought the days of me dropping in, not sure who I'd find, were gone. Little bit of excitement to my boring day though," you grin, trying to make him feel better as Marc regards you with worry.

"Dinner looks nice," you continue with a smile, gesturing to the beautifully laid out table, trying to distract him.

"I didn't… Jake cooked it." He grits out, clearly annoyed by the situation.

"Oh."

"I've got control of him now. It won't happen again. We can still go out if you feel up to it?" Marc offers.

You hesitate to answer, your mind whirring with questions. Why has Jake decided to intervene now? Was something wrong? Was it just pure chance? Why had he cooked dinner? Did he know it's your favourite meal or had that been a coincidence? Have you met before without knowing?

"Baby?" Marc prompts when you don't answer.

If he says no you won't ask again until he's ready, but now you're here, you have to ask the question. Maybe a little push is what they need.

"Marc," you start softly, taking his hands in yours, "I know you have reservations about Jake but he is a part of you, and I think it's important I get to know him too. I mean after all he has to live here and if I keep dropping in we should know each other."

"Yeah but not like this! Not just out of nowhere before we've even had a chance to talk about it." Marc scowls, his whole body stiff, as though preparing for a fight. You wonder if Jake is fighting to take over again.

"Nothing happens the right way with you anyway. I mean look at us, our relationship has been upside down, sideways and shaken," you laugh affectionately, and though Marc continues to frown his expression softens just a little. "Jake said you talked about it today?"

"Yes. But we didn't agree to anything. And you didn't agree to anything, so you don't have to let him push you into this." Marc cups your face gently, his eyes flicking between yours as he tries to get a read on you, on where your head's at.

"I know. Nobody's forcing me. I just…want to know all of you. You know how badly it turned out when you wouldn't speak to me." You regret the words instantly as Marc drops his eyes, still ashamed of his behaviour during the first few months of your relationship with Steven. You take his hands from your face, holding them and squeezing in a gentle reminder that you've already forgiven all of that.

"But look at us now. The three of us are closer than ever. Jake is the last puzzle piece here. Let me just say hello so he knows I'm not some crazy psycho who's going to hurt you. Plus I won't panic if he fronts when I'm around again. He cooked my favourite food." You shrug, trying to lighten the mood a little and still distracted by the mouth watering smell. Marc ignores your feeble attempt at making jokes.

"Only because the perverted bastards been watching the time you spend with us! I didn't tell him that!" He bursts out, glaring at the table as though it somehow personally offended him.

Your stomach turns uncomfortably at the thought of the intrusion. Marc and Steven had an agreement that when it came to you, for the most part, they would stay out of each other's relationships. That way you knew the time you spent with each of them was solely for that person. But the fact Jake knew things about you, makes you uneasy. Did Marc know the extent that his alter had been watching you? What exactly had he seen?

"Okay, that's… yeah…. weird." You wrap your arms around your waist, shielding yourself from the moment as your mind whirs with questions and concerns.

"You don't have to agree to this, love." You're drawn out of your unsavoury thoughts by Steven’s soft British accent. "Marc's having a word now. Well, several in fact."

"I know but… honestly Steven, I think it's time. And I have questions I want answers to." You glance at the food on the table with a frown.

"I don't know if I'll be able to take control back," Marc warns, clearly feeling he needs to step back in.

You give him a reassuring smile, hoping it comes off as confident. "I don't think Jake is going to hurt me. Hurting me would hurt you both and isn't he supposed to stop that?"

"It's not that. I'm just worried what he will say to you."

"Marc," you start seriously before breaking into a grin, "I very much doubt Jake finally confirming you actually do love Beauty and the Beast, is going to be that bad."

Marc doesn't take the bait, still too wound up in his head, and no doubt listening to the voices of his alters.

"It's not that. I just….I've done some bad things." And there it was. Marc was worried somehow Jake would reveal something he didn't want you to know. Something about the past he keeps carefully locked away and hidden.

You take Marc's hands in yours, squeezing tightly.

"I'm so proud of you. You didn't deny loving the film!" You coo, much to Marc's annoyance as he pulls a face at you, clearly unimpressed.

"Whatever happened in the past, whatever you or Jake or Steven did, it doesn't matter. I know you Marc Spector, and you are a good man. You all are. Now let's get this over with okay?"

Marc looks at you pleadingly, but you stand firm. This has to happen sometime, and while it's out of the blue, so had your meeting been with Marc the first time when you thought you were meeting Steven.

"He says one word out of line," Marc growls, leaving the threat unsaid.

"One word," you agree with a nod.

"And he only gets to eat dinner with you. This is purely an introduction."

You nod again, unsure of anything else Marc might be worried Jake would ask you to do.

"And I get an additional date night with you!"

You try and bite back your laugh but you can't help grinning at him. You could tease him later on his little bout of adorable jealousy. If you were honest, you would miss the time with him too.

"And just to remind you, I hate that film. And if you and Steven watch it one more time!" Laughing, you kiss him softly. Marc's expression relaxes in an instant. "You're sure?"

You step back, letting go of his hands and giving him a nod. You were as ready as you were ever going to be.

"I'm sure."

"We'll be right here if you need us, love. Just say the word," Steven assures you, before he steps back.

Watching the transition is hard. It's not like Marc and Steven, whose switch between them is so smooth it's hard to notice. It's not quite like the way Steven had described his blackouts either, back in the days before he knew Marc. But it's clearly still a difficult transition until Jake slips into place.

"Shall we?" Jake smiles, gesturing to the table, as though he'd never been gone. You suspect he's been listening the whole time.

~

So far you are yet to fully understand Marc’s hesitation at meeting his alter. You and Jake have made small talk and introductions while you eat. Jake had been perfectly friendly, and if you're honest, even a little funny. Although you were trying to make it hard for him, given the way he had jumped in, you still found yourself enjoying his company, at least a little.

"Why the introduction now?" You ask, sipping your drink. It's your favourite and you could assume that Jake had purely got that by coincidence, since Steven always made sure he had some in the cupboards, but combined with the food you suspect not.

"They are going to ask you to move in."

You choke on your food in surprise, snapping your head up to look at Jake, waiting for him to laugh. Only he doesn't. He stares seriously at you.

"Steven decided a while ago but Marc is scared to ask. He feels you might say no."

You swallow, trying to dampen the excited butterflies that erupt in your belly.

"I don't know how he got that impression?"

Jake shrugs, "you know Marc, he has a hard time believing people do actually like him."

You do know that. If you've learnt anything about Marc over your relationship, you've learnt that is a key component. Marc always thought people preferred Steven, and he had a hard time believing anything that suggested otherwise.

"Well, if they are listening," Jake's quirk of his lips let's you know they are, "then I wouldn't say no. I would love to live here, with them. I mean I practically do anyway!"

Steven had already given you a key to the flat, and other than the evenings they were gone, you spent basically every night here.

"That's another reason it was important for us to meet. You never know when we might run into each other." Jake smiles, but his words bring up a remembrance of your concerns. Have you met before?

"Well really you would think we had met already, given you know my favourite food and my favourite drink, probably a lot more than that too. Should I ask if you know what colour underwear I put on today?" The words have a clear bite to them and to your surprise, Jake splutters on his drink, a look of shock widening his eyes.

"I would never!"

You scoff disbelievingly, gesturing to the table.

"Oh come on Jake! Let's at least be honest with each other."

"I have limits," Jake insists, wiping his mouth. "I would never invade yours, or their, privacy that way."

You find that hard to believe.

"Except you already did," you point out.

Jake sighs, defeated.

"Not out of malice or perversion. The last time Marc let someone this close to him it didn't end well, and it took some recovery time. I had to be sure he was okay, and that you could handle it…us."

Layla. Marc has spoken about his ex wife a handful of times. You knew he left, and when they found each other again in the end they decided to part as friends. To your knowledge she was off travelling Egypt, working on archeological sites. Whatever the reasons they didn't work out, Marc had never mentioned, and you never asked. You felt it wasn't your place or your business. Another past item Marc kept locked away.

But it still doesn't make sense. You'd been dating Steven a long time, and Marc a while now too. Why had it taken all this time for Jake to decide to vet you?

"Well, you took your time," you comment, watching his expression.

Jake lets out a soft laugh with a nod.

"Not out of choice, Cariño. Marc keeps you well guarded."

That is easy to believe, and you understood as much from the handful of times the boys have mentioned their other alter. Jake was their protector, and he would do what needed to be done in order to protect them. You got the feeling Marc was scared that Jake wouldn't like you, and subsequently remove you from their lives. You hope you've at least made a good enough impression that that wouldn't happen.

"You swear you've never watched us…" you gesture with your hands, heat prickling the back of your neck, unable to say the words.

"Never," Jake confirms passionately, before he grins, raising an eyebrow, "unless you wanted me to? I'd be more than happy to oblige any desire you have."

It takes all your willpower and sense of decorum not to throw your drink in his face, and you imagine Marc is seething. Judging by the way Jake swallows hard, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, he's fighting Marc for control.

"Let me guess, the boys not take that well?" You give him a smug smile and sip your drink, pleased just a little at their protectiveness of you. Jake holds up his hands in surrender with a nod.

"I seem to remember you allowing Marc to speak to you in the same way."

You open your mouth to protest before closing it again, knowing Jake is absolutely right. When you first started dating Steven, Marc would often make little remarks in much the same way to wind you up, until he realised he had fallen for you, then he'd stopped entirely until the night it all came tumbling out.

"Marc helped me and Steven come together. He gets a free pass on that time in our lives."

"You are good for them, for us," Jake smiles, a soft warm genuine smile, perhaps the first true warmth he's given you all evening. "When you found us everyone was unhappy. We were in a dark place, Marc especially. When we-"

"If it's not something I don't already know, then I don't want to know. Marc doesn't want me involved in his past and I'd like to respect that. Please," you interrupt.

Jake tilts his head, like a dog who doesn't understand. "You're not even a little curious?"

You shake your head. Curious would be an understatement but you had meant what you had said to Marc. The past was the past, and it didn't matter now.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is now and if Marc or Steven wants me to know something, they will tell me."

Jake smiles and leans back in his chair, regarding you proudly. You get the feeling you just passed another kind of test.

It isn't the last of the evening either. Now and again Jake says something, asks something, that feels a little off, leading you somewhere, pushing you, testing you. It makes for an exhausting dinner, and nothing like the relaxing meal you had planned to have with Marc. You do your best to be honest, truthful, and loyal.

All you can do is hope you pass the exam.

~

When the food is finished you help Jake clear away the plates, feeling at least a little accomplished that their alter seems to tolerate you, if not like you a little.

"Does this mean I'll see you more often now?"

"Why, do you want to?" Jake grins. "Sabía que no eras inmune a mis encantos "

Laughing you shake your head, "I never said that. It's just I don't want you to feel like you can't front with me around. I know Marc doesn't like it, but I can talk to him. If we are going to live here then we should do it as a family."

"I appreciate that," he pauses for a moment before he adds "and your trust. You didn't have to meet me tonight but you did."

You smile, "I've learnt that sometimes with those two, it's better just to get the truth out of the way."

Jake smiles, regarding you for a long moment with an expression you can't quite place. It leaves you with a warm feeling in your chest.

"I should go," he says finally, "Thank you for having dinner with me. If you ever change your mind about wanting an audience-"

"I won't." You reply quickly, cutting him off. Jake raises an eyebrow before he lets out a soft laugh.

"Never say never cariño. I look forward to changing your mind." He takes your hand and leaning down, brushes his lips against your knuckles.

In the blink of an eye Jake is gone, and Marc’s furious frown falls into place, his fingers squeezing yours.

"I'm going to murder that bastard! If he thinks he can flirt with you-" Marc cuts out as you laugh, drawing him into your arms to hug him tightly.

"You have nothing to worry about, Spector. I only have eyes for two men in my life." He still frowns unhappily but you persevere, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Don't let it get to you. There's still a whole lot of date night left you know? I can think of something I want for supper."

Marc's expression changes in an instant, his fingers gripping your hips a little harder.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smile, pulling his mouth to yours for a much more insistent kiss.

You try not to wonder if Jake is watching.

If you enjoyed reading please consider reblogging and letting me know your thoughts! Remember reblogs keep writers writing!!

~~~~~~~~

*Spanish - I knew you weren't immune to my charms

Thank you to @mandinlore for being amazing and beta'ing this for me!!

[heartfullofleeches]

Spill

Immortal Male Yan + G.N Criminal Reader

Summary: You kidnapped him to get some information about a shared friend, but he won't give in so easily

Warnings: Sadomasochism themes, violence, slightly suggestive scene

Good little Silas.

Always keeps every word someone says to him.

It's his job afterall - one no-one else in the entire world could full. You see, Silas knew the secrets of a lot of dangerous people. The type of series others would die, or even kill for. Why would these people trust a scrawny, pathetic looking guy like him? It's simple really. He has a bigger secret than all of them combined.

He couldn't die.

It was really hard to convince his boss of his usefulness at first. His buddies put a bullet through his skull and tossed him into the trash out back before he could demonstrate himself. Didn't even buy him dinner before hand. Assholes. Coming back after having his brains splattered on his soon to be employer's did wonders for his credibility. He was mostly used as a living meat shield early on, but with his resilience to wounds and the pain they may cause his boss become more relaxed around him. He had proven worth plus is anyone ever caught wind of their ties and kidnapped him Silas would never saw a thing. He was the perfect lapdog.

After that he pretty much became an outlet for everyone's tales. From little white lights to infidelity, murder, and every other sin in the book. Sweet Silas would do his to lean an ear and give input when requested. By the end of the year Silas had enough information to get everyone involved arrested, murdered, or whatever else might happen if he let any details slip. He could easily save the lives of innocent people, but he had a bigger prey to catch than the fleeting high of justice.

After all, a good boy might go to the police, and he was no good boy.

-

Silas greedily gulps down tablespoons of water as the glass clacks against his teeth.

"Feeling better?"

"Mhm..."

A backhand soars across his face.

"Good."

Silas' head hangs at an awkward angle from the force, red stained saliva dribbling down his lips. He bite into the lower one to avoid making a sound. Normally he'd hold his captor to the same standards as his friends in regards to filling his stomach with something other than water before smacking him around, but this was no ordinary kidnapper. They were intoxicating, threatening, the exact type of person he'd love to...

Ugh, he's getting carried away again.

Best not to do that while he's still playing an innocent victim, especially in front of his Doll. Just a single week before his employment, Silas fell in love. The culprit of his stolen heart was a crook committing another robbery that night, the two's paths crossed in an alley behind the bank. No questions asked, his future spouse stabbed him directly in his chest before they fled the scene. That boldness almost made them an optional playmate, but that hint of guilt in their eyes swept him off his feet. Researching them only made him fall madder in love. He would do anything to have them.

"I don't want to hurt you. Just tell me code to his safe and I'll let you go.

Facing away, Silas is fully able to roll his eyes. At least threaten his life if he speaks while you're at it.

"Please... I really don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a waiter!" He fights in his restraints and sobs with wide eyes, hoping to sell the act anc draw attention away from his lower body. Pitching a tent right in front of his doll on their first meeting was rather embarrassing. You snarl as you pick up your knife.

"Just tell me what I want to know!"

You're so pretty when you scream. Silas can't wait for his turn to play. He holds it isn't too long so he can take a picture of his wounds and mirror them on you so you'll have matching scars. Sure he'll have to redo his now and then, but the photos you take at your wedding won't know that.

You ghost the blade down along his neck. Silas swallows to feel its point and prevent himself from choking on the blood collecting in his mouth. He wants to act just a little longer - but you're making it so hard teasing him like that. He repeats his scripted moto in his head like a pray as you drag the knife down his chest.

Scream. Cry. Scream. Cry. Ah-

Your eyes grow to the size of dinner plates as the tiny moan sounds within the empty room. It's not a whimper you're used to, but one of pure unadulterated lust. "Did.. you just."

No going back now. So much for that.

"Guess I just can't help it, Dolly. You're too fucking irresponsible. I know you wanna hurt me, but since I love you so much I wanna let you in on a little secret. You can hurt me, but you can't kill me. Break me apart if you don't believe me. I'll be back tomorrow to take what's mine."

You step back as he erupts into a fit of shrill laughter. "That bastard- Always hiring the freaks. I can't believe he ditch me for someone like you."

His laughter stops. That's a secret his boss never shared with him. That old fuck would've been dead long before then if he had.

"Ohh, did he do something to hurt you? That changes everything. I'll give you whatever you want to know down to his house code if you let me have first cut."

"Why would you help me?"

"I already told you, Doll." Silas stands up and drops the cuffs to the ground, dislocated bones bopping back into place as he flexes. "I love ya, and I'm gonna make sure whoever's hurt you pays. Got this job just to help you out anyway. Issue is if you want me to spill the beans without a few dates first you gotta spilling my guts on the floor as my spit spills down your pretty throat."

[awriterinthenight]

"You're The Most Perfect Person Ever"-George Karim

requested: anonymous

words: 509

warnings: none really, just fluff

summary: The acts of service you do for George

Acts of service was your love language. You'd do almost anything for George Karim just because you loved him. Whether it was making him tea while he was researching, or grabbing the book he needed from the Archive, you would do it for him.

One time you came home to him asleep on the couch surrounded by books. He had been working all day and had fallen asleep from overworking himself. You admired him for how hard of a worker he was, but wished sometimes he'd not work so hard he would pass out.

You took the blanket off the top of the couch, and carefully placed it over him. But no matter how gentle you were, he still woke up.

His eyes fluttered open, "Did I fall asleep?" he asked, surprised since he didn't even remember falling asleep.

You nodded your head, "You did," you told him, sitting down on the couch with him, "You really need to stop overworking yourself."

"I'll take that into consideration," he said before lying back down, this time you laid down with him.

***

Along with overworking himself, George also became stressed out easily. Whenever he was stressed he cleaned. So when you came home to an almost perfectly clean house, you knew something was wrong.

You found George cleaning out the oven, wearing his large rubber gloves, "You're stress cleaning again," you said, stating the obvious to get his attention.

"It helps me," he defended, which you would disagree with, since it seemed to only make him more stressed. You walk over to George standing face to face with him now that he stood up.

"You're only stressing yourself out more. Why don't you let me make you some tea, and we can go take a nap in your room, okay?" you asked, wanting to take care of him.

George knew there was no arguing, so he agreed, and promptly went up to his room to wait for you. When you arrived with tea you drank it, then cuddled together for the rest of the night.

***

George had a job with Lockwood one night, and so you made George his favorite dinner for when he returned. George was exhausted when he got back, but when he saw you and his favorite meal he instantly felt happier.

"You're the most perfect person ever," he mumbled a bit, still tired from the job he was on.

You shrugged, "You had a tough night, you deserve it," you said, handing him the plate. He ate the entire meal in minutes, even having seconds. After he ate he made sure to hug you for a long time. Long enough for Lockwood and Lucy to walk into the kitchen and tease you.

"Get a room," Lucy said, annoyed by you two, but also happy for you.

"We eat in here, do that somewhere else," Lockwood teased, just trying to get some tea, not needing to witness your PDA. You both retreated to George's room where you spent the rest of your night content in each other's company.

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