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queers-gambit · 1 year

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Mother Knows No Bounds

prompt: you are Rhaenyra's daughter, married to Prince Aemond, and the subject of Alicent's hatred. one day, she takes it too far.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader technically Velaryon!wife!reader, but you can pick and choose

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.7k+

note: 10,000 points to your Hogwarts House if you can find the Lord of the Rings quote

warnings: cursing, vilified!Alicent, Aemond needs his big brother. descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, toxic family being toxic; um is this technically neglect? abuse? potentially triggering description of medical phenomenons, i guess OC Aemond ?

please note again and do not proceed if you are triggered by any of the following content: descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, involuntary termination, depiction of medical procedure.

you are not missing anything by skipping this, please value your comfort!

The city had come to a screeching halt the moment extreme temperatures skyrocketed, citizens unable to bear the scorching sun during waking, working hours. It was only the brave, stupid, poor, or accommodated persons that dared venture about their lives when the heat index had tripled; silent, since the heat was so sweltering, nobody wanted to add to it by talking. Even the animals were quiet and scarce around the streets, most seeking shelter under any shade they could find.

Women skinny dipped. Children ran around without their clothes. Men forewent any and all armor, most even going shirtless.

The guards were on short patrols and constantly rotated to try and save them from heatstroke. The fishermen all left port to spend time on the water since it was cooler than being on land. Whores wore less than ever before. Vendors constructed makeshift fans for their own air current.

The temperature spike was truly murderous. At dusk, gravediggers traveled the city with a bell and horse-toted cart, announcing if anyone wanted their dead disposed of, now was the time. The heat caused any elderly to dehydrate, their hearts simply stopping; and for young children to overheat and catch too-high fevers.

It was a dreadful time to be alive in King's Landing because the city had next to no coverage, so, the sun beat down on citizens in a suffocating, unbearable, offensive manner. None stood a chance: the young, old, rich, poor, everyone was a target.

For some reason, the fat Lords of the Realm had demanded the King hold court to voice their complaints; temperatures making many operate on short fuses. However, due to his sickly, deteriorating state and wicked weather, King Viserys was unable to sit the Throne; the responsibility falling onto the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower. And because she was Queen, his daughter, Alicent was always in attendance.

Yet for some reason, she had sent guards and servants to retrieve her children - including you.

You'd been married to Aemond about 21 months, and while a seemingly short time, certain single days felt more like three when loved by a man you considered your best friend. You had known the One Eyed Prince back when he had no need for an eyepatch, sapphire, or silly nickname, and for years, you were decent friends before growing to attach at the hip. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, and best of all, he was a wildly good listener. Even as a child, he didn't talk too much, but still more than he did now; and all his life, he was simply a listener. It made for a peaceful and trustworthy marriage.

21 months of marriage, and now, (almost) 7 months pregnant.

Aemond was over the moon with pride, joy, and excitement when you told him the news. He was eager to meet the babe, and the moment he learned, Aemond started gathering whatever material and furniture he could. He commissioned 11 Septas to knit a series of baby blankets; most with Targaryen colors and / or design. Otto was happy to see his grandson looking forward to married life, and Helaena was elated for you both. She's always liked you like a sister, always thought you were kind, just, and fair, with a healthy balance of being stubborn - all topped off with heaping loyalty. To everyone's surprise, even Aegon sincerely offered congratulations to you both when you broke the joyful news, telling you and Aemond he was excited to meet his newest niece or nephew.

However, amongst the fanfare and triumph, two women remained permanently dismayed by the entire marriage that the prospect of a child genuinely angered them.

The first woman was your mother, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, but she was annoyed simply because she knew the Targaryen Curse was real and thought this was not something you should endure. You were her firstborn, her brightest star, her dearest love; she worried herself to the brim about you, and while she respected your marriage, she's never offered approval.

The second woman was Aemond's mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, who chose to silently seeth to herself (for a time) instead of voicing any opinion or emotion. Years ago, she and your mother were the closest of friends, and after she married Viserys, Alicent lost her friend and the tension has only festered from there. However, now that Rhaenyra was living on Dragonstone, you were the only person close enough to take the brunt end of Alicent's anger and she found new ways to project that. Simply put, she despised you - but she would've hated whoever "took" her (unofficial) favorite child "from" her; who became the leading lady in his life. Alicent's anger was justified, but only towards Rhaenyra - not you.

Yet communication and emotional intelligence was rare in this day.

Alicent knew you were innocent of everything. Yet somedays, she could not restrain her anger and would lash out like a dog chained-up; but you had thick skin. You always endured her quick jabs, sharp tongue, and snarling insults because you loved and respected Aemond too much to bite back at his mother. However, while most days, Alicent was amicable, some days, she was a downright bitch, and other days, she was absolutely diabolical.

Alicent's anger took over and when this happened, she was powerless towards impulse; resulting in usually terribly stressful events that honestly have no business being so fucking stressful - or even further, by becoming catastrophic. For example, years ago, when Luke cut Aemond's eye from his socket, she took the King's dagger from his person and tried to attack Rhaenyra. She ended up slicing the Crowned Princess' forearm, but far more damage was already done, and nothing would ever be the same.

Alicent's anger often blinded her and drove her to impulsive decisions or reactions, and this today, in this heatwave, she went too far.

You were sat in your bedchambers, Aemond at your side as you both listened to a sweating Grand Maester; both your hand and your husband's resting on the curve of your pregnant belly.

"Now, remember, Princess, in these conditions, it's important to lay low for the sake of your health and the baby's. Don't be on your feet in the heat too long, don't exert yourself, drink more water than you usually would, and rest as much as possible." He handed you a tea bag, explaining, "For the nerves before bed."

"Thank you," you agreed, taking what he offered. Aemond saw the Grand Maester out of your chambers as you sighed, using a handheld fan to wave cooler air over your face.

"It's criminal, this heat. Gotta get someone in here with a fan," Aemond mumbled to himself, leading you to a lounge chair to rest on. "Can I get you anything, sweet love?"

"Water, if you'd please," you smiled.

He agreed and stood, but just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Aemond permitted, moving to the table in the room to pour you a goblet of water. The guard who entered wasn't known to you by name, but Aemond greeted him casually, "Ser Mythos. What do we own this pleasure?"

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Do you know why?" Aemond grit.

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"I've asked you why."

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Fuck's sake," you snapped, "we heard you! Yeah? Gods," you cursed, head tilted back in annoyance; eyes squeezing shut as your child kicked your bladder.

"The Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Lady and my Prince."

Aemond glanced at you, sighed shortly through his nose, then turned to Ser Mythos to snap, "I will be along shortly, but my wife was told to rest in this heat for our baby's health. We'll need palms brought in for fanning."

"And the Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince, both of you. Both, my Prince, both."

Your eyes rolled, telling Aemond, "I think the Queen wants us both, my love." Then shifted your glare towards the messenger, sounding as tired as you looked, "All right, fine, fine, fine, fucking fine, give us a moment to dress and we will be there presently."

"My Lady," the guard accepted, turned, and left the room.

"What could Mother want with us both?" Aemond snipped at you when the door shut with an echoing-clang.

"Does it matter? She's called for us," you frowned.

"They can at least call you by your proper title - we are married now. You are a Princess of the City, they should address you as such."

You waved him off, "Who cares about that? C'mere. Help me up, my love, please. Your kid's sitting heavy."

You and Aemond dressed for court in thin clothing before fixing your hair so it didn't cling to either of your necks. It was already far too warm to even think properly, and surely, nobody would judge if you attended court with your hair pulled up, nor judge Aemond for the fashionably bun you convinced him to wear. No make-up was used, no heels; no corset, nor any pinch of leather. Aemond didn't like the last bit, but you were stern in your worry, telling him that leather would retain his body heat and today was already stifling enough.

When ready, you vacated your chambers and walked to the Throne Room, seeing it filled with a sizable crowd that surely would do nothing to help the sticky heat hanging in the air. Aemond held your hand tightly with his head held high to lead you towards his mother, who stood at the base of the Iron Throne. When close enough, Aemond asked, "You called for us, Your Grace?"

"I did," she eyed you both. "This is a good learning opportunity for you both, I thought it best we were all here."

"Mother, it's too hot for - "

"We are all suffering the same heat," she cut Aemond off.

"Yes, but my wife is pregnant, Mother. The Maester told her to rest, not stand in court with a hundred bloody people."

"You mean to tell me she has a higher priority than - "

"Yes. That is what I am saying, Mother. My wife certainly has priority over everything else as far as I am concerned."

Alicent shook her head, "For as long as we hold places in court, we will attend court. All of us, as a united family. Now, pay attention, you both will hold places here after King Viserys, best you know this all now."

So, you stood there like an obedient dog as slowly, one person after another approached the Throne to tell Ser Otto Hightower their grievances. They yapped up all the advice and court rulings; Aemond standing at your side, and while he was listening to what was being said, he also kept an eye on you out of sheer worry. There was no air to blow, no window to open; mediocre fans and palms brought in to manually wave by a few sets of servants. Yet it wasn't enough.

Sweat bulleted on brows. Pale cheeks flushed with heat. Legs started to shake from stress. Clothes dampened and clung to skin.

You were all of the above and then some!

The heat felt criminally offensive, and you knew you wore your displeasure on your face. Discomfort while pregnant isn't easy to hide, your hand smoothing over your belly as you exhaled a slow, calming breath that did literally nothing to aid your tangible anger. The common folk still reported to Otto, but you knew this was far from over, trying to blink back your discomfort as your stomach churned; twisted; started to cramp with increasingly stabbing pain. The heat festered a headache and soon, the nausea set in.

Taking another deep, long breath, you focused on the man complaining about his neighbor stealing his crops, his silver, and how the other man was fucking his wife - in his very own barn! The man asked for permission to sentence the neighbor to trial by combat, and for the life of you, you could not understand why you needed to be present for this.

Another farmer came up, saying there were too many maggots in his fields and needed the King's coin to bring in specialized mulch for himself and all the farmers in all of the Riverlands - who were plagued by this contagious maggot infestation.

Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place came up and asked for an increased patrol of "the King's Men", sell swords sent to "keep the King's peace." A group with radically different tactics than Daemon's Gold Cloaks.

This "Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place" even presented his daughter, saying she was fit to marry the Prince Aemond. Eyes turned to you and for whatever reason, you felt embarrassed by the sudden attention. So, you shied away from it, shifting slightly closer to Aemond as Otto spoke with a bored expression, "Prince Aemond is wedded already. As is his brother, Prince Aegon."

"What 'bout the li'l one?"

"Pardon?" Otto blinked.

"The Queen's last son?"

"With respect, my Lord, our son is still a child learning the ways of the world and is no way fit to marry quite yet," Alicent cut in, your feet going numb and making you sway slightly. "The Crown has learned from other marriage pacts to examine all offers carefully," but Alicent's sharp words flew over your head as something in your stomach pinched sharply like a severe period cramp. Your breathing came out in shudders; holding onto Aemond securely as he looked down at you with worry.

Your entire face, neck, and chest glistened with sweat. It clung to your hair, raced down your chest, and when he got a closer look, he didn't like the discoloration to your skin. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong...

"Then it shall be a long engagement so you might consider my daughter well!" The Lord barked, laughing gruffly. "She is not a disappointment, my Lord Hand."

"The Crown will consider your offer, Lord Peregrin, but the Crown must weigh other presented offers before marrying young Prince Daeron to anyone," Otto spoke diplomatically.

"Aye, I'll offer her dowry. Twenty thousand good men for your army, and I can spare about 500 Gold Dragons."

"Our army? Are we at war?" Otto faked a chuckle, your vision starting to blur but you refused to cause a scene. Your mouth had cotton in it; tongue sticking to your roof and your cramps were getting worse. You sweat so much, it was running down your neck, forehead, shoulders, lips, thighs, chest.

"Well, no, perhaps not in this moment, Lord Hand - Your Grace - but we know the rumors about the King's lineage," the Lord spoke boldly, making your blood boil, but the pain was over-powering your ability to speak. Tears actually coated your eyes. "Prince Aegon should be named the rightful heir to the Throne, so, if the time comes that he needs an army, my daughter's marriage to Prince Daeron would guarantee those men and swords."

Otto sighed as you gulped harshly, wincing in pain, a single tear rolling down your cheek. The cramping intensified, the bolts of pain setting your muscles on fire and radiating into your organs - or so it felt like. The Throne Room was too hot for you to withstand much longer; there was no water, and you'd been standing there going on three hours. Not to mention, you had been throwing up terribly violent in the night and mornings, meaning, you were probably (very likely) very dehydrated and that wasn't good for you nor the baby.

The longer you stood there, the sicker you felt. The longer you stood there, the more Aemond worried. The longer you stood there, the more time you had to develop a strong resentment towards Alicent. Your hand went to your belly, trying to regulate your breathing, but even your dress gave you away - sweat darkening the hemlines. Since finding out you were pregnant, you and Aemond agreed you would no longer wear corsets, and for a whole weekend, he took you to Highgarden to visit the tailors. They created a whole new "maternity wardrobe" that was loose but still womanly by being formfitting. They were made of breathable material, since Highgarden was tropical and often warm; and Aemond adored the sight of your bump.

"Aemond," you whispered, your husband looking down at you but so did Alicent. "I'm not feeling well, my love. I-I need to sit, I need water."

"We're almost done - "

"This is not the time to distract everyone," Alicent snapped quietly at you. "Focus, and let Aemond focus, too, he's the Prince. You don't need him for your every whim."

You only nodded and closed your mouth, clearing your throat of emotion, knowing something didn't wasn't right. It was more than a gut feeling now, you just inherently knew something was wrong. Disconnected. Short circuiting.

The hall was too hot.

Stifling hot. Suffocatingly hot. Stuffy sort of hot.

Overwhelmingly hot.

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, so fucking hot!

Your nausea got worse to the point you were going to hurl at any moment. You know that feeling? C'mon, yes you do! You start to feel a little shaky, then your mouth starts "sweating" (or watering) and you even get a little clammy; maybe you even start to look gaunt? Maybe your skin changes color? That feeling? Yeah, that's exactly what was happening!

So, to keep calm, you just start taking long, deep breaths. The last thing you wanted to do was panic when surrounded by so many members of court... Then something that felt like urine raced down your inner thighs, yet you barely noticed it, too distracted with keeping upright. Blood puddled beneath your skirts on the stone but nobody noticed yet. More Lords came and went, some Ladies, more and more farmers with trivial disputes. Fathers, sons, uncles, neighbors, you name it!

However, to your earnest shock, when a particularly amusing man came to speak to the King('s Hand), Aegon had glanced at his brother with an amused smirk, but caught sight of you, requiring a double-take. "Brother," Aegon turned from his 'front row seat', showing a rare moment of emotion by looking concerned at your being. "Oh, Gods, fuck," he worried, looking ready to extend his arms to you.

"Fuck," Aemond breathed, turning you to face him. "Can you hear me, sweet love? Hey, hey," he spoke your name, "can you hear me?"

But it was as if you were in a trance. Waves crushed over your ears, sweat rolling down your skin, appearing clammy and as if not in your own body. Aegon jolted forward when your eyes rolled back in your head, knees buckling, forcing your husband to catch you before you began your descent to the ground. When he caught you, it revealed the blood from under your skirts, and when Aemond got you on the ground, he realized your legs were coated in slick, mucus, and both dried and fresh blood; indicating you had been bleeding for hours.

"Call the Maester!" Aemond barked. "Get the bloody Maester!"

"She's bleeding," Aegon pointed out.

"I have eyes to see, brother, I know she is bleeding!" Aemond snapped, his panic tangible. "Love! My sweet love, please, open your eyes, please. Fuck's sake, please, open your eyes - let me see them. Sweetheart, please, c'mon - FUCK! Brother! Brother, help, please, there's blood! There's too much blood! Aegon! What do I do!? Aegon, please! What do I do!?"

"Let her breathe, brother, the Maester's are coming, it's gonna be all right, I-I've heard this can happen. Okay? Just gotta wait for the Maesters, Aemond," Aegon nodded, reaching a hand to his younger brother's shoulder in comfort. Otto descended the Throne to get a closer look as guards surrounded your unconscious body and Aemond's panicked, kneeling form.

"What happened?" Otto demanded.

"She passed out," Helaena frowned in worry, looking as if tears would soon fall. "And there's blood - she's been swaying, I-I think she was ill."

"It's the heat," Aemond snapped, tears down his cheeks. "We were told she needed rest in this temperature, but no." His glare turned to his mother, "We were both expected here."

"You saw the Grand Maester?"

"We did."

"He told her to lie down?" Otto asked, looking and sounding confused.

"To rest," Aemond nodded, supporting your limp head and neck.

When the Grand Maester arrived, he wasted no time in demanding your limp form be brought to his chambers for monitoring and examination. Aemond picked you up and carried you, leaving everyone else behind - or so he thought. The Maester spent a grand total of 43 minutes conducting diagnostic tests, and when the last exam was brought up, he asked Aemond to step out of the room as the examination would turn more intimate.

When Aemond stepped out, he was surprised to see Aegon and Helaena standing there. Aegon instantly pushed off the wall, asking, "Well? How is she? What's happening?"

"One last test," Aemond answered in a low mutter. "What're you doing here?"

"We wanted to make sure you were both all right," Helaena, his sweet sister, answered.

"Mother didn't demand you stay?"

"No, Mother actually called an end to court," Helaena told Aemond. "Grandfather was very angry."

"He was?"

"Never seen him like that," Aegon agreed, telling Aemond of the words Otto raged at Alicent.

When the chamber doors opened, Aemond was invited back inside. He took to your side instantly, but there was a knowing look in your eyes. You never looked at the Maester, only at your husband, as it was explained that due to the heat, you had become dehydrated over time and then spending the day in court, it was just too long a time being on your feet without water or fresh air. You had toppled over the side of heat stroke, the lack of hydration causing you to involuntarily miscarry.

The child would not grow and for your safety and health, the Maester would have to preform essentially what is an abortion to eliminate exposure to rot. Aemond blinked in astonishment, feeling confused about the turn of events, but when he realized you weren't able to respond, he looked at you.

He made the decision, seeing tears streaking your cheeks and the dead look in your eyes.

You were prepped for the procedure and while the Master tried to escort Aemond out, nobody was able to move him from his place at your side. It took the better part of an hour, but when it was over, not only were you given an additional dose of Milk of the Poppy, but Aemond was also given several vials for you in the coming days. He was also given a plethora of herbs, spices, remedies, salves, therapies, and treatments; being given explicit instruction and detail about all he was given, being told when to use what to best help you.

Aemond stooped to pick you up, again, refusing to let anyone else touch you, and the Grand Maester held the door for him. Aegon, Helaena, Alicent, and Otto were all revealed, but Aemond didn't even so much as blink at them; whatever life might've been left lurking behind his eye being completely snuffed out. He made a direct beeline for your chambers with the intention to let you rest in a soft, familiar bed for however long you needed, but he was followed by his family and knew this would be anything but a peaceful time.

"L-Love?" You whimpered when your husband laid you on your marital bed. "Aemond? Aemond?" You asked a little more frantically, being soothed swiftly.

"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart," he hushed, ignoring the audience; one hand holding yours as the other pet your hair back. "Hey, just breathe for me, darling, I'm right here. I've got you."

"I-I might be sick," you complained in a whisper, eyes unable to open as sweat bulleted on your skin.

"'S all right," he assured, grabbing a basin to leave on the bed beside you so he could sit at your side. "'M right here, you're not alone."

Aemond watched the way you harshly gulped, a hand dragging up to press to your belly. "W-What happened?" You mumbled, making his heart clench. "I just... There was a lot of heat and then pain." Your eyes finally opened to meet his, "I remember pain, Aemond."

With a glance up at his family, Aemond told you stiffly, "You remember correctly, love. The, uh... The heat was too much for you to handle, sweet girl, and that wasn't your fault." He took a long breath, clutching one of your hands in both of his, "But it was just too much. We couldn't save them... We couldn't save her."

"I-It was a girl?"

"It was," Aemond confirmed, reaching for your other hand to hold tightly. "And you didn't do this. Hmm? You hear me? This is not your doing."

"But my body - "

"No," he refused with a harsh tone. Realizing you were not the one to take his anger out on, he cleared his throat, "Sorry, love, I just," he took a breath. "Listen to me, okay? No, my sweet love, we were told to rest - you and I were told this heat was too much for the babe and that you would need rest. We meant to, we had every intention to follow the Maester's orders, but..." Another pause as he fought off the emotion clawing through his chest. "But for some reason, royal obligation was more important than our family, and Mother refused to let us miss today's court appearance."

"Huh...?" You breathed, still relatively drowsy from the day. But the emotion was real, your husband saw your pain. "What're you talking about, love? Aemond? What's - What the hell happened to our baby? Where's our baby?"

Aemond's jaw steeled and a tear streaked down his cheek as he forced himself to explain, "The Queen demanded our attendance in court today. And standing in the heat for hours cost us our daughter's life. I am so sorry, my sweet love, but we do not have our daughter because she is... She isn't in your womb anymore," his hand laid over your belly, your own automatically following. "She can't ever join us, our family," he spoke slowly, then tearing his glare away from your tired figure to his mother, sneering, "because my mother can't let go of a decades-old feud with a woman no longer living in this very city."

"Aemond," you whispered, heart shattered in your chest but still managing, "do not take this out on her."

"No?" He snapped, still glaring at his mother but clutching your belly, "If not for her, our daughter would still be safe in her mother's womb and we'd still have the chance to one day hold her. But no," he spoke as slowly as he stood to his feet, pulling his hands away from you, "no, we were unjustly denied that chance."

When her (favorite) child faced her with such hatred, dread, distraught, soul-sucking eyes, Alicent frowned with tears in her own eyes. She had so much to say, but only managed, "I did not intend for this."

"This hatred you feel for Rhaenyra is literally costing lives! For the love of all the Gods, my wife is nothing like her mother! They are not one in-the-same, this does not make her your new target to unleash Hell upon - she has done no wrong and yet suffers these heinous consequences!"

"I did not intend for this! You must know that!" She repeated in desperation. "I only wanted you both to partake in your duties - soon, you will be the ones conducting business at court and you must be readied for what may come!"

"That does not give you the right to forfeit her health!"

"How was I to know - "

"The bloody Maester told us - but evidently, the word of the trained professional is not good enough for you!" Aemond raged, something in his heart snapping. "We are denied the right to meet our daughter because, what? What is it? You cannot reach Rhaenyra right now so you will take the closest thing - being my fucking wife!?"

"Aemond," Otto tried to step in, "perhaps this is getting out of hand."

"It was already out of hand," Aegon defended with a sharp snap, "the moment the Maester was ignored."

"You refuse to respect us," Aemond snapped at his mother, everyone silencing themselves when another tear fell down his cheek. "You refuse to respect us, to listen, and all for why? You think you know better than the Maesters? Or because she is daughter of Rhaenyra?"

"Aemond," Alicent warbled through her tears.

"You've gone too far," his head shook, devastation taking hold, "and I do hope you find deliverance from the Gods, because from me? I do not see how I can find a shred of ability to forgive such a sin."

It was quiet. Helaena's head was bowed, Aegon glared at his mother like Aemond; Otto frowned as he avoided all eye contact.

Imagine everyone's surprise when bare feet padded over the stone ground, two shaking hands raising to press into Aemond's stomach from behind. "My love," you mumbled softly, "please, do not speak so hatefully in this prolonged grief. We will do all we can do now and pray on this, but if we want to heal, we will need to learn to forgive. This was not a malicious, thought-out plan executed in partner with the co-conspiring weather; it was a terrible circumstance that the Gods have chosen us to endure. Your mother can pray for forgiveness, she's owed that right; and we will say our own, but I know that one day, we will be blessed and bring a child into this world. Because it's you and I, Aemond, and our child would be the full embodiment of the purest, truest love - and for something that perfect, we'll need time." You took a breath, looking sickly, gaunt; eyes full of tears as you ended, "But it is not this day."

Aemond turned to wrap his arms around you, insisting, "You should be resting." When he got you to turn to move for the bed again, he snarled at his mother, "She's the one who just lost a child and yet still defends you."

"Perhaps it's best we leave them alone," Aegon recommended. "We'll have meals sent for you both," he told his brother with a meaningful nod. "You both just take your time."

"Thank you," Aemond sighed, easing you back to the mattress; laying a single, thin sheet over your body. When Aegon had ushered everyone out, Aemond just stared down at you for a long moment, sighing sadly and whispering, "I'm so sorry, sweet love."

"Just lay with me," you requested.

He moved to strip himself of his linens, the heat still sweltering, and laid beside you; instantly cuddling you into his bare chest. Aemond knew you didn't want to talk, but this needed said, and he whimpered, "This is my fault."

"What?" You gaped, looking up at him in shock. You quickly pulled his leather eye patch off to force his full attention, holding his cheek and demanding, "What did you just say?"

"If you and I did not marry, if I had not pursued you - courted you," he shook his head, brows crinkled from restrained sobs, "we would not be in this position, you would not know this pain. We knew the tension in our family, we knew the hatred between our mothers, and still I wanted you. This is my fault, I shouldn't've done this - you should not have to endure this."

Your hand reached up to caress the side of his face; foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, warm the same space, sweat onto one another, but never wanting to be apart. It was a sticky embrace but you both needed it, and you hushed, "I regret nothing about us. Nothing, Aemond. If I knew how this would play out, I'd do it all again because I know I love you beyond words. Beyond," you giggled lightly, "rational thought, even. Aemond, everything you are, I adore, and all we are together is... It's the greatest pleasure of my life. My greatest honor."

"I do not deserve a woman like you."

"Perhaps not," you teased, "but you have me anyway. And what do we do with rare women, my Prince?"

His lips found yours in a sweeping kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. When he pulled back, he whispered, "We love them well."

A week later, King's Landing would find relief from the unwavering, record-breaking heatwave - only to be blasted by a wave of dragon fire. It was only then the Prince Aemond was seen with his wife for the first time since "The Throne Room Incident", and both were dressed in the traditional color of funerals: black.

You were bestowed an incredibly small bundle of black cloth, and with the rest of the Royal Family following, ventured to a distant hill where a funeral was to take place. Because your daughter was still so very tiny, she was laid in a fiery basin with only you and Aemond to preside over; offering prayer in High Valyrian. He held you close, the wind from the coast whipping all clothing around, and just behind everyone, Vhagar landed with a distinct thundering thud.

You didn't move, staring into the flames.

Aemond looked back, and when Vhagar saw the tears in her master's eye, noting the way he turned back to comfort you and grieve over your daughter, the dragon roared. A roar so loud, it was heard from the Riverlands. A roar so powerful, it shook the ground they all stood on. A roar so terrible, it made a few throats swell in emotion. A roar so sad, ballads would be written about it.

King's Landing might've been relieved from the weather's temperature, but as Vhagar felt her master mourning his daughter, she released an angry flame into the air that the citizens all felt.

For years, on the contrary, the entire city would feel Prince Aemond's cold shoulder to his mother, Queen Alicent, but for now, the heat of grief demanded to be felt.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #hotd #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen angst

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obsessivevoidkitten · 2 years

Text

A Dragon’s Loot

Alpha Dragon Hybrid Male x Omega Male Reader (CW: Non-con, breeding, biting, claiming, dragon man, inhuman genitals, a/b/o, knotting, overstimulation, musk/pheromones, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, ass eaten like it’s groceries, male reader) Word Count: 2.5k (I am so so so so sooooooo incredibly sorry that this took so long, it may not be my best work but I really did try. This was not beta read so please excuse any errors. This is for a trade with @reiyn02.)

The city you were living in had been almost entirely abandoned. It had walls, but was never made for a large siege, and those walls would be useless with enemies that were airborne anyway.. So the news that your town was next on the war path to be raided by the dragon hybrid forces sent everyone scrambling. But there was no help for those that had no family to help them and were otherwise too burdensome to relocate. And included in that small category was yourself. You were a male omega going through an extremely rough heat, you were in a significant amount of pain without anyone to assist you and were simply too distracting to travel with others. So instead of leaving among the guarded mass exodus you had boarded up your small abode the best that you could, using what little strength and willpower you had moving all your heaviest furniture to block the windows and door, before you tucked yourself away in a small hidden crawl space in the wall, behind the closet. You had even lit candles, incense, and rubbed herbs all around the house earlier in the day to hide your scent as much as it could be hidden, and it was nearly undetectable to your sensitive omega nose. With a little luck you would go unnoticed by the monstrous drakes that wanted to loot and destroy everything in their path. You had been waiting in your hiding space for several hours, you were burning up and your muscles ached from being so cramped for so long. You were beginning to let yourself believe that it had all been one giant false alarm, that the dragon men had decided to go back home or even raid another settlement instead. But then you heard a series of thunderous crashes. Judging from the noise the dragons had decided to crash the walls despite them certainly not needing to. After the falling of the walls you could hear the cacophony of draconic roars and cheering, the splintering of wood and the crack of stone as they broke into homes, and the stomp of their mighty feet as they stampeded all through the city. You had prayed that your meager building in a clearly poorer part of town would not draw attention, but you knew that was a long shot. And sure enough you soon heard stomps near your building before the sound of your door and makeshift barricade being brought down met your ears. Then you could hear the sounds of someone going through all of your possessions, you doubted they would find anything of value, but they were meticulous. Slowly you heard them get closer until finally they were inspecting the room you were holed up in. They searched every inch of the room and the closet but they did not find you. You burned with anxiety and your heat but it seemed like whoever the invader was was finally satisfied. You heard them head towards the door, finally you would be safe. But the soldier caught a whiff of something just as he was heading out of the room. It was tantalizing and beckoned him to investigate further. He did not know what it was exactly, but it caused his cock to twitch a bit in his leather armor. Dread filled your veins as you heard him sniffing the air and taking steps back towards the closet. You did your best to hold your breath and calm down, as panicked pheromones would serve only to make your scent more detectable. But it was no use, once he caught the smell of a fearful omega in heat there was nothing to be done. He still was not consciously aware of what the smell was, but on some primal level he knew. The draconic invader stuffed his head and upper body into the closet as his sniffing became louder and deeper. He tapped the wall with a claw and discovered it was hollow. It was over, he had found your crawl space. The false wall was easily moved aside as you frantically scooted as far back into the shadows as you could. But the scent of your heat cycle was overwhelming to him now with the false wall removed, and even if your pheromones were not a dead give away dragon hybrids had excellent low light vision and with his head now peering into your hideout he could see you clearly. A large claw tipped hand, covered in hard scales, reached in and easily plucked you right out. As you were unwillingly pulled into the light you got a look at the intruder for the first time. He was huge, at least 9 feet tall, all hulking muscle under light leather armor which struggled to contain his vast, intimidating, form. And his large white scaled wings and tail only served to make him look even larger. Scales also covered both his hands and legs and both ended in claws as well. He had long white hair and sharp silver horns. The dragon stared at you with cold icy blue eyes as you tried to struggle out of his grasp, clawing, biting, and thrashing wildly in every direction. You scratched his face and managed to draw some blood but he only responded by chuckling deeply as he grabbed your hand and used his long tongue to taste his bleeding claw mark. “Hahaha, a feisty little omega aren’t ya!? This is the first house I get to pillage and I already found the best loot in the whole damn city!” He chuckled again before pressing his nose to your neck and inhaling deeply. “Mmm~, all nice and in heat for me too. I bet you wanted to be found, everyone knows all dragon hybrids are alphas.” What he said was true, the magic anomaly that first fused drake and man produced hybrids that were all 100 percent alphas, and when they managed to raid human settlements they always took an opportunity to snatch up omegas to breed. But you were left with no other option but to stay and hide. The smell of your heat cycle was very compatible with him so it, combined with the excitement of the invasion and finding such a cute prize, was driving him into a frenzy. He simply could not wait to have you. He put you down in the nest you had made for yourself on the floor in the corner of the room and easily ripped apart your clothing as you thrashed and cried. “Calm down baby boy, this will feel great I promise. My name is Draven by the way, just so you know who’s name you will need to moan when you are on my knot~ It’s okay if you can’t find the words to tell me what your name is right now, I can just learn it later.” Tears were streaming down your face as you looked up and pleaded desperately, “No, please, no, no, no, please, take anything you want just pleas let me go!” But as he expertly removed his armor and you saw as well as smelled his arousal you knew there was no chance to escape your imminent rape. Even so you continued your pleading sobs and covered your nakedness with a blanket, as if a mere piece of fabric could protect you from the muscular man towering before you. Draven entered your nesting space, a severe violation to any omega, and easily took the blanket from you. You closed your legs tight and tried to smack him away but he just let out another chuckle. “Sorry babe, but I need to appraise all of my new property don’t you think?” And when you gave him the best kick you could right to his nose and caused the barest drop of blood to fall from his nostril it only encouraged him. He donned an excited grin and a deeply unsettling look in his eyes. “Damn I struck the jackpot!!! Such a lively mate! I can tell we are going to make a ton of strong children together~” You tried to kick him again, but he caught your ankle and held down your leg, then he held down the other before sliding both to your soft thighs. Draven then gently prodded your nuts with his nose and inhaled deeply. Your scent was divine to him. And he was now fully convinced you were his soulmate. You were in heat and left just for him to find, you were nice and lively and not overly submissive, and your scent was the best thing he had ever smelled. But while he was losing himself in your pheromones you were nearly gagging on his. The overwhelming smell of an aroused draconic alpha so close to you would have made your eyes water had you not already been crying. It was far stronger than any human alpha you had met and you were not at all accustomed to such a stench, even if it did make you produce more slick. But you were in heat, so the smell of any aroused alpha would have done that. “Please stop, I don’t want this. I don’t want this. Please…” “Calm down, just enjoy it, you’re in heat and this will make you feel better if you just let it.” Draven continued just enjoying your smell for what seemed like an eternity, with you powerless to push him away, but even after a perceived eternity it was nowhere near a long enough wait for what happened next. He spread your slick coated cheeks and licked your entrance free of delicious slick before eagerly slipping his large tongue in your ass. You shuddered and moaned involuntarily, hands grasping at the bedding beneath you, as the thick muscle moved surprisingly deep inside you. Draven’s tongue was covered with a torrent of more and more of your juices as he continued. When he finally withdrew himself from you you were a whimpering, drooling mess. You still wanted him to stop, but your body was definitely betraying you under all the stimulation, you were even starting to become less averse to his musk. Draven kissed your hole tenderly a few times before repositioning the two of you so that he was on his knees and your ass was pointing up towards his long slimy draconic cock. “Pl-please no…”, you barely managed to mumble coherently as you stared at the wall. Unable to look up and meet his intimidating gaze. But once again what you wanted did not really matter. All that mattered was what both your bodies craved and the fact that he wanted to follow his urges and was strong enough to get what he wanted. The dripping slick that was already once more seeping from your hole, combined with the deep massages provided by Draven’s talented tongue, allowed his prick to slide into you to the base effortlessly. “Uh… uhhh~”, you couldn’t help but moan as he filled you up so completely, his cock felt even hotter than your insides and the texture of it was like it was custom designed for the sole purpose of pleasing little needy human omegas. “Heh, not quite my name yet, but we’ll get you there soon enough~” You really wanted to doubt what he was saying was true, but at the rate things were going you had to admit to yourself that he was probably right. You did not want to give him the satisfaction of hearing your pleasured cries of his name fall from your lips, but everything he was doing felt so amazing and you were losing yourself in your heat and the over stimulation of mating with such a strong and virile alpha. Draven began greatly increasing the pace at which he was breeding his new cumpdump, his cock creating a faint outline in your belly each time he bottomed out within your slippery depths. Your pleasure induced writhing and squirming around his cock absolutely pushed him over the edge and his fat knot swelled inside of you as he pumped you full of cum. He was not done yet though, he had not made you cum or heard the delicious sound of you moaning out for him. While still stuck on his knot Draven picked you up and held you close, where you were much closer to his overpowering pheromones, and began fucking you all over again. You felt his knot rub up against your insides as he sped up even more than before. He was desperate to hear you submit to him by moaning his name, then he would leave his permanent claim mark on you. The powerful alpha used one hand to hold you close as he began jerking off your dick. The combination of being so enveloped in alpha scent, thoroughly fucked, and also receiving a handjob had you yearning for release. You began sobbing from the overwhelming mixture of sensations. Instinctively seeking your climax you grinded into his hand as he bounced you on his knot. “Dr-Draven!”, you finally called out as you came into his hand. “See? That wasn’t so hard was it baby boy?” He lifted his hand up to his lips and licked your seed from his fingers before pressing his lips to yours, sliding his tongue in so that you tasted your own flavor on him. You whimpered into the kiss before he broke it and licked and sucked your neck before biting down hard on the scent gland in your neck. In a mixture of pleasure and pain you let out a choked cry. After he marked you he carefully pressed his lips to the wound and licked it clean before kissing your forehead softly. “Such a perfect little mate for me~” You wanted to claw at him again but you were so exhausted, and it would do you no good since you were still stuck on his knot. And by this point his smell was strangely comforting to you. Maybe it was a side effect of being marked or maybe it was a biological defense that omegas had when being mated so they did not succumb to depression, you didn’t know. At any rate you figured you could scratch him up later, because as the pain in your freshly bitten neck subsided you became increasingly aware of just how tired you were. You allowed yourself to relax against his muscular chest and fall asleep in his arms as you let his pheromones and his gentle touches subdue you. Draven held you close, he figured he would give you some sleep for a few hours before the raid was over and his kind returned to their homeland. He was sure you would love living with him, he would give you his knot every chance he got, keep you covered in lovely bite marks, and make sure you felt nice and safe in your new nest. You were his prized possession, the crown jewel of his hoard, and just like any other item in the hoard of a territorial dragon, you would never leave.

#terato #yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere dragon #yandere dragon man #dragon hybrid #yandere x male reader #yandere alpha #yandere alpha x omega reader #omega reader #male reader #yandere a/b/o #a/b/o #omega male reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere monster #yandere monster boyfriend #My OCs #My OC Draven

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simpingforheros · 4 days

Text

Safe

Pairing: Gotham Knights! Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Being a mercenary isn’t easy. Being a lab experiment turned mercenary isn’t easy either. Being a Bio-engineered mercenary in Gotham city with a reformed Red Hood isn’t easy at all.

Warnings: Hurt Comfort, Angst with bittersweet ending, Enemies to Friends??, Female Pronouns, Mild Violence, Horrible Fight Scenes (I’m sorry), Reader is basically Black Cat but little different, implied OOC! Amanda Waller, Mentions of Death, Torture, PTSD, and Panic Attacks.

Author’s Note: I guess I’ll give y’all a break from my Toxic! Jason agenda. But I’m not giving y’all a break from calling y’all out on being slanderous to my underrated, unproblematic princess that is GK! Jason. He may not be as pretty as the other ones, but he got a better relationship with his family than y’all have with y’all’s daddies (jk I’m sorry). Also yes, the reader is Black Cat coded because I love her and I want to see Jason with a cool feline counterpart of his own.

+++++++++++++++++++

Fuck. FUCK!

Chanted through her mind as she realizes what the hell she has just done. This whole assignment was a set up from the moment that job listing hit her burner phone. Her clawed gloves raked through her hair as she desperately took in her situation.

Months after the death of Batman, criminals became bolder with their crimes despite the lurking remains of Batman’s legacy. New villains and mercenaries came in to either assist Gotham’s veteran rogues or building their own empires among the shadows of the bigger evil’s crimes. However, Y/N didn’t fall into either category.

Originally a lab rat for Amanda Waller to find a cure for her terminal cancer, the cat like mercenary became a quick popular option among gang leaders and the low life to hire to do quick jobs without minimum risk. Of course the cat like persona wasn’t due to her stealth…

A blast rings out of the previously locked door as the girl’s head snaps back. Her body collapses as the roar of victorious laughter fills the air.

“You see how that bitch’s head just snapped back like a twig?!” Victor Sionas laughed through his leather mask as his golden firearm flashed in the fluorescent light of the value.

It was supposed to be a quick heist, minimum risk on her end. Just grab a hard drive with 6.8 Billion dollars worth of stolen and encrypted medical documents and financial records and leave before Black Mask realized she was there. An easy heist for a fair reward.

Victor’s ranting and raving filled the safe in loud echos as his assistant tries to listen to her pager for their normal disposal team. As the crimson slowly sets into the concrete, a faint green glow began to form around her body. The harsh grit releases her life force as it recedes back into her skull.

Amanda Waller wasn’t normally a desperate woman, but when it came to her life, she didn’t care what criminal she had to deal with to get her life back. Even the League of Assassins…

As the pair was about to leave to attend a meeting of some kind, Y/N didn’t know or care to know as her ears ring back into tune. Her body jolts up as she springs back to life in an instant.

As her eyes meet Sionas’ shocked stare, her lips curled into a wicked smirk. Her E/C eyes shined with a new madness as she flexes her adamantium tipped claws, ready to rip out his throat.

Victor quickly raises his gun ready to shoot again as she swipes at his wrist. The appendage falling to the floor as his screams drowned out the echos of his false victories.

“I guess it was an easy job.” She comments before her claws strike again.

Maybe she should ask for a raise to make up for her dry cleaning?

+++++++++++++++

The crime scene was a bloodbath.

Police scrambled and crawled the building as lights and tape marked the massacre. Every surface, furniture, rug, and plant were all tagged, sprayed, and searched for any bodily matter that could lead you to the person behind this horrific crime.

Black Mask’s gang. A once prominent gang in Gotham city who survived fights between Batman and The Red Hood were all dead. Eviscerated. Slaughtered.

All of the dead were clinging onto weapons as either distinct claw marks either craved them to ribbons or they were killed by their own weapons. Whoever did it clearly attacked the ones who attacked first.

The only survivors were the ones who didn’t attempt to fight the assailant. Victor’s assistant was the only one that was harmed among them with a deep set of scratches on her face with a look of horror in her eyes.

A look Nightwing and Red Hood didn’t like to see even from a criminal.

“And you said you didn’t know why this happened?” Nightwing asks skeptical of the woman’s reliability.

The woman eagerly nods as she sputters out, “We caught her in the safe and Sionas wanted to teach her a lesson…we heard her reputation was only with stealing…not this…”

Jason growls as he grew inpatient with her stuttering, but he takes a deep breath. ‘Be Patient…’ He reminds himself before something made his ears perk up.

“It was like magic or something! Sionas shot her point blank in the head and she just came back to life in an instant!! That’s when she went crazy! We just wanted to get her back for stealing from our off shore accounts. We didn’t know that she was a…monster.”

Fuck.

+++++++++++++++++++

Fire. Fire is what it felt like. It crawls from the deepest part of her mind and spreads through her veins like a fever. Her vision tunneled in as memories of all her previous deaths haunting her brain surged forward as her body acted on instinct. Out of fear…

It took three days before the madness faded this time. That was probably the longest time she was trapped in that state since she escaped Waller. Those three days were a fog as she only remembered the splitting head ache from the gun shot and her costume covered in blood.

Once the new broke on a ‘maniac’ who killed the Black Mask’s gang, Y/N knew she couldn’t leave Gotham yet until the buzz died down. She already knew the Bat’s sidekicks were looking for her, so she used whatever cash she had left to hide out in a cheap motel room.

“Fuck….” She groans as her trembling hands dropped her cell phone. Her eyes tried to dart around the aisles of the gas station she was currently hunting for food in. The remaining madness caused her senses to be on high alert and her anxiety to be high.

If she was back home, she could hideout in her apartment with her cat for a month before finding another job listing, but she was trapped in Gotham in a ratty motel.

So venturing to the crummy gas station for some junk food and beer is the next best thing. At least the disinterested cashier doesn’t pay her any mind. 4am on a weekday with a case of beer probably made her just appear to be a normal tweaker.

(Y/N) adjusts her sunglasses and makes sure her silver hair was well hidden under her zip-up’s hood before she brings her items to the counter. The zit faced teen gives her a look over, not hiding the attention he gave to her exposed cleave from the tank top she had showing.

“Ma’am, we don’t allow sunglasses inside the store.” He creaks out. Her (E/C) roll as she takes her sun glasses off. The door chimes as someone enters the store, but her attention was focused on the cashier. When he finally scanned her beer, his cracking voice asks,

“Do you have ID, Ma’am?”

Her hands go to her sweatpants pocket and only feels the cash she brought. Her mental anguish grows as she sighs in annoyance. Her fake id was in motel, and she technically doesn’t exist so she never had a real id.

Deciding to turn up the charm, she smiles sweetly at the teenager as she says, “I’m sorry, but I left my id back at my place. I’m sure you can tell I’m old enough, right?”

Her cleavage seemed to not work its charm as the teen rudely says,

“I can tell you’re old by your hair lady. But I need ID.”

Her eyes widen as a faint glow of green shows as she snaps at him. “I’m not old! I’m 24, you little p-!”

She stops herself as she takes a deep breath as she feels the madness subsided. She really didn’t wanna kill a kid over some cheap beer.

“Fine…I had a bad day so just get me the snacks.” She admits in defeat as she pulls out a hundred bucks. Just as she was going to pay, a hand drops some beef jerky and a case of beer on the counter beside her items. A deep voice cuts the air and causes a shiver to crawl up her spine.

“Add her stuff and beer to my order.” A thick, veiny hand presents the cashier with his ID and a credit card as she turns her head to see who it was that saved her evening.

Before her was a man who stood well over 6 feet tall. His shoulders were as broad as an old oak tree with muscles strong enough to take one down. His face wasn’t particularly the normal standard for attractiveness, but the strong jaw and scar gave him a handsome roughness that made her stomach tighten. It didn’t help that his nearly buzzed hair gave him a military sense, but his eyes were what made her heart stop in her chest. The beautiful green eyes that glowed an unearthly hue that she was familiar with.

She sees it in her eyes everyday. The scar of the Lazarus pit.

(Y/N) almost forgot where she was before the cashier cleared his throat. Her focus returned back to the counter as she grabs her stuff. Before she could run off, something made her stop to wait for the man. Whether it was curiosity or stupidity, she didn’t know.

Maybe she wanted to see what his deal was? Was he with Waller? The League of Assassins? Can he tell she was from the pit too? How different were they? How many times did he die and come back?

The opportunity to speak with someone who may can relate to her outweighed her wariness from her situation. But it was curiosity that killed the cat, right?

As the man starts heading for the door, she follows as she says,

“Excuse me?”

His eyes meet hers as a small smile as he says,

“Hey, I’m sorry for stepping in over there. I understand when stuff isn’t going your way.”

A warmth takes over her face as she says shyly, “No, it’s fine I just wanted to thank you. That was really sweet of you…”

As the two walk out, the stranger's friendly demeanor drops a little as he mumbles into the empty night air.

"So, you're the one who killed Victor Sionas..."

Her breath releases as she hears the pin drop. Her eyes dart around the parking lot as she sees the only vehicle is a old school motorcycle. She doesn't have any weapons and she wasn't sure if how skilled he was or if he had gained powers just like her from the pit.

With a frown, (Y/N) gruffs out, "Yeah...what are you gonna let me enjoy my last beer before you turn me in?"

She looks up to the man as their eyes meet. His eyes studying her as she keeps a tight grip on her bag. Maybe if he charges at her, she can swing the bag to his head and throw him off...

"No." He answers simply as he heads towards his bike. Her eyes widen in disbelief as she sputters out.

"No? I just admitted to murder and you're letting me go??"

"Yep." He answers over his shoulder as he loads his things into the compartment under his seat. Irritation fills her being instead of the relief she should have felt. She stomps towards him as she fusses,

"What's your deal? You buy me a beer and casually ask me if I commit murder? And you're gonna just leave? Did the pit mess you up that bad??" She snaps at him as she stands face to face, face to chest with him. Her eyes glowed eerily as he was filled, and a familiar shiver went down his spine.

His hands clap onto her shoulders as he pulls her close to him. A wave of coldness filled her body as the eerie glow covered his hands. The familiar feeling of the Lazarus pit filled her as he leaned into a whisper.

"The only reason I'm not hauling your pretty ass to Arkham right now is because I understand that it wasn't you when you killed them, Kitty..." His eyes glowed momentarily as a sad look briefly flashed into those green pools. "A petty mercenary who had no history of mass murder on file doesn't just jump to it without warning. The Lazarus Pit fucks up people to their core, so trust me when I say that I understand better than anyone how you feel..."

'Understand? How can he understand?' Her mind unravels as she looks up at him in disbelief. Has he ever woke up afraid of what he might have done the night before? Worry about when someone would come and shoot him in the head or stab him just to see if he could come back without being submerged anymore? Did Waller use him to heal her at the expense of his own pain just to throw him away to fend for himself???

Rage flashes through her as she roughly pulls away from him. Her bag falls to the asphalt as glass shatters. Her eyes are wild as old memories filled her. "Don't you dare say you understand me? You don't know shit about what I had to go through?"

His eyebrows frown together as he grimaces. A look of recognition and guilt flashes before he says to her. "You're right. I don't know what you went through before you died, but I do understand how you're feeling. The anxiety, the rage, the blood lust...I wanna help you."

She laughs bitterly as she figures out something about him. He only died once and was brought back. The skunk stripe in his hair should have given it away when she realized he was similar to her.

"Which time?" (Y/N) asked as she turned around and walked away. "I've died plenty of times to know that you will never understand..."

And she leaves the man alone in the parking lot as she storms off to her motel, not caring if he sees where she went or not. Her heart was beating out of control as she felt the wavering thoughts of going back to him and either hitting him or hugging him.

‘Maybe I need to rest some more….’

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Silence filled the museum as the dust bunnies and art laid undisturbed during their rest from the public eye. Her footsteps were a minimum as she walked through the shadowy parts of the building, trying to find what she was sent to retrieve.

After another week of hiding out, a job was directly pinged for her on the job board. Her eyes squinted at it at first because the offer was a little bogus to her.

‘Steal a painting, retrieve the hard drive inside, and bring it to the disclosed location in exchange for 2 Million dollars in unmarked bills.’

2 Million for a petty thief job that would have more suited Catwoman instead her seemed pretty unusual. But, at this point, her phyiscal cash funds were running low and she still was afraid of using her offshore accounts now that she knows that some zombie like her knew who she was.

Her masked eyes scanned the building’s plaza until she found what she was looking for. A large flowery portrait hanging just beyond the fountain. Her head tilts as she looks at it from afar.

‘Pretty… I wonder if I can find a print of it to buy to hang in my living room…’ Her steps remaining slow and cautious until she reaches the fountain. She looks under where the painting hung, trying not to get too close to it. There was no tag or podium that held the artist’s name or any indication that it was an actual art piece. It was most likely some print from a furniture store catalog or Etsy.

Her eyes rolled as she realizes that the listing was another trap. Obviously from someone who didn’t know shit about art or how to buy mercenaries on the black market.

As if on que, her ears buzzed as she heard the pure instinct take over as she whips around. Her hand immediately stops the staff about to hit her in the face as she elbows the smaller opponent in the stomach before slamming her fist in his cheek to knock him back. The guy gets thrown back a couple of feet as he gasped for the air she punches outta him.

She looks to the guy as she twirls his staff absent mindedly in her hand. His costume and smaller physique gave it away as to who he was. She remembers seeing a tv show story about him the previous night on the news. The boy wonder, Robin. At least the third version of him.

“Hey, tweety bird. You good?” She asked in a nonchalant tone. Her eyes unamused as she watches the kid cough up a lung as he looked up at her in shock that she wasn’t attacking him like he expected her to.

“You know, it’s dangerous to be on job listing boards like that.” She scolds him lightly as she walks around him and grabs his arm, gently helping him up and sitting him by the fountain. “There’s actual killers on that board who would have happily tried cutting you up for pulling a shitty fake job like this.”

The sidekick glares at her as he was already confused as he just witness the girl he was sure killed an entire gang just casually scold him. “Like how you did with Black Mask?”

Her eyes flashed with guilt before the nonchalant personality appeared again as she focused on throwing the staff up to make it spin. “It was self defense. He and his gang had it coming for all the child drug peddling and the lives he ruined.”

A heavier drop down of three other figures caught her attention as she looks around. Nightwing, Batgirl, and Red Hood were surrounding the fountain, blocking her in. Her anxiety rising as she hides it with a now playful smile.

“Damn, didn’t realize little old me warranted for the whole family to come get me.” She says playfully. “Don’t worry I promise to be out of y’all’s city soon.”

“You still have to pay for your crimes.” Batgirl says as she steps forwards slightly. The feline mercenary tilts her head as she looks at them with now false concern.

“Me? A defenseless street cat?” She asked before laughing. “You can certainly try.”

Nightwing steps closer as her shoulders square up. Her defensive stance rising as she observes him. Way too lean to be the guy she met, and she can tell his face was more pretty boy looking.

“We wanna help you… but you still have to pay for what you’ve done even if you didn’t mean to.” He says softly.

‘So they know…that just means they are gonna be more defensive instead of offensive. They can’t risk killing me when they know I could rampage again.’ Her eyes shine as she laughs coldly at him.

“Oh, you wanna help me rot in prison?” She says as she finally looks at the Red Hood.

Right build, right height, and she’s sure if she can knock that helmet off, right face. That’s the man she met a week ago that affected her so badly. She knew she couldn’t let him get a good grab on her or she maybe toast.

She turns her now glowing eyes back to Nightwing as she smirks. “I think you would be better off letting me leave or else you can see what I actually do when I mean it.” She bluffs.

Movement nearly catches her off guard as Robin tries to rush her again. The staff in her hand flies into his face as she tries to move as Batgirl flies kicks her in the face. Her ears ring as the warm feeling of blood starts to run out of her nose. The cat catches the bat’s fist before she whips her in the face with another punch. She used the disorienting blow to slide under her legs and give a good kick to her knee. The distinctive pop and her cry lets her know she did dislocate the bone.

She remains in her crouched up position, ready to pounce. She can feel their eyes observing as her broken nose begins to heal as it disgustingly pops back into place as the blood retreats back to its original place like it was on rewind. Her wild eyes looks to them and makes notes of their stances.

Nightwing was ready to pounce on her. He stared at her like she was the wild animal that he knew she was. It was a look she was used to.

The Red Hood wasn’t even in an offensive or defensive position. He stood with his back straight as he watches her. Damn his stupid helmet from seeing his eyes, she wanted to know what he was thinking about. Was he bluffing too or was he trying to get a good feel on how to catch her.

Before Nightwing can start advancing on her, Red stops him with a step forward and raises hand. Nightwing looks confused as he asked him.

“What are you doing?” He seethes to him. “We gotta take her down, she already hurt Robin and Batgirl.”

“Out of self defense.” The Red Hood clarifies before chuckling. His modulated voice making the feline theft frown. “If she was dangerous like you think, she could have sliced Robin’s throat with those claws of hers when he first attacked. You guys were attacking first and she responded with non lethal force.”

Her eyes glared at the man as she stands up, slightly agitated. “So? Maybe I just don’t wanna kill a kid?”

Red tilts his head as he turns his attention to her. “Calm down, Kitty….if you surrender, I promise I won’t let them send you off to the pound.”

Nightwing looks at Red in horror as he basically promised to protect a wanted criminal. He didn’t seem to concerned by it. He even surprises his team by removing his helmet as he looks to the one they were chasing.

“I found your file on Amanda Waller’s network. Took me three days, but I know what she did to you, (Y/N).” The man she knew from the gas station.

The images of all the torture she endured flashed through her mind all at once as she remembers all Waller put her through for the sake of her cure.

Multiple executions to test the powers of the pit. Torture and savage punishments for the slightest disobedience. The nightmares and madness that fueled so many panic attacks. The feeling of her organs stolen to be put in that evil woman so she can use her healing factor to win against cancer while she spent days slowly dying and coming back to life over and over until her new organs regenerated back into her.

“Why?!” She snaps at him as rage filled her again. Her confusion over his insistence to help her made her so angry. Why would he wanna help her? Just because they were both dunked in a pool of Ra’s bath water?

“You’re the feared Red Hood! You’ve done worst shit than I’ve ever done and you are trying to act as my savior?!” She yells at him as she stomps towards him.

Nightwing tries to step between them, but Red keeps him away as she finally stood before him. Her hand rips off her goggles, revealing her face to him as she pokes into his chest. Her own chest tightening as her body shook. Her breath was tight as angry tears rolled down her face.

“Answer me, dammit! Why do you think you can save me?!”

“I don’t think I can save you.” He answers honestly. “I wanna help you save yourself…”

A look of grief passes over his eyes as he looks at the shorter woman. A memory of someone she didn’t know making his resolve strengthen.

“I was trapped in a state of anger for so long that I pushed everyone away that was trying to help me…it wasn’t until I lost the one person that tried to save me that I realized how much it meant to have someone just hold a hand out for me…” He says as he grips her shoulders. The expected coldness didn’t meet her. She felt him. The warmth seeping through his gloves into her suit. It felt…comforting….nice.

Her vision began tunneling as she felt her chest hyperventilating as she cries. His gentle words finally breaking her as he mumbles to her. “Let me help you fight the madness so you won’t be alone anymore…”

Her knees buckling as a sob broke through her. The warmth of his arms wrapping around her and pulling her into his chest made her cries so gut wrenching. Robin, Batgirl, and Nightwing watch in shock as they watched Jason, not only be the most gentle he’s ever been with someone, but see a stray tear fall from him eye.

As the two remained tied together as an unspoken bond was formed. A bond between two lost souls forcibly brought back into this world now feeling safe in each other’s warmth.

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Author’s Note: I’m gonna make a part 2 to this one because I actually like it. Let me know if you like this, if you hate it, or whatever. I’m trying to clear out my drafts so expect more Jason and other characters coming out either this week or next week.

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@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE THE COPYING, STEALING, OR REPOSTING OF MY FANFICS ON OTHER WEBSITES WITHOUT MY CONSENT.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #arkham knight #arkham knight x reader #red hood #arkham knight jason todd #arkham knight x you #jason todd x y/n #batman arkham series #jason todd x you #gotham knights #gotham knights! Jason Todd x Reader #GK!Jason Todd #simpingforheros

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cherryl4na · 3 months

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ `"lamborghini miura and date nights pt. 1"

abstract || you and lando enjoy life outside of all the chaos that comes with him being 'The Ace'

fem!reader || fluff. steamy. mafia au. lamborghini miura. will be a pt. 2. heavily inspired by the suit at a mclaren event and the outfit at cannes. 3.6k words

Lando Norris’ penthouse is the epitome of luxury and power, a sanctuary high above the city’s restless heartbeat. The expansive living space is a testament to modern elegance, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the skyline, the city lights twinkling like distant stars.

When stepping out of the private elevator, you’re greeted by a foyer with polished marble floors, leading into an open-concept living area. The décor is a blend of classic and contemporary, with rich, dark wood paneling and sleek, minimalist furniture. A grand piano sits in one corner, its black lacquer finish reflecting the soft glow of the overhead designer lighting.

The lounge area is dominated by a large, plush sofa that faces a state-of-the-art entertainment system, and a glass coffee table holds an array of high-end spirits and crystal decanters. Original artworks adorn the walls, and a collection of rare books fills the built-in shelves, revealing Lando’s taste for the finer things in life.

The dining area features a long, ebony dining table surrounded by leather-upholstered chairs, perfect for hosting intimate gatherings or conducting discreet business meetings. Adjacent to it is a gourmet kitchen, fitted with professional-grade appliances and a sleek breakfast bar.

The penthouse also boasts a private gym, a spa-like bathroom with a Jacuzzi and a rain shower, and a walk-in wardrobe that houses an impressive collection of designer suits and racing memorabilia.

Lando’s personal quarters are a sanctuary within a sanctuary. The master bedroom is spacious, with a king-sized bed taking center stage, draped in the finest silk linens. A private balcony extends from the bedroom, offering a secluded spot to take in the breathtaking views or simply enjoy a moment of solitude.

Every detail in Lando’s penthouse speaks of a man who commands respect and enjoys his success, yet values privacy and comfort above all else. It’s a space that’s both a showpiece and a retreat, reflecting the complex character of ‘The Ace’ himself.

As of now, the evening had settled over the city like a velvet shroud, the skyline a jagged silhouette against the twilight sky. Inside the luxurious penthouse, Lando Norris watched you with an intensity that belied his calm exterior.

You stood before the full-length mirror, the soft fabric of your Versace dress cascading down in waves of midnight blue, a stark contrast to the elegance of your skin. The room was filled with the quiet rustle of silk and the subtle scent of vanilla from your perfume. It was a rare occasion, this dance of preparation, and Lando found himself captivated by the ritual.

He leaned casually against the mahogany door frame, arms crossed over his chest covered with a white Nordstrom silk shirt that has been left unbuttoned just slightly to exude enough sensuality but keeping it decent, his two usual gold chains around his thick, tan neck as his eyes followed your every move. There was something about the way you moved, the confidence in your gestures, that drew him in. It was a dance he had seen many perform but none with such genuine disregard for the world’s expectations.

“You don’t have to impress anyone,” Lando finally spoke, his voice a low rumble in the opulent room.

You met his gaze in the mirror, a small smile playing on your lips. “I’m not trying to impress,” you replied, your voice steady. “I’m trying to remember who I am beyond all this,” you gestured vaguely, encompassing the grandeur of the room and, by extension, the life you had found yourself entwined in.

Lando pushed off from the doorframe, his steps silent on the plush carpet as he approached. “And who are you exactly, in this world?” he asked, stopping just a breath away from you.

You turned to face him, the intensity of his gaze compelling you to answer with truth. “Someone who still believes in a bit of normality, even in a world as cynical as ours.”

His chuckle was soft, a sound that warmed you more than any embrace. “Then perhaps this will serve as a reminder,” Lando said, producing a small, black velvet box from his pocket.

He opened it to reveal a delicate gold chain, from which hung a pendant crafted in the shape of a lotus, its petals open as if reaching for the last rays of the sun. “The lotus blooms in the mud,” he murmured, his fingers deft as he clasped the necklace around your neck.

The lotus flower, revered across cultures and spiritual traditions, embodies profound symbolism and meaning. Emerging from muddy waters yet remaining unstained, it symbolizes purity of heart, mind, and spirit. Its ability to bloom immaculately amidst adversity speaks to resilience and strength, teaching us to persevere and flourish despite life's challenges.

It serves as a timeless metaphor for the human experience — a reminder that through adversity, purity, and spiritual growth, we can rise above the murky waters of life and blossom into our fullest potential.

You reached up to touch the pendant, its cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of his fingers still lingering on your skin. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, gratitude lacing your words. Lando stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours. “As are you,” he said, not as a compliment, but as a simple statement of fact.

With a smile that matched the warmth of his words, you followed Lando out of his luxurious penthouse. The evening air greeted you with a gentle breeze as you made your way towards the private garage, where a sleek, vintage Lamborghini Miura awaited. Its navy paint gleamed under the soft glow of the penthouse's exterior lights, exuding elegance and power in equal measure.

"You're driving this?" you asked, your voice a mixture of surprise and excitement, a smile slowly inching its way on your face.

Lando nodded, a playful glint in his eyes as he held open the passenger door for you. "Well, how else did you think we’d travel? I figured we could take a little drive before our reservation. Trust me, it'll be an experience you won't forget."

As you move to settle into the plush leather seat, Lando places a hand on your head to make sure it’s protected from the roof of the car. Heading around the car, Lando enters the driver side, and effortlessly starts the engine, causing the powerful rumble to fill the air around you. The car eased out of the garage with grace, navigating the city streets with the familiarity of a seasoned driver. The night enveloped you both, the city lights painting a canvas of twinkling stars overhead.

With each turn and straight away, the Lamborghini carried you through the cityscape, the wind whispering secrets as it tousled your hair. In the midst of this exhilarating journey, Lando's presence beside you remained a constant source of comfort and excitement, his occasional glance your way a silent promise of more adventures to come.

As you ventured further into the night, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the hum of the engine and the shared moments between you and Lando. In the soft glow of passing street lamps, you realized that this impromptu drive wasn't just about the destination—it was about the connection forged in the quiet moments between heartbeats, where each glance and smile spoke volumes about the budding romance in the air.

And as the Lamborghini carried you both towards an unknown horizon, you couldn't help but feel that this night was just the beginning of a journey filled with endless possibilities, where every twist of fate was waiting to be explored together.

With each mile that passed beneath the Lamborghini's wheels, the cityscape transformed into a mesmerizing blur of lights and shadows. Lando navigated the streets with effortless precision, occasionally stealing glances at you, his expression a mix of anticipation and contentment.

As the vibrant pulse of the city gradually gave way to quieter, tree-lined avenues, the Lamborghini slowed to a stop in front of a stately building adorned with ivy-covered walls and softly glowing lanterns. You looked up, realizing you had arrived at a charming and exclusive restaurant known for its exquisite cuisine and intimate ambiance.

Lando turned off the engine, and the sudden silence enveloped you like a comforting embrace. He stepped out of the car, swiftly coming around to open your door with a gentlemanly flourish. As you emerged, the cool evening air wrapped around you, carrying with it the tantalizing aroma of fine dining and the promise of a memorable evening ahead.

The entrance of the restaurant welcomed you with a warm glow from within, casting a soft halo around Lando as he extended his hand, inviting you to walk with him towards the door. You accepted graciously, feeling a flutter of excitement mingled with a touch of nervousness. This evening had already surpassed any expectations you might have had, and yet, you couldn't help but wonder what surprises lay in store.

Inside, the ambiance was elegant yet inviting, with soft music playing in the background and flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over linen-covered tables. The maître d' greeted you warmly, confirming your reservation and guiding you both to a secluded corner table with a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

As you settled into your seats, Lando's gaze met yours across the table, his eyes sparkling with a quiet intensity that mirrored your own emotions. The evening stretched out before you like an uncharted path, each moment unfolding with a delicate grace that seemed to deepen the connection between you.

Conversation flowed effortlessly between bites of exquisitely prepared dishes and sips of fine wine, punctuated by shared laughter and stolen glances that spoke volumes. In the intimate setting of the restaurant, surrounded by the soft murmur of other diners and the gentle hum of city life beyond the windows, it felt as though time had slowed to a perfect cadence, allowing you both to savor every fleeting second together.

And as the night progressed, you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, attraction, and a growing sense of intimacy that seemed to bloom with each passing moment. Across the table, Lando's smile was a beacon of warmth, his presence a reassuring anchor in the sea of possibility that stretched out before you.

As dessert arrived, accompanied by a flourish of culinary artistry that mirrored the magic of the evening itself, you couldn't help but marvel at how a spontaneous drive in a Lamborghini had led to this moment of shared connection and undeniable chemistry between you and Lando.

The restaurant hummed with a subtle buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses, yet your attention was solely on the man sitting across from you. Lando, with his easy charm and magnetic presence, had swept you off your feet from the moment you met. His laughter was infectious, his stories captivating, and as the evening progressed, you found yourself drawn deeper into his orbit.

The evening had been filled with unexpected turns—a scenic drive through desert landscapes that stretched endlessly under a starlit sky, conversations that ranged from lighthearted banter to deeper musings about life and dreams. Each moment seemed to unfold effortlessly, as if fate had orchestrated this encounter.

And now, as dessert was served—a masterpiece of flavors and presentation—you felt a surge of anticipation mingled with a hint of nervous excitement. Lando caught your gaze, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and admiration. Without a word, he reached across the table, his hand finding yours with a gentle yet confident touch.

"Care to dance?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with a magnetic charm that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't resist the invitation, nor did you want to. With a smile that matched his own, you nodded, allowing him to lead you onto the small, cleared space between tables where other diners watched with subtle curiosity.

As "Hola Senorita" by GIMS and Maluma began to play softly in the background, Lando pulled you close, his hand firm on your waist as he guided you in a slow, sensual sway to the seductive rhythm of the music. The heat of his body pressed against yours, sending a wave of electricity through every nerve ending.

In that intimate embrace, the world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the two of you moving together in perfect synchronization. His touch was both gentle and possessive, his gaze never leaving yours as if trying to convey a thousand unspoken words.

The sensual dance unfolded like a whispered promise of what could be—an unspoken acknowledgment of the undeniable chemistry that simmered beneath the surface. Each step, each turn spoke volumes of desire and connection, drawing you closer to Lando in ways words could never capture.

As the song neared its end, you found yourself breathless yet exhilarated, caught up in the intensity of the moment shared between you. Lando's lips curved into a tender smile as he guided you back to the table, where dessert awaited—a sweet ending to a night that had begun with a drive and culminated in a dance that resonated with the magic of newfound connection and possibility.

And deep down, beneath the surface of whispered promises and shared glances, you knew that this evening was only the beginning—a prelude to a story waiting to unfold, where each chapter would be written in the tender moments and stolen kisses that danced on the edge of tomorrow.

After settling the bill, not without a bit of banter over who pays, you both stepped out into the cool night air, the echoes of laughter and shared stories still resonating between you. The Lamborghini awaited, a sleek silhouette against the dimly lit street, its engine purring with restrained power.

"Where to now?" you asked, half in jest, half in earnest curiosity.

Lando grinned, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, "Anywhere but here."

With that, you slipped into the passenger seat with his help of course, the leather embracing you with its luxurious warmth. The engine roared to life, the city lights streaking past in a blur as you navigated the winding roads together. The night was young, and so were you, in this ephemeral moment where time seemed to slow down just for the two of you.

Conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving through dreams and aspirations, fears and triumphs, each revelation knitting your souls closer together. It was as if the universe conspired to create this perfect interlude, where nothing existed beyond the confines of the Lamborghini and the burgeoning connection between you.

As the city lights began to fade into the rearview mirror, you found yourselves on a quieter stretch of road, surrounded by a tapestry of stars overhead. The car slowed to a stop, and you both stepped out onto an overlook, the city sprawling below like a sea of twinkling lights.

Lando's eyes held yours, their intensity magnified by the intimacy of the moment. You could feel his heartbeat, steady and reassuring, echoing the rhythm of your own. The night draped around you like a velvet cloak, cocooning you in a world where only the two of you existed.

His hand found yours, fingers intertwining effortlessly as if they had always belonged together. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver of anticipation through you, a silent invitation to let go of any lingering doubts or hesitations.

Leaning closer, his breath mingled with yours, warm against your lips. The air crackled with unspoken words, each heartbeat resonating like a whispered promise of what could be. You could smell the subtle scent of his cologne, a comforting familiarity that grounded you in the present moment.

When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was like a symphony of emotions unfolding in slow motion. Soft yet insistent, his kiss spoke of desire tempered with tenderness, a delicate balance of passion and restraint. Time seemed to stretch and bend around you, the world narrowing down to the sensation of his lips moving against yours, tracing the contours of a connection that defied words.

His arms encircled you, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The warmth of his embrace cocooned you in a sanctuary of shared vulnerability, where every touch and caress spoke volumes of unspoken longing and mutual understanding.

Under the canopy of stars, the Lamborghini Miura stood sentinel, bearing witness to a moment that transcended the mundane. The engine's purr became a backdrop to the symphony of your shared breaths, the quiet rustle of fabric as you leaned into each other, seeking solace and passion in equal measure.

As the kiss deepened, the world around you faded into insignificance. There was only the taste of him on your lips, the press of his body against yours, and the electric current that surged between you, binding your souls in a dance as ancient as time itself.

In that timeless embrace, you felt a surge of emotion swell within you—love in its purest form, unguarded and unfiltered. It was a declaration whispered in the language of touch and sensation, a silent vow that this connection was worth cherishing, nurturing, and exploring with every fiber of your being.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and exhilarated, Lando's eyes held a glimmer of unspoken promises yet to be fulfilled. His thumb gently brushed against your cheek, a tender gesture that spoke of reverence and devotion.

In the quiet aftermath, as you stood entwined under the stars, you knew that this night had forever altered the course of your story together. Each heartbeat echoed the cadence of a new beginning, where the chapters ahead would be written in the shared moments of vulnerability, passion, and the unwavering bond forged in the embrace of that unforgettable night.

Feeling the cool metal of the Lamborghini Miura against your back, you smiled as Lando drew you close, his touch tender yet commanding. His fingers traced a delicate path along your jawline, sending a thrill through you that echoed in the warm summer night around you.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both soft and consuming, a perfect blend of longing and urgency. You leaned into him, feeling the strength of his embrace against the smooth, cool surface of the car's hood beneath you. The night seemed to hold its breath as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours, the mingling of your breaths creating an intimate symphony.

His hands, strong yet gentle, explored your back with a reverence that made your heart race before finally reaching their destination. He grips the back of your plush thighs in a way that makes you feel weak all over. The hood of the car digs into you as he places you gently on it, moving to stand between your legs.

Making this moment as intimate as possible, his veiny hands move to grip your waist and pull you closer till there is absolutely no space between the two of you. Every touch, every caress deepened the connection between you, amplifying the heat that coursed through your veins. Time seemed to stand still as you savored each moment, each kiss a testament to the unspoken desire and passion that burned between you.

In that moment, surrounded by the soft night air and the distant murmur of the city, you were entwined in a dance of intimacy and yearning, where nothing else existed except the electricity of his soft lips against your own, his touch caressing you as if you’re made of glass.

As you both pull away from each other, the air between you thick with unspoken words and the promise of what the future might hold, Lando reaches out to gently stroke your cheek. His touch is warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine that have nothing to do with the cool night air.

"Let's head back," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with emotion, lips plumped up and red. You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of contentment settling over you like a soft blanket. Together, you gather yourselves and step back towards the waiting Lamborghini Miura.

The drive back to Lando's penthouse is quiet, the purr of the engine providing a soothing soundtrack to your thoughts. You steal glances at each other from time to time, exchanging small smiles that speak volumes about the bond you've forged this evening.

Arriving at the penthouse, Lando parks the car with practiced ease. He takes your hand as you both exit the vehicle, his touch reassuring and grounding. The night feels alive with possibilities as you step into the elevator, riding it up to his luxurious apartment high above the city.

Inside, the penthouse is a sanctuary of modern elegance and comfort. Lando leads you to a balcony overlooking the glittering skyline, where the city lights twinkle like stars in the night sky. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you close as you lean against the railing together.

"This night," he begins softly, his voice carrying a hint of wonder, "it feels like everything has changed, but at the same time, hasn’t."

You turn in his arms to face him, your heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his eyes. "It has," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "In the best possible way."

Lando smiles, a smile that reaches his eyes and fills you with warmth. "I'm glad," he says, leaning in to kiss you gently for the third time that night, as if sealing a promise made by the night itself.

And as you stand there, in each other's arms, the Lamborghini Miura waits below like a silent witness to the beginning of your love story — a story that started with a car, a journey, and two hearts finding their way to each other.

an || hey guys! i've had this in the works since early june and finally got around to semi finishing it. this will have a pt 2 and i apologize if it takes a while to come out. hope you enjoyed this and there will be more to come! and to my girls, you know who you are, i hope you loved this.

#f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #f1 drivers x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff

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hometoursandotherstuff · 8 months

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Today, we have a bunker for sale. It's not as interesting as a decommissioned missile tower. "Originally constructed in the 1960s at a cost of $4.5 million, an equivalent value today exceeding $34 million, this bunker represents the pinnacle of security and resilience." Located in Polo, Missouri, 35 min. from Kansas City, it has 4bds, 2ba, $2M.

The entrance hall has an industrial look, but they tired to make the home look elegant.

It has 2 massive 3,000 pound blast doors, 2.5-foot-thick concrete walls, additional layers of earth & EMP-resistant copper shielding, plus an emergency escape hatch and a towering 177-ft communication tower.

it's roomy- look at the size of the living room. One must wonder why people decorate these with traditional furniture. It needs colorful, modern stuff.

There's a bar for entertaining.

One of the bathrooms.

This is a soundproof room- it's not as if there are any neighbors around, though.

They have a home office here.

Laundry and stuff. The self-sufficient home has a private water well, a pump, and a 10,000-gallon stainless steel water storage tank, all connected to a Water Filtration System.

And, here's your new hobby- it's a glass blowing studio. I wonder if the owner would teach the new owner how to use it.

Looks like a massive air system.

Above the workshop is a large loft area.

There's a family room- notice the windows above, they are for some of the bedrooms. There's also supposed to be a home theater room, but it's not shown.

On the 2nd fl. is the 2nd bath. Not liking the hole in the wall behind the toilet.

This is the kitchen.

This is an odd place to locate the kitchen w/all this other equipment.

Through the kitchen you can see the upstairs living room.

You can see that the kitchen is on the other side.

The bedrooms are off a hall off of the living room.

The bedrooms.

This area serves as a closet.

The plot of land is 10.5 acres and the real estate description suggests that you can built your dream home on it, over the bunker.

#bunker for sale #desert property #unusual homes #house tours #houses #home tour

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year

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Today's technology industry is all about one thing: selling dumb shit to idiots, then going bankrupt. You might not think that this is a profitable business, and you'd be right. One of these days, I'll figure out exactly why this keeps happening, but in the meantime, these companies sure leave a lot of waste behind.

There's the obvious things: office furniture, giant neon signs of the founder's head, the occasional electrical test gear. What you don't think of is transportation. Every big company, though, is gonna need at least one company car. You can't ask the employees to drive their own cars across town for a business meeting, and the not-really-a-taxi taxi service just shut down and set off a bomb in their headquarters to stick it to the landlord.

Usually, these cars are one of the first things to go. Cars are easy to get rid of, especially fleet cars. Everyone needs one, they're a durable store of value, and you can do skids with them. Mostly, though, they're too big for the auditors to miss, even when they're working in a hurry before the sheriff padlocks their access to the supply warehouse. That was the case with the local scooter rental company, which went belly up a few weeks ago and left electric scooters strewn all over the city, their modems blinking in search of a server that was now partially dismantled and used to mine Poochpoints in Southeast China.

Although I had to fight off a lot of other scrappers when I heard the news, I still managed to fill an entire trunk full of the scooters. Which means it's finally time for me to go electric, although I admit that the conventional view of a motor vehicle by Big Government is not "thirty-six electric scooters leashed together and controlled like a dogsled, careening the back third of a Dodge Neon through the city at upwards of a buck-eighty." Really a failure of imagination on their part. That's why they need the forward-looking innovation of these brave founders who aren't afraid to go bankrupt doing whatever crackhead shit they came up with this week. Keep changing the world, that's what I say.

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 months

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1000 Nights: Night 1 - Wedding Night

WORDS: 1.5K

RATING: T

PAIRING: Gale x Tav (post game pairing)

SUMMARY: A journey of 1000 miles begins with the first step. And Gale & Tav's first night of 1000 begins after their wedding. [aka: starting my 1000 Nights series]

Ao3

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It was very late into the evening by the time the wedding was over. More drawing into the early morning, if he was being honest.

Gale had forgotten, away from his family for so long as Mystra’s Chosen and then his own personal confinement, how lively his family could be. And how large. He had warned Tav but honestly hadn’t realized himself. It took nearly half the night to just greet everyone, much less have conversations.

Tav took to it like a fish to water, however. Her bright smile and friendly disposition winning everyone over simply with the gift of her presence. His mother doesn’t even have to introduce her to everyone, but he’s glad she did.

When he returned to Waterdeep, restraining himself from running into his mother’s arms like child, Gale introduced her & Tav and told her of their plans to be married. Morena had not been as…. delighted as he had hoped initially. She wasn’t disappointed, or even chastised him for rushing into things. All she simply asked was, “is this really what you want?” Which Gale had to admit was a perfectly reasonable question.

They hadn’t known each other long. Their plight had made it feel like they had known each other for decades. In reality, their romance was quite a whirlwind. They had lived in different cities, come from different backgrounds. Gale had never met her family or friends they had before all this. Hells he didn’t even know what her favorite taste in music was. Art. Literature. Values.

But all he could think of when his mother asked him, glancing over to the other side of the room at Tav chatting with Tara, like it was a completely normal thing to be talking to a Tressym, was “more than anything.”

The wedding planning had taken up most of their time after that, and a lot of those trivial things came to light by sheer luck. Gale found out she preferred lilies to roses, unless they were blue hydrangeas. She liked classical music, which was a blessing. And although she liked the sound of Lliirian Suites on a self-playing piano, she liked them better on the strings. Gale made a note to buy a harp as soon as they were settled.

Coming home after the wedding, the tower felt completely different. Nothing had changed really. Their books were still there; on the shelves and on the floor as they tried to make room for both their collections. The furniture was all in its intended place. All four walls were intact. Yet…. everything was different now.

This was their home now. Not just his that he was sharing with Tav. It was theirs. Together. And she was his now, completely. Just as he was hers. Gale would never want for anything else in his whole, hopefully long, life now as long as that stayed a constant.

He watched as Tav breezed past him into the bedroom, which was set up very nicely for them. Candles and wine. Flowers on the bed. The window open to let in the night breeze and sea air. Moonlit ocean. A scent he hadn’t realized was real yet brought a flood of nostalgia to him. The perfect newlywed suite. He almost doesn’t want to touch anything.

“Gale, can you do something about this please?”

His attention was brought back into focus from examining the details of the room, onto its prime intended. Gale snickered, despite himself, as he watched Tav struggle to get the pins out of her hair to take her headdress off. The veil itself wasn’t too elaborate, but the pins….his cousins must have had a field day with all of them.

“Come here. Let me help you.”

He led his wife over to the bed, and realized he would never grow tired of that phrase. His wife. His wife. Gale sat her down and then took a seat next to her as he worked to get the pins out. He may not have the dexterity to pick locks, but his fingers were nimble enough for this. Each pin that comes free lets loose a new curl. A new ringlet to tumble down and rest at her shoulder. By the time Gale had gotten all of them free the candles were noticeably shorter, and his desire for her burning just as hot as the flames.

His fingers tucked under her chin and gently pulled her towards him for a soft kiss. Gale realized that he hadn’t kissed her in hours with all the excitement. Able to count on his hands the number of times he had kissed her that day. A terrible mistake. One he wouldn’t make again.

They kiss slowly and gently for a while. Neither in any rush it seemed. Exploring this kiss like it’s their first. When they eventually pulled away, Gale rested his head against hers. Foreheads touching. Breathing in the same air. The same essence. He tilted his head down to kiss her again and was caught by surprise when Tav suddenly yawned. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!”

Gale pulled back just as her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Embarrassed, clearly. Mortified honestly. He didn’t want to laugh, but she was just so adorable. He only did it once. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not you. It’s not! It’s just….been a really long day. Getting ready. Meeting everyone. And I barely got any sleep last night I was so nervous. I’m sorry….”

Gale reached out and took her hand in his to stop her from babbling. It was odd. Gale couldn’t imagine a world where Tav, their leader, their defender, Hero of Baldur’s Gate and vanquisher of the Elder Brain, could be nervous. Yet here she was. It was almost a comfort to know that they were both a little lost in this. Nervous, cautious, and he hoped still a little excited. At least he was.

“It’s really alright Tav. You don’t have to apologize.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. A cool brush of metal & precious gemstones against them from the wedding ring on her finger. Handcrafted. Understated yet beautiful, just like Tav. The Dekarios Clan signet on either side of the stone. He’d spent the better part of a day working with the jeweler to make sure everything was just right. All worth it to finally see his ring on her hand. “We have the rest of our lives together. One night won’t make much more of a difference.”

Tav’s eyes cast down. Clearly disappointed in herself and about to protest something like ‘but it’s our wedding night’, but Gale cut her off at the pass. “This night is already perfect, because I have you. Come on. Let’s get to bed.”

“We’re already in bed.” Tav quipped, and Gale scoffed out a chuckle at his clever bride.

Rising, they undress in silence. Gale helps Tav out of her dress. The thin, wafty material falling away from her body instantly once its few buttons & ties were undone. Gale’s outfit was significantly more complicated. Snaps, ties, latches, lapels. When he put his wedding garment on this morning, he hadn’t realized how intricate it was. Although, he may have been distracted thinking about the wedding and the woman who was moments from being his wife.

Gale watched as she helped him out of his robes. Eyes focusing on her task but drifting up to him every now & then before they fall back down. He hoped she saw the adoration in his eyes when she looked up. The desire he had for her. The love.

He caught one hand in his and turned it up to kiss the inner side of her palm and wrist. Exhilarated at the sound of a soft gasp from Tav. He wanted her, desperately. But, she was right. It had been a very long day. Gale never thought there would be a time he would be too tired to make love to her, but it seemed a day full of his family, friends, wine, and just general revelry was enough to get him close.

Naked now, with nothing but the moonlight and sea air between them, Gale pulled Tav into his arms and kissed her. Another slow, soft, passionate kiss. One where Gale poured all of his heart into it in hopes that it would reach her own. Judging by the way she kissed him back and her soft little moans, he succeeded.

They pulled apart, and Gale walked them back to the bed. Tucking them in under the covers. Wrapping his arms around Tav in a way they had well practiced by now, but still felt entirely new. Tav was nearly asleep by the time her head hit the pillow. Softly snoring in even breaths against him while Gale stayed awake a little longer to watch her. Smiling to himself as it finally sunk in now. This was his life. This was going to be his life now. Not just for tonight, or the first thousand nights, but every night for the rest of his nights moving forward.

A year ago, he used to hate going to sleep. Afraid that when he closed his eyes that that would be the last. Now his life was filled with firsts.

Gale couldn’t wait to see what firsts the future held, with his wife. His wife. His wife. Gods, he would never get tired of saving that.

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hellenhighwater · 2 years

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your house is so beautiful! if I ever buy a house I'm going to try to find one like yours, remodeling accepted. I love the way you've designed it and made it your own space <3

Honestly one of my favorite things about my house is that it's a little bit shit. Not terribly. Just a bit.

There's a finite limit to how much money I will ever get out of this house. It's not really an "investment" property. I mean, if and when I do sell it I'll probably come out money ahead, but it's an old house on a tiny city lot; property values are not going to change enough that I can retire off what I'll someday sell this house for. So that means that I don't have to be too precious with it; I can DIY things and paint it silly colors and put holes in the walls to put up hammock anchors and it's fine that I do that. It wasn't pristine when I got it and it certainly won't be pristine when I leave it, and I think that's delightful.

I do own this house, but it's got its own history--I tend to think of myself more as its current custodian than anything else, so when it comes to more permanent renovations I do try to stick to things that will be approachable for whoever keeps this house after me--neutral-ish colors for flooring and so on. That being said, paint and furniture choices go pretty far.

Thank you!

#i also get EVERYTHING secondhand or thrifted #me and my shoestring budget are weaving a cloak of dreams babey #hellen highwaters house of horrors

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anderstrevelyan · 17 days

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wip wednesday

I haven't done one of these in a minute because I've been focusing on polishing and reworking rather than drafting new words (hopefully by next week I'll have some!), but you know what, let's do one anyway!

Here's the opening of my as-yet-untitled multichapter project, aka my early days of durgetash project (set about a year after they first meet):

*Valas is the son of Gorion's Ward rather than a strictly canon Dark Urge: mentioning to avoid confusion since it's relevant here!

It’s dusk when they first discuss it, a desire so deep Valas has never said it aloud. Were anyone to look up at the quiet manor on a corner in Bloomridge, perhaps on their way home from selling trinkets in the Wide, or while they wander to a tavern bleeding laughter and light onto the street, they’d see them there, the pair of them. A half-drow dressed in deepest black and a human with gold on each finger, the plates laid before them picked clean, the wineglasses in their hands stained with two layers of red, lounging at either end of the settee long past when one of them should have risen to draw the curtains shut. He should do it now, Valas thinks as he turns his glass, watching the candlelight refract. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t, just as he doesn’t know how they arrived at the subject, his confessing the name of the person he most longs to kill.

He lets his voice trail off, and swallows against the dry in his throat. Tries to find his footing. He’s not one for quick words, the thoughtless flow that pours from so many like blood—he often prefers to listen. For a heartbeat, for an opportunity, for the guiding voice of his god. And Enver Gortash doesn’t seem one for silence. Not like this, chin in his hand, long gaps between the sound of his own voice—not unless he’s waiting, too, searching for a flaw. Perhaps he understands this weakness for what it is. Skie. Skie Silvershield. Skie Silvershield the second—not the same young woman said to have died at the hands of the Bhaalspawn who sired him, but Valas yearns for her blood all the same, Torlin’s daughter named for the ancestor plucked too soon. Sometimes, in Valas’s worst moments, his mind whispers that it would be right. To prove himself better than the one who raised him before he found his true Father’s embrace, who always claimed he hadn’t been the one to kill his Skie. That it would be good, further insult and honour to the man once Chosen by his god—Torlin proved unworthy the moment Valas set in motion his death, but he was a Bhaalist all the same, and there’s nothing more Bhaalist than the slaughter of one’s kin. But it’s weakness, coveting one death over all others, no matter how he twists his thoughts. He’s seen such a thing in his acolytes’ eyes, when they come to him soft and raw, his Father’s voice in their heads a mewling thing—they don’t understand, in the throes of those first few tastes of blood, what their work really means. They dwell in emotion, in grudges, in hate, longing to kill an old rival, a scorned lover, someone who did them wrong. The faith shows them: there’s no value in the personal, in passion, if it’s not needed to reach the right holy end. It’s weakness, then, too, how much he’s come to enjoy this new ally’s company. Valas turns his gaze to the window, to the motion on the street below—feet catching on cobble, glances cast over shoulders, plumes of breath climbing in the cool evening air—just as Gortash looks away, too. He must be admiring the curves of his own furniture; the works of art in their golden frames, some so new they sit still propped against the wall; the piles of papers and gadgets, their places not yet found, sketches and plans and small, delicate tools. The home he’s building, here in the Lower City’s most fashionable neighbourhood, so different from where he’d laid his head just months before. But when Valas turns back his way, he’s looking out into the dark. Toward the wall, just steps to the north, that separates them from the Upper City. Valas can almost hear him thinking. “There would be a beautiful kind of symmetry to it,” Gortash says finally, and Valas busies himself with a sip of wine. “One Bhaalspawn filled with remorse, peaceful against his nature, and then all these years later another to do it right. It’s not far from our other discussions of late.”

#valas devir #durgetash #enver gortash #the dark urge #skie silvershield ii #bg3 #siege of dragonspear #(not directly but the concept hinges on the ending of it; if anyone's concerned about spoilers for that bg expansion in 2024!)#my writing #wip wednesday

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labuenosairesfrancaise · 7 months

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Palais Albert Rothschild

Hi guys!!

I'm sharing the Palais Rothchild from Vienna.

House History: The Palais Albert Rothschild was a palatial residence in Vienna, Austria. It was one of five Palais Rothschild in the city that were owned by members of the Rothschild banking family of Austria, a branch of the international Rothschild family. It was located at Heugasse 26, Vienna. Commissioned by Baron Albert von Rothschild, it was designed and built by the French architect Gabriel-Hippolyte Destailleur between 1876 and 1884, and demolished in 1954.

Family History: After the annexation of Austria by Nazi Germany in 1938, the Rothschild family was forced to flee and went into exile in England. Almost immediately, the Nazis turned their attention to the Rothschild art collections, which were the largest and most valuable Jewish-owned art collections in Austria. The treasures of Baron Louis von Rothschild, composed of paintings, statues, furniture, books, armour and coins, were all seized and removed from his house at Theresianumgasse, prior to the Gestapo commandeering the building as its Vienna headquarters. Baron Albert von Rothschild was forced to sign a document giving his consent to the art collection's confiscation, plus the appropriation of all Rothschild assets in Austria by the German government, in exchange for his brother's release from Dachau concentration camp and safe passage for them both out of Austria.

Demolition: In 1954, the palace was torn down. Any items of value that were still left, such as chandeliers, woodwork and fireplaces, were sold off to the Dorotheum auction house at a minimal price, well below their actual value. The stairs and pillars of marble were sold to an Italian; the rest of the stone-work was simply destroyed, and the ornate iron fence and window grillwork were sold for scrap. The richly gilded stucco was ripped down: efforts to reclaim the gold-leaf proved uneconomic.

More info: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palais_Albert_Rothschild

------------------------------------------------------------------------------INTERIORS

You will find several rooms to decorate. The most amazing part of this house is de stairs hall, which turns out pretty well :)

I did finish exteriors, but interiors are for you to decorate on your own taste. I just completed some rooms to give you an idea.

This house fits a 64x64 lot. It has many rooms, a set for private apartments, a gilded ballroom, a service sector and a gree house.

You will need the usual CC I use: all of Felixandre, Tha Jim, SYB, Regal Sims, etc.

Please enjoy, comment if you like it and share pictures with me if you use my creations!

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bearimba · 4 months

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Johto Culture/Worldbuilding Headcanons

Since the New Bark Town kids are out of the way, I figured I'd do some basic worldbuilding stuff before we start covering more characters. There's more I'll cover later on, but to start off with, let's go over the general culture of Johto!

As a whole, the people of Johto lean towards more "traditional" values such as putting family first, a sense of obligation towards their communities (national pride/patriotism is very strong in older populations), an emphasis on respect towards elders, etc.

That being said, Johtonians are also very private---typically, what happens behind closed doors stays behind there for better or for worse. That doesn't mean people aren't extremely nosy, just that they wouldn't actively disrupt the public peace with their gossip.

Joint families are the most common form of family unit, though nuclear families have become more prevalent in cities such as Goldenrod due to limited living space. Houses tend to consist of one main living space (usually living room/kitchen/dining room combined) with bedrooms and bathrooms accessed through either a side hallway or a second floor. Sometimes (usually in downtown areas), a family business may be on the first floor while living/private spaces will be located on the second floor.

Similarly to Sinnoh, Johto's history is considered very important and conservation efforts are taken very seriously across the region. However, those efforts are mostly aimed towards preserving current knowledge instead of actively discovering the past, meaning there is still information that gets forgotten and lost to time.

Due to this (and also partially because of the burning of Brass Tower), Ho-Oh receives much more reverence than Lugia. Before, they were considered the twin guardians of the region and protected the balance between people and pokemon, but now, Ho-Oh has been deified while Lugia is sidelined and nearly forgotten.

Johtonians have a very distinct accent, mostly since they're a bit more secluded compared to other regions. Goldenrod and Saffron City have a stronger mix of Johtonian and Kantonian accents mostly due to tourists and commuting workers on the Magnet Train.

Johto exports a large amount of artisanal and handmade goods, especially woodcrafts such as cabinets or other large furniture (it's much more heavily wooded compared to other regions), but the region also has a very successful maritime industry that could almost rival Hoenn's.

Johtonians receive their ID card on their 13th birthday. At that point, they may opt in to take the gym challenge. If they do, they will receive a trainer card that contains information pertinent to the gym challenge on the back, which is then updated with every gym the trainer beats. They will keep the same ID their entire life regardless of whether they complete the challenge.

On a similar note, the age of majority is 20, which is a bit older than most other regions (Sinnoh/Kanto are 18, Hoenn is 17, etc etc.)

Children typically get their first pokemon (also referred to as their starter pokemon) at a very early age. This is to help teach them responsibility and respect for pokemon, and it provides them protection when they're unsupervised.

Public schooling is free up to 13 years age, at which point they can choose to pay to go to a private school, take a break to go on a pokémon journey and take on the gym challenge, or quit altogether.

Far more often than not, children will take about a year to go on their journey and then go back to school. Upon their return, they generally have the option to skip certain classes (both the ones they missed and future classes) if they're able to put together a decent report detailing their experiences and what they learned on their journey.

Nontraditional scenarios include students returning from their journey earlier or later than a year, students going on their journey and not returning to school, or going on their journey/dropping out of school at older than 13 years (there is technically no upper age limit at which the gym challenge can be started).

Crime rates are pretty low (especially major crimes such as assault, burglary, kidnapping etc.), which is part of the reason why children are allowed to roam the region unsupervised. This is mostly due to heavy restrictions on which/how many pokemon are legal to own, with and without certain permits. Additionally, the maximum number of occupied pokeballs a person is allowed to carry at once is six, although the average person will own at most three pokemon. Such laws are common in other regions, but Johto is more strict about their regulations.

Additionally, since taking care of children is often a community undertaking ("it takes a village to raise a child"), many adults will keep a close eye on nearby kids and keep them out of trouble regardless of whether they're related.

Since traveling trainers can’t hold down a steady job, a common way to earn money is just to pop into local businesses and ask if they need help. It’s not guaranteed to work, but most businesses will either find something small for them to do or recommend a different business to ask.

Pokemon centers will often allow trainers to sleep overnight in the lobby, though it's frowned upon to stick around for more than a day or two---camping outside or getting a room at an inn is better for longer stays.

Also, because pokemon centers are so widespread and well-recognized, they're often used as a meeting spot for social gatherings (though again, loitering inside isn't welcome. it's like meeting up with friends in a hospital lobby). As a result, many businesses---mainly third spaces such as restaurants and recreational spots---will compete to establish themselves as close to pokemon centers as they can.

Live performance tends to be the most popular form of entertainment across the region, including traditional/ceremonial productions, theater, and music. Historical enactments are also very popular during festivals. This is in part because oral storytelling used to be the region's main form of chronicling its history. (There are a few exceptions, such as the Dragon's Den containing extensive records of the Dragon Tamers and the local area, but unfortunately, access to those records is generally very limited.)

Slowpoke tails are somewhat of a local delicacy, but because Slowpoke farms are few and far between (there's strict laws on humane treatment such as how many Slowpoke can be kept on one farm, the space and amenities required to keep them, harvesting methods, etc.), they tend to be quite expensive and typically have to be sourced from the farms themselves. Trying to export them in large enough quantities is even more expensive, especially before the shipping methods are modernized, so for a long time the tails remain purely a Johtonian cuisine.

#pokemon #pokemon hgss #pkmn hgss #hgss #headcanon #pokemon headcanons #johto #worldbuilding #← technically??#oh my god this has been such a long time coming #tbh i probably could've posted this a while ago but i really wanted it to have a substantial amount of info right off the bat #rn though i just want to free it from the depths of my drafts #and as always i'll add to this as I come up with new ideas #there's also a lot of stuff i thought of while brainstorming that didn't really apply to this post #like some infrastructure things that might fit better in the town-centric post #some of this stuff applies to other regions as well/the pokemon world as a whole but that's too wide of a scope for what i want to cover rn #anyways #now that this is out #and ofc i'll be keeping an eye on my inbox for doodle requests ;)

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dk-thrive · 2 months

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Things vibrate into each other

In The Poetics of Space, Gaston Bachelard thinks a lot about Rilke, quoting from his poetry and prose. He notes Rilke’s obsession with furniture and things—so often, but not always, Things—the significance of insignificant objects. “For the sake of a single poem,” Malte writes, “you must see many cities, many people and Things.” “Familiar, intimate Things.” “Things vibrate into one another … Every flower is everywhere.” These life objects, the objects of our lives, have mythical, mystical significance. They contain life. They are “filled with significance, through and through.”

...Rilke wondered if his was the last generation to truly appreciate things, things which were once more transient, more irreplaceable, and therefore more precious than we can grasp. (The older I get, the more interest I have in old knickknacks, no matter how randomly acquired, the bric-a-brac from dead people’s shelves. These Things are technically worthless, but they do have history, a glow of life—a precarious worthlessness that gives them value.)

— Elisa Gabbert, Any Person is the Only Self: Essays (FSG Originals, June 11, 2024)

#gaston bachelard #poetry #things #rainer maria rilke #The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge #the poetics of space #any person is the only self

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 10 months

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Today I had to do a lot of looking back through my worldbuilding master document, which is all of my answers to a brilliant online questionnaire that I will post the link to if anyone wants it. So now you get some of the best quotes I found that I wrote months and months ago and had completely forgotten about until going through this questionnaire:

“There are laws against that but they're easy to find loopholes in (sorta loosey goosey)”

“Does the culture value strength or compassion more highly? - excellent question, don’t know”

“Oh but not if you say you like fish, then it’ll get controversial super quickly, Etelljin people are WEIRD about fish”

“Picture a human English city, then replace the Chinese restaurants with Fae restaurants and then replace the Indian restaurants with Elven restaurants and then continue in that fashion with all the restaurants”

“What do people drink? - whatever they want? But you DO NOT want to make Etelljins drink from the water in their capital city, they’d riot. That’s where the fish live”

“Are some foods poisonous to certain people? - yeah, I’d say so”

“They probably have a magic version of Ikea somewhere (maybe the furniture builds itself to reduce stress and improve the mental health of the buyers)”

“Do people mostly eat meat, fish, or vegetables? - NO FISH”

“Do people make sacrifices to gods? - sacrifice isn’t a big thing because of the aforementioned fear of death that shaped their entire society, but […]”

“Imagine houses but magic-er”

“Are there professional guilds/institutes/etc? - If I may answer your question with a question, what the hell does that mean? Because I googled it and it did not help”

“What constitutes a social faux pas? - ok erm… saying you like to eat fish. That would be a big one. They have a real thing about fish”

(By the way, these are all from just a few questions and I do have plenty of real answers alongside them, but if y'all find this funny I have a lot more content to draw from to keep sharing them with you lol)

#writing fantasy #writing a book #national novel writing month #nanowrimo 2023 #nanowrimo #fantasy writer #writer problems #female writers #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writer #writers #writing #book #books #worldbuilding #fantasy world #ya fantasy #fantasy books

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 1 year

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Crossing A Line

Clan of Three: One-Shot

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers and a heavy role to bear. High stakes can be the reason the innocence begins to crack.

Word Count: 4.8K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: fighting/violence, injuries, heavy angst, heavy details of gore and murder (including children) slight ptsd, sad-but-sweet father-daughter moments

A/N: This takes place between the end of Season 2 and before the Book of Boba Fett- CONTAINS CLAN OF THREE SPOILERS. Read all of the Clan of Three Series here

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"Me and the devil walkin' side by side"

The chill of the planet's atmosphere despite how close you were to the center of the galaxy. You’ve never been so close to the Core your entire life was the Outer Rim that was all you ever knew. Scars are still fresh and healing haunted memories branded onto your skin forever with you unable to escape them or have them escape you. Your eyes were glued onto the flowy cape that trailed off the bounty hunter, your protector, your savior. Things were tense given how much has occurred in little over a year. The empire, your adventures, you and the kid, Gi-

But the kid was safe. Grogu was with the Jedi getting the proper training but you didn’t though. It wasn’t safe, you needed to be with Din you couldn’t abandon him. Your gaze flickers to the new weapon resting on his hip that he’s used a bit on some quarries. It was yours by right. You fought and won it, the blood and sins of that weapon were passed onto you.

You would never touch that thing if it killed you.

The streets crawl with rodents and the pure scum of life. You thought being towards the Core on Corellia that it would be the height of luxury. How wrong you were, crime and death still clung to every planet no matter how much that planet lies claiming it’s peaceful and innocent. Din stops short in his path you coming to a halt almost running into him.

“We’ll rest for the night and continue at dawn,” His modulated voice speaks looking at the quickly setting daylight and you nod silently. You weren’t tired at all and if you weren’t in the picture he probably would have continued, but he didn’t want a young girl walking through this place so late into the night. It was an abandoned building Din had to help you crawl through an open window to move the barricaded items before the door. You wondered what the history of the building was with broken light fixtures, broken windows, destroyed furniture and anything of value already ransacked. Following up the long flights of stairs since the turbolift was out of commission reaching a floor that Din decided was adequate entered a room at the end of the hall. The room was barren with the windows cracked but luckily not broken a small balcony that showed an overview of the crime-ridden part of the capital, Coronet City.

“Get away from the window.” Din calls out and you sigh parting your gaze from the view and seeing him sprinkling broken glass on the floor in front of the door leading towards the main area then he passes you doing the same by the balcony. Taking in the inventory of the room finding some destroyed cushions taking them a beginning to dust them off before making makeshift beds on the ground. “Kid,” Din gets your attention before tossing a small ration in your direction which you catch.

“Thanks.” You respond quietly and you can sense his slight disappointment from the lack of conversation between you two since everything. It had only been a few months since…all that. While it was your choice to stay with the Mandalorian it had been a lot, wounds still fresh and time was slowly but barely healing. Without the Crest it was hard for Din to collect bounties to support the two of you if that meant rations or stolen food or sleeping in abandoned places instead of inns then so be it.

The stars and planets of faraway systems and galaxies look down being your source of light as you finish your meal and you hadn’t realize how tired you were until you were resting. Your back rested against the wall your head dipping every so often before you jerked awake. Din having situated his sleeping arrangement with a good view of both entry points notices you nodding off, “Get some rest,” He speaks and you nod sluggishly fixing yourself to be laying your bag resting beside your head your saber right beside it within your reach.

“You better wake me up to take the next shift.” You murmur and you see him nod slightly. You had a feeling he wasn’t going to, no matter how many times you assured him you could take the first watch or to wake you but then it would be morning and he would tell you it was alright. You needed the rest more than him, ‘You’re a growing kid,’ He would say, and he could still function even on a few hours of sleep or even none. Your lashes felt heavier and grew more in weight before darkness consumed you and you were quickly dragged under the peace of slumber.

The small moment of peace that were far between was interrupted by a frantic shaking jolting you awake. Your hand reaches for your weapon but you stop when you see Din hovering above you. You got to speak when he covers your mouth and you look at him with wide eyes. The sound of crushed glass alerts you and the multiple sounds of voices, “They’re on this floor check every room.” A voice comes through the walls and Din pulls you up to your feet throwing your bag over your shoulder and your saber is placed into your hands.

“What are you doing?” You whisper as he pushes you towards the balcony, “I’ll hold them off.” He responds and you shake your head, “No we do this together.” You say and you don’t get another word in as the footsteps grow closer and you’re outside. The windows don’t fully show the balcony as your back presses against the wall right beside the window listening in. It’s silent before you hear the entrance door enters and the slow crunch of glass, you hold your breath when the sudden blaster fire makes you jump and the sound of struggle grunts and groans before you hear a loud noise followed by Din making a sound of pain. Your hands shake clenching your saber wishing you could be there helping him.

Din struggles in the grasp of the bounty hunters and there was a multitude, he was able to take out a few before he was overwhelmed and forced to his knees restrained. Who he assumes was the leader steps forward a buffy man with scars visible on his body that wasn’t covered by his clothes or tattoos. “This was the Mandalorian we were supposed to be worried about?” He smirks and Din felt his blood boil but he needed to remain calm a single wall separating them from finding you.

“The Empire’s got a high bounty on your head but I’m more interested in a higher one,” He says looking over the beskar-covered man, “Where’s the girl?” Din didn’t even budge if looks could kill no one in this room would be standing right now. A sharp hit to him makes him groan though he stifles it.

“Just tell us where the girl is and we’ll let you go.” The man says leaning forward trying to offer up a deal Din slams forward the beskar cracking the bone of his nose and the leader pulls back clutching his bleeding nose as Din is taken down fully to the ground. The leader growls blood pours down his chin his teeth staining red, “Search the room, you find her…kill her.” Din’s heart lurches as he’s restrained as the others tear apart the room making sure no corner is left unchecked until all is left is the balcony. The man gives a sly bloody grin at the Mandalorian at the only hiding spot left before instructing a Rodian to check. Equipped with their weapon they head towards the balcony the crunch of glass under their boots as they open the door ready to deliver the killing blow to the young jedi. Din holds his breath waiting for the inevitable gunfire and the cry you would produce, you were going to die because of him, your blood would be on his hands. Why didn’t you go with the jedi you would be safe-

“She’s not here sir.” The Rodian announces the news and Din almost sags in relief while the leader curses, “She couldn’t have gone far, Hit the streets and start looking.” Most leave respecting their orders as the two restrainings Din bring up the Mandalorian.

“What do we do with him?” One of them asks and the leader sneers at Din, “Take him back to base…she’ll come after him.” Before Din could get any word in a needle injects through the fabric of his flightsuit and darkness quickly takes over.

The sound of the door slamming shut behind you as you release the air you were holding in. Hanging off the side of a balcony so high up in the air that the people on the streets looked like little bugs. Pulling yourself up and getting on solid ground you peek inside finding the room empty beside the dead bounty hunters that were after you. A tightness filled your chest Din was gone, you were on your own….they took him. They hurt him….they were going to kill him-you weren’t going to let them. You would make them feel the same pain if they laid another finger on him.

The streets were dark a storm brewing settling over the planet reflecting your emotions, you didn’t even know where to start who, or what you were looking for. You had some voices but that gave you nothing. Neon signs light your way through the rainy streets and alleys, despite how late into the night it was probably early morning the nightlife was active whether it would be to enjoy a night out or for more nefarious acts held so late. Gliding through busy streets crowds none paying attention to a young girl or empty alleys where creatures scamper to find their meal in the trash. It felt like hours trying to find where to even look for, who to go after, who could they even be on this planet. You weren’t a bounty hunter, you didn’t even know the first step in finding someone. It was sudden hands that wrapped around your waist the other covering your mouth muffling your screams as you’re dragged into an alley. Kicking your feet out your teeth dug into the flesh until metallic blood filled your mouth producing a cry from your assailant as another appears revealing a crude rusty blade. He looked around your age you could see the slight tremor in his grasp of the weapon.

“Just kill her already!” The man behind you yells as the other flinches before stalking closer. Kicking your leg out the blade flies into the air as your momentum slams the two of you back into a wall. The arms loosen around you and you slam his head into the wall he quickly knocks him unconscious the other scrambles to grab their blaster when they're flung into the wall opposite pinned there. The young boy quivers from his restrained position as the streetlights illuminate the young girl her hand held out. This was the power they had to be worried about, the reason a bounty was on her head. To bring the Jedi in alive or dead. Thrusting your hand forward and he too is shrouded in darkness.

When Din regained consciousness he was revealed to still have his armor on, despite his creed already broken he didn’t wish to break it twice. He was stripped of his weapons and his vambraces, leaving just the beskar armor to be his protection. Tugging at his restraints the heavy chain shakes around his wrists behind his back and from their place in the solid floor. The darkness that fills the room beside the dingy light above him allows him to see the true emptiness of the room. He curses lightly leaning his hand back against the wall, he wasn’t nervous for himself he could handle whatever torture or attempts at harm towards him. It was you he was fearful for, there was never a time where you needed to be looking for him. He felt foolish not at least preparing you for the event if the two of you were separated or if he was trouble. If the Crest still existed he would have least known you were safe but you were out on this planet alone trying to find him.

The door slides open revealing the scarred man as he stalks into the room the confidence that radiates off him. Like the deadly bounty hunter chained before him is something he shouldn’t be worried about. If he could wrap these chains around his throat and listen to the crack of his bones Din would be delighted.

“They are going to find her,” He speaks to Din as he remains silent his emotions masked by the beskar helmet, “You could have made it easy, she could have remained alive. But when my men find her they are going to rip her apart.” His grin was full of joy and malice trying to get on the bounty hunter’s nerves, “Maybe they have their way with her first? See how loud she screams before they slit her throat.” The chains were the only thing holding him back from throttling him. On his feet, his arms pulled behind him creating a strain, a growl ripped from his throat.

“You touch a single hair on her-” Din threatens just itching to tear him apart, “You’ll what kill me?” The scarred man laughs his head leaning back, “I’ll be sure you’ll get to see her corpse before we kill you too.” He pulls as curses in Basic and Mando’a are thrown at him before the door closes locking him in there. He couldn’t even feel like he was breathing, oh maker he felt sick he fell back to his knees. You were going to be okay, he would get out of here and kill anyone that dare to even look at you.

The sound of groans and fist meeting skin draws the young boy awake his vision adjusting he tries to move but he’s restrained his arms tied behind his back attached to some piping on the floor. No matter how hard he tugged and the pain in his wrist flared he couldn’t break free. Drawing his attention away from his restraint he focuses in on his superior restrained but in a chair, a wave of nauseous fills him at the amount of blood that was around the chair some speckled on the floor or in large puddles. A feminine grunt as he watches her fist make contact with his superior’s face the crack of bone and the sound of anguish emitting from who he thought was a hardened criminal.

The red liquid drips from your knuckles but it wasn’t yours as you swing your fist against another sharp cry admitting from the man and you pull back. The mess of the man the injuries all over him as he starts to slump over when you fist his hand yanking his head to look at you. “Where is the Mandalorian.” You hiss as blood dribbles from his face coughing globs his body quakes in pain.

He spits harshly it landing on your face with flecks of blood and you step back wiping it off your face and staring back at the heavy glare directed towards you. The echo of the blaster bolt and his scream fill the empty building and you see the boy behind jolt from the loud noise. Smoke emits from the man’s kneecap as he hunches over trying to calm himself from the immense pain he’s experiencing, “Where’s the Mandalorian!” You shout and he flinches shaking his head before he gasps for air. You can feel the young boy watching in horror as the man begins thrashing in his seat trying to breathe but no air entering his body. Anger and hatred fuel you as your hand clenches more into a fist watching him turn blue from lack of air.

“Stop! I know where he is!” The young boy proclaims and you drop your hand as the older man sucks in the air he was praying for loud coughs rack through his body. “F-foolish…boy…shut..up.” The man croaks his voice strained as you pull away approaching the young man. He couldn’t have been old maybe fifteen or sixteen. Crouching down and he leans back to keep a distance as he feels your gaze take him in.

“It’s at the junkyard where they are disassembling imperial cruisers,” He says as the other man curses at him, “You’ll find him there, Rel he’s covered in scars he’ll have him.” You look over him and despite the clear fear you didn’t sense any distrust.

The older man thrashes in his seat curses hurled, “You traitorous bastard. They will skin you when they find out you ratte-” It was a blur one second you were in front of him and suddenly the howl of a saber as he’s cut apart his torso hits the ground blood pooling around the body. Terror in the boy's eyes as he looks at the orange saber and he can see in the lighting the person now over the destroyed body, smeared blood from the profile of her face, the hands coated in red as she now stands over him.

“Wait please, my family is there under their protection, just let me warn them so they won’t be in harm's way.” He pleads, darkness shields your eyes, and he can’t see what you’re thinking, “Would you tell the empire about where I am?” Your voice is cold and heaviness to it as he frantically shakes his head.

“I swear on the Maker, I won’t tell a soul.” Liar. Your hand tightens on the weapon and you turn from the dead criminal slowly prowling towards him and he shakes in his restraints tears in his eyes as pleads fall from his lips.

“We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn’t know. I’m Jash. What’s your name?” He’s frantic pleading for mercy as the view light sources crack the fuse blowing out as darkness grows closer but also the orange saber. Your hands tighten on the weapon. You were doing this for Din, to keep the both of you safe, leave no loose ends. The heat of the blade is so close as you raise the weapon, “No, no, no, no! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! You don’t have to! Please! No, no, no! We can just talk! Mom! Mom! Mom!”

It’s quick and painless. Silence fills the room beside the crackle of the orange plasma. You turn from the massacre heading back into the night the blade returning to the hilt the growing storm cleaning the blood of you and cleansing your sins. No one would hurt him. You wouldn’t allow it.

Din wallows in the darkness before the sound of footsteps returns and the door opens revealing the leader followed by another man a staff in hand. Neither of them speak until the man gestures to his subordinate and the staff crackles with electricity and it’s jammed between the plates of his armor. Din seizes groaning out in pain as it rushes through his body thousands of knives embed into his skin while also being on fire. The staff is pulled away and Din slumps over slightly trying to catch his breath, “You’re making this harder Mando. Just tell us where she is.” He says leaning against the doorframe and looking down at the bounty hunter. Silence fills the room and the leader nods once more and the staff returns to Din’s body. A harsher groan of pain is the intensity and duration that increases his limbs locking up but also twitching from the pain. A rapid stream of knocks at the door pauses the ministrations of torture.

“What?!” The man yells while gesturing to stop and Din wheezes trying to calm his rapid heart. The door opens revealing the same Rodian from earlier a frightened expression on his face twists his hands together, “What is it?!” He demands and the Rodian flinches.

“One of the groups hadn’t returned from their findings so we sent out a group to find them,” He reveals but there seems to be more, “They were massacred…” A tense chill fills the room with this news. A faint rumble that could be mistaken for their fidgeting until it returns a deeper one that shakes the walls, the lights flickering, one that felt in their bones.

“si-s-sir!” A bad connection through the comms as the leader raises his commlink attached to his wrist a hologram projector appears, the signal is bad breaking in and out and what looks like a battle occurring, “The mai-ain gates have been breached-ched! We-we’re taking h-heavy los-sses! We nee- concentrated for-” A loud crack fills the air as the hologram shows their neck contorting in an unnatural angle before the line goes dead. The sound of battle was far away from them but still they could hear it, whatever was going on was big. Another call comes in though it only lasts a few moments.

“It’s h-her! We can’t sto-” A bloodcurdling scream as it ends and the three enemies of the Mandalorian felt a moment of fear, that feeling you get knowing you were close to death. Even Din knew whatever you were doing was enough to strike fear in all of them. “Get every blaster, knife, and weapon out there now!” He yells and the Rodian scampers out as the man with the staff stays beside him, “What do we do with him?” He questions and Din glares at the two if looks could kill they would ash.

“Kill him.”

The metallic smell of blood and blaster fire residue fills the air, and a sheen of sweat, and different species’ ichor taints you for battle. Like a warrior with ceremonial paints, this coated you. A steady patter fills the hall, the drip from either the leaky pipes or gaping wounds as the life slow drains. You understood death, it surrounded you frequently, people you cared for, those you tried to save and failed, even yourself. It hovered over you waiting to take you as its latest target.

Now you were death.

Clean cuts ripped through the men the heat of blaster fire flying past you or blocked reflected. Their weapons were the cause of their demise. No mercy ripping the final breaths from your victims. Making your way through the massacre of corpses the lights flickering as lone criminals try to hold their ground the last thing witness is the plasma blade the color of the sunset. The only time they would get a glimpse of daylight again. Screams of mothers hovering over children with lifeless eyes and cold skin before they too join them. It muffled in your ears a hum and quietness settling over you. Your way of blocking out your trauma is by creating more, the blood wasn’t on your hands if you didn’t acknowledge it. A steady pump of your blood through your body lets you know you were fighting and living. Faint cuts of shrapnel or blast fire that nicked you but were irrelevant.

Huddled in a corner you catch round fearful eyes staring back at you. The fear only seemed to grow when they realized they were spotted, standing mere feet from the littered bodies surrounding them. The orange light highlights the tears welling up as they stare back at death. You gaze back your grip tightening as the young eyes just stare. A standstill waiting to see who would act first. A new presence enters one you were familiar with and unlike death, you spare those young eyes. They watch unmoving as you turn away from them continuing their path the others not spared, your face branded in their mind.

Those young eyes will always remember those cold eyes.

Din pants a wave of nauseous as he almost fails at controlling his stomach. There was so much blood. Turning corners with his blaster in hand with his regained weapons only to find a bloodbath. The lifeless eyes stare at him as he made his way through the halls, the mutilated bodies of men and women…his heart growing cold and fear at the children. He followed the path of destruction if he had been smarter, and gotten out faster, you wouldn’t have done this. When the order had been given to execute him and the scarred man had left he had been quick to defend himself killing his adversary before making his escape. A sharp squeal fills the air as if an animal was put to slaughter. Following the noises the sound of the raging storm outside competes with the one created inside. Roaring pelting rain and the darkness outside make it hard for the Mandalorian to see but it’s a crack of lightning and the flash of orange draws his attention to you. The blade pulls out from the body of Din’s captor it hit the ground with a horrendous squelch, red quickly mixing with the rain.

Your body jerks whether from the crashing adrenaline or the frigid rain that soaks you, the caked and drying blood growing wet once more. The orange saber should be red from the amount of blood that soaked it. The hilt was slippery from bodily fluids and the lives that were drained. Turning away from the man a flash of lightning paints the sky and you catch the gleam of beskar armor standing in the rain. You couldn’t read his emotions as he moves closer to you until mere feet separate the two of you. He was uncertain what to do with you, comfort you, scold or yell, but he just remained silent.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is raspy and hoarse which shocks you for a moment. You didn’t think you would lose your voice, you don’t even remember screaming—you don’t remember much, just feelings and flashes of moments. He nods stiffly taking in your appearance, you would need new clothes soaked from the rain and… other things. You looked tired a sort of lifelessness in your eyes that could compare to the others inside. He couldn’t help but ignore the twinge of fear he felt, he’s never seen this side of you. Maybe with Gideon but this was brutal this was heartless lacking any form of mercy. It was like someone took over your body and committed these acts.

“Are you…?” He speaks up filling the silence that consists of rain and thunder. He truly needed to know if you were going to be. It all seemed too soon with Gideon and losing Grogu and going through everything you went through. He didn’t want to blame you.

“I thought I lost you…” Your voice cracks and the rain conceals the tears that pour down your face but he could tell, “We were supposed to be in this together and then you were gone. I didn’t know where to look or what to do.” His heart aches to hear what you felt during their time apart. He knew your connection was strong and the idea of losing another person close to you would destroy you and time you over the edge.

“Then I felt it…they were going to kill you if I didn’t find you. I couldn’t let them,” You shake your head and he can see the tremor in your hands. Flashes of what you did, the man and the boy in the warehouse, those criminals, but the innocent people, fathers, and mothers with their children. They were under their protection but you didn’t care. They were all guilty.

“I killed them.” A coldness covers the two of you with your confession, “I killed them all…they're dead, every single one of them. And not just the men, but the women and the children, too.” There’s a wild look in your eyes as the realization of your actions begins to register. Din grabs you by the arms holding you to his chest as you cry in agony. “They're like animals, and I slaughtered them like animals. I hate them!” You shout into his chest before dissolving in tears and sobs as he consoles you in the rain a tension of comfort and death that lingers in the air.

His arm stays wrapped around you as he leads you away from the massacre that was committed by you. He knew they couldn’t stay here long, who knew what other forces may have been alerted or the empire could be arriving soon for their supposed bounty. Din wasn’t sure where to go next after this but he needed to keep you protected, keep you safe, and you would never go through this again. You would get better at this low point, too much horrors and pain for such a young life. Watching your innocence chip away from those stained with evil, even himself chipping some away by involving you in this type of life. How long could it continue until nothing was left, what would be left of you then?

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