#if alicent minded her own business | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months

Text

I Think He Knows

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend promises to watch over you when you want to get drunk.

Genre: SMUT-ish

Warnings: innocent!reader, intoxication, swearing, grinding on someone's thigh, mentions of sex (no actual sex considering reader is drunk), praise kink

Just as you extend your arm to knock, James slides in front of you and gently holds under your elbow. He's smiling at you fondly as he caresses soothing circles across your skin.

"I want you to know, love, just because we mentioned it doesn't mean you have to, hmm?" he reminds you, his voice low and husky.

You smile and nod your head, letting him wrap an arm around your waist, "I know, Jamie," you reassure him. James looks at you in such a way you know he understands and he settles into your side. He turns around when you knock, his arm still holding you close, and when the door swings open to reveal an already flushed Sirius Black, your boyfriend smirks.

"Prongsie!" Sirius cries happily, pulling James in by his collar and trapping him in a hug. James has released his arm from around you in anticipation of Sirius's gesture and you giggle, walking into the house behind them.

Sirius looks at you next. "Y/n!" he cries, "Your lovely lady looks as lovely as ever, Jamsey," he skips over and takes your hand in his, twirling you around. You can smell the faint cherry vodka on his breath as he holds up your hand and clumsily swipes a thumb along your knuckles. "Still no ring?" Sirius whines with a light-hearted pout.

James pulls you away gently, his cheeks blushed pink. "Alright, enough. Hands off my girl," he reprimands, holding you close as he presses a kiss to your temple. He's holding your hand almost possessively, but you don't mind.

"I keep wondering that myself, Siri," you join in the teasing and send James a smile.

The latter rolls his eyes but smirks as he helps you out of your winter coat. He hangs it up next to his own and then places his hand on your lower back so he can guide you around. It's a common gesture James doesn't even realize he's doing anymore.

Sirius and Remus's house isn't small, but it isn't big either. It's normally sized with dark brick walls and ivy near the upper windows. Inside, the fire is burning and the smell of cookies and wine is in the air.

Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene occupy the couch as they play a game of friendly poker with Frank and Alice. Remus, when he sees you all, stands up from his armchair and smiles widely.

"Y/n/n," he says as if he hasn't seen you in years. Which is a dramatic exaggeration.

Remus pulls you into a warm hug, which means you aren't next to James anymore and he pouts, "Why is everyone suddenly in love with my girlfriend?" he whines.

Remus chuckles and kisses your cheek, "Because she's just so lovely, James," he kisses your cheek again and you giggle. "Plus, you've been hiding her from us for weeks now. I'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."

James shakes his head with a low chuckle, his hand finding yours. "It's not my fault she's been busy."

"You guys do realize I am standing right here, yeah?" you interrupt with a chuckle. Remus looks at you fondly. He nods and then hurries you and James over to the couch where your friends are.

Always the gentleman, James crosses his legs and sits on the floor while you squeeze in between Lily and Marlene, sending them smiles.

A few moments later Sirius emerges with two glasses of white wine. He grins and hands one to James before handing you yours. Instantly, your eyes flicker to James as you take the glass and look at the liquid.

He sends you a reassuring nod. Even in school, you tended to stay away from alcohol because you were scared. Scared of losing control. But, now that you're with James and you feel safe around him. You had brought it up a few days ago: that you wanted to try. James had promised to watch you, to make sure you don't drink too much or do anything stupid.

So, you put the glass to your lips.

Three drinks in and you don't feel drunk.

Rather, you feel completely normal – well almost normal as you seem to have a hard time keeping your eyes away from your boyfriend's hands. You tend to play with the hem of your dress in your lap and you're still sitting in between Lily, and now Sirius as he drunkenly animates his sentences.

James is still sitting on the floor, his arms draped across his knees as he crosses his ankles. From time to time, he'll look up at you and his eyebrows will scrunch as if to ask if you're okay. Your cheeks start to feel hot and you fumble with your hands to press them on your face. You squirm around, feeling pressure in your core as you bite down on your lip.

"Y/n," James's voice is hoarse and you look up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Come here, dove," he whispers.

When you stand, you stumble to James and gasp when he pulls you down onto his lap. You hold onto him, looking into his eyes as his hand finds your thigh just shy from your ass. James frowns as he sees your expression but then his lips curl into a smirk.

Clumsily, he makes a show of standing as you cling onto him. Your friends don't seem preoccupied by you and James as he gently guides you into Remus and Sirius's small bathroom in the hallway. You lean against the sink, looking up at James and mumble, "W-What?"

James's knuckles caress down your cheek as he chuckles. "Hey, are you okay?"

You blink at him, trying to focus on something other than the heat from his strong body against yours. You hum, nodding. James's palm presses against your cheek first and then moves to your forehead. He frowns. "You're warm. 'You sure you're okay?" he asks with concern.

Your breathing becomes harsher as you stare at him. "O-oh- yeah. I'm g-good," you try to sound as normal as you can although his touch ignites a fire inside you.

James's frown deepens, looking you over. When you bite your lip, his eyebrow raises and the corner of his mouth slips upwards. He knows your signs all too well by now.

James slides his knee in between your legs, a soft gasp escaping your lips as your skirt rides up your thighs a little further. The coarse fabric of his jeans hits your cotton panties and your hands grip the sink harder. You look up at him, your eyes lidded. "J-Jamie?"

His hand slides up your cheek, tilting his head as he presses a sloppy kiss behind your ear. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here. I won't allow anything bad to happen to you, my lovely," he lifts his knee slightly and a shiver runs up your arms.

You clutch his shirt, your mind already starting to go fuzzy. You can't tell if you're just drunk or incredibly horny – perhaps you're both? All you know if you want James's touch. You want his lips, his hands, his cock. James's knee rubbing against your pussy interrupts your dirty fantasies as you sigh.

"I'm not gonna do all the work," James mutters and pauses his movements.

"More," You whisper, staring at him needily and James chuckles quietly.

"Shhh, my baby's simply a little too drunk for that," his voice is smooth and stern as he kisses the side of your lips, "I'm not gonna do that, lovie. I'm sorry. But, if you wanna get off on my trousers then who am I to deny you?" he quips with a knowing smile.

As if simply needing his permission, you roll your hips onto him and let out a loud moan. James covers your mouth with his hand, stroking your skin as you buck against him desperately. You're dripping and seeping through your panties to soak his jeans with your juices. You can't stop your soft, drunken, moans as you rub your sensitive clit against him.

"Good girl," James whispers encouragements, occasionally moving his knee to apply more pressure, "My good girl, aren't you? So needy when you're drunk, hmm?" he hums with a smile.

You nod, cheeks burning as your movements become even more desperate. It feels so good. He's making you feel so good and he knows it. James leans in and rests his hand behind your ear as he delicately kisses your head. He can tell you're close and he whispers sweet nothings in your ear as your mind goes fuzzy and your skin prickles with desire.

Your mouth opens only no sound comes out when you rut against him harder. James grins, enjoying having you so completely undone in front of him. You hold onto his sleeve, squeezing your thighs around his and tears of pleasure brim your lashes. James coos, "Aw, don't cry, sweetheart. What's the matter?" he teases and strokes his thumb across your cheek.

"I- I need more," you whimper, trying desperately to reach your high.

"I can't let you have more, lovie," James says quietly. He doesn't want to risk crossing any boundaries when you're drunk.

Still, he grips your hips and rocks them over his thigh, helping you. "Here, just let go for me. It's okay, I'll take care of you later I promise." You whine and lean your head on his chest as your pussy throbs.

You feel light-headed when you finally come, your juices soaking your panties and James's jeans. He kisses your forehead when you look up at him, eyes lidded. "Good girl, you did so good," he whispers, stroking a hand in your hair as you catch your breath.

James lifts you effortlessly onto the sink and you automatically spread your legs. You watch him as he bends over and rolls up some toilet paper in his hand.

He then hands it to you, "Clean yourself up, dove?"

You look at him innocently, silently asking him to be the one to clean you. James hesitates and bites his lip. Quickly, he dips his hand into your panties and collects your cum on the paper. He bunches it up and throws it in the toilet. He rolls up some more and wipes his jeans a little.

Finally, he flushes the evidence and kisses your lips. You squirm a little, uncomfortable from the wetness in your panties. James looks down and smirks.

He starts to slide your panties down your hips and looks at you for consent. You nod, staring at him. You're still in a haze from the liquor but you trust James. He slides your panties into his jeans pocket and smoothes your skirt. He sees your adorable frown, "No one will know, I promise," he assures you.

When you leave the bathroom, the hallway seems darker. James's hand rests on your ass, keeping your skirt down as you focus on not tripping. You don't realize how giddy and stupid you and James looks until you both enter the living room again and your friends turn to stare. Lily, Remus, and Marlene seem to compose themselves as they smirk behind their hands, but Sirius, in his drunken state, seems completely appalled.

"You did not just fuck in my bathroom, Potter!" he exclaimed. Laughs escape the others and you must look completely embarrassed because their smiles widen. James gently and playfully covers your ears as his voice strains to hide his amusement.

"Shut up," he chuckles and then kisses your temple, "we did no such thing, did we, lovie?"

You nod your head. You wonder if your panties are burning a hole in James's trousers just like your bareness is causing a burning in your stomach. James hands moves to your back as he caresses you comfortingly.

"So, why did you come out of the bathroom together?" Marlene interrupts and adds to the teasing, "Don't tell me Y/n needed help peeing?"

James sends her a glare and moves you through the living room and to the door. "It's late, I'm tired," he tries to take the attention off you, "I think it's time for us to drive home."

He drapes your coat over your shoulders and you're grateful he's taking you home. The neediness has been replaced by pure exhaustion and you grip his arm. James puts on his own coat and opens the door. He whispers to you, "Shh, you're safe with me," and kisses you again.

You both say your goodbye's and Sirius calls out one last time, "If I find any evidence you fucked in my bathroom, I'll personally kill you, James Potter," James pauses, knowing he's not finished and smirks when he hears Sirius's last comment.

"Shame on you for roping poor, innocent Y/n into your disgusting activities. And in my bathroom — "

"Sirius," You hear Remus warn, exhausted.

James holds your hand and starts to shut the door behind you,

"Next time, Remus and I will fuck in your bathroom!"

"Sirius!"

1K notes · View notes

johannawesterling · 8 days

Text

The fact that this teams and stan crap is leaking over into real life again, needs to stop. Seriously, it's not a big deal if you want to keep things seperate so you don't wander into a fandom space you don't want to be in, but lashing out at the actors? Inexcusable.

First it was Fabien Frankel's social media comments being filled with hate for Criston Cole and for Fabien himself. Then it was Tom Glynn Carney's. Fabien has had to deactivate his socials several times and TGC's is handled by a manager now.

Then someone literally got in Olivia Cooke's face when she was minding her own business in a bar and called Alicent a "cunt".

Folks bitching at Harry Collet for being Team Black - HUH? Did you expect him to be Team Green? Give me a break.

And now it's racist crap being thrown at Bethany Antonia.

This needs to stop.

It's a fucking show. It's not that deep. It's a show.

Get some mental help if you struggle to seperate the two.

#hotd #team green #team black #house of the dragon #Fabien frankel #Tom Glynn carney #Olivia cooke #Harry collett #Bethany antonia #game of thrones #got #Criston cole #alicent hightower #aegon ii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #Baela targaryen

298 notes · View notes

luneaticlab · 5 months

Text

AMORE (Chapter 1)

Pairing - CEO!Jungkook x Secretary!reader (female)

synopsis- Never in a million years you thought you'd end up with your boss, in bed.

Word count- 1.4k

IMPORTANT NOTE - Hey guys, this my first fic. I promise I'll improve. love and feedback are always welcomed.

•I do not own any of the pictures•

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

----------------------------------------------------------

"come again?"

hesitantly, you repeated the words you said to your bestfriend a few seconds ago "The last time i got laid was 13 months ago..?"

"Girl, are you fucking serious?" Lena, your bestfriend not-so-aggresively threw her hands in the air.

"What's wrong with it? You know i'm not the type to have one night stands and shit" you justified defensively, delicately caressing your 5 month old persian cat, fluff.

"Dude you are in your twenties, you are hot, rich and single, what's wrong with having some fun before you settle down?" all you did was roll your eyes, ready to nag her about hygiene during sex.

"Don't tell me you still have a crush on your jackass boss" alice appeared from your kitchen, a cup of hot choco keeping her hands warm.

you were taken aback, yes, you did have a crush on your not-so-jackass boss, maybe you still do, no one knows, you are too busy with work to think about that. But something about him just makes your thighs clench.

His thick thighs which you would die to sit on, his tiddies who always threaten to come out(thanks to the buttons which do not let them), and his freaking jawline which you want to hold so bad when he kisses you.

Just to be clear the chances of this happening is 0.01% .

He's the typical rich, young, hot bachelor desired by multiple women and owned by none. Somehow you always managed to keep a very professional relationship with him so far. But what's life without some thrill?

"Jeon jeongguk? go ahead , have sex with him then. A rich man is a rich man" Lena suggests as if she's telling you to pick out some roses from the neighbour's garden.

"sure, find me a now job by tomorrow then" Lena chuckles at your reponse.

"Girl, its not that hard, he's a man and he might have needs too, if you really want him on the top then maybe wear some sexy clothes at work, you guys see each other everyday"

"Yeah yeah i'll think about it" you shrugged off the topic, not wanting to discuss it further.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。

"fuck!" You finally found your release , turned the vibrator off, took a shower, slouched on your bed releasing a lazy sigh

Yes ,the vibrator did wonders when you got it for the first time, but you've become too used to it, you knew you needed more and by more you meant jungkook's dic-

you pushed your sinful thoughts out of the way and forced yourself to sleep.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:

next day , 7.39 a.m

You got out of the shower, fresh and clean. Done with the skincare and your usual makeup (nude lips are mandatory!) .you were about to pick your grey sweatshirt, Lena's words resonating in your ears.

Fuck it, it's now or never.

you put the sweatshirt right where it belonged. Took out a white tube top which covered half of your tits, wore a black trouser matching with the blazer of the same colour of the trouser. A black nano belt bag from celine completing your look. Quickly wearing your jimmy choo high heels, you stepped out of your apartment, you felt confident.

You were aware of the stares you were getting at the office, you weren't surprised, not your fault you look good with a minimum effort.

You spot your coworker Diana at the cafeteria, she waves at you , her look telling you that she's got something for you

"Hey y/n, I've completed the list of the guests we are going to invite at the company's gala, Do you mind passing it to Mr.Jeon? I got some last minute work to do." She asked holding your hand

Bingo

"Sure, why not , I was about to give him his espresso anyway." you smile at her politely before taking the file.

Quickly making your way upstairs, you fic your hair before you knock his door.

'"Come in"

"Good morning Mister Jeon, the list for the guests for our company's gala dinner has been finalized." You said as you placed his espresso and the file on his table.

He looked up to see you, "Alright, thank you y/n, I hope you didn't forget we have to go to daegu today."

You caught him stealing a glance at your chest.

"Ofcourse sir" you smiled curtly before leaving his office, swaying your hips on purpose while doing so.

Jeongguk and you had to go to Daegu today for the monthly inspection of the company's factory there.

Being Jeongguk's secretary was undeniably challenging, but the salary was enough motivation to continue doing your job.

・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜

3.39 p.m

"Mister Jeon, we are ready to leave." You said as you peeked out your head from the door into his office.

He nodded while fixing his blue Ralph Lauren coat as he walked past you , you followed him behind, making sure everything is on the right place.

You looked at him from behind, good Lord he was so damn hot then you looked at yourself. You guys would make such a power couple in your opinion.

"Did you have lunch sir?" You asked knowing he might not have eaten given the fact that he absorbs himself too much in his work once he starts.

"I didn't have time to"

"I figured, I ordered chipotle for you, will you be okay with a burrito bowl ?" Jungkook liked having light meals on work days and he gets carsick easily so chipotle was the best option.

"Yes, thank you y/n i appreciate it." He said gratefully, flashing you a small smile which you could write a whole thesis on.

----------------------------------------------------------

You were driving the car and the ride was smooth, you guys talked about work related stuff. Until,

"How have you been lately, y/n?" Jeongguk asked out of nowhere.you glanced at him for a second before replying "I've been good, pretty much the same since 2 years. working on weekdays, staying at home on the weekends. Oh, and I've got a new roommate – a furry one. Adopted a cat a few months back. It's nice having someone waiting for me at home, you know?"

You have no idea why you are giving a detailed explanation instead of the typical 'I'm doing good' but it is what it is.

"Any special someone in the picture?" He asked, a hint of uncertainty laced in his voice.

You glance at him again in surprise before refocusing on the road, this guy is really picking his moments. "No special someone right now sir, how about you?" He started this.

He chuckled a little,"Not at the moment, not into relationships anyway."

well damn, at least it was worth the try.

You catch jungkook looking at you a lot of times during the ride.

"We have reached, sir." You both get out of the car and head towards the factory.

----------------------------------------------------------

7:51 p.m, Daegu.

It was pouring cats and dogs.

"I think we should book a hotel and stay there for the night". Jungkook suggested while looking up. All of the workers were leaving and driving in this crazy rain is dangerous.

"But i don't have any spare clothes."

"Should we buy them on the way?" Jungkook asked finally looking at you.

"I think we should."

----------------------------------------------------------

You guys found the nearest hotel, and went to your respective rooms.Jungkook chose a package of 1 night+ dinner because you guys didn't eat anything after lunch.

"Let us change then meet at the dinner hall yeah?" Jungkook said looking at you, your clothes were a little drenched, the droplets on your half-exposed boobs were visible and he can see your bra underneath the white tube top.

"Sure , sir"

You guys literally shoved your faces in the food because the meal was ten out of ten and ya'll were hungry as hell.

When you entered the elevator, jungkook looked at you for a second before speaking " Good day today"

You smiled at him. Damn that smile, he couldn't control himself , he brought his face closer to yours, literally a gap of 2 centimeters between. "Can I kiss you?" He asked , it came like a whisper.

"Please" You practically whimpered.

Just like that, his lips were on yours.

To be continued

#jungkook bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

566 notes · View notes

two-white-butterflies · 8 days

Text

fresh out the slammer | daemon targaryen

Description: Daemon Targaryen always found himself running to you after his failed marriages.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen/The Hand!Reader

Now pretty baby, I'm running back home to you. Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to.

The Dragon Prince was always an unpredictable figure. He made choices of his own, allowed his hot-blooded anger to rule his decisions instead of his mind. "Lord Otto warned me years ago, he knew that Daemon would try this..." Viserys cursed underneath his breath, it was a mere second ago when Lord Otto Hightower delivered the news about Rhaenyra's excursion with Daemon.

"I know Rhaenyra, she wouldn't do that in her own accord - this is Daemon's doing, my husband." Queen Alicent followed behind him, and you both exchange a look. Viserys takes a deep breath.

Viserys wanted to believe that his daughter was as innocent as Alicent thought but he knew that it wasn't the case. "The same blood flows through their veins, Rhaenyra and Daemon, they are both unpredictable - untamed by tradition. I would approve of this but my brother has a wife, we cannot risk offending House Royce." the King responded, waiting for your reply.

"We must do something about Daemon." Viserys articulated, "I believe that we have exhausted all our efforts into taming your brother, my king. You've already named him as the Commander of the City Watch. If that position has not taught him anything about honor and respect, I-I cannot see a possibility that anything could." you mused, his eyebrows merged into each other.

"We can send him away, force him to return to his lawful wife." Alicent suggested. "- the people at court, they'll talk about Rhaenyra, they'll bring her moralities into question. If she is to be the future Queen, then shouldn't the court respect her?" Alicent added, hoping to sway her husband into making the decision.

"It is already an endless cycle, my queen. Prince Daemon is forced into exile, he returns a few years and he does something that forces him to exile once more." you argued, on top of that, the prince was an asset to the crown - a warrior if not anything lesser.

"- to catch him would be to catch the wind." you ended and a sigh escapes the King's mouth. "- and we are still unsure if Prince Daemon was with Princess Rhaenyra. Mayhaps, it was just a whore from Lyss who bore resemblance to our princess." you defended, mentally reminding yourself to confront him after this conversation.

Viserys was silent for a second.

He takes a deep breath.

"I shall speak to my brother, confirm or derail the allegations. Then I shall call the small council and make a decision there." he concluded.

Daemon clenched his jaw, seeing you walk towards him in his periphery. A child in his eyes - decades lesser than his age, and yet his brother found you more fitting to be the Hand.

What did you have, that he did not?

"Lord Otto reports seeing you with Princess Rhaenyra late at night in Fleabottom." you opened the conversation and he did his best not to show any facial expressions. "What do you want?" his eyes narrowed.

"It was her then? I'll have you know that your brother plans to wring your head because of that." you chuckled, amused by his childish antics. Was it his first time in court? "If it is her, if it is not her, it is none of your business, hand." he grits his teeth.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"Your brother will send you back to your wife. He will not grant you disbarment, nor will he grant you marriage with your niece. You are caught in a limbo, my prince." you explained his situation.

He could give lesser of a fuck.

"- but I can offer you a way out." you offered, and his pupils dilated. Suddenly piqued by your proposition. He takes a strand of your hair and moves it behind your ears. Your faces were mere inches away from each other. "A pretty lady offers me a proposition, I cannot decline." he agrees with the deal.

You stare deep into those purple eyes.

"I'm fairly new to court, they don't trust me - I've made a few enemies. Especially Lord Otto, and I know enough to know that you are smarter than you seem - that he fears you to some extent." you whispered, your voice low so that he'd have to lean closer to hear.

"You protect me, and I'll protect you." you offered. "- this thing with Rhaenyra will die down, just pretend that it was some Lyseni whore you bedded, and not your niece. You can still fuck her, if you wish, but be a little more discreet." you counseled.

"Sure." he hummed, pulling away from your body.

It's been a few months since the start of your alliance with the Rogue Prince, and surprisingly he's become a decent friend. Hilarious, when he tries. "Drink this," he placed a cup of ale in front of you. It wasn't your first time in Fleabottom, but it was your first time going here incognito beside him.

"Gods, aren't you going to help Harwin?" you chuckled, taking a slight sip of the ale. It was much too strong for your tastes. Daemon laughed in return, raising his hand and calling out to Harwin. "Are you alright?" he inquired and the man nodded his head sluggishly, fighting against the effects of alcohol.

"He's alright," Daemon antagonized, biting back a few giggles. "This is my first time seeing you loosen off. You're kind of a boring prude." he insulted jokingly, and you responded with an eye-roll. "Fuck you." your eyes narrowed.

"Seven hells, aren't you going to do anything now?" you raised an eyebrow, seeing Harwin led to the stage by a few bedwarmers. One of the girls pressed kisses on his cheeks. "I thought I was your only one," Daemon chuckled, not planning to stop Harwin from having his fun. "I thought you were old friends." you teased.

"Closer than friends, lesser than lovers." he shrugged and a laugh escapes your mouth. You always managed to laugh at his antics. He always pretended to be close to the people that hated him, sometimes even referring to Otto Hightower as the father he never had - of course, that was an insult to the man's physical features.

There was a comfortable silence between you, a silence that was only marred by the habitual sipping of ale. "You frequent these types of places?" you inquired, only beginning to realize the slight reddish tint on his cheeks.

"I used to, but not much now, they've grown...boring." he waited for the right words to exit his mouth. The truth was, he found himself slowly liking your company - liking the words that came out of your mouth, the insults that made him laugh, and the thought of fucking a woman who was only paid to moan and groan left him unfulfilled. He craved something deeper - like an idiot, he wanted a woman that understood him, that was able to shake his soul with avarice.

He needed someone like you, but he hasn't quite figured that out yet.

"The Prince of Flea Bottom, finding his own kingdom...boring." you mimicked his tone. "I've merely understood the fact that there are much better things to do than empty my spend on a whore's belly." he retorted, the conversation turning serious. "You should return to your wife and empty your seed on that belly." you teased once more, you've always laughed at the topic of his wife.

"I fucking hate you," he took a large swig of his ale. "- get me pissed enough and I'll fuck you, I swear to god." he cursed and you froze slightly. He made you feel dangerous for a moment. Like something could sweep by and take him, and you won't even have the right to mourn - you'll just watch him go, and wallow in the memory of him being vulgar with you.

285 notes · View notes

malevessel · 1 month

Text

I don't remember much about the possession.

I only know that I gave up. I betrayed my family, my brother and I gave up. I stopped fighting. I was very tired, not only from trying to expel my possessor, but from seeing how he harmed my family. He hit my brother when he started to dig deeper into my strange behavior. He insulted my mother and almost beat up my father. I couldn't take it anymore and gave up. Because I'm a coward

Sometimes I have flashes of what he does with my body. Small moments of lucidity, produced by some failure in his control. Yesterday, I think it was yesterday, I saw how he fucked a girl in a bed that I didn't know. God, Alice, I betrayed her too.

I don't feel pain, I don't feel anything he does, but the restlessness of being locked in your body, in your own mind, is more than enough torture.

A sharp pain in my eyes wakes me up and I slowly open them, blinded by the bright light of the sun. "I can move" is the first thought that comes to my mind. "I feel my body" is the second.

I try to stand up a little, failing due to lack of practice using my body, I don't know how much time has passed. I am in a large room, a hospital, and through the window I can see the bay of my city. At the side of the bed, there is an armchair, and my brother is asleep in it.

Anton, Ant!!! My voice feels different, deeper and more masculine. My brother wakes up and when he looks at me and sees that I'm awake, he screams. Mom, dad, he's woken up!!!

The next moment, a warm and aggressive hug was suffocating me, and my family was on top of me. My mother and my brother crying, and my father about to join in the crying too.

I'm sorry. It's the only sentence that comes out of my mouth. My mother is the first to speak. It's okay, honey. He's gone, he's not going to do anything to you anymore, not anymore

Then my brother. It's my fault Paul, I should have realized it sooner, I should have saved you......

I didn't really know what to say. The following hours my parents and my brother told me everything that had happened.

Five months had passed. Bob, my possessor, had sneaked into my house one night, through my window. The police assumed that he made the possession there. At first it was subtle, my parents and my brother noticed that something was wrong, but little did they know that a dangerous criminal had impersonated their son. The days passed and "my" behavior became erratic, increasingly evident that something was very, very wrong. In the end, my parents had no choice but to throw me out of the house, or Bob, and report me to the police. I was a danger to them. That was only during the first month, but they didn't know anything else about me, except for some information that Anton found out. It seems that Bob started a drug trafficking business again, with my body. They received no more news until a week ago when a police officer, more precisely Detective Sheila Mille, called my parents' house and explained the situation to them. The police were not sure that I was possessed, but for my family there was no doubt.

All the helplessness they felt during those months turned into anger, anger towards Bob, and hope, hope that I, their son, was still somewhere.

At my request, we talked again and stayed like that for a few more hours.

The police came to take my statement a few hours later, and when they left, Detective Sheila arrived, and with my family's permission, explained the situation to me, who Bob was, and why he could do what he did. I honestly couldn't understand much of what he was saying.

A few hours later I was discharged from the hospital and went home. While my parents prepared dinner, Anton and I met in my room. I needed to apologize

I'm sorry, I gave up, I couldn't do anything and you paid the price.

You don't have to apologize, Paul. In any case, it is my fault, for not having trusted my instincts, my heart that kept telling me that the person in front of me was not my brother.

When we finished talking, we had dinner as a family and when I returned to my room, I noticed it. A pain that was not pain. An anguish. My brother came through the door and threw something into my hands, a pack of cigarettes.

What the hell are you doing? I don't smoke

You don't, but Bob does. And he smoked every day for the five months he was in you. It's horrible and you're going to leave it as soon as possible, but not today. Today you have too many things on your mind to worry about that.

Before I could say anything else, the cigarette was already lit, and I was already smoking. This shit hit hard, it was going to be difficult to quit.

...........

The next morning I got up early and wanting to get back into my routine, I got ready to go to the gym. I hesitated whether to take the cigarettes or not and in the end decided not to, without realizing that I had already put them in my backpack without thinking about it.

......

This is going to continue

277 notes · View notes

inkstainedchessboard-if · 2 months

Text

There is an ichor creeping its way through Wonderland, devouring residents never to be seen again. That's how you got your "promotion" to the Role of the Cheshire Cat. You thought things would be okay until an Ink Well appeared right in the middle of the Red Queen's garden and took out half of the court gathered there. Now you're tasked with finding the source of the ichor and stopping it before it consumes all of Wonderland.

The Ink Stained Chessboard is a WIP and interactive CYOA novel. It is a fantasy adventure romance story with heavy focus on plot, romance, and stats. It is inspired by Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. It's being written in Twine.

So by popular vote, this is now my main focus! I'll try to keep it updated as much as possible!

Note: Because this is a WIP the name of some places or people may change between now and the final version.

Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Romance

Rating: Not rated as of right now.

Tracked Tag: #ink stained chessboard

Demo || Romance Options || Side Characters || FAQ || Tag Navigation

In The Ink Stained Chessboard, you play as a Wonderland resident who's been "promoted" to the position of the Cheshire Cat. You were simply minding your own business one day when you were ripped from your original Role and put into the Role of the Cheshire Cat. You've been in the Role for a little bit now. As for who put you in the role? Wonderland, itself did that. A bit bizarre, but it does have a mind of its own.

Without the interference of an "Alice" figure, life is pretty normal. Odd but normal. It's not always wacky and nonsensical in Wonderland, believe it or not. When an "Alice" appears, Wonderland moves all of its pieces to tell the story again and again like a play. That's how its supposed to work anyways. But ever since this strange ink-like substance appeared the story hasn't been running smoothly like it should.

When an Ink Well appears during a tea party in the Red Queen's garden and consumes half of the court, you decide it's time to do something about this. With a group of pretty unlikely allies, you set off to find what's causing the ichor to appear and stop it.

Play as a male, female, or nonbinary Cheshire Cat

Customize the way you look, including your ears and tail and your cat form! Your normal form is humanoid with cat ears and a tail

Choose what your Role was before Wonderland made you the Cheshire Cat. Your previous Role will give you exclusive abilities not available to other roles

Choose to romance 1 of 5 options or none at all

Figure out what's going on with the ichor and why it's appearing and where do the residents it absorbs go

Make a decision with the fate of Wonderland in your hands

The Cheshire Cat - You (he/him), (she/her), or (they/them)

You play as the Cheshire Cat. You possess all the typical things associated with the cat, such as disappearing and reappearing and your iconic grin. Your previous Role will also give you specific abilities. Being put in a Main Role made you functionally immortal so you don't know how old you really are, but physically, you appear to be in your mid-twenties (24-26).

The people of Wonderland sometimes call you Chess/Chessie.

Appearance: Player Determined, although your base figure is humanoid with cat ears and a tail

The Alice - Alice/Alex Liddle (she/her) or (he/him)

A is the newest "Alice" to Wonderland. The 103rd "Alice" to be exact. Because of the ichor, their story broke apart pretty early on leaving them basically stranded in Wonderland with no direction. It's good that they're a precocious person and found their own way to the Red Queen's garden. They're a bit naive but are earnest and kind and was one of the first people to volunteer to go with you. Their only stipulation: to go home when it's done.

Appearance: A is on the shorter side of average in terms of height. Alice is 5'3 and Alex is 5'8. They both have fair skin with freckles and loosely curly blonde hair. Alice has long hair while Alex's is about medium-length. Their eyes are light blue and their frame is lithe and thin. They appear to be in their early twenties (20-23).

The Mad Hatter - Olivia/Oliver (she/her) or (he/him)

O is the Mad Hatter. They aren't the "original" Mad Hatter, but they've been in their Role longer than you've been the Cheshire Cat. They are eccentric and a bit unpredictable. That's probably why they were the second person to volunteer to go with you to figure out what's going on, after Alice/Alex. You two don't really get along, bickering often when not in your Roles, so you're surprised when they volunteered. Being a Main Role, like you, they also are functionally immortal, but appear to be in their mid-twenties (24-26), as well.

Appearance: O is pretty tall with Olivia being around 5'9 and Oliver being about 6'1. They both have clear tanned skin and orange-red hair. Their hair is mixed textures with some strands being straight and others wavy. They always keep their hair down, even if it's inconvenient. They have brown eyes and a lanky frame.

The Red Queen/The Queen of Hearts - Isabelle (she/her)

Isabelle is the Red Queen and the Queen of Hearts. You find her Role varies from "Alice" to "Alice". She's fairly new to the Role, having acquired her position around the same time you became the Cheshire Cat. She's a bit stiff and serious, trying to figure out where her role stops and where she begins. She, like her predecessors, has a passion for roses and it was her garden that was destroyed by the Ink Well. You aren't surprised when she says she's coming with you "for her rose garden". As a Main Role, she is also functionally immortal. She physically appears to be in her early thirties (30-33).

Appearance: Isabelle is a woman of about average height, standing at 5'5. She has soft brown skin and straight black hair. She has red eyes and a fuller figure.

The Jabberwocky - Fenrir (he/him)

Fenrir is the Jabberwocky. He is the second Jabberwocky ever in Wonderland. His role, like Isabelle's, varies from "Alice" to "Alice". Some "Alices" don't ever go near him while others face him. He's solemn and fairly stoic and serious. He's the last person you expected to volunteer since he prefers to be solitary, although you suspect it's because he just wants to get this over with and go back to minding his own business. As a Main Role, he is functionally immortal, but physically appears in his late twenties (27-29).

Appearance: Fenrir is pretty tall, standing at a wild 6'5. He has tanned olive skin and black hair with streaks/highlights of dull blue and green. His eyes are grey and he has an fit figure, not too muscular but not lanky either. He has a few light scars on his face.

Wonderland - ??? (it/its)

Wonderland is... Wonderland. It has a personality of its own and is the one who moves you and the others around when there's an "Alice". It's in charge of making sure the "Alice's" story runs smoothly and to get them in and out quickly. Due to the ichor appearing, it's no longer running smoothly, often forgetting to move pieces around causing a disruption of the cycle. When the Ink Well appeared in the Red Queen's garden, it seems to have stopped "working" all together.

Appearance: It's a land, so far. Notable chessboard fields?

Mysterious Figure - ??? (they/them)

What's Wonderland without one mysterious figure? After the latest Ink Well in the Red Queen's garden, you've been seeing them around Wonderland. You aren't sure if they're following you or if you're indirectly following them, but you seen them quite often. Even odder, every time you see them, they look confused. How strange...

Appearance: You haven't gotten close enough to fully look at them, but you think they at least have blue hair? Or was it purple? Maybe green or even pink? You swear it was white one time. Their skin is very pale, nearly paper white. They're tall from what you can tell. Probably around 6'2. They're clothed in a long black robe with a hood. It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?

#the ink stained chessboard #ink stained chessboard #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive story #if wip #if game #text based game #twine if #twine game #twine wip #twine interactive fiction #twine story

297 notes · View notes

howyouloveyourdragon · 3 months

Text

dividers by hitobaby

͎𓇢𓆸 Lavender Haze ʚɞ Summary: 'Meet me at midnight...', The Realm's Delight has a secret, a secret that she delights in Fleabottom with unapproved company... ʚɞ Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Prostitute!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Brief sexual content

͎𓇢𓆸 Mastermind ʚɞ Summary: Rhaenyra, eldest child of Viserys Targaryen who is leader of one of the strongest businesses finds herself enraptured by a pretty reporter ʚɞ Pairing: Modern!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Journalist!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: None

𓇢𓆸 Pearls* ʚɞ Summary: Three women, two purses and one whirlwind affair behind your best friend's back. It was never supposed to go past your uni accommodation but suddenly a set of pearls look very appealing...will you bite the bait? ʚɞ Pairing: Modern!Sugar Mommy!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Sugar Baby!Reader x Modern!Sugar Mommy!Alicent Hightower ʚɞ Warnings: Smut (edging, mommy kink, cunnilingus, light bondage, strap-on)

🇼🇮🇵🇸 𓇢𓆸 A Sunset Seal ʚɞ Summary: Rhaenyra had never much liked the thought of being used like a pawn and especially not after she meets a mysterious man who also hates the chains that marriage embraces. When they both find themselves betrothed to people unknown they plan to run away together...they just do not know how very close they are to their own curse ʚɞ Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Male!Martell!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Betrothals

𓇢𓆸 Of Lances and Thorns ʚɞ Summary: Rhaenyra's world stopped spinning the day her father married her best friend but when her wallowing is interrupted by the chastised older Hightower, she finds that there may be some silver amidst her grey. ʚɞ Pairing: Princess!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Male!Hightower!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Betrothals, misogyny, smut

𓇢𓆸 Perfect* ʚɞ Summary: Rhaenyra has never been more bored than when on her tour for marital prospects...but then she met that sweet red haired girl with the most sweet doe eyes. What doesn't bore her are all the stirring images her mind curates at the sight of the innocent riña in her bed. ʚɞ Pairing: Princess!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Tully!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Smut

͎𓇢𓆸 Only Queen ʚɞ Summary: A Queen needs her loyal handmaiden...even when her heart and hope has been broken and torn from her without a further glance... ʚɞ Pairing: Queen!Alicent Hightower x Fem!Handmaiden!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: None

͎𓇢𓆸 Last Kiss ʚɞ Summary: 'I never thought we'd have a last kiss...' If Alicent had known that that would be your last kiss then she would have held you a lot tighter... ʚɞ Pairing: Queen!Alicent Hightower x Fem!Handmaiden!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Death

🇼🇮🇵🇸 𓇢𓆸 The Set Up ʚɞ Summary: Alicent is determined to find Rhaenyra a compelling match and Y/n is determined to gift his uncle a throne. When they mutually agree to convince the Velaryon's cousin to propose to the heir of Westeros, a young Queen and Lord find their intentions swaying in the worst way. They are falling in love. ʚɞ Pairing: Queen!Alicent Hightower x Male!Velaryon!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Betrothals, misogyny, tooth-aching fluff

𓇢𓆸 My Breeze of Decay ʚɞ Summary: Falling in love comes easy to you, a love match unites you with a beauty of the Lands and once you are wed, you could not be more elated...until a horrible incident occurs and her fate is left with the gods. Can you travel the journey to her? ʚɞ Pairing: Eurydice!Alicent Hightower x Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Death

𓇢𓆸 Everybody Wants You ʚɞ Summary: You're tired of all the rumours; that your betrothed has found loyalties of the heart elsewhere, in Winterfell. ʚɞ Pairing: Heir!Jacaerys Velaryon x Betrothed!Fem!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Infidelity accusations, miscommunication, angst, eventual fluff

𓇢𓆸 Namesday ʚɞ Summary: You spend your namesday with you two favourite princes... ʚɞ Pairing: Prince!Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader x Prince!Aemond Targaryen ʚɞ Warnings: Smut (piv, cunnilingus)

𓇢𓆸 The Heart Bestowed ʚɞ Summary: Jacaerys loves nothing more than a duty fulfilled. Y/n has other impressions. Ever since they were young, they presumed that they would some day find one another in the Sept amongst family and reciting practiced vows to one another. However, they could not be more different nor more infuriated in their joined presence. Neither of them have any greater desires than to quell the other...So why do they feel so disappointed when they are both betrothed to another? ʚɞ Pairing: Prince!Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Tyrell!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Betrothals

𓇢𓆸 No Rest For The Dragons ʚɞ Summary: All is quiet but no sense of peace can be caught between your fingertips, not even at night and so it is difficult to find sleep. Not until you win the war and crown your prince victorious...Your betrothed, Jacaerys, seems to have other priorities. ʚɞ Pairing: Heir!Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Betrothed!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Talk of war

𓇢𓆸 The Softest Love ʚɞ Summary: Sometimes all you need is a gentle lover and a comforting hand, Jacaerys knows this all too well with you at his side and a crown at his temple ʚɞ Pairing: King!Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Wife!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Brief talk of war

🇼🇮🇵🇸

𓇢𓆸 Just a Little ʚɞ Summary: You cannot remember a day where your heart has ever swelled nor a day where your throat has caught so quickly than the night you met Cregan Stark with his broad arms and swoon-worthy stare. He is the epitome of the North, resembling a man stern, sensible and strong. You are sure that no man is more worthy of your love and attention. So you enlist the assistance of your childhood friend Jacaerys. You have never been wondrous in your attempts to charm suitors but the man to have a new love every travel? He surely must know what can romance your newest interest, you are also certain that your love trusts him above no other. They are practically brothers. But when Jacaerys agrees, willing to give you the sun if you so much as wish it, you start to feel a growing warmth in your gut, a curling ribbon squeezing your heart. Oh dear... ʚɞ Pairing: Prince!Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Best-Friend!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Mild angst

𓇢𓆸 Lack of Lessons ʚɞ Summary: "Love comes later,, Your mother had told you - promised you - and yet you feel no love as the King's son rolls his eyes at your presence and begrudgingly takes your hand...Until a second prince catches your eye. You find yourself in lessons with his nephew as you both learn to navigate the new world you have been thrust into. ʚɞ Pairing: Prince!Jacaerys Velaron x Fem!Highborn!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Rivals to lovers, betrothals

𓇢𓆸 Gold Rush ʚɞ Summary: 'I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush...' Aegon didn’t like most people but he liked you until it tore him from the inside out. You’re perfect, his gold and shimmering light. The problem? He’s not perfect. He’s not even a third of what you will one day amount to and everybody knows it…even him. ʚɞ Pairing: Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: angst, mentions & depictions of alcoholism, car crash, fluff

𓇢𓆸 Sweet Girl* ʚɞ Summary: Aegon and Aemond are less than impressed when they hear that their sweet girl has been betrothed to a man of House Blackwood. They decide she must be claimed in every way a dragon can be claimed and perhaps they may discover even more. ʚɞ Pairing: Prince!Aegon II Targaryen x Niece!Reader x Prince!Aemond Targaryen ʚɞ Warnings: Smut (piv, oral (male & female receiving,light degradation, spit, praise, corruption, overstimulation, soft, rough, hickeys), possessiveness, incest

🇼🇮🇵🇸

𓇢𓆸 Prince of Rouge* ʚɞ Summary: Moulin Rouge AU - The year is 1899 when you enter your new city's most hailed night club and meet the mysterious Aegon. After a night of passion and lingering glances, you come to find that he has already been promised to another and a choice paints your mind. Fizzle your desires or dance in secret hallways. ʚɞ Pairing: Satine!Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Smut

𓇢𓆸 The Memories* ʚɞ Summary: Aegon hadn't touched his drinks in years but when he sees your face in his nightmares, he will do anything to forget that fateful night. ʚɞ Pairing: King!Aegon II Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Smut, Betrothals

𓇢𓆸 Eagerness* ʚɞ Summary: Aegon has never craved anything like he has craved the eagerness of your touch... ʚɞ Pairing: Prince!Aegon II Targaryen x Greyjoy!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Smut

𓇢𓆸 Some Thread of Time ʚɞ Summary: It has been years since Aemond has seen his childhood companion, once attached to the hip and now mere strangers harbouring the same memories but no matter how long it's been, he can't seem to let go ʚɞ Pairing: Prince!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Highborn!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Angst

🇼🇮🇵🇸

𓇢𓆸 Some Seam of Regret ʚɞ Summary: Aemond's childhood love has finally returned to court after a less than standard herald calls for her...But she arrives with her husband. ʚɞ Pairing: Prince!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Married!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Angst, death

𓇢𓆸 Some Ghost of Time ʚɞ Summary: Before betrothals and schemes and untold plots; a prince loved a lady and a lady loved a prince. Never had a soul think such a pairing to be doomed but alas they do not know yet of this tale... ʚɞ Pairing: Young!Prince!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Married!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Angst, depiction of violence

𓇢𓆸 Crystals* ʚɞ Summary: You have been a travelling bard ever since you were young but after accidentally being left in Harrenhal, you are left at the mercy of a witch and her prince... ʚɞ Pairing: Dark!Alys Rivers x Bard!Reader x Dark!Prince Aemond Targaryen ʚɞ Warnings: Smut, obsession, possessiveness

𓇢𓆸 Maroon ʚɞ Summary: 'The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon...' All will be well so long as Helaena is able to keep her precious handmaiden safe...if she is not? Well that is another question... ʚɞ Pairing: Queen!Helaena Targaryen x Fem!Handmaiden!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Angst, mention of suicide

🇼🇮🇵🇸

𓇢𓆸 I Think He did It ʚɞ Summary: Helaena has been your friend for a long time. She tells you everything, what she ate that morning, whether her spider, Dreamfyre, snuck out again or how the children are but most importantly where she suspects her husband to be spending his nights because it is most certainly not in her bed. So it is no surprise who you are suspicious of when she suddenly goes missing. ʚɞ Pairing: Modern!Helaena Targaryen x Fem!Best-Friend!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Murder, infidelity

𓇢𓆸 Remnants* ʚɞ Summary: They say that you never forget your first love but the vultures are prey to weakness and intend to infiltrate Daemon’s own desires to preserve his adere riñus (slippery girl). Some say the woman will forever remain in his conscience, guiding his bloodied sword and singing sweet lost lullabies to lay his rest. For it has been too long since the volatile dragon slept peaceful. A prince with more gold than he can keep. A prince who can demand whatever he wishes and command any army. And yet all he is left with…All he is left with are the remnants of her which he swore to cherish as religiously as he would an idol. ʚɞ Pairing: Prince!Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Lowborn!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Smut, derogatory language, prejudice, angst, disease, character death, fluff, infidelity, slowburn, classism

𓇢𓆸 The Moon ʚɞ Summary: History remembers names, not blood, he knows that all too well so why are you so important to The Sea Snake, the bastard of the Rogue Prince ʚɞ Pairing: Corlys Velaryon x Fem!Targaryen!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: None

🇼🇮🇵🇸

𓇢𓆸 The Study of Affection ʚɞ Summary: Cregan Stark cannot say that he is used to romance which is why it is so nerve-wracking when he realises the princess expects him to court her rather than negotiate an arrangement. The lord finds himself in need of help and your nephew is more than eager to provide. ʚɞ Pairing: Hand!Cregan x Fem!Targtower!Reader ʚɞ Warnings: Pining

#masterlist #house of the dragon masterlist #hotd masterlist #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #alicent hightower x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aegon ii x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #corlys velaryon x reader

336 notes · View notes

superprincesspea · 4 days

Text

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 15 - Forfeit

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

When your mother and sisters break away to join the queen in the wheelhouse, you’re taken to the stable where the horse waiting for you is a chestnut mare with a little white patch between her eyes.

“Flare,” the groom calls her, and she does not look pleased to see you.

In fact, she snorts when you offer her your hand, her foot stamping on the hay, and you think the only thing worse than a long ride to the Kingswood, was to do it on a horse that already hated you.

Still, it wasn’t really the riding you minded so much as the company, Aemond’s company to be precise, though you had not yet seen him.

“Your saddle, my lady,” the groom says, interrupting your thoughts before presenting you with a fine brown side-saddle, its leather work embossed with dragons and ivy.

“I shall be riding astride this morning,” you tell him, deciding there was no way you would ride an untested horse without the complete control of both your legs.

“But this saddle is a gift from the Queen!” The groom retorts, looking completely aghast at your suggestion, his brow knitted and his words curt despite your rank.

A gift? Surely not.

Yet , the brass work is all shiny and new, the leather without cracks or marks to sully the pattern. But the most startling detail, which you’re not quite sure how you’d missed before, is the pommel, where the first letter of your name entwines with a dragon.

For a gift, it’s certainly an extravagant one and hardly fitting for the third daughter of Borros Baratheon.

You’ve never even had your own saddle before and refusal feels so awfully rude you hardly dare to say it, yet, if Alicent wanted you to travel to the Kingswood with the men, then you should be free to ride like one too.

“That may be so,” you say, chin up, defiant , “but I shall be riding astride or not at all.”

And to be perfectly honest, you didn’t want to be riding around on a lavish gift detailed for a Targaryen either.

What would people think?

What was Alicent thinking?

“You heard the Lady,” Aemond’s voice causes you to start as he appears by your side, his presence enough to force the groom to submit to your wishes without another word.

But you don’t thank him, you’re too busy trying not to think about how he’d asked you to marry him the last time you’d spoke. Yet you can think of little else.

“This is the horse they have given you?” he says, his foot easing onto the bottom rung of the fence, his tone enough to confirm your fears.

“Is there something wrong with her?” you ask, a sinking feeling pulling at your stomach.

“Not if you enjoy unruly beasts.”

You meet his eye, and a smile twitches at his lips before he glances over your shoulder.

“Boy ,” he calls to the stable hand hovering in the background, “is there no other horse to saddle for the lady?”

The boy shrugs, his attention darting around nervously before finally admitting, “the queen requested Flare personally , my prince.”

“Hmm ,” Aemond’s jaw tightens, his finger drumming on the fence as the groom returns with a new saddle. This one black with yet more dragons.

“Have my lady saddled on Ōños and I shall ride Flare,” Aemond tells him.

“But -” the groom half protests, neither wanting to disobey his queen or his prince.

“You'd rather my lady was thrown from the horse?” Aemond says, and it's not a question, his tone is sharp, commanding.

Aemond gets what Aemond wants.

“You need not switch horses with me,” you tell him, when the groom scurries away again, thinking you do not wish to have a prince of the realm thrown from a horse on your account.

But he shrugs, unconcerned, “I am the superior rider, so it only makes sense for you to have the easier horse.”

You can’t help but laugh, amused by the utter certainty of the words coming from his mouth and, even if you were quite sure they were true, it was such an arrogant thing to say that you felt compelled to refute it.

“Tell me,” you say, eyes wide, “is there a reason his grace already considers himself superior when he has never even seen me ride?”

“You have seen my dragon, yes ?”

“Briefly , but this is not a dragon, it's a horse.”

His eye slides to Flare then back to you, “I trained on horseback every day of my childhood before acquiring Vhagar then three times a week after that. How often do you ride, my Lady?”

"Six times a week, when I am home,” you answer, with so much confidence you almost believe it. But you would not be bested yet again, and you were certainly no novice since your father, who’d always longed for sons, had insisted on frequent practice.

A fresh smile quivers at Aemond's lips, his brow raised, "is that so? Then perhaps my lady will need to come to my aid when I am struggling to keep up with her?”

You picture Aemond on a wild bucking horse and can’t help but laugh, “I must say, it shall be difficult to aid his grace if I am too busy making fun of him.”

“Oh, I have no doubt in that regard, Lady Baratheon,” he says, seeming to almost enjoy the prospect, before the groom returns with the new horse, all saddled and ready, and certainly not what you expected.

The horse Aemond had ridden at the tourney was a destrier, strong, fierce and entirely black. But this one is smaller, a palfrey perhaps, with a pure white coat and mane, so bright and unblemished, he almost looks as though he cannot be real.

“What did you say his name was?” you ask, words formed with a gasp.

“Ōños.”

“Is that Valyrian?”

“It means ‘Light’,” he answers, his hand pressing to your lower back, guiding you closer, “he was a name day present from my Grandsire when I was a boy.”

“Hello Ōños,” you whisper, stretching your arm to offer him the scent of your hand and he nuzzles into you, allowing you to stroke the spot right between his big dark eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him, moving to pet his neck and run your fingers through the wiry bristles of his glossy mane. “And such a good boy...” you add, admiring him more with each pet, “so gentle... so calm...”

“You offer more praise to this horse than you have ever given your prince,” Aemond says and you’re not sure if he’s scolding you or teasing you, as he moves to ensure your saddle is tight around Ōños waist.

“Are there not ladies enough at court who praise his grace?”

“None that matter .”

“Very well ,” you say, clearing your throat as though your heart isn’t fluttering, “I believe my prince has the most wonderful horse.” Then you laugh, petting Ōños again, “or is that just further praise for you, sweet boy?”

Aemond snorts and you look back at him with yet more laughter.

“If my lady offers crumbs, I shall eat them heartily,” he says, extending his hand to help you mount.

“I have no need for assistance,” you decide, thinking you were finding his company unbearable enough without the touch of his hand, as you take the reins and secure your foot in the stirrup.

But Aemond grasps your waist to help you anyway. Easing you up and over, the skirt of your gown rising to the very top of your thigh with the motion, so you feel the coolness of the air as it hits the bare skin above your stocking.

Gods .

You look down, just in time with Aemond, who reaches eagerly for your hem, as though he is a gentleman.

Yet , as he pulls the skirt back down the length of your leg, his progress is marked with the delicate touch of his fingers in a way that cannot possibly be accidental.

Gods. Gods. Gods.

He meets your frozen stare, his eye dark, and you should say something.

Anything !

But your breath is trapped in your chest, and you can only give thought to the almost unbearable rush of tingles which have hurried excitedly to some deep, unreachable place in your core.

Then he smiles, and it's not a wicked smile, its content , satisfied , and you hate it, almost as much as you hate the way he takes hold of Ōños’ bridle, leading you out into the yard as though nothing is amiss.

Yet, what was the alternative? For him to gloat? Or worse, for him to say one of the thoughts which seemed to race behind the look in his eye?

You didn’t want that . What you wanted, was for you to say something. To react. To scold him. To remind him you were a Lady of house Baratheon and not to be treated as such.

With all of this in mind, and the tingles subsided enough for you to breathe, you shift forward in the saddle, so your words can reach him despite your hushed tone.

“Do not imagine you can take such liberties with me again,” you say, and Aemond stops before he turns to look at you, his smile more wicked than you have ever seen it.

“You give me little credit, Lady Baratheon, my imagination is far more creative than that.”

You frown, not quite understanding his meaning, then understanding it all at once and your gasp is quickly followed by a glare.

“If I told my father what you just did, he would have your hand!”

“If you told your father,” he begins, the wicked look on his face turning decidedly smug, “he would give me your hand, and I’m quite willing to test the theory if you are, my lady?”

He's right, of course , and that only adds more fuel to your temper, though in a yard brimming with people, you can only seethe in silence. Looking at anything but the prince as the morning sun beams down so pleasantly you could scream.

Seven Hells!

You’re beyond grateful when the groom arrives with Flare, providing you momentary relief from Aemond’s unwavering attention, as he moves to inspect his own saddle, before mounting her in one smooth motion which she does not take kindly to.

She stomps in protest, and Aemond pulls at her reins, his hand on her neck, his words low and inaudible in the busy yard, as he gets her under control.

“We should leave before everyone else,” he says when she has calmed, reaching for Ōños’ bridle again and pulling him in time with Flare.

“We should wait,” you insist, glancing to where Ser Maurin is talking with some of the other men, none of them yet mounted on horseback.

"And get stuck trudging through the droppings of a dozen horses all morning?”

Your nose crinkles at the idea and, when Aemond smiles, you imagine he’s thinking something along the lines of, ‘that’s what I thought’ , as he continues to lead you towards the open gates.

When you make it as far as the wheelhouse, you peek in through the slatted windows, catching just a glimpse of your sisters talking excitedly with the queen before Aemond releases your bridle and kicks his horse into a trot.

But you don’t follow, you pull on the reins, stopping Ōños since you’re in little doubt that following Aemond will be a mistake.

Yet, you can’t deny the part of you that wants to do it anyway. Because despite what you like to think about yourself, or honour and decorum, there’s a thrill to Aemond’s company that you find irritatingly compelling.

Why was that? You wonder, thinking how safe and easy a ride would be with Tyland Lannister by your side. But he isn’t even invited, you realise now. It’s only your family, Aemond’s family and the guards.

Drawing your hand across the reins, you half-heartedly tell yourself to turn back towards Ser Maurin, where you will be safe from any further improprieties or proposals of marriage, but that’s not what you do.

Perhaps you can blame Ōños, who reacts quickly to even the slightest hint of pressure from your feet. But that would be a lie.

It's your decision to chase Aemond, and Ōños is only too happy to gallop through the yard, as you were sure he’d done countless times before. And it's reckless to ride like this, with so many people in your path, but you seem to have left all common sense in the stable, so why stop now?

You jump a cart filled with apples, overtaking Aemond’s lead, and he was right . You didn’t want to spend the morning trudging behind the wheelhouse. You wanted to fly, and the Kings Road stretches ahead with barely an obstacle in your path.

Ōños, seeming to sense your excitement, picks up speed with little encouragement, dashing through the gates, his hooves pounding the earth so hard you can feel your hair slipping from its pins.

Your horse at Storms End could never run like this , he’s far too old and far too lazy. But Ōños is so powerful he feels unstoppable, yet you must stop, knowing you will quickly leave the procession behind entirely if you keep going.

You tighten your legs, pulling at his reins and he comes to a halt quickly, obediently, turning when you pull the rein again, so you can look back, and see that Aemond’s horse has barely run half the length of yours.

Instead, she’s picking at the brambled hedges which flank part of the path and Aemond is trying desperately to coax her back into his command.

You stifle your laughter, trotting closer.

“Does his grace require my aid so soon?” you tease, more than a little pleased by the look of frustration on his face.

Aemond bites back a grimace, his words laced with exasperation and spoken in High Valyrian as he pulls tightly on the reins. But Flare gives into his insistence at her own pace, taking one last bite of the sun ripened fruits before moving on.

“Perhaps you should ride at the back of the procession after all?” you tease again, noticing the wheelhouse is now ambling its path through the gate.

“Or perhaps I should abandon Flare with a squire, and we can ride pillion as I’m sure my mother intended?”

“Ha ,” you scoff, your eyes narrowing with a dare which should not be coming from your lips, yet you’re feeling so pleased with the situation that it sneaks out anyway, “you’ll have to catch us first.”

Aemond’s eye darkens, his hand snatching to grab your wrist before missing entirely, “is that a promise?”

You don’t answer but you enjoy the adrenaline which pumps in your veins. Yet, why not enjoy it? For once, you’re the one with the upper hand and it feels good, you want to toy with him like he always toys with everyone else.

Unable to contain your smile, you lead Ōños in a circle around Flare, careful to keep just out of reach before you kick him into another gallop which Aemond tries, but fails, to keep up with.

Yet, as always, Aemond is not interested in losing. So, instead of chasing you for miles of road, he turns, heading back to the gold cloaks who are leading the procession before dismounting to switch horses with what looks like Ser Willis.

His new horse is a deep hazelnut brown and much more obedient than Flare, so now the chase is really on, as he seems to fly towards you without any hesitation on the horse's part.

“Come on,” you say excitedly to Ōños, adrenaline still beating in your veins as you kick him into action, charging down the road and leaving Aemond to race through clouds of dust instead of the ones you’re sure he’s more accustomed to.

You keep your lead, all the way to where the road splits into a fork, and you’re forced to slow into a trot, unsure of which route to take.

“Caught you,” Aemond says, grabbing Ōños’ bridle so he can pull you both towards him and you roll your eyes.

“You didn’t catch us,” you tell him, allowing yourself to feel as smug as Aemond usually is, “I stopped.”

“A promise is a promise, Lady Baratheon,” he tries to remind you, your horses turning in a tight circle to keep you together.

“I don’t recall promising you anything .”

His jaw tightens, frustrated, but his eye smiles, “you’ll deny your prince his reward?”

“I’ll deny a cheater ,” you retort, nodding to the horse between his legs, “you were supposed to be riding Flare.”

He releases Ōños’ bridle, a long breath blowing through his nose, “I did not wish to lose.”

“Nor have you won.”

He laughs, his gaze scraping across your lips, “how about a race then? First to the camp shall choose a forfeit for the loser.”

You scoff, feeling a little uneasy at the prospect.

You were already too far ahead of the wheelhouse and feeling quietly certain that there would have been some raised brows at the way you and Aemond had raced ahead of the procession.

Yet, that’s not what you say, or what’s really holding you back, “I do not know the route.”

“It’s only one road from here to camp and Ōños has done it a hundred times.”

You give him a pointed look, “as have you .”

Aemond bites back whatever expression wants to grace his face, “you’re afraid I’ll win? You have the better horse.”

If you refuse him, it would be as good as admitting you thought he was the superior rider after all, and you were not about to do that . “I’m not afraid.”

“Then prove it.”

“Well...” your heart pounds, “what exactly is the forfeit?”

His smile fills his cheeks, his eye looking as blue as the sky behind him.

“When you win, you can tell me,” he says, and you pretend you’re only half considering the bet as you line Ōños up, so it will be a straight shot when you kick him into action.

“See you there! ” you call over your shoulder, racing ahead and unable to contain the burst of laughter which cackles mischievously from your chest.

Now was your chance to best him once and for all and you were not going to squander it, except , Aemond doesn’t follow behind. He jumps the farmers fence, racing his horse through the field and you really should have known better.

In Cyvasse he was always ten steps ahead, so why should this be any different?

Yet, instead of giving up, you only push harder, pressing Ōños to go faster, leaning into every turn as tightly as possible and trying to keep your eyes ahead instead of searching for a dragon. Perhaps that's what he wanted, for you to lose focus, for you to assume his victory. But he wasn’t the only one who enjoyed winning.

You can see the clearing in the distance, see white tents and staff already milling around to ensure everything is prepared for the queen’s arrival. But you can’t see Aemond and that makes you nervous.

You shift your weight forward, almost crouching to gain momentum, just as Aemond’s horse jumps through the trees, landing mere paces ahead of you on the road.

But, while his horse must slow to right itself after such a jump, you and Ōños are only moving faster.

You speed ahead and you can feel him tight on your heels as you make it right into the centre of camp.

“Woah,” you tell Ōños, who seems intent on charging straight through the clearing and beyond, and you're grinning from ear to ear when you circle back to meet the miserable expression on Aemond’s face.

Victory had never felt sweeter, and you intended to gloat.

“You look quite unhappy, your grace,” you say, panting as you try to catch your breath.

Aemond doesn’t reply, and you suspect he is a sore loser of the worst variety, as he kicks his leg over the horse with a frown, before handing the reins to a groom whose probably been standing around since dawn.

“I only wish everyone was here to see how I beat you,” you add, determined to salt the wound but Aemond’s frown is soon smoothed into a reluctant smile.

"Congratulations,” he says, taking your waist and pulling you from the horse so you’re securely in his embrace.

“Though I must admit,” he whispers, still holding you tightly, “I would much prefer my lady to be the one doing the forfeiting.”

You’d forgotten about that part, winning had been pleasure enough alone but a fresh smile brightens your face before you push his arms away.

“Hmm ,” you say teasingly, strolling through the small stretch of camp with Aemond as your shadow, “what's a good forfeit for the most repugnant man in the world?”

He coughs out a laugh, and you already know precisely what his forfeit needs to be, if you are to make it through this picnic with any sense of decorum, but you don’t say it, not yet .

You keep walking, and quickly make your way past the clearing, to where the forest grows beautifully lush and dense, and if you were to choose a picnic spot, it would be this . Not the cover of a tent with servants to bend to your every whim, but here, where the trees tangle with the undergrowth and the only thing you can hear is the unmistakable chorus of the woodland.

“Are you going to tell me or not?” he says, and his impatience makes you want to hold your tongue for as long as possible, but you take small comfort in knowing you’re just about to annoy him.

“Your forfeit,” you say, turning to look at him, “shall be to stay at least 20 paces away from me for the duration of the picnic.”

It might not be very exciting, but it was the only forfeit which made any sense if you didn’t want to spend the entire day wrapped up in his company.

His eye narrows, his head tilting, “and if I don’t?”

You laugh, half amused, half annoyed, "then you shall be obliged to complete an even more humiliating feat!”

Aemond’s jaw ticks, “such as?”

You glance to where the river rolls lazily in the distance and think of all the times he’s mocked you for that day on the beach, “how about a dip in the water, since you like suggesting it so much?”

Aemond snorts, moving closer, “my lady only wishes to punish me when I think she would have found her forfeit very enjoyable indeed.”

Now it's your turn to snort, “if my forfeit was to marry you, then you are mistaken.”

He grins, his eye meeting yours, “I cannot marry you in the Kingswood, but I do find it interesting that you would conjure the idea so readily.”

“I -” you start, your cheeks reddening but he was right. He hadn't said anything about marriage, that was all you .

Seeming to eat up yet another portion of your embarrassment, he unclasps his cloak, letting it fall to a pile on the forest floor.

“What are you doing?” you say, confused , though your gaze holds a keen interest in the way his long fingers begin loosening the buttons on his doublet.

“You said so yourself, if I cannot stay away from you, then I must take a dip in the river.”

The blood drains from your face, your heart stopping just as you meet the determined look in his eye.

“Because I didn’t think you would do it!” you gasp, and the smile that fills his face is made up entirely of mischief.

“Do you not take your bets seriously, Lady Baratheon?”

“Apparently not as seriously as his grace!” you exclaim, reaching to swat his hands away from his chest and dissuade any further progress along the buttons.

But Aemond is resolute and, as each button comes loose, he steps closer, forcing you to back away.

“My lady must believe I would have ensured she took her forfeit very seriously indeed,” he says, his doublet falling open to reveal the stark white linen of his tunic, the strings bound tightly at his neck.

You take another step away from him, your back colliding with the rough bark of a large tree.

“Do you want to know what it was? Your forfeit?” he asks, slowly loosening the long strings with a single pull.

“No.”

A smile quivers at the edges of his lips, and he inches right into your personal space, while the tree holds you still. And you can’t move, only watch, as his tunic unravels enough for you to see there are no bandages across his chest, only the bruise. Faded to a bloom of green instead of purple and so striking against his alabaster skin that you inhale a sharp breath.

Yet, you’re not looking at that . At least not for too long. You're staring at his hands, as they sink downwards to slide the end of his belt through its loops, each click of his buckle making your heart jump.

“This is absurd,” you whisper, your body tensing.

"Really ?” Aemond’s voice is low, seductive . “When I watched you undress, I found it quite mesmerizing.”

Your eyes flick to meet his and he must see the puzzled look on your face.

He had found you in the water, had he not?

“I was on the clifftop, resting Vhagar,” he says, answering the question which had not yet left your lips, “and just before I turned to leave, there you were. Wearing the black and yellow of house Baratheon.”

He pauses, letting the information sink into your bones, and you can hear the tightness in his breath before he laughs softly and continues, “I already thought it unusual for a high-born lady to be alone, so imagine my surprise when you began to take off all your clothes.”

He watched you. From the very first moment. He watched you.

You remember the way your chemise had billowed from your hands, forcing you to chase it down the beach. On the cliffs, he had certainly not been close enough to see every detail, but he had seen you. Your freedom, a moment that had felt so pure, so private .

Your temper burns and you push him with all your might, the action not surmounting to much considering the man you’re trying to repel, and his strength only serves to frustrate you further.

“You really are the worst man that ever lived!” You say and you mean it, but Aemond only smiles, enjoying the suggestion and possessing not an ounce of shame in his actions, past or present.

“I'd say there’s hardly a man alive who could have resisted watching you.”

Perhaps he was right. But he was the man who had been there that day and, though he could have left without saying a single word, he chose to fly closer, to stand where you could see him. To humiliate you.

Still, that is the least of your concerns as his belt comes free and his hand moves to rest beside your head on the tree, the hairs on the back of your neck pricking to attention.

“You’re out of your mind!” you tell him, thinking there was no way you were going to stand around while he took off all his clothes, and when you push him again, he doesn’t budge. He inches closer, his other hand tangling in your hair.

“From the moment I saw you on that beach, yes, ” he concedes, a spark of warmth flickering across your chest, but you ignore it.

“I hope you jump in the river, and it carries you out to sea!”

Aemond bites back his laughter yet he’s so close you can feel the echo of it rippling across his chest, and smell that all too familiar scent of his skin.

“It would be most unfortunate if I were to die without first kissing my lady, do you not agree?”

“I am not your lady.”

“But you have no objection to the kiss?” he shifts slightly, his nose brushing with yours.

“Yes ,” you’re barely breathing, “I have an objection. I- ”

But Aemond doesn’t want to hear what you’re about to say, he wants to kiss you, and you anticipate the touch of his lips with more desperation than you thought yourself capable of.

Yet , as his head tilts, and you feel the heat of his lips searching for yours, you come to your senses and turn away, his kiss landing on your cheek with a low groan.

Still, it is a kiss, Aemond’s kiss, and even if it hadn’t intended to land as such, it was still warm and delicate on your skin, and you couldn’t ignore the way your body reacted. Wanting more, wanting so much more that you were afraid of your own desires.

“I think his grace is forgetting himself,” you scold, your words no louder than the flutter of a butterfly wing, but really, it is you who is forgetting yourself .

“If I am forgetting anything,” he argues, his breath hot on your cheek, “it is why I did not kiss you sooner.”

“I'd say it’s because I do not want you!”

“Need I remind my lady that she has the most terrible face for deception?” His voice is strained, a single finger pushing along your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

"Need I remind his grace that I still find him the most repugnant man in the entire world?”

Or was that just another lie to crumble under his scrutiny? Surely not. No, you find his behaviour mostly smug and sometimes downright appalling. Yet that didn’t stop the way your skin ached for his touch; it didn't stop it for a heartbeat.

“You can remind me every day when we are married,” he promises with a slow, easy smile and, just as you think he might try to kiss you again, you hear a noise. Both of your heads flicking towards the sound.

It’s the wheelhouse, you realise, innocently ambling its way towards the clearing, while you’re standing hot and breathless, pushed up against a tree with Aemond’s clothes half undone and decorum fully discarded.

This was madness! Complete and utter madness! And you only had yourself to blame.

“I’m never marrying you!” you say, resolute , before his gaze returns to yours and he stares at you for a long moment.

“Then my lady must allow me the honour of proving her wrong,” he vows, stepping back so he has room to refasten the strings on his tunic.

You scoff, trying not to look at anything but his face, “I have quite made up my mind on the matter.”

“As have I.”

“This is not a game Aemond, you will not win.”

He pauses, surprised, delighted , “ what did you say?”

His name, you realise. You said his name. Not his grace or my prince or even Prince Aemond, just Aemond.

Your fingers press across your traitorous lips but it's too late to take it back now. So you don’t try. You don’t even dare to say another word.

You’re free to move and you do so assuredly, hurrying back towards camp with your hands brushing through your hair to hide any evidence from your little misadventure in the woods.

Seven Hells!

If Alicent had contrived to force you into Aemond’s company, then she had succeeded entirely.

You’d made one bad decision after another from the moment you’d laid eyes on him in the stable, and if you were being completely honest, you didn't trust yourself not to make another one.

No, what you needed to do was find Cassandra and stick to her ladylike manners for the rest of the day. Perhaps she would even switch places with you in the wheelhouse? Yet, as you think this, you remember how you’d insisted on riding without a side-saddle. Of course you had, because you were just as Septa Orella had always told you. A defiant, ill-tempered girl.

~~~

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader #enemies to lovers #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #slow burn

123 notes · View notes

drakaripykiros130ac · 3 months

Text

“The Greens are political masterminds compared to the Blacks.”

How many times have you heard this bullshit?

Their political incompetence is exactly what cost the Greens their victory in this war, and what gained Otto Hightower the gold medal in the “worst Hand in the history of Westeros” Olympics. And if you ask me, Criston Cole should have the silver for that one.

So, we’re talking about a faction who has been plotting to usurp the rightful heir, Rhaenyra Targaryen, for many, many years. They had so much time to prepare, and so many advantages: Alicent being queen and Otto being Hand, not to mention Rhaenyra and Daemon were away on Dragonstone for many years.

The Hightowers could have swayed things in their favor before Viserys’ death, and failed. They had to shuffle about, beg the Tyrells, send Aemond to Storm’s End with marriage promises etc. all after Viserys died. Lol. What have they done during those 10 years Rhaenyra was away on Dragonstone? They sat on their asses and did nothing. Not even prepare their puppet, Aegon Hightower.

Now, let’s list the Greens’ many, many mistakes:

1. Usurping the throne, instead of minding their own business and returning to Oldtown. Alicent doomed her entire line (children and grandchildren) with her schemes and thirst for power.

2. Not having Aemond and Daeron married by the time of the Dance. Boy, they really blew it with this one. Aemond was 20 when the Dance started and Daeron was 16. They could have been well married by the time Viserys died, and the Hightowers could have secured great alliances in time.

Rhaenyra’s sons were much younger than Alicent’s, and yet years before the Dance, she had Jacaerys and Lucerys betrothed to Baela and Rhaena, securing the Velaryons (a great power House) on her side for good. And certain people still have the nerve to say she did nothing.

Not having Aemond and Daeron married by the time of Viserys’ death, was a missed opportunity, which proves Otto and Alicent’s stupidity. They had the power, and Viserys was easily swayed, and they still screwed up big time.

3. Failing to get the support of their own liege lords, the Tyrells.

4. Failing to get the support of the Red Kraken and by extension, the Iron Islands. I mean, so few people realize that Daemon was the politically savvy one, knowing how to turn the Red Kraken against the Greens by appealing to his thirst for bloodshed. The Greens offered him the position of Master of Ships and he refused them, in exchange for a chance to stick it to the Lannisters. So basically, Daemon offered the Red Kraken nothing, compared to the Greens, and still managed to sway him to his side. That must have been so embarrassing for the Greens 😂.

5. Killing Lucerys. *claps* Well, done, Aemond One-Eye idiot. Before this, Rhaenyra was still determined to make peace with her half-brothers and half-sister, despite the usurpation, but not after they shed first blood and murdered her son. Hell no. Even Alicent and Otto were angry with Aemond for this one, because they knew how badly they screwed up.

The problem is that both Otto and Alicent lacked the intelligence to keep a bloodthirsty, idiotic maniac like Aemond in line. Not to mention that the one on their team holding their only ace-card, Vhagar, was this bloodthirsty, idiotic maniac.

6. Aegon Hightower choosing Criston Cole as his Hand. 😶 When I first read this part in the book, I was shocked. Definitely did not see that coming. Dismissing Otto as Hand (for the second time), I understand, considering that he really exudes incompetence. But what exactly went through the usurper’s puny brain when naming Cole as his Hand is beyond me. He is a military man. He is no political mastermind. Far from it. He is dumb as wood. He spent his entire career life kissing Alicent’s behind and only rising in ranking because of his hatred for Rhaenyra (because a young girl of 14 refused his advances).

There is a reason why Rhaenyra chose Corlys as her Hand, and not Daemon (like everyone expected her to).

Criston Cole led his forces in the Riverlands and got himself killed when facing the Winter Wolves. He didn’t even use his position as Hand. He just wore the pin.

Seriously, this has to be one of their dumbest moves. If I were in this usurper’s position, I would have chosen Tyland Lannister as my Hand, certainly not the overly subjective and creepy Incel who kisses my mother’s behind for a job.

7. Burning the Riverlands…for no good reason. *claps* Once again, let’s applaud Aemond’s idiocy. Basically, he decided to burn the Riverlands because their lords sided with Rhaenyra. That’s it.

Because of his stupidity, he basically secured the entire Riverlands on the side of the Blacks even after Rhaenyra’s death. The Riverlords fought for Rhaenyra’s son instead of agreeing to make peace with the Greens.

8. Choosing the Triarchy as an ally. What exactly made them think that they would gain any points by allying themselves with a great enemy of the people of Westeros? These are foreign savages that Daemon and Corlys have been fighting for years, and the Greens got in bed with them. Bringing an army of dangerous foreigners in a civil war is high treason against the Realm.

9. Burning Bitterbridge. The Reach was the Hightowers’ home, and not only did they fail to gain the support of the Paramount House there, but they also turned many of their bannermen against them. Well done. *sarcasm*

10. This one is one of my favorites: trusting the Goldcloaks. Otto Hightower knew perfectly well that the Goldcloaks were Daemon’s men, and despite making some changes and putting his son, Gwayne, as second in command, Otto still managed to get played and the Goldcloaks turned on the Greens when Daemon arrived in the capital.

The smart thing to do would have been to disband the Goldcloaks when the usurpation happened. The decision to keep them lost the Greens the capital.

11. Proposing to call a Great Council only when realizing that they were losing. So, once Rhaenyra took the capital, only then, did Alicent propose to call a Great Council. Why couldn’t she suggest that before usurping the throne? Alicent’s stupidity got her the nickname “Queen of Chains”.

12. Trusting the Dragonseeds who betrayed Rhaenyra. Seriously…how stupid could they be? Don’t they know that people who betray once have a tendency to do it again??? The Two Betrayers wasted no time and turned on the Greens soon after because they wanted the throne for themselves.

13. Trusting Larys Strong. This creep got his own family killed for the sake of power. He has no morals and is just like Littlefinger. Once he realized that the Greens were losing, Larys turned on them and most likely participated in poisoning Aegon the Usurper.

14. Refusing to name Aegon the Younger heir and sue for peace with the Black armies after Rhaenyra’s death. This basically guaranteed the Greens’ permanent defeat.

15. Trying to convince her eight year old granddaughter to kill her husband lost Alicent any freedom rights after she lost the war, and she spent the rest of her life in isolation and madness.

So, seriously, people who say that Otto and Alicent are politically intelligent need to get a clue and read the book.

227 notes · View notes

genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

A Star from Another Universe

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader/Idol!Reader

Summary: What if Alice found you when you first arrived in Teyvat? Alice nursed you back to health, and you stayed with her until you healed. One day, Alice goes up to you while you're babysitting Klee and asks you what your thoughts are on becoming an idol.

Note: I have been having so many random AUs recently that I need to get it out of my head. This is Idol!reader AU for the ongoing Isekai'd!reader one-shot series! :> This entire story is what I have had on my mind for a while, and I honestly don't mind making a "small" headcanon on what kind of fans the men are. Since there are almost thirty people in the harem. Anyway! I hope all Al Haitham wanters are Al Haitham havers! :> I was able to get him on my NA account and my Asia account ^^ Keep in mind that I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of 🤔

Word Count: 8.7k

The day you appeared mysteriously in Teyvat, a woman took you under her wing to nurse you back to your healthy state. The woman went by the name Alice; she was a sweet woman who mothered you as if you were her own child. Alice is not only charming, but there’s something about her that makes her feel so powerful, almost intimidating.

You’re not from Teyvat or their universe; you’re an outlander, but you’re not like the two blonde outlander twins searching for their kin. You’re an outlander whose existence does not belong in their universe; you just mysteriously appeared in their world without an explanation. Not even Alice can figure out what brought you to Teyvat.

A few weeks after the injuries you sustained from being thrown into Teyvat had healed, Alice approaches you one day while you’re outside playing with Klee. Today is the second time you’re tasked to babysit Klee while Alice is out and about tending to her business; you nearly got bombed with the fishes in the lake. It was not fun, but Klee made it up to you by giving you a small dodoco plush similar to the one hanging off her backpack.

“[Y/N], sweetheart, how are you feeling today?” Alice asks, walking up to you while Klee is chasing a crystal fly five feet away from you two.

You give Alice a smile and wave at the woman. “I’m doing great! The concoction you have given me for my injuries has helped me greatly. I really appreciate it, Alice,” you said sincerely.

Alice pulls you into her arms and rubs your back. “That’s great to hear, sweetheart,” Alice coos.

You hug Alice back, and the two of you pull away from the hug. You hear Klee scream with joy; you turn to look, only to see Klee jumping up and down in the air while cheering that she finally caught a crystal fly. Klee looks over at you and Alice; her eyes light up before making her way toward you and Alice.

“Look what I got!” Klee squeals, holding her hand out to show you and her mother the anemo crystal fly in the palm of her hands. “Isn’t it pretty?” Klee asks in awe.

Her eyes fill with wonder as she watches the crystal fly flutter out of her hands. Klee pouts and turns around, running off to catch another crystal fly. You look at Alice and notice her looking at you from head to toe, her chin propped up on her fist, head tilting to the side.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Alice?” You ask, laughing nervously.

Alice purses her lips and squints at you. “What do you think about becoming an idol?” Alice asks.

Your eyes widen. “An idol?! Like, singing and dancing in front of a large audience?” You squeak.

Alice nods. “That is correct! What do you think about being an idol? I think you have the potential to be a worldwide idol,” Alice says.

She turns you around, continuing to look at you from head to toe. You have no idea how it’s going to work out. You being an idol while you’re from another universe? Would the fans and critics even care about your origins and background? There’s no way you can be an idol in Teyvat— no way at all.

After that day and the conversation between you and Alice, you find yourself sitting on a chair backstage. You look at your reflection in the mirror while the stylists are getting you ready for your performance. It’s been a year since the conversation between you and Alice, and now you’re an idol.

It’s strange and sudden; it feels like a blur, and everything around you has changed so much and so fast that you end up getting whiplash from it all. You lean back in your seat and close your eyes, letting the makeup artist apply sparkly eyeshadow on your eyelids, putting small gemstones at the corner of your eyes. Alice insisted you become an idol so you can thrive in Teyvat. When she told you that, you knew she was telling you to get off your ass and get a job. You don’t mind getting a job in Teyvat, but getting a career as an idol? That is something you would never imagine yourself being.

“How much time do you guys need before [Y/N] goes up on stage to perform again?” The security asks, peeking into your dressing room.

“Give us five more minutes, and we’ll have [Y/N] out on stage soon,” Emilia, your makeup artist, says, dabbing a little bit of foundation on your face.

You didn’t expect much when you first started as an idol. You had low expectations for yourself because why would anyone be a fan of an idol that did not belong in their universe? Especially when you don’t know what region they’re from; many have speculated that you’re from one of the seven nations in Teyvat, but all continued to be speculations and have never been confirmed nor denied.

Your existence and general background are shrouded in mystery. That’s what made you appealing to your audience; your fans. Despite being a charming and appealing idol, you’re still mysterious, and that’s what the fans love about you. You have a lot of fans, even more than you expected. You expected to have around fifteen fans, but you were wrong. Your popularity is booming, and it excites Alice (she is also your agent). She has booked you many interviews and TV shows (she also wants you to have a background in acting) and booked as many performances as possible to get your name out in Teyvat.

Within two months of your debut as an idol from another universe (that is what you’re known for), your face is all over magazines, billboards, posters, and advertisements and many people know your name and music. Who doesn’t know you and your music? Even adeptis and archons from seven nations know your existence and music— perhaps even Celestial gods know of your existence, but you don’t know that. You’re living the luscious life, showered in attention, Mora, precious gems, and expensive fabrics.

“I wonder if there are people that claim to be my biggest fan,” you mutter.

Emilia places her makeup brush down on the table and looks at you curiously. “I’m sure there are people that do! My niece says that she’s the biggest [Y/N] fan,” Emilia replies, smiling at you.

You crack your eyes open and look at Emilia with interest. “Is that so? Has she been to one of my concerts before?” You ask.

You look at your reflection in the mirror and stand up. You fix and adjust your stage outfit. Each set of your performance has specific clothing made for the set performance. One of your favorite outfits out of all the things you have worn to perform is usually the one that is saved for last. It’s silver and white; you have tinsels in your hair, and the gem in the corner of your eyes would sparkle each time you winked (not really, it was the lighting that made them glimmer).

Emilia nods her head, smiling widely. “She’s currently in the crowd with her mother and father. They’re really excited to watch you perform,” said Emilia.

“Well, I am excited to perform for your niece and her parents,” you said. “I’m ready for my performance now. I’ve been keeping them waiting for way too long,” you brush your hair over your shoulders and turn to Emilia.

Emilia nods her head and watches you leave the dressing room. You’re guided to the lower part of the stage behind the curtains. You’re instructed to stand in the center of the stage trapdoor and were handed the microphone. You can hear loud cheers, screams, and excited chatter from the audience. No matter how many times you have performed, you will always be nervous about how the performance is going to turn out.

“Good luck! You’re going to do great!” Alice squeezes your arms with an encouraging smile.

You let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Alice,” you breathe.

Itto and Gorou shove their way through the crowd of roaring fans; Itto has a large sign in his hands while Gorou is holding onto glowsticks. Gorou mutters a soft “excuse me,” “pardon me,” as he and Itto weave through sweaty people. Once both Itto and Gorou have gotten to the front of the row, Itto sees how close they are to the stage. On the front row in front of the stage, aside from Itto and Gorou, were twenty-three other men standing in front of the stage barrier, waiting for the performance to start.

“[Y/N]’s number one fan? Psh! I doubt it,” Itto hears someone scoff.

Itto turns to the man beside him and sees a ginger-haired Snezhnayan man, also holding up a sign with your name plastered on it. Itto raises his eyebrows at the Snezhnayan man and looks over at the dark brown-haired man beside the ginger.

“Childe, please refrain yourself from starting fights at a concert,” Zhongli mutters, glaring over at the man beside him.

“Yeah, Childe. Why are you upset to see me, [Y/N]’s number one fan, coming out here to support them?” Itto asks, glaring at the ginger-haired male.

Gorou laughs nervously and taps Itto on the shoulders. “Itto, I don’t think we should be getting into fights either. Not only will that get us kicked out, but people around us can also get injured,” Gorou explains.

Childe laughs. “If you’re [Y/N]’s number one fan, then how come you weren’t in the first row throughout the entire performance? This is the first time I have seen you in the first row,” Childe raises his eyebrows at the oni.

Itto narrows his eyes at Childe and eyes Childe from head to toe. Childe has a bandana wrapped around his forehead with your name in the center. A sign in Childe’s grasp has the words, “❤❤ PLEASE MARRY ME [Y/N] ❤❤” written in capitalization in colorful markers. Hearts are scattered around on the white sign, glitter lining the borders of the sign, and your name is big and bold in gold. Itto lets out a scoff, a smirk appearing on his face.

“How desperate and pathetic,” Itto thinks to himself.

Itto turns to look at the stage, watching people prepare for the next performance. Diluc peeks from Kaeya’s shoulders and rolls his eyes when he sees Itto and Childe’s signs. It’s almost laughable in a way, but Diluc shouldn’t be the one to judge since he, himself, has a sign as well.

“Archons, how did we get stuck near those two idiots?” Diluc mutters, rolling his eyes.

Kaeya snickers. “Relax, brother. They won’t start anything other than an argument. We’ve seen them argue on public forms before; it’s normal at this point,” Kaeya says.

“They also snuck their way into the first row. Apparently, Itto weaved his way through the crowd to get in front of the stage barrier,” Albedo says casually, looking at the stage designs and stage lights.

Venti taps Albedo on the shoulders. “Don’t you know [Y/N]’s agent? If so, can you get us all backstage passes to meet the [Y/N]?” Venti asks eagerly.

“I thought we’re already going to meet [Y/N]? Didn’t the front-row tickets get us the chance to have a meet-and-greet with [Y/N]?” Aether asks, unscrewing his water bottle and taking a sip of his water.

“Last time I checked, it says guaranteed. Therefore, we are going to meet [Y/N] backstage after the concert,” Dainsleif says, resting his arm on the steel stage barrier.

“Why after the concert? We’re all going to be smelling like each other’s body odor while sweating at the same time,” Scaramouche grumbles, glaring at the person that accidentally brushed up against him.

“To be honest, I would rather meet [Y/N] after the concert than before the concert because they’ll remember us when they go home,” Heizou says, shrugging his shoulders.

“But we’re going to be sweaty when we meet them,” Tighnari sighs in discontentment, scratching his ears with irritation.

“Hey, we’ll be meeting them after their performance. I’m pretty sure they’re going to be just as sweaty as we are, if not, maybe sweater than us because they’re the one that’s performing,” Thoma shrugs his shoulders, leaning against the steel barrier while waving the glowstick in the air subconsciously.

The lights in the stadium soon dim, causing everyone in the stadium to quiet down. Kazuha taps on Xiao’s shoulders, motioning for him to crack the glowstick for it to illuminate. Xiao searches around on his person for the glowstick, only to realize that he had dropped it somewhere while getting seated in the stadium.

“I seem to have lost it,” Xiao mutters, his eyebrows furrowing while his hands continue to roam around his body, searching for the glowstick.

Kazuha gives Xiao a sympathetic smile. “That’s okay, Xiao! I have a spare glowstick,” Kazuha says, handing Xiao the uncracked glowstick.

A faint smile appears on Xiao’s face as he takes the glowstick from Kazuha’s grasp, quietly thanking the samurai shyly. Xiao cracks the glowstick, and it immediately lights up. The sound of footsteps echos the quiet stadium, and the stage lights shine down on a white box. The crowd stares at the box with anticipation and sees your silhouette rising in the box.

Loud cheers and screams erupt from the audience, colorful stage lights come on, the box you’re in is suddenly knocked down, and you step out onto the stage.

“They’re even prettier in person,” Kaveh whispers to himself, covering his mouth as he watches you start the performance for over one hundred thousand attendees.

“They’re very mesmerizing,” Baizhu says in awe, not taking his eyes off of you.

Al Haitham watches you dance and sing on stage. The way the light shines down on you, trails after your movement, confetti flying in the air and raining down on you and the audience is a sight to see. Your face is on the big screen; you make eye contact with the kamera man and send a wink to the kamera, the gem at the corner of your eyes sparkling.

“Not only are their performances flawless and beautiful, but they are as well,” Al Haitham says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Cyno chuckles beside Al Haitham. “That’s why they’re known as the world-class performer, Al Haitham,” Cyno replies.

With the music blaring, and the audience screaming for your attention each time you walk by them, the men doubt the others would be able to hear them voicing out their thoughts. Every time you walk by the front row close to the men, they would scream as loud as they can and wave their signs, trying to get your attention. Your eyes will sweep over the VIP section of the stadium, smiling and waving at the section. Your music is blasting in the background; you have earplugs in your ears; your stage outfit looks immaculate, and your hair and makeup are flawless as usual.

Wanting to grab your attention, Pantalone pulls out a generous-sized bag of Mora and tosses it on the stage. The bag of Mora lands beside your feet, lightly tapping your foot. You look down at the bag of Mora with wide eyes. You squat down, grab the bag and examine it with wide eyes of disbelief. You look up, searching around for the owner of the bag of Mora.

Pantalone waves his glowstick around, desperately trying to get your attention. You and Pantalone make eye contact; the minute your eyes meet, Pantalone feels his heart race against his chest, heat rushing to his cheeks to the point where his face feels hot under your gaze. You slowly stand and walk towards the section where he’s standing. Seeing you approach their section, the twenty-four other men start to crowd around Pantalone, resulting in him getting pinned against the steel stage barrier.

“Hey, stop pushing, you buffoon!” Dottore hisses, glaring at the men who are desperately trying to get your attention the closer you get to their section.

You walk down the step on the side of the stage with the help of security. You thank the guard and approach the men who are almost breaking through the stage barriers. You stop in front of them and hold the bag of Mora up for them to see.

“Who does this belong to?” You ask into the microphone.

You would ask them without the microphone, but with the screams and number of people hollering your name, reaching out to you to grab your attention (or to even touch you), it was hard to ask them personally.

“It belongs to me, but you can keep it,” Pantalone says, sending a wink in your direction with a charming smile on his face.

While the smile on Pantalone’s face looks like a charming smile, Pantalone is trying his best not to show the pain on his face. After all, he’s being pinned against a steel stage barrier by most of the VIP section. Maybe throwing a bag of Mora on stage to grab your attention wasn’t the best idea he had in mind.

“Keep it? I can’t simply keep someone’s bag of Mora!” You look at Pantalone with wide eyes.

“Hey, if Pantalone says you can keep it, keep it. He already has too many Mora,” Capitano says nonchalantly, smiling underneath his helmet.

You smile at them sheepishly and shake your head. “No, no, no, it’s fine, really!” You said.

You gesture for Pantalone to hold his hand out. Pantalone complies and holds his right hand out in front of him. You place the bag of Mora on his hand, grabbing his fingers and wrapping them around the bag of Mora.

“There!” You said, smiling up at Pantalone, who looked at you with wide eyes, his cheeks bright red.

You slowly release Pantalone’s hands and smile at him. Pantalone gulps and nods shyly, pocketing his bag of Mora.

“Lucky bastard,” Pantalone hears Pierro mutters jokingly.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N]! I love you so much!! Please marry me!” Childe screams at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence.

You hear someone angrily protest, pushing the ginger man away and shoving the sign in front of you. “Don’t listen to him, my love! I’m your biggest fan, and I am more worthy of your love than this idiot!” Itto screams.

“Please notice me, [Y/N]! I collect every single one of your albums!” Aether screams from behind Itto, trying to shove his way toward you.

“Ignore these idiots; I’m your biggest fan and your most loyal fan! These buffoons are nowhere near my level!” Scaramouche hollers, hovering above you and the men below him.

You crane your head up to look at Scaramouche, who smiles down at you and caresses your face in his hands. Out of spite, Xiao smacks Scaramouche’s hands away from your face with a scowl on his face. You chuckle at them and shake your head.

“I’m assuming you,” you gestured to the twenty-five men in front of you, “are the ones I’ll be meeting backstage after the concert?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at them.

The twenty-five men nod their heads, cheeks flustered. They can’t believe it! You’re talking to them! You know that they exist in your world! They’re breathing the same air as you are and are face-to-face with each other! As much as they wanted to keep their cool, seeing you, their biggest idol and celebrity crush, in person is a whole new experience.

You smile at them. “Well, I look forward to meeting all of you after the concert! The security guards will be guiding you all backstage for the meet and greet,” you said.

In a trance, the men nod their heads, watching you walk back up the stage. Fans are tossing stuffed animals and flowers on stage, trying to get your attention after seeing what Pantalone has done. You chuckle and shake your head, looking over in the men’s direction.

“Oh my gosh, they just looked at us,” Heizou gasps, shaking the person beside him while refusing to take his eyes off you.

“We’re the luckiest fans out of everyone in the stadium; it’s official,” Venti says, crossing his arms over his chest with a big smile on his face.

When the concert is coming to an end, you stand in the middle of the stage and sigh sadly. After this concert, you’re not sure when the next show will be. This performance was the final concert of the tour all over Teyvat, and you did not want the moment to end. You have been touring all over Teyvat to perform in seven different regions. The final concert is held at a huge stadium that is built specifically for your concert alone. That stadium is located on an island outside of Mondstadt and Liyue but a few minutes out of Inazuma.

Because the concert is the final show of the current tour, many people from all over Teyvat traveled to this island just to see you perform. Even if it’s for one night, people are willing to travel far to see you perform your last concert until your next tour, which hasn’t been in the talks yet. The only thing your fans know, so far, is that you’re going to be releasing a new album soon and that you’re going to be making appearances on many shows.

“I don’t want this concert to end,” you sigh sadly into the microphone, sitting in the center of the stage. “I don’t want the fun to end, nor do I want to see you all leave,” you frown.

Loud cries and whines echo throughout the stadium, the fans expressing the same emotions as you. They didn’t want the concert to end and didn’t want to see you go down in the stage trapdoor, leaving them for who knows how long.

“I’ll be back soon, I promise,” You reassure the audience with a small smile, “I’m releasing a new album soon. Will you all listen to the new songs when they’re released?”

The audience screams, making you laugh and slowly stand up. You stretch your arms and sigh, walking over to the wooden stool, picking up a towel, and wiping your sweat. You have been performing for almost two hours, and now it’s time for you to wrap up the concert. You have a fan meet to do after, and you want to freshen up a little bit before meeting your VIP fans.

You said your goodbye while standing on the stage trapdoor, waving to the fans as the platform below you descended. You’re ushered to the dressing room to freshen up for the meet and greet with the twenty-five VIP fans you have spoken to before the concert ends. Emilia fixes your makeup while Yue restyles your hair, making sure the flyaway hairs and your baby hairs are flat on your head and not all over the place.

“You’re phenomenal, as always,” Emilia says, lightly squeezing your shoulders.

You smile at Emilia. “Thank you, Emilia. What do your niece and her parents think of the concert?” You ask, closing your eyes and letting Emilia lightly brush your under-eye with powder.

“They enjoyed your concert as usual,” Emilia grins.

You smile and press your lips into a thin line, trying your best to remain still while Emilia fixes your makeup to make you look put together. The concert is successful, as always. You’re glad that nothing went haywire on the last show.

“Are you excited to meet your fans? I saw you interacting with them before the concert ended,” Yue murmurs, putting more tinsel in your hair and brushing your hair.

You chuckle and nod your head, cracking your eyes open to look at Yue and Emilia. “I’m pretty excited to meet them! It’s nice chatting with them towards the end of the concert, but with everything going on, it was hard to hear what they’re saying,” you reply.

“Too many people trying to interact with you at once, or was it something else?” Yue asks.

You hum and lean back in the chair, reaching for the hand fan to fan yourself. You purse your lips and think for a moment.

“Yes, that would be one of the reasons. They were all piling up against this black-haired man with glasses, practically squishing him against the stage barrier,” you chuckle. “I feel bad for that happening, and I’m hoping to interact with all of them without any of them getting hurt or squished by the other,” you add.

“I don’t know, [Y/N]. Your fanboys…. They have familiar faces,” Emilia chuckles, applying lip balm on your lips. “A few of them are Fatui Harbingers, and others are diplomats or archons! Overall, these men are important figures of some sort,” Emilia says, gazing at you with wide eyes.

“Important figures as [Y/N]’s biggest fanboys!? Wow! You’re truly amazing, [Y/N]!” Yue squeals, jumping behind you with glee. “Would you, perhaps, date any of them?” Yue teases, wiggling her eyebrows at you cheekily.

You feel your face heat up at Yue’s question. You? Dating a fan? Does she not realize how scandalous that is? You turn to Yue and lightly bat at her arm.

“Yue! Me dating a fan is scandalous! Do you know how upset people will be if I start dating a fan of mine?” You ask, looking at the Liyuen woman with wide eyes.

Yue pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh, come on, [Y/N]! You can’t be single forever! Plus, there are not many famous male idols in Teyvat. You usually see women that are given this sort of attention compared to the men,” Yue says.

You purse your lips and shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, Yue. I don’t think about dating much because of how busy I am with my career as an idol. Not only that, but I don’t want my significant other to deal with hate and tabloids,” you sigh, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

Emilia pats your head. “That’s fair, but you can’t be single forever. Especially when you have attractive fanboys,” Emilia jokes, poking you in the ribs lightly.

“How can you see their faces clearly when colorful lights were strobing in the stadium?” You ask.

“We ran into your fanboys before the concert began. You weren’t at the stadium yet. You were on your way here, and these men were searching around for a restroom, and maybe they were hoping to run into you, but they ran into us instead,” Yue explains, snickering to herself.

You chuckle and shake your head. The more you think about the fanboys you interact with during the concert, the more you become intrigued with them. Not going to lie; you’re kind of nervous about meeting them backstage. While they admire you and the things you do, you hope that the interaction wouldn’t make them like you any less.

To put it into perspective, you’re not much of a social person, and having to interact with almost thirty people after a huge performance is a bit nerve-wracking. Ironic, right? You performed in front of thousands of people, and yet you find interacting with twenty-ish people personally is more intimidating than performing in front of thousands of people. Maybe it’s because of your past interaction with a celebrity, but you don’t want your fanboys to be disappointed to see that you’re not the perfect idol they see on billboards, posters, TV shows, album covers, and magazines.

“And we’re done!” You hear Emilia say.

You blink and realize that Emilia and Yue are finished helping you freshen up. You get up from your seat and stretch your arms in the air, groaning. After this meet and greet, you’re going straight to the showers, and you’re going to take a nap right after.

“So, do I just wait here while the security guards assist the VIP fans to the meet and greet room?” You ask, grabbing the water bottle from the vanity.

Yue shrugs her shoulders. “You’ve been in the dressing room for a while. I’m pretty sure your fanboys are already in the meet-and-greet room,” Yue says, packing up the tools and cleaning the station around her.

“Aw man, I hope I didn’t keep them waiting for too long,” you mutter.

You quickly bid the two women goodbyes before walking out of the dressing room. When you step out of the dressing room, you see Alice and a security guard waiting for you outside of the dressing room. You give the two a brief smile before letting them know that you’re ready to meet the VIP fans.

While you, Alice, and the security guards were on your way to the room where the meet and greet was being held, the room was filled with chatter. Very loud conversations from your twenty-five fanboys.

“Take that off. You look ridiculous!” Diluc sighs, shaking his head at Kaeya.

Kaeya snorts. “Oh, please, brother. You’re wearing the same shirt as I am. Although, white doesn’t suit you at all,” Kaeya says, looking down at the shirt Diluc is wearing.

“Who designed all of [Y/N] concert merchandise? I want to speak to them and give them some advice on how to properly design merchandise without making it look tacky,” Ayato says, holding your concert t-shirt up with a neutral expression.

Thoma clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest, covering the concert t-shirt he’s wearing with his arms. “I agree with you, my Lord. Although, I believe the person should be fired instead, and a new merchandise designer should be hired,” Thoma says, scratching the apples of his cheeks awkwardly.

Kaveh sighs dramatically. “As much as I love [Y/N] and their flawlessness, I believe that their only flaw is hiring the designer,” Kaveh laments, tossing the t-shirt back on the pile of shirts on the table.

“Yeah, of course, you do. You say that while having another t-shirt stuffed in your back pocket,” Al Haitham snorts.

Al Haitham reaches behind Kaveh, yanks the shirt from Kaveh’s pants pocket, and waves it in front of the blond man with an eyebrow raised, the corner of his lips quirking up with amusement. Kaveh gapes at Al Haitham and begins to stutter out excuses.

Tighnari pats Kaveh’s back with a smile. “It’s okay if you like the shirt, Kaveh. People have different tastes in clothing. You don’t have to follow the crowd in hating the design of the merchandise,” Tighnari says.

“Exactly. I don’t understand why people would follow along with what others think. If you like something, then you like it. Don’t pretend to dislike something only because a group of people doesn’t like what you do,” Cyno says, walking up to Kaveh, Tighnari, and Al Haitham while wearing your concert merchandise.

Baizhu lets out a chuckle and props his hands on his hips. “I see that you’re trying to show others that you’re [Y/N]’s biggest fan,” said Baizhu, looking at Cyno from head to toe.

“I disagree. I’m [Y/N]’s biggest fan,” Gorou says, walking over to the group with various concert merchandise in his hands.

Kazuha pokes Gorou’s back. “I think you should get a bag for [Y/N]’s concert merchandise. We wouldn’t want you to drop them on your way out,” said Kazuha.

“How much longer do we have to wait?” Xiao mutters, leaning on the edge of the merchandise table to stretch his aching legs out.

Dainsleif hums. “They can take as long as they like. They did perform for almost two hours and have to tolerate everyone crowding the barrier to talk to them,” Dainsleif says nonchalantly.

“And by crowding the barrier, you mean crushing me against the steel stage barrier because [Y/N] looked in my direction and talked to me,” Pantalone huffs, rubbing his lower abdomen where the steel barrier dug into while the twenty-four other men crowded around him just to get your attention.

Albedo shrugs his shoulders. “You sort of did that to yourself, Pantalone,” Albedo says.

Dottore snickers behind his hands before nudging Pantalone with his elbow. “He’s not wrong there, Pantalone. You tried to find a way to get [Y/N]’s attention, and you were successful! However, every action has consequences,” Dottore smirks.

“I don’t want to alarm anyone, but it seems like [Y/N] is about to make an appearance very soon,” Zhongli speaks up.

Everyone turns to look at Zhongli quizzically. Zhongli sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before gesturing towards the entrance of the room. Everyone in the room falls silent; they can hear three pairs of footsteps approaching the room where the meet and greet is being held. Not only can they hear footsteps getting closer to the room, but the voices are getting louder the closer the footsteps get.

“They’re in this room, right?” The group of men hears you ask.

“Yes, the meet and greet are being held in this room!” They hear a woman say eagerly.

The door is opened by the security guard. The security guard makes eye contact with each man and nods his head before turning around to gesture for you to enter the room. The men in the room panic and begin to fix their clothes, making sure they look presentable. You walk into the room and smile at the men in front of you.

“Hello! It’s great to see you all again after the concert! Our interaction was cut short due to the concert and the concert coming to an end. I hope I’ll be able to talk with each of you without any interruptions,” you joyfully said, clasping your hands together in front of you.

Pierro smiles at you and bows at you, his right hand placed over his chest. “It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]. Your performance is flawless and enchanting, as always. I’m honored to be able to watch you perform live,” Pierro says, straightening his posture.

You giggle and tuck your hair behind your ears. Your little gesture made the others subtly raise their eyebrows, jealousy beginning to simmer inside of them.

“I’m glad you enjoyed the concert! It makes me incredibly happy to know that people enjoy the performance!” You said, smiling at Pierro.

“You needn’t worry about what people think of your performance. You’re a world-class performer, a very respected idol, and a huge inspiration and role model for all,” Capitano says gruffly.

You cover both of your flushed cheeks with your hands. “Oh, stop! You’re making me blush!” You said, covering your face.

Archons, can you get any cuter? You’re so cute! The way you cover your cheeks with your hands to hide the blush on your cheeks, you try to keep your professional facade while treating them like an acquaintance. However, they wish it was more than a fan and idol interaction); you speak to them casually instead of the conversation being tense and awkward.

“If you don’t mind me asking, have you eaten anything yet?” Zhongli asks.

You shake your head. “Not yet! But I will be getting something to eat after the meet and greet! Although I’m not sure where I’ll be going,” you trailed off, pinching the fat of your chin with your lips puckered.

“You don’t have to worry about that, [Y/N]. Mister Zhongli over here is generous enough to send a food stall to your concert for you personally. As the creator and founder of the biggest [Y/N] Fanclub of all of Teyvat, Zhongli is the one that sends the gifts, food stalls, and does many things for you and the fans,” Childe says, patting the funeral consultant’s shoulders with a big smile on his face.

Aether looks at Zhongli with wide eyes and points at Zhongli with an accusing finger. “You’re Interstellar Idol!? The one that is at every single fan event that is hosted for [Y/N]!?” Aether exclaims in disbelief.

“He’s also the one that goes all out when it comes to [Y/N],” Heizou whispers, staring at the flustered ex-Archon with wide eyes.

Itto raises his hand in the air. “Hold up! I thought he was broke! Like, borrowing other people’s Mora and never paying them back kind of broke,” Itto says, fiddling with his thumbs while looking at Zhongli skeptically.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes. “He’s not broke, Itto. Zhongli just forgets to bring his wallet,” Al Haitham corrects Itto, crossing his arms over his chest.

“As if that’s any better,” Kaveh mutters under his breath.

You stare at Zhongli with your mouth agape before making your way to the flustered archon. You stand in front of Zhongli, pointing at him. “You’re running my biggest Fanclub, did you know that?” You whisper.

Zhongli clears his throat and nods his head shyly, cheeks pink, the tips of his ears just as pink as the apples of his cheeks. You’re very familiar with the Fanclub called Interstellar Idol; they’re your biggest fanbase of all Teyvat. How can you not know them? They’re at every milestone of yours and have been at your side since the beginning of your career as an idol. If it weren’t for the Fanclub, Interstellar Idol, you wouldn’t be as known as you are now.

“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” You whisper shyly.

Zhongli looks at you with wide eyes before slowly nodding his head. A big smile appears on your face, and you hug Zhongli, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Thank you for being there with me every step of my career. I appreciate the support, and I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you and the Fanclub, Interstellar Idol,” you murmur, looking up at Zhongli.

“Hey! I want my hug, tooooo!” Venti whines, stomping his foot on the ground playfully.

You pull away from the hug and laugh. “Alright, I’ll give each of you a hug or a handshake. It’s your choice! Then if any of you want to take a picture, or want anything signed, let me know after!” You said.

“Just to let you know, Zhongli may be the creator and founder of your biggest Fanclub; all of us,” Thoma gestures to the other men in the room, including himself, “are also well-known [Y/N] fanboys,” Thoma says proudly.

You prop your hands on your hips. “Is that so?” You ask, looking at them curiously. “Care to tell me what each of you does as fans of mine? I’m quite curious,” You said, tilting your head to the side.

Diluc clears his throat loudly. “Let’s discuss this later,” Diluc interjects, looking away with red blossoming on his cheeks.

Kaeya leans toward you while pointing his thumb at Diluc. “Diluc collects your albums and posters. However, he doesn’t have as many as I do,” Kaeya snickers behind his hands.

Diluc narrows his eyes at Kaeya and grabs him by the shirt collar, pulling him back. Kaeya looks over at Diluc with a smug smile on his face. Diluc’s face was almost as red as his hair after Kaeya exposed Diluc’s secret hobby to you, the biggest idol of Teyvat and their celebrity crush.

“You didn’t hear this from me, but Cyno writes fanfictions about you. His stories are very popular throughout Teyvat,” Tighnari whispers to you.

Cyno looks over at Tighnari, his eyes wide. “What did you say?” Cyno demands, stomping over to you and Tighnari.

“Oh, Cyno. There’s no shame in writing fanfictions! I used to write them myself as well,” you reassure General Mahamatra with a smile on your face.

Ayato looks at you with interest. “And who did you write about?” Ayato asks, raising an eyebrow at you in a teasing manner.

You gaped at Ayato and cleared your throat, rubbing the back of your neck and looking away from the Kamisato heir. There’s no way you’re going to expose yourself even more when you have already revealed your “secret” to the men in front of you.

“As you said earlier, there’s no shame in writing fanfictions!” Baizhu sing-song, smiling at you innocently.

You pucker your lips and shake your head. “We’re not close enough for me to expose my secrets even more,” you joke.

Dottore slides his arm over your shoulders. “I’m sure by the end of the meet and greet; we’ll be closer than ever for you to tell us who you wrote fanfictions of,” Dottore chuckles, smiling down at you.

You squint your eyes at Dottore and look at the other men. “We’ll see about that,” you stroke your chin.

You walk over to Xiao, who’s quietly observing you with curiosity. Despite being a massive idol in Teyvat, you’re still humble, and you interact with your fans like ordinary people instead of putting up a wall between you and your fans. You’re grateful for all of the support you have been receiving since day one of your career as an idol, and you continue to be thankful for your fans, your manager, and everyone around you that made your career happen.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, pulling Xiao from his thoughts.

Xiao blinks at you and clears his throat, the apples of his cheeks turning bright pink. “It’s nothing,” Xiao says.

You look at him curiously. “If it’s nothing, then how come you weren’t answering me when I called your name a couple of times?” You tease.

Xiao clears his throat, his face turning bright red. “You know my name?” Xiao asks, his eyes almost as wide as dinner plates.

“We told them your name,” said Gorou, giving Xiao a small smile.

Scaramouche sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t mind him. This is his first time going to your concert, and I think his mind is still trapped at the concert,” Scaramouche comments, a small smirk appearing on his face.

Kazuha shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, you can’t blame him for that. [Y/N]’s concerts are always mesmerizing and memorable,” Kazuha says, patting Xiao’s back.

Xiao hesitates for a moment, his face turning a darker shade of red. How is he going to talk to you when he can’t get the words out of his mouth? Xiao feels like he’s running out of time with you, and he wants to cherish every moment with you before having to deal with reality again. The reality of having to deal with his karmic debt, the reality of having to watch over Liyue, the reality of you being so far from him performing all over the world while he’s stuck in Liyue. Your music and your presence ease his mind and worries. Zhongli looks over at Xiao, a faint smile appearing on his face. He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head.

“He’s a big fan of yours,” Zhongli says, placing his hand on Xiao’s shoulders.

Xiao’s face continues to grow hot; he nods and scratches the back of his neck shyly. You smile and press both of your hands over your heart.

“It makes me really happy to hear that you’re a fan of mine, Xiao! With every love and support I receive from my fans, I really do appreciate it. I appreciate each of you,” You said.

Alice walks up to you and stands beside you, locking gazes with Albedo. She smiles at him and nods to him. “Hello, Albedo! How are you doing, sweetheart? What do you think of [Y/N]’s concert?” Alice asks.

A small smile appears on Albedo’s face. “Hello, Alice. I’m doing well! I really enjoyed [Y/N]’s performance. Seeing them perform in person makes me realize why they earned the title ‘world-class performer,’” Albedo says.

Dainsleif nudges Albedo. “You know [Y/N]’s agent?” He mutters to the light blond-haired male.

Albedo nods his head. “You can say that she is a family member of mine. However, I see Klee, Alice’s daughter, as a little sister of mine. Alice insisted that I call her mother,” Albedo briefly explains.

Pantalone lets out a thoughtful hum. “Then that means you know [Y/N] before their career?” Pantalone asks.

“We’ve met a few times, but we barely spoke to each other because of how busy the chief alchemist is,” you answer. “It’s nice to see you again, Albedo. Thank you for coming to my concert. Your support means a lot to me,” you said.

Albedo gives you a shy smile and looks away, his face almost as red as Xiao’s face. You laugh to yourself before turning to the next person beside Albedo. Itto, who is wearing all of your concert merchandise with the sign in his hands and a bandana with your name on it wrapped around his forehead. When you make eye contact with Itto, Itto looks like he’s about to pass out right on the spot.

“I’m assuming you’re my biggest fan?” You ask.

Itto nods his head, gulping. “I love your music so much. I have posters of you all over my wall, I collect every album you have released, along with magazines you’re on the cover of, and I try to go as many fan meets as I can along with your concert,” Itto rambles.

Childe snorts and leans toward Zhongli. “Simp,” Childe mutters.

Zhongli rolls his eyes. “As if none of us are that as well,” Zhongli mutters to the ginger-haired Harbinger, nudging Childe.

“So, are you implying that Itto is a bigger [Y/N] fan than you?” Dainsleif asks, raising an eyebrow at Childe.

“Of course not! [Y/N] knows that I’m their biggest fan because I show up to every meet and greet they host throughout Teyvat! I also go to every single one of their concerts if I get the chance to go!” Childe huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Diluc rolls his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that,” Diluc snorts.

“If you’re confused, Diluc is implying that he’s a bigger fan of [Y/N] than you are,” Kaeya says, pointing his thumb over at Diluc.

Venti laughs and pops up between Kaeya and Diluc. “You may be a big fan of [Y/N], but do any of you make covers of their music? I don’t think so!” Venti huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Covering a song? What does that mean?” Ayato asks Thoma.

“Venti sings [Y/N]’s songs and posts them for people to see. I believe that Venti has a lot of views on each cover he has posted,” Thoma explains.

Venti props his hands on his hips with a proud smile on his face. Itto hands you a pen with shaky hands, asking you to sign the album he has brought with him. Itto would have you sign every album he has owned, but it would be too many, and Itto doesn’t think he can carry it all with him even if he makes Gorou assist him. You grab the pen from Itto’s grasp and begin signing the album. Your handwriting is elegant and legible; seeing you sign the album in front of his own eyes is a memory he will cherish forever. Speaking of cherishing memories, Itto quickly pulls his Kamera out from his bag and takes a quick picture of you signing the album.

“Itto! You just can’t take pictures of [Y/N] while they’re signing your album!” Gorou hisses, smacking Itto’s biceps.

“It’s okay! I don’t mind getting my pictures taken. After all, I am used to it,” you said, smiling at Gorou.

Gorou feels his face turn hot the minute you smile at him. Gorou covers the lower part of his face with his hand and looks away, his tail giving him away. You finish up signing Itto’s album and begin signing Itto’s sign that he brought to the concert. When he receives your signed album and his sign with your autograph on it, Itto squeals loudly and tackles you into a hug while blabbering about how much he loves you and how you make him so happy.

“Hey! Let’s not tackle [Y/N] into a bone-crushing hug now, Itto!” Baizhu says, laughing nervously as he tries to get Itto off of you.

Aether snorts. “Listen, Itto may have the abs, but he doesn’t have the biceps to crush [Y/N] and their bones,” Aether says, poking at Itto’s arms.

“I call dibs standing next to [Y/N] when we take group pictures!” Heizou announces, raising his hand in the air with a triumphant smile.

Kaveh lets out a loud scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t call dibs! It’s not fair for the rest of us!” Kaveh protests, glaring at Heizou.

“Yeah, Heizou. If you were to call dibs on standing beside [Y/N] in the pictures, it wouldn’t be fair for the rest of us,” Al Haitham says.

You chuckle and walk over to the center of the meet-and-greet room after Itto has released you from his hug. You watch the men debate on who should stand next to you (spoiler: all of them said themselves). In the end, you end up taking a bunch of group pictures because each man wanted to stand beside you in the picture, which you didn’t mind at all! They’re all hilarious and sweet about it, plus you didn’t really have anything else planned after the meet and greet other than get something to eat.

“I’m going to cherish this picture forever,” Tighnari says, staring at the film in his hands with a faint smile.

You feel your stomach growl; now that you think about it, Zhongli did say something about renting a food stall for you after the concert. Perhaps you can invite them to keep you company while you eat. Maybe they can get something to eat, too, since you’re unsure if they had anything to eat prior to the concert.

Before you can ask the men if they want to join you, you walk over to Alice and the security guard. You need Alice’s thoughts (and permission) first before inviting the men. Alice gives you a thumbs up, making you sigh in relief. You walk over to the men, who are still bickering over who should’ve been the first one to stand next to you in the group picture.

You tap on Cyno’s shoulders, grabbing the white-haired man’s attention.

“Do you guys want to join me at the food stall? I’m about to get something to eat, and I would like all of you to join me. If you’re hungry, you can get something to eat at the food stall, and if not, you can just hang out and chat with each other,” you said.

“I would love to!” Cyno says, smiling at you.

“We would love to keep you company,” Pierro says, nodding.

“I’m starting to feel famished, so why not?” said Scaramouche.

Kazuha holds his arm out for you to take. “Shall we go and get something to eat at the food stall?” Kazuha asks.

You link your arms with his and nod. “We shall.”

“Hey! I want to lock arms with them too!” You hear Childe whine.

You hear Capitano scoff. “Quit your whining, and let’s get something to eat,” Capitano says, looking at Childe.

You all walk to the back entrance of the stadium venue. Outside is a long line of food stalls rented by Zhongli for you to eat after the performance. There was so much food to choose from, and you’re not sure where to start!

“Zhongli, you’re a godsend,” you said, walking to the nearest food stall with excitement.

“It’s funny because he’s actually the Geo arch— Oof!” Childe groans when Zhongli elbows him in the gut with a straight face.

“I believe we should get food now,” Zhongli states nonchalantly, shooting a look over in Childe’s direction.

Childe pouts and nods his head before trailing after Zhongli while the others go to grab food from the stalls to eat. Usually, this isn’t how your meet and greets end, but a little change is nice sometimes. Who knew your career would take off so fast and land you in this situation, surrounded by your fanboys while eating food in each other’s company?

Note: I have another AU coming out next week! I have no idea why I've been getting a lot of AU ideas, but I think the upcoming AU should be the last one for now. Other than AUs, I do have some ideas for mini-fics as well and I'm really hoping I can type them out and get them posted. I've been busy with school and my winter schedule has been keeping me out of my house for hours until early evening 😵‍💫 This next part is copied and pasted; For those who want to be on my new taglist, here is the link to the taglist [Genshinluvr Updated Taglist Form]! Please make sure that you allow people to mention you/tag you in posts, or else I won't be able to tag you in any future fanfics! And as usual, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @alhaitham-scribe, @xyji, @kazuhasmuse, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @kwelibeeery, @yumakj, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @honeybedo, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @living-my-best-life5, @chalksdreams, @rinswriting, @thelost-in-time, @mxn14, @ventisweetheart, @unwantedsleep, @kattythesimp, @hispasian-otaku, @Orah-s, @juuuuuj101010, @nxns3nse, @sickly-falling, @alteeeeyang, @wind1y, @wh0-ta0, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @HistoryNerd™️, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado (If your name has been crossed out, it means that your account did not show up when I try to tag your account. Please make sure to allow people to mention you and tag you in posts and make sure the spelling, symbols, and numbers are correct)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

1K notes · View notes

froggyfics · 7 months

Text

The Deadliest Poisons Are The Sweetest - 6

Conflict arises within the Al Ghul household.

18+ only! I do not consent for this content to be viewed by minors. Please take heed of the warnings listed, though they are not entirely comprehensive. Do not continue reading if you are uncomfortable with the content. This story and its contents are 100% fictional, and are not affiliated with DC Comics.

Sincerely appreciate you guys for leaving comments and messages about my writing! Your interactions definitely push me to complete my work. Thank you for your patience.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Pairing: LOA!medieval!Damian Wayne x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,780

Warnings: misogyny?, smut, p in v penetration, oral sex

The Wayne Manor, in all its glory, is quite ordinary.

Yes, it is perhaps the most magnificent building in all of Gotham – but if you look closely enough, there are little quirks that can only be seen in homes that have been lived in.

Little chips on the doorframe showed its perpetual use. The floorboards creaked due to constant footsteps. The stained windows were discolored to divulge their age.

The manor gave off a completely different aura when compared to the Al Ghul Castle. The castle was built primarily for defense purposes and was not meant to be lived in. Its bloody history was obvious with its moat, drawbridges, and arrow slits.

Maybe that’s why you instantly felt more at ease at the manor. This was a home. It had no nefarious purpose. Even if the castle was purged of its malignant occupants (namely Talia), it could not erase its bloody history.

With that being said, you could not say that you were completely comfortable at the manor.

“How can I make you feel more at home?” Alfred inquires.

You’re not entirely sure how to answer his question. Maybe he could send word for your family to come to the manor instead of staying at the castle.

You push the idea to the back of your mind almost immediately after thinking it. Your family hasn’t really been acting like your kin since you’ve arrived in the capital. They’re simply too busy schmoozing to notice your plight. After all, you are their ticket to the upper echelon. Damian had you leave the castle so hurriedly that you did not even have the chance to seek them out to say farewell. You doubt they’d care about your absence anyways.

“Where’s Damian?”

“He’s still speaking with his father. I can have him come to your room as soon as he finishes his discussion.”

“Yes, that would be wonderful.”

Alfred bows before exiting the room. “Your highness.”

You let out a melancholic sigh while plopping on your bed. The absolute silence that surrounds you deafens your ears. The peacefulness reminds you that this is the first time in a long time that you had to yourself.

Your ladies-in-waiting are out familiarizing themselves with the manor. Rachel returned to her own home, promising to follow you to manor after she packed her own belongings. Alice, your personal servant, is acquainting herself with the servants’ quarters.

Talia is not breathing down your neck. Your mother is no longer nit-picking at your appearance. Your father is not here to remind you of your dimwittedness. Your older brother is not hounding you to convince your in-laws to give him a council seat.

It's just you. After so much time surrounded by others, wishing for some alone time, you’re suddenly dumbfounded. How were you able to entertain yourself before him – before Damian?

The embroidery hoop sits longingly in your open chest. Your needlework was in sore need of improvement you realized after moving to Gotham. After all, the noblewoman here had no household chores to take up their time, thereby leaving them experts at embroidery.

You sit down on a sturdy wooden chair. It’s easy for you to distract yourself in the work that you’re doing. All that there is to distract you are the crackling of the candles and the occasional prick of the needle.

You nearly fall out of the chair in terror when the door opens suddenly. Your ladies-in-waiting come barging in, talking amongst themselves merrily until they notice you. Their faces sour.

“C’mere, your highness,” Matilda sneers. “Time for bed.”

A sigh escapes your lips before you can control it. Surely, you cannot be treated this way! After all, you’re a princess now!

Alas, you scurry to Matilda and turn your back towards her. Of course, you can wish for a spine all you’d like, but you’d never stand up to her. Or to Honora. Or Joan. Or Talia. You’re…you. A princess, but you were born among the lowest of aristocrats. Just a generation prior, your family were peasants! Matilda, Joan, and Honora all came from distinguished dynasties that far surpassed your own.

“Ouch!” You tried with all your might to keep quiet while Matilda yanks you about, but when her nails scratch against your back, you can’t help but let out a screech.

“Oh, hush now!”

“You’re – hurting me.”

Matilda remains quiet and you step out of your dress after it pools at your feet. The fireplace keeps the room warm, but the hostility in the air increases the temperature. She tugs the nightgown over your head rudely.

“I suppose I’ll stay the night with the princess.” Honora points to the feather mattress near the bed.

Matilda and Joan nod their heads and curtsy towards you.

“Now, is there anything else you’d like for us to do before we retire for the night, your highness?” Joan’s voice is sickly sweet, but at this point, you know her words are laced with venom.

“No, thank you. You are dismissed. Have a nice night.”

They snicker in each other’s ears and walk towards the door, while Honora looks longingly at them. Joan opens the bedroom door and gasps at the sight.

“Your highness!”

Damian leisurely strides into the room with his hands behind his back like a soldier. The occupants of the room immediately bow in respect, including you.

So much time had passed from when you told Alfred to call for Damian, that you didn’t think he’d actually come to see you. But here he was! In your room. You didn’t even know what you wanted to say to him. You didn’t remember why you asked Alfred to send Damian to you in the first place.

He clears his throat and looks around the room. His gaze lands on your discarded embroidery hoop atop your dresser. He picks it up to examine the half-finished red carnation on the fabric. Your entire body heats up in embarrassment. In your lonely haze, you barely recalled poking the red and green thread through the linen fabric. It meant nothing. Damian catches your gaze, and you hope to communicate silently that it meant nothing to you. Boredom took over and flowers were a common item to embroider. It meant nothing. You weren’t thinking about him then, and you certainly didn’t care that he was standing in front of you now.

“You lot are dismissed for now.”

The ladies scamper out of the room immediately as Damian’s command leaves his lips. No back talk. No snide comment. If only they respected you half as much as they respected him, your day-to-day life would become so much smoother.

“Alfred mentioned that you called upon me.”

Your eye twitches. “Only to say goodnight.” You stare at him until it becomes uncomfortable. “So, goodnight.”

You turn around to get under the warmth of your covers. You pull the coverlet and bedsheet out as calmly as you can, even though a combination of anger and embarrassment courses through you.

You want to lie back down fully, but Damian remains standing in place.

“Can you please call my lady-in-waiting in here?”

“No.”

“No?” you scoff. “Why not?”

“We’re having a conversation, that’s why.”

“No, we’re not,” you huff. “I have had quite a tumultuous day. If you’ll excuse me, I will retire for the night.”

“You are angry with me.”

You scowl, but say nothing in return. You are angry. In fact, you are irate. Your marriage has just begun, and you already want to escape.

“I’ve spoken with my father,” Damian interrupts the silence. “We will be staying here, at Wayne Manor. The castle is not the place for us.”

He exhales loudly when you do not respond. You are looking down at your coverlet, but can sense his movements closing in on you. He tediously sits on the farthest possible corner of the bed.

You shake your head in disbelief and face him with a glare on your face. “I do not bite, your highness, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

His smile momentarily catches you off-guard, but his chuckles reignite your anger. “You look like you will,” he responds once he notices your fury. His attempt at easing the tension does not work.

“I truly apologize for what my mother said to you. It was not…appropriate to say the least. Here at the manor, I can assure you that no one will question our marital bed like she did.”

“Tell that to my ladies-in-waiting. You do know that they are your mother’s spies, right? They’ll report everything to her.”

He shrugs. “I have been known to keep a loyal household.” He winks at you. “I have my ways.”

You simply can’t stand it. He’s being so…friendly. It irks you.

“Thank you, your highness. T’is late. I will not keep you up.”

Your attempt to dismiss Damian is ignored. He tuts and closes the distance between you two. His new position is right at your side. His thigh touches your own, with just sheets of fabric separating the two of you.

“You’re angry with me,” he repeats.

“What’s it to you?” You do your best to keep your voice steady. “It’s not like you care.”

“Of course, I do. Of course, I care.”

A humorless laugh escapes your throat. “I’m not stupid. I have not grown up with your fancy tutors or privileged background, but I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were stu –”

“You don’t have to say it for me to know that you and everyone else think it!” you nearly shout. “Your highness –”

“We’ve been over this.” He rubs his forehead. “You are my wife. Refer to me as husband or Damian –”

“I am not your wife!” It’s unintentional, but some of your spit lands on his face. You fight to get the covers off of you, jumping out of bed. You can only stomp a few steps away from Damian before his arm grabs your bicep.

You’re pulled back towards him and he swivels you around to face him once again.

“I am not your wife!” you repeat.

“What are you going on about, woman?” His own anger is evident due to the bulging vein on his neck. “Have you hit your head and lost your memory already?”

You speak through gritted teeth. “Your highness, I am not sure why you have roped me into your lies, but clearly there is another motive behind our so-called marriage.” You rip yourself from his hands, and point at him menacingly. “I don’t think I care to know why you have lied to me, but just know I’m onto you. You cannot deceive me. I know that we are in a sham marriage.”

Damian’s eyes nearly transform to coal black, the green is no longer visible. You slowly drop your accusatory finger, mentally kicking yourself for your tantrum. His disposition is quite fearsome, you realize. You were admittedly terrified of Prince Damian, who comes from a long line of terrifying and tyrannical ancestors.

“Careful there, woman,” he taunts. “You are speaking to your prince.”

“I thought you were just my husband,” you sneer before you realize what you said. You clamp your mouth shut.

His eyes narrow dangerously. “Same difference. Do you need reminding?”

Well, now you’ve done it. You were going to be beheaded come sunrise, weren’t you? Why couldn’t you have just shut up? Why did you have to believe the lies he said in the garden? Who cares, he’s a man – they all lie. What difference does it make that your man joins in the age-old tradition of lying?

Damian waits expectantly for some sort of response from you, while your mind races.

“No…husband.”

Damian smiles, but you can tell it’s the coldblooded kind. He takes one step, then another, and then one more until he’s toe-to-toe with you.

You look up meekly at your prince. He towers over you and it dawns on you just how precarious your situation is. It has been just a day since you’ve married. The marriage could easily be annulled, especially at Damian’s behest. You are replaceable. There are countless others you would kill to be the heir’s wife.

And who could replace Damian? Quite literally, no one. Your family would forever be disgraced. No one would want to interact with the family of the heir’s former wife. It would be an embarrassment. Not to mention, you would forever be the laughingstock of the kingdom. The day-old princess.

He cups your face, and his thumbs brush your hot cheeks. His other fingers grip the back of your neck, nearly painfully so. “Well, I think you do.”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when he plants his lips on your forehead. They travel to your nose before one hand shifts the collar of your nightgown.

“Admittedly, t’is my fault.” He suckles the tender skin at the base of your neck. “I have not truly turned you into a wife yet.” The implications of his words make you shiver, along with the wet kisses he leaves up and down your neck. His actions leave you in shock. This was not the way you expected to be…punished? Reprimanded? You’re not sure what exactly Damian is planning.

He kisses the pulsing point in your neck and the sensitivity nearly makes your moan. You bite your lip in retaliation, but of course, he notices it.

You want to retort, but his thumb rubs against your nipple. You breathe out heavily as he continues his ministrations, your fiery attitude withers away as your nipple hardens under his touch.

His hands slowly make their way to your hips and he grabs them firmly to guide you in the direction of the bed.

You yelp when he pushes you onto the bed roughly, nearly landing completely on your back, but you catch yourself by your arms. You watch in utter curiosity as Damian rolls your nightgown over your knees, exposing you the warm chill of the room. He bites his lip lewdly and sinks to his knees.

You yelp again when he pulls you closer to the edge by the ankles.

“You can watch if you want.” He gives you wet kisses from your ankle till your inner thigh. When he reaches your thigh, you attempt to close your legs around his head. It’s simply too sensitive.

He pushes your knees apart and begins the cycle again on the other leg. This time, when he reaches your inner thigh, he takes hold of your legs and spreads them as far apart as he can.

You squirm and squirm as he continues kissing your inner thighs.

“Damian,” you whimper.

“The lioness suddenly cannot seem to roar, only mewl,” he teases.

You can feel his hot breath on your innermost parts. The intimacy of the situation makes you grip the bed, but once he latches onto you, your hands cramp in the air.

“Oh! Ooh! Oh.” You moan loudly while he deliciously eats you out. His tongue sloppily latches onto your sensitive nub, but he occasionally leaves you long, languid licks on the entire region.

His hand snakes up your body, shirking your nightgown up until it’s over your shirt. He tweaks your nipples, and you can feel your abdomen tightening in response.

You can feel the cooling wetness when Damian finally releases his hold on your clitoris. You want to mourn the absence of his tongue, but the mourning period ends as quickly as it began when he starts to rub his thumb in firm, circular motions.

There are so many sensations happening simultaneously. His thumb on your clit. His rough shirt agitating your nipples. Wet kisses on your neck. His fingers occasionally swiping the wetness leaking from your hole and spreading it around. You couldn’t stop the tide even if you wanted to.

The only thing to hold onto is his biceps. It starts in small waves. A strange feeling arises in you, but you don’t want it to stop. It roils in faster and faster peaks. You bite your lip in anticipation. When it finally arrives, a sound escapes your throat that has never come out before. Your muscles contract as you reach your peak.

Damian’s lips leave your neck to latch onto your mouth. You moan into his mouth as the feeling rides itself out. It’s so overwhelming that all modesty flies out the window. You don’t care how loud you are. You don’t care how you must look. All that surrounds you is the pleasure that Damian extracted from you.

The kiss you share is unlike the one from the day before at your wedding. Your wedding kiss was short and sour. This one is long and sensual.

You don’t want the kiss to end, but Damian takes the initiative to pull back. He maintains eye contact with you while he removes his tunic and pants. You obscenely take in the sight of his defined abs and strong muscles, but you stop once your eyes meet his hardened member.

You jump slightly when he suddenly spits on it. His hand moves up and down to spread his saliva around. The sight is so lewd that you turn your head to avoid it.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, beloved.”

His words force you to look once more at him. His pushes your shoulders down to where you lay flat on the bed. You crane your neck to at least look at what he’s doing. He holds your neck up with his hand to give you a better view once he realizes what you’re trying to do.

He pokes at your entrance. “Beloved, breathe for me.”

You have no choice but to follow the instructions of the man that just had his face in between your thighs moments ago. You inhale, then exhale, and repeat the process.

The pain halts your breath. You hiss as the head of his penis is thrust into you. He shallowly inserts the tip in and out, and leans down to pepper your face with light kisses. Slowly but surely, your hiss turns into a whimper. In response, he thrusts deeper and deeper. He whispers tenderly into your ear.

“You feel amazing, my love.”

“This is what I should have done last night.”

“I am all yours.”

You don’t even realize you’ve shed a tear until he swipes it away. The gentleness of the moment wipes away the last month from your memory. All that exists is here and now.

It hurts, but there’s an equal amount of pleasure licking behind the pain. Damian’s ever-increasing groans only add to your own desire. He impales you with every thrust, but he does so as slowly as possible. You can tell he could be rougher if he wanted, as evident by his muscular figure.

He leans his forehead onto your own, and closes his eyes. You keep yours open to watch him pant. There’s a glow on his skin that highlights every handsome feature about him.

His breathing becomes erratic and so do his thrusts. His grunts are nearly animalistic until finally he groans loudly in delight. You can feel a gush of wetness around your entrance as he lazily thrusts himself in and out of you. He stills himself inside of you at last before practically crushing you under his weight.

You can hardly breathe under the pressure and feebly push upwards against his chest with your hands that are trapped under him. He pulls out of you completely and rolls over to your side, still panting heavily.

He shifts you onto your side to face him and pecks your entire face with light kisses. You giggle at his show of affection, wishing that he would never stop.

But he does. Everything good must come to an end. With one final peck on your lips, he rubs his hands up and down your back before getting up from the bed. The warmth of his body escapes you and you find yourself quite cold suddenly. The fireplace still burns brightly, but Damian’s touch provided a fiery heat that could not be replicated through any other means.

Once he’s finally dressed, he leans down to give you a passionate kiss. You return the affection to the best of your naïve ability.

“Our marriage is now officially sealed. Do you feel like our union is a sham still?”

You squirm in embarrassment. You recall the argument that preceded your intimate counter, but shame overcomes you at the way you behaved.

You nod your head in response. “I apologize, Damian. This past month has just been a whirlwind for me.”

He gazes at you while tying his pants tight. “I understand.” He reaches down and kisses your knuckles, like he did when you first arrived in Gotham. “Goodnight, beloved.”

He strides towards the exit. “Damian, will we spend any time together tomorrow? I’d love a tour of the manor with you as my guide.”

“I don’t think that is possible. I’ll be very busy.” He attempts to walk away, but is stopped by your questioning again.

“Can we at least have dinner together?” He doesn’t turn to face you entirely, but he does tilt his head in your direction.

“Would that make you happy?” he finally says.

“Yes,” you immediately answer. You wanted what just happened to continue to happen. Not necessarily the sex, although that was a definitive plus, but the closeness.

You felt so much closer to Damian within just a night of emotional intimacy that your negative memories of him from the past month shift towards the back of your head. Every kiss he gave you tonight replaced every snide comment made in your direction, the loneliness you felt, and the confusion regarding your relationship status.

“Then, we shall have dinner.” With that, he leaves the room, leaving you bare on the bed.

His absence makes the pain and soreness in your abdomen and genitals evident. You clutch your belly in an attempt to soothe the cramps away.

Your door bursts open. You scramble to cover yourself with something, with anything, but it’s too late.

Honora glares at you as she makes her way towards the bed. The best you can do in your fumbled state is cover yourself with your arms and make yourself as small as possible.

She looks you over, and then at the red and transparent stains on the coverlet.

“Get off the bed,” she snaps. She exits the room and returns a few moments later with two servant girls.

“Hurry up,” she barks at the servants as they scurry to change to the sheets. “I’d like to get some sleep before the sun rises.”

#dc comics #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x fem!reader #damian wayne x y/n #league of assassins #loa!damian wayne #damian wayne #damian wayne smut #medieval!Damian Wayne

364 notes · View notes

happilyhertale · 5 months

Text

Emerald eyes - Aemond Targaryen x fem!stark-reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!stark-reader

Warnings: Fluff

Author’s note:

This story was requested a long time ago... But since the events at the weekend got me out of my Daemon rabbit hole a bit, this story is now finished! English is my second language, soo.. please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.8 k