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#even your own mother to an extent
hi-there-buddies · 9 months
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If you follow me, you know that I’m a crossover au person, like, I LOVE THEM lmao. One I was thinking about recently was a Voltron x DC crossover.
Of course I had Keith as Batman, and I was originally gonna have Allura as Wonder Woman and Lance as Superman. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized the while Allura’s personality fit Diana’s, her actual backstory fit much better with Superman’s. This then, in turn, made me think of a crossover where LANCE is Wonder Woman, or well, Wonder Man, and Allura is Superman (Superwoman).
And now I’m obsessed with the idea of Lance as a stand in for Wonder Woman and how fun that would be to write. His backstory could be around the same as Diana’s, being the child of Hippolyta and Zeus, but instead of killing him or something adjacent, as Amazonians would do to their sons (in some of the DC stories), Queen Hippolyta decided to go against the rules and raise him, much to the chagrin of all the other Amazonians. This could then result in a myriad of problems that he would have to face. Or if you look at other DC stories that just say boys are never born of Amazonian mothers, then his backstory could be his mother was cursed by another God who was angry at Zeus to have a son, or whatever.
I just think it would be so fun to write about honestly. Might even draw something about it.
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emilicious0 · 8 months
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lucifer x f!reader who's like a mother figure to charlie
(pls tell me if you want me to write more of this or more for this man)
□ you died in 1920 after avenging your son's murder and then taking your own life
□ you stumbled across the hotel by accident and decided to step inside out of pure curiosity. you heard that this hotel "rehabilitated sinners" but never really thought of going in because all the hope you had was lost a long time ago
□ at that time, only charlie and vaggie were there, and they were very welcoming
□ despite you being a powerful sinner with the ability to control minds, you avoided using it due to your personal beliefs, which is why you never became an overlord even though you could have
□ you never felt like hell was your place to stay, feeling alone with no one to trust or call a friend
□ when you met charlie and heard her ideas, you started to believe in a much brighter future and even hoped to rehabilitate yourself
□ over time, you and charlie grew closer, and as a former mother, you began to think of her as your daughter.
□ charlie also started to see you as a mother figure, though she still loved lilith
□ you became a mother figure to the whole crew, earning respect even from alastor to some extent, angel dust really missed a parent-like figure in his life
□ when Charlie invited her father over, you were a bit worried about whether he would notice your mother-daughter relationship with charlie and how he might react, given that she still had a mother
◇◇◇
□ after lucifer excitedly greeted his daughter, he noticed you immediately (after the strange red deer demon he didn't like but still).
□ you had a strong yet soft aura, with a beautifu smile on your face (which was rather nervous, but he didn't notice cause he is smitten)
□ everything about you made him feel butterflies in his stomach again, and the strange tingly feeling started to creep up in his chest
□ after charlie's introduction, you held out your hand: "it's an honor to meet you, sir."
□ lucifer began stumbling over his words, his face red all of a sudden "o-oh, yeah! ha-ha! thank you, beautiful! I mean, not beautiful! wait, no, ha-ha, you are beautiful, but that is not what I meant, ha-ha."
□ you smiled, noticing the resemblance between him and charlie and how genuienly sweet the ruler of hell seems
□ meanwhile lucifer is facepalming himself trying to figure out what to do with his new found crush
(gif not mine)
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yesimwriting · 2 months
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Midway
a/n a small-ish fic of someone comforting aegon bc i feel bad for him 😭
Summary: You did not choose to be Aegon's wife, and yet you seem to be the only one choosing to be there for him during his recovery.
Warnings/info: forced marriage turned to awkward, subtle pining masquerading as uneasy friendship, vague descriptions of life threatening injuries, canon compliant incest (reader is rhaenyra's daughter)
read part 2 here: A Matter of Timing
----
Hushed whispers, as stale and sterile as the fresh gauze being stretched and pulled taut against his skin. The rasp of his breathing scrapes at the air that manages to pull itself into your own lungs.
"It is..." Alicent stalls, her gaze never leaving her eldest son, "A lot, I know." Her eyes are wide, glossier than you've ever seen them. An odd sort of empathy presses itself against your chest, making a full breath feel like even more of a fantasy.
Your sympathies and courteously vague expressions of understanding and mutual hurt are things Alicent has no use for. She's tolerated you like an inherited dress that doesn't quite fit, only begrudgingly acknowledging you when surrounded by family.
These days, her barely there tolerance for you has grown even weaker, considering the reports your handmaid had delivered to you of Alicent's attempts to convince the council to lock you away after your mother's retaliation to Aegon's coronation. An imprisonment only prevented by Aegon's command.
She lets out a breath, her attention briefly dropping to the ground before settling on you. "But you are his wife."
A fact she's only come to accept because of your blood. As Rhaenyra's daughter, your marriage had been a compromise, a final attempt at merging a divided family before your grandsire's passing. If your mother had known how quickly Aegon's supporters would have pushed him towards the throne...
You nod your head slowly, dismissing thoughts of yourself. For the first time since your union, the context of your arrangement does not cloud all else. "Yes."
There had been no attempts made to gloss over the extent of Aegon's injuries. For once, the heart of the Red Keep prioritized reality over projecting strength and invulnerability. The maesters had warned you, had detailed the damages left behind by the flames and the fall. An attack strong enough to kill a dragon.
"I um...I tried to visit him earlier, when he first returned." The surprise of your own honesty is an afterthought, a barely there thing attempting to occupy the little space left in your mind. "They said he was not yet stable."
Alicent is silent, some distant quality hollowing her stare as she watches the maester. His movements are succinct, precise as he quietly instructs a maid to bring him a salve left on the table. How many times in these last few days has he gone through this process? How many more times will a maester need to dress Aegon's wounds and rebandage him?
"Stable seems relative." Alicent blinks, her attention returning to what's directly in front of her. She turns to face you. "I trust that you'll sit with him, keep him company after the maester is finished."
Aegon's thoughts on your company have shifted several times throughout the short time you've been married. He often goes through periods of indifference followed by fleeting displays of interest that feel eerily close to companionship. Not quite a friendship or a romance, but something warm and comfortable. Mutual glances shared over supper, peaceful moments in the hall, occasionally crawling into the other's beds at night like children that cannot find sleep on their own.
Some skeptical part of you wonders if Alicent's sudden interest in your wifely responsibilities has more to do with punishing you than caring for Aegon. You doubt she considers you some great source of comfort in her son's life. At least you don't mind the thought of staying here, away from prying eyes and whispers that your privileges within the Red Keep should be restricted until the realm is no longer so divided. "Of course."
She nods once. "There--there is much to be decided upon in Aegon's absence." Alicent lets out a rigid breath. Perhaps Alicent really does want to know that someone's with Aegon. "I should go."
"I will keep him company, your grace."
With that, Alicent spares Aegon a final glance before turning to leave. You remain near the entrance of Aegon's bedchambers, far enough away to not impact the maester and his work.
You watch the process openly. Aegon's burns and other injuries are meticulously cleaned, white cloth stained dark as it is dragged against his skin. Salves and balms are lathered onto his wounds, concoctions meant to promote healing and ward off infection. The final step of the process involves the freshly cleaned wound being rebandaged.
The maester works at an expert pace, treating Aegon's body in sections. Before you know it, he's stepping back to assess the results of his efforts. The maester then looks over at you.
You've never been in a position to be responsible over someone so injured. Are you meant to...dismiss him? Approve his work? Ask something? "Is he..." Well seems like a terrible overstatement. You force yourself to take a few steps forward. "How is he?"
He briefly presses his lips together. "Much more stable than he was previously, your grace. I am afraid that I cannot yet predict much about his recovery. As of now, the priority is preventing infection."
You allow your gaze to fall onto Aegon. There's something about the way he's lying there, immobile and broken and smaller than he should be. "Right. Well, thank you."
The maester nods, "It is my honor, your grace."
He begins to gather his supplies before leaving. At the maester's absence, the maid that had been assisting him turns towards you. "Is there anything you need, your grace?"
You briefly consider sending her out for water or asking her to bring you a book you left in your own apartments. A menial task would ensure her return, which would mean you'd have a temporary reprieve from being alone with Aegon like this. "No, I'm alright. You are free to go."
She nods at the dismissal, "Thank you, my queen."
Queen. The title that belongs to your mother in her own right, not as a position inherited towards marriage.
The girl leaves, her quiet footsteps nearly drowned out by Aegon's unsteady breathing. You watch her until she's disappeared through the doorway, and then for awhile longer. When you can no longer justify your silence, you step forward.
Standing so close to the foot of Aegon's bed tugs at something deep inside of you. He is so still, so without defense. Like this, he does not seem like a man desperate to cement his position, or the person you never wished to be bonded to in this way, or even the only one who you allowed to enter your apartments after news of your brother's death arrived at the Red Keep. Now, he only seems like a boy trapped midway between where he lies and death.
Though bandaged and burned, the entirety of Aegon's features have not been destroyed. The shape of his nose, the part of his lips still familiar. His hair had not been a priority, and while the maester did brush it back to work on him, the disheveled strands have fallen forward again.
You move away from his bed's edge with careful steps. Before you can overthink the act, your hand moves to his forehead. As gently as you can will yourself to, you unplaster the hair stuck to the oily salves on his forehead. Your fingers catch themselves on silvery knots. You begin to pick apart the largest tangles as best as you can without a comb.
It's not an easy task, sweat and product cementing the knots into place. "I'd hate it if no one brushed my hair." The words come out on instinct, the desire to justify your proximity the way you would if he was awake. In all honesty, you're not sure if he can hear you.
The process is slow and clumsy, nails separating strands for you to comb through. Up close like this, you can almost pretend that this is restful for him. He still doesn't look well, but from here you can focus on his shut eyes and parted lips. Your hand drifts away from his hairline, fingertips fluttering over bandages and brushing against unmarred skin.
Something awfully sentimental attempts to claw its way up your throat. "I'll go get a comb." You pull your arm away from him. "I'll--I'll be back, I promise."
You take a single step back before turning your back to him. The maester deemed him stable, which means that he will not spontaneously pass if left alone for a moment. You'll only leave to fetch a comb and maybe a book so that you have something to read aloud. He's never loved your novels, but it's the only way you can think to keep him com--
A soft sound, so gentle and brief you could almost convince yourself you imagined it if it wasn't for the distinctness of the word. Your name.
You stall. Perhaps you misheard something else, maybe a stuttering of his breathing or the room settling. You turn.
He remains unchanged--body in the same position it's been in this entire time and eyes still shut. The supposed whisper should be dismissible.
You step forward, voice fragile as you ask, "Aegon?"
For a moment, pressed between the audible strain between his breaths, a faint optimism pulses through you. Weeks of being a bride, a queen of the realm hated by all those around her, and your only form of protection has, ironically, been the man that's bound you to this place.
The hope fluttering in your stomach quickly morphs into something closer to dread. He is not awake. He is not well enough to call for you or any--a shift, a turn of his outstretched hand so small and inconsequential you likely would not have noticed if it was any less needed.
Ignoring the blurring edges of your vision, you move towards his bedside in quick strides. Without thinking, your hand finds his. "I know that this union is not one you entered willingly. I am also aware of the fact that you know I did not ask for this either." You've not often held Aegon's hand, but now you're glad for his tangibility. "But you--you have not been cruel. You've actually been surprisingly patient, even when I have given you reason not to be."
His palm is warm against yours, the familiarity of it strangely assuring. The few times you've laid together for the sake of duty, the heat of Aegon's skin had been one of the few aspects of the process that you were reluctantly drawn to.
"At times, you have been kind..." You blink in an attempt to dismiss the stinging behind your eyes. "Friendly, even." Your hold on him tightens. "And I miss that. I--I miss our friendship."
The grief in your chest is a hybrid thing, made up just as much out of your empathy and fear as it is by your hurt. It's a sensation so dizzying, you nearly pour your panic out to him. You have to bite your tongue to avoid asking him to not leave you alone here.
Tears are beginning to prick the corner of your eyes when you feel his fingers bend around yours. Aegon squeezes your hand with a barely recognizable force.
He's--he's awake. "Aegon?"
His hold on you does not falter as a faint sigh escapes his lips, a midway of his own.
- - - -
a/n not to offer a part 2 to everything i write but i have an idea for a second fic that’s connected to this so if ur interested lmk :)))
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Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01
Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him
Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList
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Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife
To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award
They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.
Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general. 
I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father
I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids
Thing is, that’s both your faults.
Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own? 
(Your husband is hot okay?)
In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.
I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.
His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.
He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.
He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible
Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.
While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves. 
For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.
But they had to build it themselves.
It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.
Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.
It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)
Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help
(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)
Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.
They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once
Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night
He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills
You had to help out here, no lie.
He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again
He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes
especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies
He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp. 
Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.
You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.
He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles
Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)
"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"
"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"
"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"
If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are
Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.
At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.
His arm is on your waist most of the time.
They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.
He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.
You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!
So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.
It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.
Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.
Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.
He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle
Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.
When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.
Oh no, hugs galore.
Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though
When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp
Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.
I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection
Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)
It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter
His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.
"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"
"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"
Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA
The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result
Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something
Ace is his kids’ hero.
His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.
His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating
You're relieved
Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving
Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better
When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”
Ace loves you so much he swears
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desireangel · 10 days
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Dark Cherry [3] | Aemond Targaryen
Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.
Word Count: 6.9k
Warnings: MDNI 18+!! smut, angst!!!!!!, unedited, infidelity, revenge cheating, oral (m receiving), kinda slightttt dub con if you squint w/ Aegon x reader, Aemond is frustrating, so is reader tbh, slight deviation from canon? again, if you squint, soft!aemond if you also squint. But also---angry Aemond (rahhhhhh), tell me if I've missed any warnings!
Author's note: my APOLOGIES on the wait, y'all. Hopefully this scratches an itch!! it's 11PM here, which is the earliest I've ever posted a fic funnily enough. I also reallyyyyy appreciate the love on this series so far!!! Love you all. As always, please don't hesitate to comment or to interact or hmu in my inbox w/ me bc I LOVE yapping with you guys. Send in feedback or criticism (but like I'll cry if it's super mean) or some headcannons!! or even your best dad joke. Anyways, xoxo kisses!!! <3
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Aemond Targaryen was an intelligent man. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been acting as the realm’s largest imbecile. 
Time and time again, Aemond had let his ego and his pride run ahead of his brain, and had failed to think of the effect that his actions had on people other than himself. Sure, he cared for those who were important to him. His sister, his mother, his grandfather, Ser Cole, Aegon (although Aemond may not have realised it) and even to some extent his wife. 
He realised, perhaps too late, that you may as well be a stranger to him. And at one point, Aemond had truly believed that keeping whatever unlucky woman he was to wed at arms length would be for the best. 
The first time he met you was insignificant. It was as per tradition and formality. Aemond’s interactions up until the wedding was mainly with your family, despite the efforts you made to acquaint yourself with him properly. You were much more timid then, shyer than Aemond had expected from the to-be wife of a weaponised prince. But then again, he had only assumed that a Lady like his mother would have been chosen for him; confident, cunning and strong-headed. 
At the time he had begun to understand you better, Aemond had lost track of himself. A sort of descent into darkness where he went from a young prince to a man, eager to prove himself at whatever cost. Satisfied by the control he gained through fear, strength and reputation. Now that he had stopped to think about his marriage, after you had left him hard and desperate in his own bed, Aemond came to realise a few things. 
You were a purity among the wickedness and politics of the Red Keep. An inherently good person and a woman of grace, kindness and compassion. He had already noticed the dwindling of those traits brought on by your new life, confined to the walls of a fortress that was littered with deceit, distrust and gore. Aemond was a far darker entity than you–he had accepted this fact after the first true conversation you shared. 
Corrupting you was both tempting and terrifying. Aemond had always been loveless–deprived of the affection he craved and deserved but also clueless about how to give that affection. And while he wished he could learn how to right himself and how to quell the carelessness of his temperament and the destruction that was left in its wake, Aemond didn’t know how to. 
Perhaps it would come naturally. He was a lot more open to that notion now, despite the fact that most of him was convinced he was incapable of such change. 
Aemond regretted–something he didn’t feel often–how he had pushed you away. Even if he had not intended to. 
Because now, he was starting to see you as you were. A woman who had far more of an influence over his emotions than he realised–a woman who he had begun to crave the affections of in such an intensity that it only served to scare him away from you. At one stage, you had been another stranger among the walls of his home bound to him in nothing but title but, at some point throughout this ridiculous game that he had stupidly encouraged, Aemond had started to see you as his wife. 
The whore that he had let into his bed was not actually a whore. It was a woman Aemond had known–a witch whom he had shared the pleasures of his body with before the two of you had wed. Alys was always eager for him and once, he would have returned it with his own enthusiasm. Not anymore. She was simply an easier option. A whore would never sully the sanctity of his chambers. It wouldn’t have made a difference if he had been honest and told you that Alys was not from the Street of Silk. 
To anyone who came asking, including you, Aemond would first admit to taking a whore into his bed than a lowly witch.
He cursed himself for letting his honour fall so short that this is what it took for him to wake up. For him to have tainted his loyalty to you, to have let a woman whom he could barely get it up for shatter the confines of his marriage, for him to have been left unwound with a hard cock, his hand and only the scent of you on his thigh to release the tension that was driving him mad. 
Aemond wished he hadn’t been so short sighted. He would subject himself to whatever punishment he deserved should it be the burn of a whip against his back or the sickening ache of starvation if you were to demand it. 
All of a sudden, in the days that had passed since your encounter on his bed, Aemond found himself looking for you throughout his day. He hoped you’d cross each other in the halls, cursed the world for keeping him too busy to spend an afternoon with you in the gardens, sworn at the war that was raging for binding him to his duties and keeping you apart. 
So at the first opportunity he had to take time for himself and for the first time in your short marriage, Aemond had called upon you to join him for afternoon tea.You stared at the young servant who had been sent to retrieve you, half wondering if you had heard the boy incorrectly. Had he called you simply one moon ago, you would have dropped everything you were doing to meet your husband for tea with a grin and a skip in your step at the prospect of finally spending time with him on his own accord. 
But now? It both excited you and infuriated you. 
You gave the boy a soft smile, holding your reserve together when his face dropped at your refusal. “You may tell my husband that I am otherwise attended to for my tea.”
It wasn’t a lie. You had important plans for the afternoon with the other Targaryen son. 
The servant stood still for a moment. “Yes, my Lady.”
“The rest of my afternoon is already engaged with the King,” you purposefully added, a mixture of adrenaline and excitement beginning to simmer in your belly. “Tell him I will take tea with him another time.”
You were walking away from your chambers before the servant had turned to leave. A part of you felt bad for him. Anyone would be wary of delivering rejection to a prince. It felt as if you were sending him to his death in a way, knowing that the seemingly innocent excuse was balancing on a wire that was already frayed. If the young servant had known of your sly plan for revenge, he would have spoiled his breeches. 
There was a chance Aemond would catch on straight away. There was a chance that he would take a little longer. 
Either way, so long as he caught on, everything would unfold in your favor.
Aegon had been waiting for you, a mischievous smile on his lips at the sight of you eagerly rushing towards him. He was an immature and distracted King, and he was definitely not without his flaws, but he had never been bad to you. Sometimes, you even appreciated Aegon’s efforts to involve you in conversation or to pull a smile out of you when you had clearly been distressed. Nonetheless, he was still an infuriating cad and you had often considered giving in to violent urges at the way he treated Helaena. 
Helaena. 
A stab of guilt in your gut at the thought of her. Sure, she had confided in you on numerous occasions and you knew she felt little care for Aegon’s outwards ventures with women but you knew she was saddened by the state of her marriage. And here you were, as wretched as the whore that Aemond had bedded. It was no different; you were doing the same thing as her. Only it wasn’t your job; you weren’t doing it for the money. 
The satisfaction of bringing Aemond down to the same level he had brought you to was all the motivation you needed. It would be treading a thin line but it would be worth it. 
“I had wondered how long it would take you to find yourself in my chambers, Princess,” Aegon’s voice held that boyish shrill he had never grown out of. The way he had stepped aside to let you pass, eyes holding yours through his lashes as he dipped his head with a grin. “For a cup of tea, of course.”
Comparing Aegon’s chambers to Aemond’s was instinctual. It was brighter here, messier and there was an unkempt feel to the furniture despite the servant’s having kept things relatively put together. A King’s chambers, it was; grand and large and adorned with all sorts of artistry. Aemond’s chambers had held a darker tone; presumably because Aemond was sensitive to light on his blind eye and somehow even the glow of light from the lamps were deeper and warmer. 
You liked Aemond’s chambers better. 
“It has been overdue, Your Grace,” you weren’t sure of that. “Thank you for indulging me this afternoon. I wager a King such as yourself is no short of duties to tend to.” 
Aegon scoffed, pouring himself a cup of wine as he watched you take a seat at the small settee from the corner of his eye. “My family seems to be taking care of my duties on my behalf. I am a king in nought but title, you see.”
There was nothing you could say at his unbridled honesty. Aegon was different to most of the people who presided here in that way. He cared little to hide behind a facade of false indifference and stoicism. 
He fell to the cushion beside you, close enough so you could smell the drink he balanced in his hand. Aegon laid back lazily, resting on his elbows and watching you as you sat pin-straight and brought the piping tea to your lips. “‘Tis not a concern. I would much prefer to have more comely company than those clueless cunts who sit on my counsel.”
“I do not doubt that, Your Grace,” you coughed lightly, growing alarmingly aware of the fact that you hadn’t thought about how this was going to play out. There was absolutely nothing that you knew about seducing a king. No less, a king with Aegon’s track record. “I beli-”
“You have been different,” He cut you off. Swiftly pushing himself up so that his face was beside yours, breath tickling the strands of your hair that had fallen loose across your cheek. Aegon’s lips were gently turned up as his eyes traced every curve of your face. 
Swallowing thickly, you will yourself to meet his eye with confidence. The curiosity in his familiar violet eyes was paired with an immature lust and you wondered if he had any idea how easy it could be to use his forward thinking cock against him were you a woman of cunning ambitions. You didn’t miss how his gaze flickered across your throat and towards the curve of your chest. 
But something in the way that Aegon looked at you in that moment, like you were a woman of such beauty that he would risk whatever consequences were sent his way just to feel your touch sent a slither of saddened longing across your chest. Not even your husband had made you feel as if you were so captivating. 
It made the knowledge of how ever long you’d be alone with him far easier to stomach.
“I do not know of what you mean, Your Grace.”
Aegon laughed, bringing his face so close to yours that the point of his nose touched against your cheek. His hand fell to rest flat just above your belly, brazenly close to where your dress tucked underneath the curve of your breasts. 
“I know well when a Lady is not…” he dragged his nose across your soft skin, eyes carefully watching your reaction. “Sufficiently satisfied by her husband.”
Your breath hitched at how quickly Aegon had set his target. “If you mean to-”
“Does my dear brother forego his duties for the comfort of whores, perhaps?”
Pursing your lips, you gently turned your face so that your lips were centimetres away from his, Aegon’s fringe brushing across your forehead. There was a ringing in your ears, a nervousness about how you were so close to betraying your husband and how you were unsure that you could handle the fallout of what was definitely about to happen. Things are much different for women; infidelity and adultery would be grounds for far worse than simply an annulment. This world was not so kind to a lady who partakes in the same treachery as a lord.
Above all, you were conflicted.
“It seems my husband is no different to any other man who does not hunger for his wife.”
“I hunger for his wife,” Aegon all but moaned at the way your lips nudged closer to his. He cocked his head to the side and pressed his fingers into your flesh. “But I am no fool, my Lady. Aemond has always been the sole object of your gaze. You are here for more sinister reasons, I suspect.”
You blinked. Why did these Targaryen princes so often seem to be one step ahead?
It was a relief that he had not moved away from your closeness. In fact, Aegon leaned further into it. His smile never faltered and he waited patiently for you, watching as you thought of your next moves. There was a flush of embarrassment that prettied your skin and it was clear that your facade was close to crumbling. Aegon was not a man you desired in such a way. Merely a means to an end. 
So you sighed, resigning to the fact that being honest with Aegon would be best. 
“You are right,” you muttered. He shook with a silent laugh at your bravery and the way your chin remained turned up. “I-I believe you are aware of my intentions, Your Grace. Will you have me dragged back to Prince Aemond’s feet or will you allow my scheme?”
Aegon was in front of you in a matter of seconds, bending down so that he met your height as you stayed seated. “I would risk meeting the wrath of a man whose temperament and pride are unchained.”
“Teach me how to make it worth it then, my King,” you held strong in forcing the tremble out of your voice. You didn’t want to bed him entirely–absolutely not. Just what you had seen through the gap in Aemond’s door would be more than enough and there was a bubbling gratification in your stomach knowing that Aemond would not be able handle what he had so easily served out. 
His hand held the back of your neck and he jerked forward to catch your lips, grunting when you turned your head from him. You couldn’t kiss him. You weren’t interested in kissing him–only fulfilling the steady thrum of excitement at the need to both experience what you had been teased with and show your husband that he should be sorry. 
In fact, and you were loathsome to even rationalise it, you felt sick at the thought of kissing him. And you felt a little drop in your gut at the thought of taking him in any kind of way but it was different. Less frightening than kissing a man you were trying so hard to convince yourself was sexy enough.
There was no man for your body’s desires aside from Aemond Targaryen-–
A deep breath and you looked at Aegon through your lashes, bringing your fingers to feel the softness of his lips. “I do not want you to fuck me, Your Grace. But show me how I may give you pleasure with my mouth. And how a man can satisfy me with his.”
Aegon became excited at your use of such foul language, his hand remaining behind your neck as he straightened and guided you roughly to his hips, groaning as your hands instinctively found his thighs and moved upwards. He was painfully hard in his breeches–he had been since the first moment you looked at him with that stubborn intent and purpose. 
There was a strong urge to push him away but you fought through it. 
“I am sure your husband is already searching for his brazen little vixen,” Aegon watched as you breathed heavily, your chest heaving and your soft breasts pressing against the tightly laced corset of your dress. “And I am sure you wish for him to find us. Very cunning of you, I must say.” 
His touch didn’t pull that feeling from you. The feeling of Aemond’s touch that had made you feel as if you were floating in lava and drowning in a molten heat that could only be quelled by him. But it made your blood rush down, growing sensitive between your thighs at the prospect of pleasuring a man who openly lusted for you and had no care for hiding it. 
Aegon didn’t care for games that shattered your self-worth. He didn’t care to make you feel lesser than a whore for your curiosity of how it felt to have a man tremble from your mouth. All he wanted was to feed his appetite for you–the beautiful Lady who he had envied his brother for having to himself.
“I want to learn how to do it,” you whispered, melting into Aegon’s guidance as he hastily fiddled with the embellishments on his tunic to undo half of it and push the velvet fabric out of the way. The laced belt at his waist was discarded in seconds and you took little time to pull him out of the confines of his breeches. “So I can–so I can show him.”
There was a certain light headed nervousness that you felt when you realised that you don’t actually know how to do what you wished to. It seemed easy enough when you watched how that woman had given Aemond her mouth but now that you were faced with trying it out yourself, you worried how you would fare. Aegon triggered a natural response from you, one that you had learned was instinctual of human bodies, but you just could not find him desirable. 
Momentarily, you doubted you could find it in you to disregard your aversion to the King. An aversion that suddenly became more pressing an issue than it was merely seconds ago.
Aegon must have noticed your apprehension because he guided you forward, the hardened length of his cock brushing against your face. He was breathing heavily when he spoke. “Lick it. Use your tongue first and then-fuck, that’s right-” you hesitantly followed his instructions, dragging the tip of your tongue across the sides of him, gentle flicks down to the base and then a long stripe up to the top. It was an invigorating thrill when you felt him throb against your mouth. His hips jerked when you hesitantly wrapped your lips around him. 
It was slightly uncomfortable but it was not a bad feeling. Aegon tasted musky and salty, and a little bit sweaty. You took a moment to find the best way to stop your teeth from grazing against him and started to move along him, watching as he threw his head back, eyes shut tightly. 
The image of your husband stayed ingrained in your head. Would Aemond taste the same? Would he feel the same on your tongue? Would his cock react to you in such a way? Would you enjoy taking him in your mouth more than whatever this was?
Shamefully or not, you let yourself pretend that Aegon was not the man standing above you. That it was Aemond instead, enjoying what you were keen to give him and praising you for being so eager to taste him. 
You wished so hard that it was Aemond instead, that for a moment, when you gazed upwards it was him looking down at you with his hair falling perfectly and his eyepatch discarded. Alas, it was King Aegon, who revelled in staring at you with an amusement coupled with bliss that only felt belittling. 
It did set your body into a light rush of arousal but you couldn’t stop the doubts that flooded your mind. Were you dishonouring the sanctity of your body out of spite? Were you betraying the man you almost loved just to have a jab at him? Guilty tickles grew in your ribcage but you distracted yourself from it, focusing on the way that Aegon steered your movements. 
“Shit,” he hissed. Aegon’s hand found the back of your head and he adjusted your pace how he preferred. “Use your hand. What doesn’t fit–hold it.”
It became slightly easier once you found your rhythm, following each instruction that Aegon gave, drinking in the way his thigh trembled under your hand that rested against it, holding yourself stable as you hollowed your cheeks. Whatever you did, it almost came naturally and Aegon seemed to be enjoying it far more than you had expected. 
But it quickly became too much–Aegon started thrusting in a way that didn’t match your movements and you gagged, eyes burning at the ache of him hitting the top of your throat. You made a noise, pulling off and gasping for air, whining as he tugged your mouth back to him and chuckling. Lungs burning, you tried to meet whatever pace Aegon was moving at in an attempt to make things more comfortable. 
You reminded yourself of why you were here. The image of Aemond, head thrown back and groans slipping past his lips as he let that woman take him in his mouth. The image of Aemond, head buried between her legs, the skin on his chin glistening as he smirked at you while pleasure another woman. 
The feeling when your courtly acquaintances who you once thought of as friends would slyly belittle you for failing to give your husband an heir, belittling you because word of his infidelity had reached their gossiping mouths, belittling you because the Prince who they loathed you for having was hardly yours after all. The looks that they had given you, the way that they snickered and sneered at your failures as his wife. Whispers you had overheard from Lords alike; that for such a pretty thing, you must have been dreadfully dull in the ways of pleasure if Prince Aemond of all men had resorted to whores. 
That was how they all saw you; a failure. Because it was never a man’s fault but always his wife’s. 
You loathe to think that Aemond harboured the same thoughts. But you would show him how mistaken he was and make him feel what you had felt so that he would regret it all. 
“Fuck-” Aegon let out a drawn out groan as he pushed your head down, pushing himself as far down your throat as he could. You struggled to breath and you gagged twice but let him move you as he pleased, a satisfactory moan vibrating against his sensitive skin when he threw his head back and grumbled about spilling himself down your throat. 
It was a chaotic moment. 
The protest of the kingsguard through the wall and the bang of the door slamming open and you didn’t even need to turn and look. Aemond was seething, barely given the chance to put the pieces together before Aegon simultaneously groaned and laughed, the salty taste of his seed gliding past a sensitive part of your throat and pulling another gag from you as you yanked yourself away from Aegon. 
Everything seemed to pause for a moment. And despite the obnoxious laughter coming from the King as he tucked himself back into his breeches, the heavy breathing of your husband and your gasps for air, everything felt silent. 
Your blood ran hot at the way Aemond looked between you and Aegon. Nonetheless you met his eye, holding your chin up and wiping a bead of Aegon’s peak from your lip. 
It felt good. Watching as Aemond forced himself back into his stoic resolve; only bothering to subdue the way his eye filled with the same betrayal you still felt in your gut at the thought of the whore who had been on her knees for him in an almost identical way. 
Stoicism and slow, simmering, silent rage. 
The air around you turned hot enough to light a candle. Aemond’s presence alone had proven to be enough to send you spiralling from the heat he encased you in whenever he was in the same room but this? You were choking, sick to your stomach and doing your best to keep your knees from buckling at his intensity. 
Aemond heard Aegon ramble out some hideous insult, watched how you frowned at him and heard the echoes of his cackle. But the ringing in his ears overwhelmed it all and he had no clue what his brother had taunted him with before his fist met Aegon’s cheek with a loud crack.
He didn’t bother sparing his brother a second glance. Aemond was stood in front of you and despite his obvious anger, he pulled you up from where you were seated with a gentleness which had your mind reeling. 
There was a threat hidden in his voice. “Come with me. Now.”
Perhaps you had made a mistake. The gentle fury in Aemond was terrifying and even though you knew he would never raise a hand at you the way he thoughtlessly did at Aegon, there were so many ways that a Prince could ruin you. 
You felt a pit of regret now that it was over and the curtain of lust had lifted. It was easy to see how simple it is to get lost in the touch of another but it was easier to see how simple it is to avoid it. 
There was satisfaction. And you felt it simultaneously with the adrenaline of being caught and the doubts of your actions. Princes and Princesses and Kings and Queens were so unaware of their hypocrisy until it was spat back into their faces. 
Aemond would never in a million years have understood what he was doing to you if you had just been a submissive little wife and forgiven him. But now? Now he would know. And now things would be balanced and your desire to hurt him as he had done you has been fulfilled. And now you could see how this marriage would really stand against such tests.
And now, you may finally know whether Aemond truly did not care for you. Because if Aemond did not care for you–or even in part; love you–then he would not be hurt and he would not be feeling such betrayal.
Right now, as Aemond silently walked you towards his chambers, hands fisted, jaw clenched tightly and his gaze fixed ahead, you were fearful of how things would fare. As strong as you wished for your resolve to stay, Aemond’s disappointment was showing you a new weakness. And his words, you knew, if they were used as weapons then you would stand little chance against them. There was a heavy weight against your lower back where his hand sat, pushing you gently so that you glided through the halls faster. 
It wasn’t a long journey back to Aemond’s quarters. But it felt like hours to the Prince, the nausea in his gut silencing him the entire way. He felt like a child again, presented with a pig instead of a dragon, the shrill laughs of his cousins and his brother striking him with flashes of humiliation. 
Again and again and again, Aegon would do whatever he could to see Aemond crumble. Aegon would always take Aemond’s dignity, his honour, his crown. And now he just had to take his wife? 
Aemond shut the doors to his chambers roughly and you were quick to put some distance between the two of you. There was a hollow ball of guilt and fear that caught in your throat but you couldn’t deny the elation at the mixture of emotions in Aemond’s eye as he turned to face you. 
It was a reflection of how you had felt upon finding Aemond in bed with another. He would finally understand. 
Only Aemond was worlds away from the damned arousal you had felt and instead it was replaced with a youthful dread, a panic that you had never seen from him before now. 
There was hardly a moment for you to register the harshness of Aemond’s grip on your bicep as he pulled you toward the bowl that was kept by his bath, filled with clean water and accompanied by a tray of freshening oils. He lightly shoved you toward it as he let you go, unfazed by the sound of shock that you could not hold back. 
“Wash your mouth,” he spat. Although your back was to him, you could feel how he suppressed the extent of his rage as he was ever so good at doing. “And then we will talk.”
You bit your tongue and did as he said, wincing at the ice in his words and the angry strain of his voice. There was a lot that you wanted to say, to scream at him. He was angry–and to some extent he had every right to be–but how could Aemond have expected you to be okay with something that he clearly could not take on the chin?
But the way he had held you, the tone of his voice and the harshness in his glare had you wondering if revenge was worth whatever comes next. Because, amongst the whirlwind of fear and guilt and regret was gratification and fulfilment. 
The prickle of Aemond’s glare had disappeared before you were ready to dry your mouth with a towel. Quiet as ever, he had snuck away and by the time you had realised, the sound of the door shutting and the click of the lock had notified you of his absence. 
Aemond had locked you in. When you had swiftly tried to push the doors open, unaware of where you would go and truthfully not intending to leave in the first place, it didn’t budge. And when you called for the kingsguard who stood at the other side of the door, you went unanswered aside from a curt reply that he had been ordered not to let you leave. 
So you had resigned yourself to sitting atop Aemond’s bed rather than the seating arrangements scattered around the rest of the quarters. It smelled strongly of lavender, leather and Aemond’s very own scent–the one that always had you on the verge of drooling. But it only sent your nerves into overdrive, afraid that the consequences of your vengefulness, no matter how satisfying it was initially, may be too dire to recover from. 
The thought of whatever Aemond had planned for Aegon was not nice. You were correct in assuming that your tryst with Aegon would only cut your husband deeper because it was Aegon. The depth of whatever issues these brothers shared was far beyond you but you had only assumed that all second born princes would be affected in such a way. And Targaryen’s were full of complexities, each believing that they were better than everyone. Even their own siblings. 
Aegon had known that his younger brother would become nothing short of murderous. But he had never been a man to avoid even the slightest of temptations. Both the idea of indulging in you and inflaming the ever unresponsive Aemond were far more than slightly tempting. It would be worth the bloodied nose, the split lip and the sick that he’d spewed over his shoes when Aemond had returned to grace him with an inhumanly strong hit to his balls. Somehow, Aemond had made that act of violence seem like child’s play with the threats that he had rained down upon Aegon. 
King Aegon, who simply did not know when to keep his mouth shut and had all but asked for it with the way he taunted Aemond with a sentence he never had the chance to complete. “Seeing as you cannot satisfy even your own wife-”
He wasn’t there long. Aemond’s angry mind was racing and he couldn’t think past the red of his rage. But Aemond still knew better than to stay where he would surely commit a treason he would regret. 
Whatever fury Aemond had unleashed upon Aegon in the short time he was away had seemed to calm him down. He was still clearly angry when he stepped back into his quarters but there was a far less frightening storm brewing in his eye. 
At his return, you had stood from the bed. The air was sucked right out of the room when Aemond stood right in front of you, so close that you could count the creases in the leather of his eyepatch. There was a tense silence in which he stared at you, waiting for you to fold but you only held your head high and met his gaze stubbornly. 
Minutes had passed before Aemond spoke. His voice was far softer than you had expected and he seemed to have settled down a bit as he dragged his knuckles across your cheek, only to grip your chin so that you could not look away from him. Aemond held you tightly but not tight enough that it hurt.
“Enough of this,” It was an order, stern and unrelenting. “No more. This was a step too far-”
You scoffed in his face. “A step too far? Had you not done the same thing?”
Aemond had never in his life apologised for anything. He never felt sorry. And he never wished to admit to his mistakes. But here he was, face to face with the effects of one of the biggest mistakes he had made. If there were anything he could have done aside from apologise, he would have done it. But it was the only thing that would ease the mess of guilt that had arisen inside of him. For what he had done with the whore and for everything he hadn’t done for your marriage. 
“It was a mistake. If I could undo it, I would,” I’m sorry. “This was childish of you. Vengefulness is unbecoming.”
There was a beastly disgust that Aemond felt when he thought of another man even looking at you. The image of Aegon’s cock in your mouth, his seed leaking from your lips made him want to burn the entire realm to ashes. Aemond’s eye trailed along your jaw, to your neck and then down past your stomach. Did Aegon touch you where only he was to touch you?
Fuck treason. Aemond would feed Aegon to Vhagar if he had indulged in your body. 
“It is more than vengeance. You would not have understood what I felt. How I suffered because of you and your whore,” you tried your best to keep your voice stable. The lump in your throat and the tears that blurred your vision forced you to pull out of Aemond’s grip and turn your back to him. “You promised me you would never do that. You dishonoured me. You insulted me. You hurt me–Aemond, do you have any idea the things that they say about me?”
Aemond frowned and you could not see how he reached for you, only to drop his hand back to his side. “I–”
“That I am a failure. That I am-that I am so repulsive and so dull that you cannot even lay with me to produce an heir,” you couldn’t help the sob that escaped you. “And I saw what she was doing to you, what you were doing to her. I could never even have imagined the existence of such an act that had given you so much pleasure-”
“There was no true pleasure with her.” Aemond mumbled. Pathetically. 
Pathetic was exactly the word. Aemond may have been good with a sword, in a fight, with his dragon and when strategizing wars. But he was a pathetic husband–a pathetic partner, a pathetic lover. And he had the urge to take out his good eye for being so mindless and so ignorant. 
Hindsight was his worst enemy, it seemed. Because in hindsight, Aemond would have done everything differently, right from the moment you were introduced to him.
“Lie. It was clear, Aemond. They are all right, are they not?” You felt him step into you, his warm chest against your back. Leather and lavender and him. “I have failed. My womb is still empty. The last time you visited my bed was moons ago. I know you do not love me, my Prince, but I have love for you. Men are not the only ones who need intimacies of the body–I needed that and you have never given me anything. Yet you gave it to her. I wished to hurt you as you had hurt me.”
There were no words that Aemond could find. So he settled for shaking his head and watching you as you sat yourself down on the edge of his bed, staring down at your hands on your lap. You were so wrong in your perception of him but he couldn’t find the words to explain that. But Aemond decided in that moment that he would show you, one way or another. He hesitated before sitting beside you. 
You couldn’t meet his eye if you tried. It was as if your body was telling you to stop talking, that these thoughts were too painful to share, feelings too abstract and tender to put into words. 
“It is wretched, I know–to have turned to Aegon,” you felt him tense beside you and against your better judgement, you placed a hand on his thigh in an attempt to give him some comfort. “I wished to hurt you but I also wished to learn. I thought maybe if I knew how to-how to do things that would make you feel good so that maybe you would feel for me as I have for you. Aegon said he could show me. It is ridiculous, I understand that now.”
Aemond took your hand in his, the heat of your skin against his was fierce for such an insignificant action. He hated that it was easier for you to turn to Aegon than it was to turn to him. “I could have shown you. I can show you so much more. If only we had been honest with each other from the beginning.”
“I thought you do not want me.”
He sucked in a sharp breath. It would be less painful to drive his own dagger through his heart. “I crave for you, my love. I was just too stubborn to admit it and too afraid of what it means. And I did not know how to show you how badly I burn for you.”
The sight of tears had never fazed him until they were yours. Aemond was not particularly pious, he prayed simply because his mother had raised him to pray, but he would be on his knees every hour of every day if it meant that he could take these feelings away from you. If it meant that he could take it all back and start over. 
“I am sorry. No more of this,” you said. “No more seeking out the touch of anyone else in place of each other.”
“I will be a better husband,” Aemond stated, as if he were telling it to himself as much as he was to you. “I will try for our marriage and our duty. And for you.”
“Your promises haven’t proven to mean much to me. All is not forgiven just because we have talked,” You sighed, but gave him a weak smile, turning to look at him. 
He gazed down at you with determination, his jaw tight and his eye glistening with tears that wouldn’t fall. There was no attempt to push you away when you reached up to take off the leather that covered his bad eye. You wanted to see him as he was, even if only for a moment.
Gods, he was beautiful. 
As you stood you forced your smile to turn lighthearted as you teased him through your heavy hearts. “Jealousy motivates you well, my Prince. I shall remember that.”
Aemond hummed, mostly serious as his hands tightly grabbed your hips. “Do not jest like that. I will not be able to look at Aegon without dreaming of murdering him for defiling you how only I should. I cannot afford such treasonous fantasies.”
There was a silent threat in his words. Nonetheless, you leaned down to his ear, gasping gently at the harshness of his fingers squeezing the flesh of your hips. Just his hands on your body alone set you alight. 
“Perhaps my husband should leave the door to his bedchambers open tonight,” you let out a small laugh at the way that he pulled you to straddle his lap so suddenly, gently nipping the skin of his earlobe. You weren’t quite done messing with him. 
“Is that so?” He smiled and you thought that it made him all the more beautiful. 
“Yes,” you smirked, when he groaned frustratedly at your next words, softly throwing you onto the bed. “I may wish to show you exactly what I have learned.”
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llonelygoddess · 1 year
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Yandere House Stark Headcanons
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A/N: I ended up not doing Bran and Rickon only because I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later and they were a little difficult to write for. If you'd like to see headcanons for them I can definitely make another post for them, just let me know.
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Let's say you are a low born person looking for refuge in Winterfell after your village was sacked by Wildlings. You had hoped to find some tavern to hold up in or even a brothel, but unbeknownst to you the Stark family kept an eye on newcomers. When they received news of your arrival, they requested your presence. It was only to talk about the possibility of nearby Wildlings, but when YOU showed up beaten and scared for your life- how could they not offer their Stark hospitality?
This is where the yandere tendencies begin.
Ned Stark, as a yandere, is protective and definitely has a savior complex. He's an honorable and just man that can't help but bring home strays, so when he sees you it's like finding Jon all over again. A deep sense of responsibility comes over him and he knows in that moment that you are just as much his as any of his kids. From that day forward he assigns a room for you in the castle and a handmaiden to keep you company, not that you'll be needing it. The family of course is shocked at his sudden interest, but they all love to see him happy and nothing makes him more happy than seeing you taken care of.
Now Catelyn is initially worried that Ned has taken a romantic interest in you, but when she sees the way you both interact she understands the fatherly bond he is trying to create very similar to his own kids. It didn't take long for her to fall into her own yandere tendencies; checking in on you in the mornings, making prayer wheels even when you're not sick, helping in the kitchen to make sure your food was perfect ( and not poisoned). She takes her role as your surrogate mother very seriously,sometimes to the extent of watching you sleep or ordering guards to discreetly watch over you and report back. Her biggest worry is that you'll be taken away from them so she takes extra precautions to keep you safe.
Robb is head over heels for you instantly. Man is down bad. Much like his father, Robb has a savior complex and finds himself wanting to be YOUR savior always. He does this by training extra hard with Jon, keeping an eye on you at all times, and giving threatening looks to any man or woman who gets too close to you. He doesn’t mean to scare away any potential friends but he does mean to scare away potential lovers. He couldn’t bear to see you with anyone outside the family, and even then he has a sword up his butt about it. 
On the other hand, Jon takes a while to warm up to you. He loves his family and is vicious to outsiders who could harm them. Eventually, seeing how you interact with everyone makes him a tad jealous. Not of you, but of his family and how easily they can approach you. I definitely see Jon as an overprotective/stalker yandere with strong jealous tendencies that make him beg for your approval. He finds himself wherever you are, lurking in the background, waiting for the right moment to catch you alone. Jon feels like himself around you and the more time you spend together the more addicted to your presence he becomes. 
Theon is hands down THE worshiper of the group. It's a hot take for sure but as a yandere, I see Theon's insecurities and fears taking over, slightly similar to reek!Theon. He sees you as a deity, above the Lords and Ladies, even above the King/Queen themself. If it were up to him he'd be the one giving you your meals, running your baths, standing by your side as guard. He cherishes your very presence and hopes one day you'll see his never ending loyalty to you and only you. 
Sansa is very quiet about her obsession, you almost couldn't tell. She's the perfect friend, always sitting next to you at meals, gossiping about the Lords and Lady's of court, and helping you stock your wardrobe. Whatever hobby you choose to pick up, she's always there to praise you in your efforts and guide you in whatever way she can. She especially loves teaching you how to embroider as it's her specialty. It was all but normal until you came upon her private journal filled with both your names in beautiful cursive surrounded by hearts. You begin to notice the closeness she silently demands, eyeing everyone else to stay away. You see the way she longingly watches you from afar when you choose to spend time with anyone else. And your dresses, that you both so carefully picked out, seem to have a little embroidered "SS" on the nape of your neck.
Arya sees you as her golden older sibling, the one who can do no wrong. She is constantly dragging you around Winterfell - riding horses and trying to shoot arrows (and failing lol). She finds comfort within you, the only person who doesn't expect anything of her except to be herself. And for that she will never leave your side. Most nights you'll find her trying to sneak into your room to share a bed, but whether she can get past the guards Ned and Catelyn have posted outside your door is another story.
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pprodsuga · 4 months
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never to keep | heeseung
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summary: heeseung was always a natural scene stealer, capturing the hearts and attention of those around him. it seemed predestined that he'd pursue a life that would take him beyond the cosmos and leave behind the constellations he once treasured. it's too bad that you were one of them.
warnings: angst and typos, probably.
word count: 8.6K (shorter than previous works, forgive me)
notes: ahahah. this is a therapy piece ... currently dealing with similar themes of a friend prioritizing work and people who don't care for her over people who do, and i feel veryyy conflicted as of late. i, like yn, am not a plaything. why not turn it into a fic. anyway, enjoy and happy reading! x
masterlist + taglist
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
If you love someone, they will always come back to you. 
There’s no logic in love, only strong emotions that make people disregard all they know to chase the feeling of reckless abandon. Love is a wildcard that can catch even the most self-protective person off guard. You’ve read it in stories from childhood fairytales to watching strangers fall in love in your favorite books and television shows growing up. You believe the people who kiss on the screen must surely find an ounce of love, even if only for a brief moment. 
It’s no surprise that you’ve come to love Heeseung the way you do. To love him is to know him, even if he’s too tired to see you on the weekends or too occupied to sit next to you at the lunch period because of his days training to become an idol. What you know at this point in your life is that love is unconditional; supporting your best friend to pursue a dream he’s talked about since he could speak feels right. 
To love somebody doesn’t necessarily mean to devote oneself to the fullest extent, but somehow you feel as though this way of thinking never quite aligned with how you’ve come to love. Heeseung’s parents are a surrogate for your own, especially when it’s just you and your mother in the small, two bedroom apartment that sits on the edge of town and away from the city. They tuck you in at night during holidays and other special occasions when you’ve become too tired to drive back to your home. 
Minjun, Heeseung’s younger sister by four years, warmed up to you quicker than anyone had expected. The fierce girl had a protective streak over her brother once he grew into his height and learned that winking at pretty girls could get them to do whatever he asked of them within reason. Minjun doesn’t recall when she met you for the first time because she was likely too young to remember, but her sweet nature towards you speaks louder than you could’ve ever anticipated. 
Growing up with a single parent as an only child provides enough time to befriend loneliness. There are days spent idly in the apartment waiting for someone to keep you company, often wishing that the house was filled with people to keep the void full and lively. But now, because of the Lee family and how close you’ve become to their two children, it seems as if the idea of a central family is closer than you think. 
Heeseung didn’t expect for you to become a prominent fixture in his life when the two of you were partnered for a science project at the ripe age of thirteen. He’d experienced a growth spurt and acne for the first time simultaneously, growing insecure in himself with every day that passed by. Heeseung hadn’t anticipated you sitting with his family at the dinner table five years later, listening to a mundane story about his mother’s workday at a boring corporate-level position Heeseung doesn’t bother to remember. 
He never thought you’d be cooking with his father in the kitchen upon returning home from his training practices, talking about the art of seasoning as the meal preparations come to a finish. He doesn’t remember when you started coming over without the pretense of coming to see him either. Heeseung surely does not anticipate Minjun waiting for your arrival by the front windows just to insist on being the first person who welcomes you into their home. 
Naturally, Minjun becomes a recognizable face in your life because of how often she spends time with you and Heeseung. The young girl sets up her homework as the two of you begin yours, her schoolbooks significantly lighter than yours but you make conversation anyhow. 
“I think she likes you because you don’t treat her like she’s thirteen,” Heeseung says as he dries the dishes from dinner as you scrub them clean. “She hates it when people baby her.” 
“Sometimes I think I need to watch how I talk to Minjun.”
“No, you don’t. Minjun likes that you talk to her like a friend.”
“That’s what she is, no? A friend?”
“More than me?”
You flick water towards Heeseung. “Yes, if you keep teasing me.” 
“Seriously, though. Thanks for being nice to her. She complains that she’s the youngest out of everybody all the time.”
“I used to be like that.” You close the tap water and hand the last dish to Heeseung. “I hated being at the kids table when everybody else got to be an adult. Minjun’s at the age where she’s aware of it.” 
“God, we sound like her parents, or something.”
You bite back a smile. 
Caring for Heeseung is arguably the easiest thing you’ve ever done. He makes it simple when you receive a text from him hours before you wake up and just before you go to bed despite his busy schedule. You wonder at all how he manages to fit you into his life with all of his dreams and responsibilities, but Heeseung always tells you it’s because there’s room for you. 
Being so close to his family helps internalize the fact that you are a permanent fixture in his life. Mrs. Lee drops off baked goods on Saturday mornings most times because she knows your mother likes to eat a sweet treat with her bitter coffee. Mr. Lee goes out of his way to fix faulty ceiling fans or kitchen drains when he has the time to spare your income. Minjun gives you drawings from her art classes that sit on your refrigerator. Integrating their life within yours feels natural. 
Heeseung has always been somebody you’ve looked up to, poised for success after deciding he loved singing enough to make a career out of it. The eight-year-old boy who loved to choreograph dance numbers to famous songs carries this humble beginning when he talks about what life might look like for him when he’s crossed the threshold that separates his life from now. 
It seemed as though Heeseung’s dream of becoming an idol never seemed too far out of reach, even if he had his moments where he felt like giving up. Things always worked out for him in ways nobody could explain, like moving to a new city because of his mother’s job and making friends within an hour of transferring to a new middle school. Or the time when he’d auditioned to train under a management company and hadn’t heard back from them for weeks–Heeseung prepared to stop giving himself false hope for his future as an idol until the fateful email sat at the top of his inbox, welcoming him to the company. 
Life was always easier on Heeseung than it was for everybody else. 
You don’t see him much between classes because he’s on a special path created for people who are like him. People who are destined to debut as an idol are given certain exemptions to ensure quality education while having enough time to train in all areas of performance art. It took a while for Heeseung to get used to his new life and the new routine set in place for him but you were always there to remind him that this is what he wants more than anything in the world. All of the stress and frustration that comes with change, no matter how brutal or unnerving, will be worth it when he sees his dream to the end. 
You’re a young adult at this point in your life but it feels like you’ve aged beyond your peers because of circumstance. Spending time at the Lee residence when your mom’s at work or visiting her friends prevents you from feeling as lonely as you do in between four white walls that barely feel like home without someone else in it. Growing up quicker than your peers feels like something expected of you. Oftentimes, you wish you could maintain childlike innocence as Heeseung does, dreaming so big and far that everything seems like a possibility if you dreamed hard enough. 
Watching him dance and hearing him sing feels like a reminder that there’s more to life than what you know. Your best friend is your confidant and the person you see yourself in the most. The boys and girls who befriend him because of his good looks and potential stardom don’t matter much to either of you when the promise of lifelong friendship looms in the future. You can’t imagine Heeseung not being in it. 
Mr. and Mrs. Lee sit at the dining table over a cup of post-dinner coffee while Minjun scrolls through her phone by the couch with a Netflix show you’ve never heard of on the television. Their soft murmurs have become a familiar background noise. You sit next to Minjun and peer over her shoulder. 
“I like these shoes a lot,” she tells you as she turns the phone for you to see. “All the girls in my grade are wearing these.” 
“Do you like them because you like them or because everyone else does?” 
She frowns. “What’s wrong with liking what other people like?” 
“Nothing, but if you’re going to buy flats just for them to sit in the back of your closet, that doesn’t seem like a good reason to have them.” 
Minjun has approached the age you’re all too familiar with. When you turned thirteen, the impending doom of fitting in hit you like a truck when you realized all of the girls in your grade had expensive clothes while you wore hand-me-downs from your cousins. Your backpack, which you had been using for three years because the straps weren’t broken, felt like a burden to carry when everybody else had pretty satchels. You felt juvenile in your too-worn sneakers and the two pairs of jeans you had sitting in your closet. But you were thirteen and your mother made enough money to make ends meet and put dinner on the table. Clothing and new school materials didn’t matter compared to eating before bed. 
Part of this insecurity has always followed you throughout childhood, especially when you were old enough to be aware of the fact that you were one of the few people in your grade who didn’t have a nuclear family. The kinds of families you’d see on the television didn’t exist in real life because while these programs taught its audiences the value of a good, stable home life, you’d been watching them alone while you waited for your mother to come home from work. There would be no dinner at the table with both of your parents because you knew there would be just her.
Watching Minjun grow up with two parents who dote on her feels bittersweet. It feels like watching a version of what could have been if only your father had chosen to stay in the picture instead of abandoning his family for a promising career in entertainment. Minjun’s petulance often reminds you that you were not privileged enough to have this kind of grace because of how rapidly your circumstances forced you to grow up faster than your peers did. 
There’s a small part of you that envies her life when you think about what yours could have been if he had stayed. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to watch your mother slave away at odd jobs to keep the lights on before finding a good, stable job after years of searching. Maybe you wouldn’t have felt so lonely in your adolescence because he’d take you to ice cream after school. Maybe the hollowness that remains inside of you would have been filled with joy and laughter on the holidays. 
“You’re right,” Minjun sighs, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Seri told me my outfit would’ve looked prettier if I wore these.” 
“People should keep their opinions to themselves.” 
Minjun nods. “Agreed.” 
Heeseung emerges from the kitchen a moment later and sits next to you on the couch. The dip in the cushion and his thigh being pressed against yours isn’t a new phenomenon, but the heat that creeps up your neck can’t be helped when he looks like a model from the corner of your eye. You swallow until your mouth feels dry to keep both Lee siblings from asking why you look like you’re about to explode. 
It’s easy to fall in love with Heeseung. All of the girls fawn over him already, a promising sign that Heeseung will likely be just fine when he debuts as an idol. He’s always been good with people and speaks in a way that makes people root for his success even if it was unintentional to begin with. He’s charming in a way that seems humble. Heeseung has a skill for making you feel like you are the only person in the room when he talks to you. You’re sure it’s why people feel drawn to him and why everybody loves being around Heeseung so much. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way. 
Sometimes, you grow envious of how easy it is for Heeseung to get people to like him. Career prospects aside, it’s almost as if he can convince anyone he’s somebody worth being friends with. Cashiers love him because he doesn’t make small talk awkward. He’s not afraid to talk to strangers and strike up a conversation with somebody while waiting for his coffee order. Heeseung is bashful enough to come across as sincere and it seems to reel people in. 
He inspires you in ways that you can’t fathom but simultaneously reminds you that you’ve got no future or prospect. It’s unfair to compare yourself to your best friend, but being in such close proximity where people praise him next to you are constant reminders that your life hasn’t begun and you don’t know if it ever will. Your life feels stagnant compared to his exciting one. While Heeseung spends his days and nights perfecting his dance techniques and vocal skills, you sit in your room and wonder what life would be like if you could touch the moon. 
There are days where you wish you could be as suave and charming as he can be. You feel awkward around people you don’t know and limit yourself to new experiences when it feels too intimidating. You’re not somebody who’s confident enough to start a conversation, let alone with somebody you aren’t familiar with. Where Heeseung excels in the socializing department, you find yourself playing catch-up every time you see him befriend yet another person you aren’t familiar with. It’s a wonder how you two became as close as you are.
Meeting him had been by chance. You knew him from friends of friends and saw him in the hallways between class periods but never had a reason to talk to him until the two of you were partnered for a class project. The newfound partnership felt oddly comfortable from the minute Heeseung introduced himself to you with that same charming smile everyone knows him to have. His wit and humor brewed the perfect potion for you to feel like caring for him as deeply as you do would become inevitable. It wasn’t a bet on if you would fall for him as hard as you did, but when. 
You’re inclined to believe you keep it hidden well. Heeseung is far too oblivious most times to see you as anything other than his best friend. You’ve treated him like a friend far longer than you’ve liked him romantically, so acting as if you don’t have feelings for him is easy when you remind yourself that having him in your life would be better than the alternative. Still, you have moments where you yearn to hold his hand and kiss him before he leaves for practice. 
“Do you want to come to the next showcase this weekend?” Heeseung asks, nudging your side with his elbow. You pry your attention away from Minjun’s phone to look at him. “It’s gonna be a small one in the company theater. There’s going to be a bunch of important people in the industry. Allegedly.” 
“Of course I’ll come, Heeseung. This is you we’re talking about. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 
The smile he gives you is blinding. 
“I really appreciate you supporting me, you know that? I don’t say it often, but I should. Thank you for always supporting me.” 
Your heart bursts. 
“I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t do at least that,” you tell him. 
“My parents and Minjun are gonna be there too so you won’t be alone.” He smiles at you like he knew you were worried about who to sit with, let alone if there’s going to be important people that could determine Heeseung’s career. 
“Thanks,” you mumble, an overwhelming feeling of shyness overtaking you. “It’s silly that you have to look out for me all the time.” 
“No, not silly,” he says immediately, pushing his head to your shoulder. You don’t imagine this position is very comfortable for him, but Heeseung seems keen on staying in this position. “We’re kids, Y/N. You don’t need to have your life together. I’ll always look out for you and walk you through it if that’s what you need.” 
You sigh. “You know, one day, you’re going to become so famous that you’ll inevitably be too busy for me.”
Heeseung shakes his head. “No I won’t. Who checks up on me every day after practice? Who do I come to when I need to cry? Who do I invite to my home when I’m not even here?”
“Technically, your parents invite me over when you’re not here.” 
Heeseung pinches your thigh. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re not getting rid of me. It’s like, scientifically impossible to separate the two of us.” 
“Thanks, Hee.” You feel him nod against you before he lifts his head from your shoulder. “I just feel like I get in my own head sometimes. You know what you want to do for the rest of your life and I barely know what I want for breakfast tomorrow.” 
“We don’t always have to figure it out. I know saying that feels like bullshit because I’m training to become an idol but I’m serious. There are so many people we know who don’t know what they’re doing with their lives.” 
“It feels like my life could very well be over.”
“You’re being dramatic.” 
You make a face at him. “I know.” 
“You’ll find something for you, okay? You’re barely an adult anyway. You still have college and all of that shit to figure it out.” 
“You’re right.” 
“As always.” 
“Don’t push it, Heeseung.”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
Mr. and Mrs. Lee drive you to the showcase. They pick you up and the four of you have a quick dinner before heading over to the company’s theater and you feel somewhat like an important industry person when you’re given a badge with ‘VIP’ on it to signify that you’re part of the family and friends entourage. You see a group of people with clipboards and pens at the ready, dressed like they’ve just come from important meetings that determine the futures of each trainee. Perhaps that’s who they are. Some of these well-dressed individuals have younger people standing beside them, presumably assistants or something as such. 
It feels very formal and you’re wondering if the long skirt and long sleeve top you’re wearing is too childish. Everybody who looks important seems to be donning suits or dresses that make them look like they stepped out of a drama show. It doesn’t matter how many times you remind yourself that you’re young and not here to mingle with corporate executives. You still feel like the floor should swallow you whole and spit you out with a new wardrobe that matches everyone else’s. 
Heeseung’s parents chat with a few people they recognize and leave you and Minjun to fend for yourselves (or, rather, it feels that way). The young girl beside you hooks her arm with yours when you’ve been quiet for a moment too long and starts to lead you down the aisles. 
“Everyone in here looks so stuffy,” she whispers. “People working in entertainment should look like they’re having fun.” 
“I feel a little silly in this skirt,” you admit.
“You look great,” Minjun tells you as she bumps your hip with hers. “My mom made me wear this stupid dress that I can barely breathe in.” 
“I happen to think you look very cute, Minnie.” 
“But I don’t want to look cute,” she whines quietly. “I want to look like an adult.” 
“Yeah, well you can look like an adult when you are one. For now, just be happy that somebody finds you cute enough to do things for you.” 
Minjun wants to argue but doesn’t. In the time that she’s known you, there hasn’t been a reason for her to distrust anything you say to her because you’ve never had a reason to lie. It’s why she’s likely to listen to you over her own brother, a fact that Heeseung holds a mild grudge over. 
“I guess you’re right. I can’t even drive. I need people to drive me places.” 
You stifle a laugh. “Yeah, driving can be a pain sometimes. Enjoy your youth while you have it, okay?” Minjun rolls her eyes in a way that lets you know she’s joking. Being outwardly affectionate doesn’t seem to run in the Lee sibling genes, but you’d like to think you know them well enough to tell when they’re being genuine.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.” 
You try to tell yourself that, too. When everybody finds their seats and when the showcase begins, you’re in awe of how many talented people there are in the room when you hear their incredible vocal abilities and make performing in front of a crowd look easy. It’s easy to spot Heeseung when he’s dancing with a group of people you’ve never seen before. He always looks as if he’s floating on air, moving his body in ways you can’t fathom and he makes learning difficult choreography seem like a walk in the park. You’ve heard him sing before but not to this extent. The steady tone he delivers when he dances amazes you beyond comprehension and Minjun would later swear that she saw stars in your eyes when you watched her brother perform like this for the first time. 
What Heeseung neglected to tell you was that he secured a solo spot after months of impressing his coaches. He performs one of his favorite songs and moves across the stage like he was always meant to be dancing on it. From here, Heeseung looks like a celestial being with the lights cascading down his body. You hold your breath the entire time he sings on that stage and clap the loudest when everybody gives him a standing ovation. You peek to the side to see the same, stuffy executives nodding after his performance and write down things on their clipboards that you can only hope are praises and nothing but. 
Heeseung’s parents make their way to the front of the stage when the house lights turn on. They talk to people you don’t recognize and you find yourself following them instead of looking like an awkward mess, as everybody else has chosen to stand from their seats and greet the performers that have come out from backstage. 
Your best friend looks magnificent with his makeup and the outfit he last performed in. He looks like a real idol in this light and pride swells within your chest when people applaud him for his incredible performance before he reaches you. His smile turns bigger when he sees you and Minjun approaching him behind his parents and makes his way to engulf you in a hug. 
“You’re here,” he breathes. 
“I’d always said I’d be here for you, didn’t I?”
“I think this was the most important showcase of my life.” 
It would be hard to ignore Heeseung’s arm wrapped around your waist like he’s done it a thousand times before. It’s true that the two of you aren’t strangers to physical touch, but he never lingers on you like he is now. Still, you chalk it up to overflowing happiness and you can sense that Heeseung is genuinely pleased with himself. He isn’t pretending that he performed well like he does when he avoids going home after practice in lieu of spending time with you in your mother’s apartment. 
“You’re fucking incredible,” Minjun praises. 
“Language,” Heeseung chides, removing his arm from your waist to pinch her cheek. “Thank you for coming too. Where are eomma and appa?” 
Minjun points to where they are. “I think they were waiting for you to come out and started talking to the coaches.” 
“We should make our way there.” 
“You should,” you tell him, pushing Heeesung towards his parents. “I’ll be here when you’re done.” 
“Nonsense.” Heeseung shakes his head and grabs your wrist as best as he can with multiple bodies trying to squeeze past the three of you. 
When Heeseung pulls you away, you’re sure to grab onto Minjun’s hand so she doesn’t get lost in a sea of people either. Mr. and Mrs. Lee beam when they see their son approaching and Heeseung drops your wrist in favor of being smothered with affection by his parents. You can tell he feels embarrassed to be doted on in front of his peers because of how his ears are turning red, but you sit back and laugh with Minjun when she points it out loud. 
You let them talk and watch as people clad in business attire approach Heeseung and his parents. You're not sure if Heeseung knows them or not but he smiles and shakes their hands, going so far as to bow to their assistants as well. He talks to them like he’s been in this business for decades, making people laugh and remaining as humble as ever when people praise his performance skill. You’re not sure how Heeseung handles all of this attention and praise at the same time, or even what it must feel like to be talented enough to have people approach you. 
As you observe everybody else, it’s clear that Heeseung is the star of tonight’s showcase. The other performers did a fantastic job as well, but something about your best friend draws executives to him, and you’re sure everyone who hasn’t spoken to Heeseung is waiting for their turn. It feels exhausting to watch people socialize. You can only guess how exhausted Heeseung might be. 
Minjun joins her parents a little while later at their request, leaving you alone for the time being. You pull your phone out and text your mom that you’re still at the showcase and will let her know when Mr. and Mrs. Lee drive you back to the apartment. You use this as an excuse to look busy, replying to a few friends that you didn’t have time to respond to before coming to the showcase. But those conversations are dry and leave you without a distraction. 
“Y/N, come here!” 
Heeseung calls your name and your head snaps to where he’s standing. He beckons you over with a wave and you awkwardly waddle to where he’s standing. His family aren’t with him and you wonder just how long you’ve been looking at your phone for. 
“This is my best friend, Y/N,” Heeseung says as he pulls you closer to him. “Y/N, meet Kim Namjoon. He’s the president and founder of Big Hit.”
“It’s lovely to meet you.” The bow is almost automatic and you’re sure to put on a good first impression to help any reputation Heeseung has with Namjoon. You bow at an angle that’s deeper than a common greeting but just shy of ninety-degrees. 
Namjoon returns in kind. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Heeseung’s a talented one, isn’t he?” 
“He’s the best at what he does,” you say earnestly. “I’ve never seen anybody work as hard as him in my entire life. Pardon if I’m overstepping, but I think Big Hit is incredibly lucky to have him.” 
He laughs at your politeness. “I feel the same. It’s not every day you come across someone who’s skilled at, well, everything.” 
“You know, when Heeseung and I were younger, we had this ongoing joke that he could master anything on the first try. I think it’s what makes him special, you know?”
“Guys, please don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Heeseung whines. His cheeks are red but both you and Namjoon laugh in good fun.
“There’s a reason why I chose Heeseung to be tonight’s soloist,” Namjoon informs. “This showcase is meant for people in the industry and if I’m being honest with you, I think you’ll be getting good remakes on your review.” 
Heeseung beams. “Wow…I don’t know what to say.”
“He says ‘thank you,’” you answer for him. “I can’t imagine what training must be like but I do know that all of it has paid off. Thank you for giving Heeseung a chance to prove himself.” 
There’s a glint in Namjoon’s eye. 
“Have you ever considered working in publicity?” Namjoon asks you. 
“No, why do you ask?”
“I think you’d have a real talent for it.” Namjoon says it in a way that feels too casual for a showcase, especially if he’s the one in charge of the company Heeseung is training under. “You speak well for Heeseung.” 
“Oh…thank you.” 
He turns to Heeseung and claps him on the back. “There’s more to being an idol than training and performing. You need people who know you and know the business. It’s important to make your career thrive because you can be the most talented person in the world, but if you don’t have the right people around you, none of that will matter.” 
Heeseung nods. “Y/N’s always been my champion.” 
“I can see.” Namjoon smiles at you. “Entertainment is not for the faint of heart and there’s more to it than being photographed. You need to be in the right places at the right time and know the right people who can get you there. That’s what publicity does for you. Y/N’s already doing it and she’s not working in entertainment yet.” 
Somehow, his words feel comforting. “I haven’t thought about what I want to do with my life but that seems like something I could do.” 
“It’s important work. Heeseung can perform the shit out of his solo but it doesn’t mean anything if he has nowhere to perform it.” 
Namjoon smiles at the both of you before his name is being called from behind him. 
“Great job on your solo, Heeseung.” He turns to you. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” He bows once more to the both of you before departing. 
“I feel like I’m buzzing,” Heeseung says as he puts an arm loosely around you. “It was like I was the only person in the room when I was performing, you know? The dance with the other guys was amazing and all of that but I feel like I was on another level when it was just me up there.” 
“You were incredible, Hee. I mean that. I don’t know a single person more talented than you.” 
Heeseung smiles down at you. 
“You know, it means a lot that you come to see me. Sometimes I wonder if people talk to me because they know I’m training to become an idol but you never make me feel like that. It feels natural and genuine. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, thanks.” 
You push him away from you, a giddy smile tugging on the edge of your lips. Heeseung is affectionate but less so in his vocabulary, choosing to tease you because it’s his way of letting you know he cares for you. Hearing him be so open and vulnerable tugs at your heartstrings and it makes you feel like you could achieve anything. 
“I’ll always be here for you, remember? You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
Heeseung’s life changes for the better after the night of the showcase when Namjoon tells him he’s secured a debut spot underneath their brand new label, Belift. Happiness flows within the Lee household and you’re nearly in tears when you realize all your best friend has worked for has finally paid off. 
But with it comes uncertainty and your fears are slowly becoming a reality when Heeseung stops talking to you as frequently as he used to. 
It comes with the job and you’re more than aware of how much Heeseung has on his plate between preparing for his debut and trying to fit in with the industry. You can’t imagine what life must be like for him now that his dream is just a few weeks away of becoming a reality but part of you wonders if it’s too difficult for him to keep you hanging on a leash. 
He calls his parents and Minjun as often as he gets. You know because Minjun swings by your mother’s apartment with Mrs. Lee on Saturday mornings to drop off baked goods, updating you on the latest she’s heard from her older brother. You try your best to quell your jealousy because they’re his family after all, but part of you feels like you have a right to call yourself his family too after all he said to you during the night of the showcase and all you’ve done for him. 
You’re sure Mr. and Mrs. Lee can sense it too. Heeseung no longer lives at home, having moved into his own dorm in the heart of Seoul, thirty minutes from you. You aren’t a stranger to their household without his presence but you’ve gradually stopped coming by unless Minjun calls you from Mrs. Lee’s phone to ask you to hang out. 
Texts and calls slowly diminish with his new line of work. You went from hearing from him every day to every other day, to nothing at all.
Seeing the blue delivered messages without any indication that he’s acknowledged you, makes you feel like a second priority. But you don’t know if you get the right to feel like this when you know how busy he is and the weight of his debut. Heeseung’s got one shot to make a good first impression and the last thing you want is to distract him from achieving his childhood dream of being a successful idol. 
Still, the silence stings.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
Heeseung knows you’re waiting on him and ignores the pit in the bottom of his stomach that tells him to text you back. 
His new life has changed in ways he couldn’t fathom. When Namjoon told him the news about his debut and all of the details surrounding it, Heeseung felt as if the weight of the world was no longer a burden for him to carry, and that all he has ever wanted would eventually come to fruition. His new friends, namely the three guys around his age who have trained to become musicians, are people he gets along with more than he thought he would. Heeseung’s newfound excitement about the next chapter of his life takes him to new heights and he finds himself spending more time with Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon as they prepare for the debut showcase. 
Heeseung knows you’re waiting for him back at home but it’s so hard to focus on you when he’s wrapped up in his new life. Making time to see you is hard enough as it is and he knows you’re as patient as can be. In the years he’s been friends with you, Heeseung knows that your resilience knows no bounds and all that you’ve experienced in your lifetime has built the strong-willed, confident person he knows you to be. 
But his new life gets him caught up in the feeling of the present success. The three guys have known each other far longer than Heeseung has known them, only greeting each other in passing since all four of them were training in different areas of performance art. It wasn’t until they were living together that Heeseung started befriending them beyond practice and rehearsals. Jake’s the one who includes Heeseung the most on group outings or spending time playing video games in the living room. His entire life he’s been alone or with just you, seldom having a group of guys who just gets him. 
Heeseung tucks away the nagging feeling in the back of his head when he and Jay are preparing a meal for the four of them when he sees a text from you. 
hey hee, are you busy right now? it’s been a while since we hung out and i thought it would be nice to go get boba, or something. my treat !! <3
He shoves his phone in his back pocket before Jay can notice him staring at the screen. The message goes unanswered for the rest of the night as he basks in the company of his friends-slash-coworkers, the thought of getting boba with you far removed from his mind. Playing video games and getting to know the people he’ll likely be working with for the foreseeable future takes precedent. It’s what Heeseung keeps telling himself. 
After a while, the guilt no longer eats him alive. You’re busy focusing on graduating and preparing to attend university in the fall while he’s made his debut with his newfound best friends. It’s no surprise to anyone that Heeseung’s fanbase grows at a nearly alarming rate after he makes his debut. He grows popular with each day that passes and it feels like Heeseung has become the face of the newest generation overnight. 
He’ll wonder what you’re up to from time to time and let you know how he’s doing. Heeseung first sends a text to apologize, lying about not seeing your text sooner and that he’d love to get boba with you when he has the time. You tell him not to worry because you know he’s busy. He texts you pictures of his first performance and scenic pictures of the cities he visits because of his travel and promotion schedule. You update him on the end of the school year and how your mother is dealing with you moving away for college. 
The texts become sparse as the two of you resume your separate lives and Heeseung doesn’t realize that you don’t text him until the day of your graduation–the day that he was supposed to graduate if he hadn’t deferred to the trainee program–wishing him well and that you’re thinking of him. You send a video of yourself pulling your tassel over the graduation cap and he feels nothing for the lost time when he’s on his way to promote his first album overseas.
It’s for my career, he tells himself when he realizes how much time has passed since he thought of you. I’m doing what’s best for me and everybody else needs to get used to it.
It isn’t until Heeseung is permitted a few days off that he comes home per his parents’ request. He doesn’t tell them that he’s a bit homesick even though his dorm is a thirty minute drive, but it feels oceans away when his days are packed from morning until night. He tells his parents about his travels and what kinds of food he’s been eating when he’s overseas. Heeseung gifts Minjun all of the trinkets and souvenirs he bought from his time promoting his album, and what his future holds for him when he returns to his life as an idol. Mr. and Mrs. Lee applaud their son’s hard work, yet they can’t help but feel like there’s a piece of a puzzle missing because you aren’t here to celebrate with them. 
You make a visit at Minjun’s request. When you arrive, you’re stunned to learn that Heeseung is back at home and only has the evening until he needs to return to work. Heeseung can see the disappointment that festers in your eyes and the way your shoulder droops as you smile at him for his family’s sake, although he knows it’s false bravado because your grin doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
 He leads you upstairs to his bedroom when Mr. Lee insists that the two of you spend some time together after not having seen each other in ages. It feels awkward to be in his childhood bedroom with the door just slightly ajar at this moment, but it isn’t anything completely new.
What is new, however, is seeing that you’ve dyed your hair a different color and that you’ve gotten your ears pierced.
“You look good,” he says, lifting his hand to toy with the end of your hair. “It matches your skin tone nicely.” 
“Thanks.” 
“Did you do it recently? It looks fresh.” 
You don’t note that Heeseung also has a different hair color than his natural jet black. 
“Two weeks ago. My cousin did it for me.” 
He nods. “Nice. It looks good. I see that you’re wearing necklaces too.” 
“Yeah. I decided it was time to stop being a child and get it over with.”
“You know, you don’t have to do things if you don’t want to.” You throw a pointed look at Heeseung and it’s an expression he’s unfamiliar with. 
“I know. But I like earrings and that’s why I wanted to get them pierced.” 
Heeseung wipes his hand on his pants at the awkward tension in the room. He knows he’s to blame. His schedule and priorities have pulled him away from you and the life he’s built prior to debuting, but can anyone blame him? Can anyone blame him for not being able to balance his life when he’s been given the keys to a new empire? 
“Well, it was nice seeing you.” You throw a cheap smile in his direction and motion to open the door until Heeseung grabs your wrist, causing you to turn around. 
“You’re leaving?” 
“Yeah,” you nod. “You have an early day tomorrow.” 
Heeseung sharks his head. “It’s fine. I don’t have to be back in Seoul until ten anyway. I’ve missed you and I want to spend time with you before I absolutely have to fall asleep.” 
You scoff. “That’s real funny, Heeseung. You missed me but all of my texts and calls go unanswered.”
He frowns. “You know that I’m busy most days.” 
“And nights?” 
“I’m with the guys back at the dorm.” 
You poke your cheek with your tongue. 
“See, I would know all of this if you bothered to talk to me at all but it sees that your new life is treating you just fine.” 
You make another move to leave his room but he closes the door, startling you with the loud noise. He apologizes quietly and uses his body to block you from leaving for the time being. 
“I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy between promotion and rehearsal that it’s hard to keep track of who I keep up with and who I don’t.” 
“You’re talking to me like I’ve never seen you cry before,” you say with a disappointed sigh. “You act like I’m somebody you once knew in a past life.” 
“Not true. You’re my best friend.” 
“Best friends would bother to talk to each other. You know that, right? I don’t exist just so you can pick and choose when you need somebody to talk to. It makes me feel like you don’t actually care about me, Heeseung. It makes me feel like you’ve ever cared about our friendship unless you needed a shoulder to cry on and I was the first person who would listen to you.”
“That’s not true. I’m just busy.”
“I get that, I really do. But it’s been months, Heeseung. I know that I can’t have your attention all the time and I know I can’t see you as often as I did. But would it kill you to let me know you’re alive? The only time I hear about you is when other people talk about you or when I see you on billboards. That doesn’t feel like a friendship to me.”
His fists ball at his side and his frustration surfaces. Heeseung is frustrated at everyone–himself for being unable to say ‘no’ to his new friends, you for expecting so much of him, and his company for keeping him as busy as he is. But he doesn’t know how to communicate that, not when you’re standing in front of him, looking like he’s the villain in your life when he feels like he’s not. 
“Well that’s life, Y/N,” Heeseung settles. “Sometimes we need to learn when to prioritize things over others.” 
You laugh humorlessly. “Is that the hill you’re going to die on? You’re too busy to send a simple text back or let me know that you’re, I don’t know, okay?”
“You can’t be a priority all the time.”
“I know that. I’m not asking you to drop everything for me just because I called you. I’m asking you to treat me like somebody you care about, Heeseung. Is that too much to ask?” 
The anger Heeseung feels within him feels misplaced, but your inability to hear him about makes him even angrier. It’s unfair for you to demand such things of him when he’s pursuing everything he’s ever dreamed of.
“Yes, it is too much to ask,” Heeseung bites back. “You don’t understand the gravity of what I do for a living and it’s hard to appreciate it when you’re breathing down my neck. God, when did you become such a clingy person, Y/N? The world doesn’t revolve around you and I don’t owe you shit just because you can’t handle that I’m busier than you are.” 
“You’re kidding me, right?” 
“I’m being dead serious.” Heeseung steps away from the door. “You of all people know how badly I want this and now it’s like you’re not letting me enjoy what I’ve worked for. What kind of friend does that make you?” 
The words tumble out of his mouth before he can catch them. His need to be the victim in an uncertain period of his life causes him to misdirect his frustration with adapting to his new life and the proof is written all over your face. 
“Y/N, I didn’t mean–”
“Don’t,” you say sharply. “Just don’t.”
Frozen, Heeseung watches you open his door with such force that it nearly slams into him. He’s quick on his feet to follow you downstairs where he sees his family looking perplexed when you’ve opened the front door without saying goodbye. 
“Y/N, I didn’t mean it!” Heesueng yells when you’ve crossed the threshold of his household. “Please come back inside.”
“You made it very clear that I have no place in your new life. Congratulations, I hope you’re happy.” 
You walk away while the deep feelings of disappointment and uncertainty settles in Heeseung’s chest. He walks back inside and closes the door behind him to see Minjun and his parents in a deep stupor, trying to make sense of the scene that has just unfolded before them. 
“What happened?” Mrs. Lee asks. 
“Y/N and I…” his voice cracks. “I don’t think we’re friends anymore.” 
The room is silent, save for the ticking of the wall clock. 
“Maybe it’s for the best,” Minjun says without a smile. 
Heeseung wants to tell her that she’s wrong and whatever conversation they must’ve heard was a product of two friends having their first serious argument. Heeseung’s own frustrations towards his new life is something he doesn’t talk about often because he’s worked so hard to become the person he is, and it would be ungrateful to complain about what he has yearned for his entire life. It bottled up so much that hearing you accuse him of being a poor friend caused him to unravel and say things he doesn’t mean. 
Mrs. Lee beats him to speaking.
“Don’t say that, Minjun.” 
The young girl remains quiet and refuses to meet Heeseung’s eye.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
In the few years that follow, you resist rolling your eyes when you see Heeseung’s face in magazine ads and billboards across the city. Life takes you to university where you spend the next four years deciding on the rest of your life before you settle on something everybody said you’d be good at. 
Graduation approaches far sooner than you’d like and it becomes bittersweet when you see the Lee family, sans Heeseung, in the stadium next to your mom, who are all equally shedding tears as your name is called. Heeseung being absent feels hollow, like another reminder that people choose to leave your life without a moment’s notice but for the sake of keeping up appearances, you smile at the camera when you accept your diploma. 
It’s not a surprise to you when you find yourself working in entertainment like Kim Namjoon said you could all those years ago. 
A job is a job, but he was right when he told you this would be something you’d excel at. Day in and day out, your responsibilities differ as you begin working at Hybe, formerly Big Hit, to manage the profiles and public appearances of idols and other public figures alike. 
Heeseung doesn’t hear from you much. His parents update him on your coursework and send him photos of you at graduation. He cries every so often when he feels the urge to call you and tell you about his day, but doesn’t know whether he has the right to do that anymore. The years in his position has taught him what true life balance is, especially with the media and paparazzi taking an interest in his personal life. 
It feels so exhausting to have nobody you can depend on. These days, it’s just him and the three boys he met at the beginning of his career. Heeseung’s popularity has grown so much that he can’t tell up from down. It drowns him in a way he never anticipated and the politics of fame and the industry wasn’t something he accounted for when he began dreaming about a career in the performance space. 
Perhaps it’s why he spends his days feeling listless, like he’s got no real potential after achieving his dream. He knows his managers worry for his health and that the other trainees in the building can sense something has been off for a while. Maybe it’s why he roams the halls with headphones on to drown out the noise that’s become his everyday life, with talks of meetings and promotions and everything Heeseung wishes to get away from, if for only one day.
When Heeseung bumps into somebody on his way out of the company elevator, his first instinct is to lean down to collect the papers that have fallen haphazardly on the floor. He pushes his headphones until they rest around his neck and stands to hand them back to the person he bumped into. Only, he feels his body freeze when he sees who it is. 
Like Heeseung has always believed, if you really love someone, they will always come back to you. 
“Y/N?”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚ 
potential part two ft. the rest of enha … this was a therapy piece lol
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚ 
taglist: @enha-stars @karinasbaby @baevsxii @lillotus17 @syzavxy @mrmld @nikilvrfvr @luvyev @notevenheretbh1 @wvnkoi @seungiesgf @kgneptun @judeduartewannabe @iheartjayke @wonsbubble @ilyjxdz @foggysfrog @oddracha @haechansbbg @tobiosbbyghorl @ryunjin0 @sharksandminhos @jungwoneez @alex-is-sleeping @minjaexvz @woninluv @engeneeee-168 @friendlyuser57 @moony-mari @trdhgg @sleepyhoon @sunghoonsgfreal @i02hoonz @riksaes @021894s @zeeloveshee @jwnghyuns @vhuteryh @cloudiesblog @awsome209 @fleurixzs @xiaoderrrr @marshwatz @aeripark0703 @bambangan @papichulomacy .
apologies to all tumblr wouldn't tag. :)
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mcgrammar04 · 2 months
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A PROMISE IN THE DARK
Aegon Targaryen x Reader
Summary: After enduring relentless cruelty from your family and betrothed, Aegon Targaryen, you break down one night, revealing the depth of your suffering. Aegon, moved by your pain, vows to protect and care for you. He exiles your abusive family and forces them to apologize, marking the start of your healing journey.
You lived in a world of silence, a place where your voice had long been stolen by the cruelty of those meant to protect you. Your family’s abuse had silenced you so thoroughly that you could only communicate through your eyes and your silent tears. The betrothal to Aegon Targaryen was supposed to be a chance for a new beginning, but instead, it became a new source of torment.
Aegon, with his royal air and a crown that should have symbolized justice, became a new tormentor in your already painful existence. He found cruel amusement in your silence, often mocking you in front of others. His words were like daggers, each one aimed at the heart of your already fragile sense of self-worth.
"You know, it’s quite amusing," Aegon would sneer, his eyes glinting with malice, "how you choose not to speak. It must be quite a skill to pretend to be so superior just by keeping your mouth shut."
His jabs were relentless. His laughter echoed through the halls of the castle, a constant reminder that your suffering was entertainment for him. Each day, you tried to shield yourself from his barbs, but they were like relentless arrows, piercing through your defenses.
The nights were the worst. When the castle’s corridors fell silent, you would sit alone in your room, clutching a faded piece of fabric that once belonged to your mother. It was the only remnant of the warmth and love you had known before your family’s abuse drove you into this cruel new reality.
Your family’s abuse had been systematic, a steady erosion of your spirit. They had isolated you, belittled you, and made you feel as though you were nothing more than a burden. They had taken away your voice, your confidence, and most painfully, your sense of belonging. When Aegon came into your life, it was meant to be a rescue, a chance to escape the shadows of your past. Instead, he became a new source of pain, a mirror reflecting all the harshness you had endured.
But there were moments, rare and fleeting, when Aegon’s gaze softened, when his cruelty was replaced by something like curiosity. It was on one such evening that you felt the strain of your silent existence come to a breaking point. The castle’s grand hall was filled with laughter and conversation, a stark contrast to the oppressive quiet of your own life. Aegon had been in particularly high spirits that night, mocking you with a cruel jest that drew laughter from his courtiers.
“Do you not think you’re depriving yourself of so much by remaining silent?” Aegon’s voice rang out. “How can you bear to miss all this? Perhaps your silence is the result of some deep-seated fear, or maybe you simply enjoy being the center of everyone’s attention through your absence of words.”
The jest was met with laughter, and you felt the familiar flush of humiliation. But tonight, something inside you snapped. The weight of his words, the weight of your family’s cruelty, the weight of your own isolation, all crashed down upon you. You felt as though you were drowning in a sea of despair, and you couldn’t hold on any longer.
As Aegon continued his mocking, you felt a tight knot of emotion form in your chest. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and you could no longer hold back the tears. You collapsed onto the cold stone floor, your body shaking uncontrollably. The laughter of the courtiers faded into a distant murmur as the overwhelming sensation of pain and sorrow consumed you.
Aegon’s laughter died abruptly as he saw you break down. For the first time, he was confronted with the full extent of your suffering. His eyes widened in shock, the cruel mask slipping away to reveal a flicker of concern. He knelt beside you, his usual arrogance replaced by a raw, genuine emotion.
“What is happening?” Aegon’s voice was softer now, tinged with something like fear. “Why are you—”
The words caught in your throat, unable to escape past the storm of emotions. You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears. It was then that Aegon saw not just your silent suffering but the story behind it, the profound depth of your pain. The realization of what he had been complicit in hit him with a crushing force.
Aegon took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I didn’t know,” he murmured, his voice filled with a newfound understanding. “I never realized...”
He helped you to your feet with a tenderness that was foreign to him. The harshness in his gaze had been replaced by a solemn determination. “I am truly sorry,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t understand the depth of your suffering. I never meant for you to be subjected to this. I promise you, I will make it right.”
The promise was more than words; it was a vow of change. Aegon’s eyes were filled with a mixture of guilt and resolve. “You will be cared for and protected,” he continued, his tone firm. “And as for your family, they will face justice. They will be held accountable for their cruelty.”
You could scarcely believe the transformation in Aegon. The man who had once mocked you now seemed genuinely committed to making amends. He left the chamber, his footsteps echoing with purpose as he began to set things in motion.
In the days that followed, Aegon kept his word. Your family was summoned to the castle, their expressions a mix of fear and defiance. When they arrived, they were forced to kneel before you in the grand hall, their arrogance stripped away by the gravity of their situation.
“Beg for forgiveness,” Aegon commanded, his voice resonating with authority. “You will apologize for every moment of pain you’ve inflicted. Only then will you face the consequences of your actions.”
Your family’s once imperious demeanor crumbled as they knelt before you, their faces contorted with shame and fear. They begged for your forgiveness, their pleas echoing through the hall. Aegon’s gaze remained steely as he observed the scene, his resolve unwavering.
“From this day forth,” Aegon declared, “you will be exiled from everything you have ever known. You will live in isolation, removed from the society you once dominated. It is the least you deserve for the suffering you have caused.”
As your family was led away, you felt a mixture of relief and sorrow. The justice served was necessary, but it came at a cost. The wounds of the past would take time to heal, but with Aegon’s newfound understanding and commitment, there was a glimmer of hope for the future.
In the quiet that followed, Aegon approached you once more. His demeanor had softened, and there was a genuine compassion in his eyes. “You have suffered too much,” he said gently. “I promise that from now on, I will be your protector. I will ensure that you are loved and cared for, and that no one will ever hurt you again.”
The sincerity in his voice offered a fragile hope. Though the path ahead would be difficult, Aegon’s pledge to protect and cherish you gave you a new reason to believe in a brighter future. The journey to healing was just beginning, but for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find solace and a new sense of belonging in the midst of this tumultuous world.
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An Accidental Haunting
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Astrid Deetz x Ghost!Reader
Summary- After your daily stroll through the cemetery to pass the time, you overhear a conversation between Astrid and her mother. Fearing that she would do something terrible to herself, you follow her home and make sure to keep her safe.
Warnings- Reader was m*urdered, specifics about readers death and markings, Su*cide mentions, mentions of death and the afterlife.
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Your afterlife had been relatively uneventful since your death. It had been 12 years since you died, and you had a pretty good routine down now. After you check on your parents you would go to the cemetery and talk to the wandering spirits there. Often times you were a comfortable distraction to their sorrows.
Currently there was a funeral going on and you pretended to blend into the background, hiding behind the group of living people. Your outfit stuck out more than you'd like. An old AC/DC shirt and green flannel overtop of black ripped jeans. Thinking back, you should've dressed nicer for your final moments alive.
The funeral in question was for a "Charles Deetz", which you had heard of before, having been a part of the family that lived in the famous Ghost House. He had been eaten alive by a shark, which seemed pretty gnarly. You were only partially listening to his widowed wife Deelia droning on about how much she couldn't live without him. By the end of the speech, she was pulled aside and talked about how she couldn't wait to form an art piece around her suffering. Thats when you decided you had heard enough and began to roam around the cemetery again.
Astrid sat far away from the group after the funeral had dispersed. Her head was tilted towards the dirt, and she had a deep scowl on her lips. Clearly this man had meant a lot to her and her family, so naturally you felt bad and walked a bit closer.
Lydia came over to comfort her daughter and sat beside her. She looked over at Astrid in silence before speaking up quietly. "Death is hard"
Astrid responded emotionlessly, not making eye contact with the woman beside her. "Yeah, sometimes I think life is harder"
Your eyes widened and you took a step back, shocked by her response. It's not that you didn't agree with her to some extent, it was just different hearing it from someone else. After a moment of the world moving without you, you finally snapped out of it to see them both walking back home and quickly followed.
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Their house was crowded with people, all talking to each other with frowns. Mourning had always been an odd concept for you to understand. It was even odd during your own funeral. Comforting people was easy enough because they all wanted to hear the same things. "You'll be alright, this sadness will pass", "They're in a better place now, it's good that they're not in pain anymore". It was all a routine you used to comfort people both in life and death.
Being a psychic yourself, you felt as if it was your responsibility to help people both living and deceased, even after you had died. Now was your mission to help Astrid. She was a stranger, yes, but you just couldn't help yourself for some reason.
Astrid sat at one of the tables away from the crowd, mindlessly twirling a tassel on the end of the tablecloth. She clearly didn't want to hear the routine speeches you had on the tip of your tongue, so you stood away and just simply watched to make sure she was alright.
A frown graced your lips as time ticked by seemingly without change before she finally made her way into the kitchen. There was luckily no one hanging around in there when Astrid eyed the knife on the countertop. After a deep breath, she reached out to grab it. This certainly wasn't how you expected her to end her life, especially since there was a crowd outside.
Without thinking you leaped forward and swatted the knife out of her hand. It imbedded itself into the plaster and you smirked, proud of your work.
She stared at it with wide eyes before groaning, clearly more annoyed than spooked. Her day was already hard enough and now she was imagining things. Prying the knife out of the wall proved futile and she closed her eyes, plopping down in the chair with defeat. All she wanted right not was to make a simple meal, but the world seemed to be against her.
A short laugh echoed through the room and her head shot up, searching for the source of it. Was she hearing things now too?
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Days had passed with your attempts to save her life.
Astrid grabbed a rope to hang the skeleton for Halloween and it kept falling from the rafter 'mysteriously'.
Another time, she went to the attic to grab a box of heavy photo albums, piled up so high that she couldn't see past them. You graciously knocked the top ones off so she could see better. Yet another inconvenience and strange occurrence in this house, but Astrid continued to ignore it and just picked up the books after she had placed the box on the floor.
One time the gas on the stove kept turning off whenever she would turn away to grab an ingredient.
Eventually she had had enough of the house, her mother getting remarried, the death of her grandfather. She felt stifled and had to get away, so she went to the only place that felt normal to her anymore. She had a date with Jeremy that night anyway.
You watched her leave with a groan, tossing your hands in the air to no avail as she still couldn't see you. "Him, really? He's a murderer!" you cupped your hands around your mouth to yell, only gaining the attention of an elderly deceased lady walking by the end of the street. you laughed awkwardly and returned to the house. Thankfully you couldn't show embarrassment with no blood rushing through your veins.
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You had decided not to follow her on her date, not wanting to be seen as some sort of stalker. Sadly, you soon regretted that as time ticked by. It felt like years as you waited in the house for her to return. The nicknacks on her desk kept you entertained for the time being, but you were quickly getting bored again as you walked to her bookshelf.
Halloween used to be your favorite holiday. Yet looking outside now and watching the trick or treaters smile and live their lives made you grow more depressed than you'd like to admit.
You could go out there, but you had a mission to save Astrids life and you needed to be here when she returned. You could never forgive yourself if she died.
If you were alive, your feet would have ached with how much pacing you were doing. The book you had taken from the shelf was about morbid and unsolved deaths throughout the United States, which did pique your interest at least.
The door to her bedroom swung open and Astrid stood in the doorway wearing her Marie Curie dress which was absolutely covered in dirt and decay. You couldn't help but smile at seeing her alive still, while her eyes widened comically and raked over your entire figure meticulously. Your smile soon dropped as you finally noticed the state she was in.
"I could've told you he was bad news" You shrugged your shoulders, trying to ease the awkwardness with conversation. The silence between you two loomed on for minutes before your smile returned. "So, you can see me now, huh?"
All the response she provided was a small nod, barely moving. You looked down to see your shirt, having momentarily forgotten the state you were always in. There were several stab marks in your stomach with blood covering the lower half of your shirt where it was torn. Quickly covering yourself with your flannel, you tried to turn away. "It's not a pretty sight, I know. But by now you know it's not exactly a Halloween costume" You joked, wanting her to say anything at this point to ease your ever-growing anxiety.
Astrid walked further into her room and shut the door behind her. She sat on her bed and her dress billowed out around her, kicking dust up around her. You laughed, not being able to help it. "I'm guessing you've been to the afterlife? I must say, you're the prettiest corpse I've seen in years" Her eyes lit up, just barely at your comment and she cracked a small smile at that, patting the spot beside her for you to sit.
You obliged but kept your distance, afraid to scare her more after the clearly traumatic experience she had.
Moments went by in comfortable silence before she spoke. "Why... did you get killed?" The words were soft and barely audible, but you picked up on it from a mile away, turning to look at her.
"People fear what they do not understand" You replied simply.
"Isn't that from To Kill a Mockingjay?" She smiled widely, having gotten over her anxiousness a bit more now.
You laughed. "Actually, I was quoting Batman Begins, it was one of my favorite movies as a child." A beat passed before a smirk grew on your lips. "But let's go with your idea, it makes me seem deeper and more mysterious"
You both laughed together, smiling brightly at the other.
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Part 2
A/N: This was partially written when I was sleep deprived at 2am, so if there are a lot of mistakes I apologize. Not sure if this was platonic or romantic so you guys get to choose that. I also kept the reader GN but if you'd specifically like a female or male reader, specify when requesting please!
Please like/comment/repost and let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always encouraged and appreciated. If I left out any important trigger warnings let me know and ill add them.
Credits:
Graveyard and Ghosts Dividers- @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Header- Me
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dragon-kazansky · 5 months
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Twelve - Beautiful day for a wedding
♡♡♡
The invitation arrived in your mail the very next day. You looked down at the writing of Violet Bridgerton on the letter. Daphne and Simon were to be married the very next day.
Your mother ushered you to the Modiste for a dress. You didn't have time for a new one, so she altered one you owned already. You bought a couple of new accessories and headed home.
You did not get to see the Bridgertons at all.
When you arrived at the church with your mother, you found yourself almost shocked at how few people were present, but you also supposed this was best.
On the duke's side were Lady Danbury and Will and his wife. On Daphne's was her family and you.
Benedict looked up just as you entered and smiled at you. He sat with Colin on a pew behind his mother. You smiled back and found your seat with Hyacinth and Gregory. Hyacinth made Gregory swap seats with her ao she could side beside you.
"Isn't this exciting?" She asks softly.
"Very," you smile.
"Daphne will look so beautiful in her dress," Hyacinth smiles.
"I'm certain of it."
You glance up to see Benedict still looking at you. When your eyes meet his, he turns away to talk to Colin again. You're confused by this strange little exchange, but don't dwell on it.
Violet spots you and waves at you with a smile. You return both gestures, and she turns back to Lady Danbury.
The duke stands quietly at the altar, awaiting his bride. As you look at him, you wonder what he must be thinking. From what you understand, this wasn't exactly ideal, but somehow you know, deep down in his heart, he loves Daphne.
He just needs to admit to himself.
His display to the queen, going by what Violet had said, was the most romantic declaration of love there could have ever been. You knew it had to have been true to some extent.
The sound of the door opening has everyone turning to look. You all rise when you see Anthony and the bride enter. You feel yourself gasp softly as you look at her.
Flawless.
Daphne looked beautiful. She was exactly what a bride should be on her special day. Anthony led her down the aisle. As she passed you, she gave you a small smile. She looked like she was putting on a brave face.
You smiled back and watched her pass.
Simon turns to look at his soon-to-wife. Even he couldn't deny how beautiful she is, surely.
Violet was trying so hard not to cry.
All of Daphne's family looked at her so proudly. This was the bottom she had been waiting for. The moment she would become a wife to the man she loved.
Though she had expected love to be true and pure like her parents had, for she knew the truth behind this wedding.
She practically forced Simon into it.
Anthony smiles at his sister and hands her over to Simon Bassett. The two stand beside each other while Anthony joins his mother at her pew.
You all sit.
The ceremony begins.
Hyacinth holds your hand as you watch the couple. You wonder what both of them are thinking.
They face each other. Simon holds out his hand. Daphne places her in it. He removes her long silk glove with ease. Her hand is now bare to him. He places the ring on her finger. Daphne remembers to breathe.
"I now pronounce you man and wife."
They're married.
♡♡♡
The ball after is full of life and cheer. Upbeat music plays on the violins. Though the wedding was an intimate affair, the ball was for all the ton.
Hyacinth and Gregory chase each other through the party while Daphne speaks to some of the guests.
Penelope tries to help Marina find someone other than Colin Bridgerton to marry. After all, Penelope had been in love with Colin for quite some time, though he was unlikely to view her the same way.
You laugh at something Anthony tells you on the other side of the room. Benedict comes over and looks between the two of you. "Is my brother that funny?"
"Quite, actually." You chuckle.
"At least one of us has charisma," Anthony says sipping his drink.
You laugh in the most unladylike manner and try to cover your mouth. Benedict looks at you in shock and in awe. Anthony smiles and shake his head.
"I never knew you could make such a sound," Benedict teases.
"Neither did I until now." You manage to control your laughter, ignoring anyone looking your way.
"A fascinating woman," he grins.
"I'm full of surprises. Even to myself," you smile.
Benedict looks at you curiously.
"Excuse me," Anthony says, nodding at you both and then taking his leave to catch up with someone.
You turn to Benedict only to catch him staring at someone.
"Benedict?"
"Excuse me..." He walks off but is soon cornered by the man he had seen. You sigh and decide to take a stroll of the room instead.
"A most enjoyable party," Henry Granville says to him.
"Indeed."
"Um, Bridgerton... Um... The other night..."
"What happened the other night?" Benedict asks, pretending he did not know. "I do not believe anything happened at all."
Henry chuckles softly. "Very well." A woman joins them, and Granville smiles. "Ah, dearest... I believe you know Mr. Bridgerton."
Benedict stares at the woman, recognising her from the other night. The pretty woman he enjoyed himself with.
"My wife, Mrs Lucy Granville."
Benedict chokes on his wine.
"It is a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton." She smiles at him.
He just sips his wine and nods. "Mm."
You catch sight of Daphne staring at her husband, who stands across the room. You find this strange because you were made to believe that newly we'd couples rarely parted from each other on their wedding day. Yet, they were standing so far apart.
You were about to approach Daphne, but Anthony came up beside her. You decide to leave them both alone for now.
The conversation seems short, however, as you catch sight of Daphne fleeing the room moments later.
Violet goes after.
Wedding jitters, perhaps? Not that you would know. Would you ever know?
You find that you have circled the room completely and sigh. Benedict finds his way through the crowd and looks at you. "I apologise for that."
"Something urgent?"
"Well, not exactly. Just saw a face I knew."
"Wonderful. Where you know many faces, I know very few."
Benedict frowns. "Is something the matter?"
"Other than your family and Lady Danbury, I don't really know anyone else. Penelope seems lovely enough, but I do not know her all too well."
Benedict remains confused by you.
"Did something happen?" He asks.
"I have been all but abandoned."
"Nonsense."
You sigh. "Forgive me, I'm just tired. Weddings seem to go on for a while, don't they?"
"Can't say I've been to many."
"Do you think I'll get to experience this one day?" You ask, looking around. "Perhaps not as grand as this, but... you know."
Benedict now looks at you with slight surprise. "Of course, if that is what you want."
"I do want it." You confess quietly. "I'd like to be married one day. Not necessarily to a duke," you chuckle.
Benedict laughs, too.
"But I'd like to be a wife and a mother one day." You watch Hyacinth chase her brother around the guests.
Benedict keeps his gaze on you as he says, "one day it shall be yours."
You smile, keeping your eyes on the youngest two of the Bridgerton family.
Benedict does not drop his gaze from you.
♡♡♡
Violet insists you come them to bid Daphne goodbye as she leaves for her new home. You can only wonder how strange it must be for her to leave a place she calls home.
You stand at the back of the crowd as Daphne says goodbye to her siblings. She even hugs Eloise who looks a little reluctant for her sister to go.
Daphne then turns to you and pulls you into a hug. "Thank you," she whispers.
"What for?"
"Being there." She pulls away to look at you, placing her hands in yours softly.
You smile. "Any time. Write, won't you?"
"Of course. Regularly."
You both smile at each other, and Daphne turns around to climb into the carriage. Simon opens the door for her and climbs in after her. She looks out the window to look at her family and her, now, old home.
You wave along with the others, finding your arm looped with Anthony's as you watch the carriage disappear down the road. When it's gone from sight, Anthony escorts you back inside. Violet gushes about the entire day, and you smile as you go with her to fetch some tea.
With the guests gone, the family can relax. You had been invited to stay behind and keep them company for a while longer, and you agreed.
You sit with Violet and the family as tea is called. Anthony stays a while but then excuses himself. Violet makes a comment about him being unable to leave business even for one day.
A cup of tea is placed on the table beside you. You look up to see Benedict standing beside you with a smile.
You accept the cup and sip it. It's been made the way you like it. Benedict remembered something so mundane about you? Or was it perhaps just chance. You have taken tea with his mother before.
"My daughter, a duchess," Violet sighs happily.
"You must be very proud," you say, smiling.
"Immensly." She sips her tea.
"Daphne looked beautiful," Hyacinth says, smiling at you both from where she sits with Gregory.
"Yes," Violet smiles proudly.
You sip your tea and listen to small babble lf conversation about Daphne and where she will be living now, and what a duchess does. Hyacinth was full of questions.
Eloise slumped down in the seat beside you with a sigh.
"You alright?" You ask. She had a book held tightly to her chest.
"Just glad it's all over." She sighs again.
"Did you not enjoy seeing your sister marry?"
"It's not that. I'm very happy for Daphne and shall miss her tremendously. I'm just tired of all the fuss."
"Will it not be your turn next?" You ask.
"Please don't remind me," she screws her eyes shut and grimaces at the thought.
You chuckle softly and pat her arm gently. "You may change your mind."
"I cannot think of anything worse."
You say no more on the matter. After an hour passes, you take your leave. Your mother would be waiting at home for you. Violet calls for a carriage for you, one of their own. Benedict insists on seeing you out.
You walks down the front steps with him and approaches the carriage. The footman opens the door for you.
"Until next we meet," Benedict smiles at you.
You're about to enter the carriage when you stop and turn to him. "Where do you go at night?" You ask.
Benedict seems to freeze at your question. "Pardon?"
"At night, where do you go?"
His mouth hangs open as he tries to think about how to answer, but you keep talking before he can utter a single word.
"The other night when the duke and Lady Danbury came for dinner, you were not present. I asked Anthony about your whereabouts, but he confessed to not knowing. Not that I expect you all to know each others business all the time, but apparently, you have spent a couple nights away from home now. I am curious. Where do you go?"
Benedict really wasn't sure how to answer. Qould you think poorly of him if he told you the truth.
"Well I--"
"No, never mind. Do not tell me. It was rude of me to ask. I was just curious. Curiosity can be dangerous." You climb up into the carriage.
There's a moment of silence before the footman closes the door. Within seconds the carriage takes off towards your home.
Benedict is left standing there wishing he had said something, anything, to keep you longer.
He watches the carriage leave.
♡♡♡
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@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner
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@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15
@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @luckily123345 - @charmainemaclendon
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azlrse · 2 months
Note
hello, can I request boyfriend gush for Malleus please?
[boyfriend gush/drabble: malleus draconia]
cw: spelling errors (pls do tell so that i'll fix itt) pure fluff & slight book 7 spoilers
a/n: wrote this while in a boring family function lmfaoo (maybe leona is next on the list)
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malleus didn't expect that the one creature who would took his heart is none other than (m/c) themselves. if the princess of briar valley is alive along with her own husband, malleus would say that the both of them would be in a state of shock; skeptical even that their own son would chose a magicless human as his lover. his own mother would disapprove of you but for the sake of her son's happiness, she would accept you.
his grandmother on the other hand, is on the same page as her deceased daughter but over the course of time, maleficia saw you as her own and accepted you into the family.
he is also the type of fae who is deeply in love with them so much that he could get mad if someone would bad-mouthed them. malleus also remembered on how he confided into his caretaker, lilia, regarding his feelings for you. a romantic feeling to be percise. upon seeing and realizing on how malleus's eyes enlightened whenever he talks about you for months, lilia is delighted and excited to hear that malleus finally found true love on his own. he even encourages him to court you the way his own kind does.
when he does court you, he is surprised to see that you accepted his gifts but quite oblivious on what he's indicating. for you, these gifts are his way to thanking you for being his friend but for the prince, it's his way of saying that he's in love with you and wants your hand to be his significant other. this excruciating shenanigan went on for months until sebek had to intervene through a letter.
the student even pointed out that malleus is deeply in love with the prefect and couldn't shake off on how solemn his face looks after giving you another trinket but didn't say anything other than "thanks", thinking that you rejected his own feelings for you.
you felt really bad and immediately ran towards the diasomnia dorm just to apologize to the headwarden, mistaking his gifts as simple souvenirs and reminded him that this is the first time a fae courted you without actually knowing it. malleus also apologizes that you didn't know these acts of courtship because of you being a human and are unfamiliar of the said acts.
for your first date (you introduced that concept to your fae boyfriend), malleus invited you to sightseeing gargoyles in different locations within the school. malleus isn't used to explaining gargoyles and dragons to someone due to the latter's lack of interest but to you, you listened tentively and stared into his eyes as he introduced you to different statues. you didn't know a thing about statues but seeing how malleus explained each and every single statue puts you in a trance on how handsome he looks.
if (m/c) is the type of person who loves whole cakes, malleus would be amazed on how you ate lots and lots of cakes and not having heartburns nor a stomach ache. malleus knows that he despised those pastries due to an incident that took place sometime in his life. for him, (m/c) is known to be a sweet tooth and takes notes that he could give you cakes and sweets from his kingdom if you plan on visiting.
over the course of him dating you, this guy would occasionally scare you to bits by surprising you; malleus appearing in front of you out of nowhere, hanging upside down and surprising you (like how lilia does) and even hugging you from behind. he likes it on how skittish you are and the way you hit his arm as he laughs at you. he would apologize to you if he scared you to an extent or making you uncomfortable due to his antics.
he's also the one who gave you your first kiss. during one of your walks, you mentioned that you dated for quite sometime but didn't receive any kisses from him. at first, malleus thinks that giving you cheek kisses are enough but you murmured that you haven't got your first kiss on the lips. unfortunately, he heard the said plea and asked you if you really wanted that kissed.
you nodded and puckered your lips, preparing for his lips of touch yours when all of the sudden, he dips you down and kisses you. you were surprised, yes, but quickly melted into the kiss as you placed both of your hands into his face. malleus really likethe way you hid your face with your hands and the said kiss. he didn't say anything but placed a chaste kiss on your forehead as you recovered from the surprise kiss your boyfriend gave you.
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note: want this but with your twst character? send me an ask!! <33
Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.
Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕
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loveemagicpeace · 6 months
Text
🍬Uranus Energy🍬
Uranus may signify death through accident, injury, or natural disaster, but at least it never signifies the death-in-life that is characteristic of Saturn. Thus, although Uranus energies can be extremely difficult to live with, the measure of chaos that they introduce is essential for life. Life is to a great extent a balancing of the orderly forces of Saturn with the chaotic forces of Uranus. Each has its place, and each needs to be kept in check by the other. Uranus represents something very different, very unique. But can also be very strange and unfamiliar. Anywhere you have uranus in your house it shows where your life is the most different. Uranus energies coming too soon in life can cause a chronically erratic quality that prevents any kind of maturation and produces an individual incapable of taking part in the social contract. Such people are automatic rebels: they rebel simply to negate order, even when order is still useful. Whatever it may affect or symbolize takes the form of something unusual, far different from the everyday world.
🦋Uranus in 1st house- you might present yourself differently to others or feel somehow out- of step. You can play a role as outsider, bringing valuable insight to outmoded situations. Your appearance is unique and your beauty can also be original and different from others. These people tend to have a different perspective than the rest. They think and look at life outside the box. You usually don't like things related to systems, you prefer to stick to your own rules. This placement often indicates an unconventional approach to life. This suggests that you are a very individualistic person, who operates the best on their own.
🌱Uranus in 2nd house-Financial fortunes might be subject to sudden changes, perhaps a result of not playing it safe. Income might come from independent freelance sources. Your money can go up and down very quickly. You can also have a different way of making money. This can lead to a unique approach to finances, a deep understanding of personal values, and an unconventional path to self-expression. Another strength of this placement is its innovative, progressive energy. You have a different way of managing your money. You spend a lot of money on things that are more dreamy. You have a free way of managing money and it doesn't mean much to you.
🌱Uranus in 3rd house- Your mind works at lightning speed. You can be single-minded in the way you think, with a talent for presenting the opposite view. Your way of thinking is often contradictory and different from the others. Many times your thinking and manner can confuse other people. This can also mean that your relationship with relatives is distant and cold. Your thoughts are often ahead of their time, leading you to challenge established ideas and concepts. Uranus here can also cause sudden accidents on the road. You have to be careful how you drive.
💕Uranus in 4th house- Early independence may have been high on the agenda. You might opt to rent rather than buy, so you can change the scenery from time to time. At home, you can often be rebellious and do things on your own. The relationship with the mother can be more distant, cold and perhaps strange. You can move a lot and the moves are usually sudden. Uranus can make a home unstable and strange.
🍭Uranus in 5th house-You have potential for genuine creative originality, although your challenge might be to allow it to land and take form, because each idea is rapidly superseded by the next. Your dates are usually sudden, different, and you may always feel that this area is not so close to you. Many times people can suddenly surprise you (positively or negatively) - also many times you don't get an answer as to why something happened the way it did. You can also suddenly fall in love. Pregnancy can happen spontaneously and the child may be born different from the others.
🍸Uranus in 6th house- You probably need some excitement in your daily round. Being freelance might suit you, so you can set your own routine and timetable. You like work that is independent and free. Above all, what you need is freedom - you hate when someone is above you and tells you what to do. Your rebellious path can be most effective through work. But since this house also represents the physical body, health - it means that you may have some disease that is unusual or you may have some skin problems that are unusual.
🛼Uranus in 7th house- You may prefer to break up with someone who curtails your freedom. Partners may seem unpredictable, but perhaps an assertion of your independence is at the root of it. You can go into a relationship suddenly or end it suddenly. Many times you can attract people who are different, strange, unique, smart. You can have certain conditions that you like about the relationship and stick to them. Few meet your standards. But you need a lot of freedom. Uranus can mean that marriage can be sudden. The law, however, can be quite different from normal laws. It suggests an individual who seeks independence, freedom, and excitement within their intimate connections. Uranus in this house indicates that you seek the company of people who have similar views as you do.
🏹Uranus in 8th house- You can shine intellectual light into life's mysteries, bringing clarity and rational discourse. It might be important to you to maintain your distance in intimate encounters. Because it is also the house of transformation, rebirth & things connected with needles, blood also sugerirs. It also means that you can go for sudden surgery. It can also mean a sudden loss. But you can deal with a loss in a different way than others. They are likely to attract unconventional partners who challenge their views on intimacy and shared resources. It can lead to successful relationships, marriages, and beneficial business opportunities. On the other hand, it can also create disruption in relationships due to its unpredictable nature and an unwillingness to conform.
🥊Uranus in 9th house-Going to university or grappling with religious principles can bring enlightenment - but you might also be inclined to question, rejecting orthodoxy and tradition. You can be very rebellious when it comes to church, religion, other culture and you can also be very controversial about that. Cuz you can also have your own religion that you believe in. Your opinion about the world can be completely different and the places that interest you can also be very unusual. You can also travel to places that others would never go. Especially to unpopular places. You can also have a very unpopular opinion about the world things & around you.
🎱Uranus in 10th house-Bowing to authority is not your style and you may choose work which encourages your independent vision and allows you to change track when it suits you. You can also be very rebellious when it comes to authority figures. The career may be in constant motion, but this can make it difficult to identify with a profession. They are often innovative thinkers with a knack for science and technology, and they bring originality and ingenuity into their development efforts. This often leads to unique and inventive career opportunities, an exciting public image, and the potential for innovative and progressive thinking.
🏝️Uranus in 11th house-This placement offers a parodox: how to maintain your freedom and autonomy within a democratic context. You could play the role of agitator, bringing radical change. You can have a unique way of doing things and seeing them. Many times it is strictly seen that you have the characteristics of uranus. U can also have very unique group or friends. This placement suggests that you enjoy taking part in online discussions where you can connect with like-minded people. Uranus here suggests that you are not interested in everyday goals, craved by most people. You have unique visions for your life. But you can also have the feeling that you are quite different from your friends (can also be lonely placement).
🧚🏼‍♀️Uranus in 12th house-Perhaps you hide your unconventionality so as to fit in - reclaiming this can help set you free. Your radar for collective trends can put you ahead of your time. You can also struggle with spirituality, things that are hidden ,unconscious -this doesn't mean that you don't believe in it, but you can have complex believing into this stuff. They may have dreams, intuitions, or sudden insights that challenge societal norms and traditional beliefs. It often happens with this placement that your parents expected a child with a different type of personality. As a child, you felt that you have to live up to their expectations, but you were struggling on the inside. Social conventions annoy you, but you struggle to express this.
🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸
-Rebekah🎸❤️‍🔥🧚🏼‍♀️
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hannieehaee · 6 months
Note
what we think abt sub!vernon cuz honestly i feel like he has a mommy kink and i can just imagine him whining and begging to cum 🫠
18+ / mdi
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content: sub!vernon, sofdom!reader, afab reader, smut, nipple play (m receiving), blowjob, body worship, etc.
wc: 858
a/n: maybe a little tmi but i have both father and mother issues so i cant see myself writing anything related to mommy or daddy kink ... BUT i am a fan of sub!vernon so!
masterlist
vernon's always been a man of little words, someone who does not often react to things in the way one would usually expect a person to. this was, however, not the vernon you knew.
the vernon you knew was quite expressive – even to an embarrassing extent.
your vernon would always belly-laugh at your jokes. would always use an extensive vocabulary when it came to complimenting you. would always commentate on the movies you watched together. he'd never leave you wanting more.
especially in the bedroom.
in an almost effortless manner, you could render vernon into a whiney mess, whimpering at you to please touch him the way only you knew how to.
you'd start by undressing him while sensually exploring his lips with your tongue, heavy breaths being swallowed by one another. you'd feel him up in indecent ways, making him blush at how shameless you were in your desire for his body.
throughout all this, vernon would moan and pant against your lips, feeding you with silent pleas for more. you'd, of course, comply, fully unable to deny such a pretty boy of your touch.
your lips would explore every inch of his body, kissing at his neck while he asked for permission to please undress you – "wanna feel you too," he'd say. knowing the sight of your body alone could render him to his knees, you'd approve and even give him a little show of undressing yourself.
being fed by his whines, you'd go back to kissing your way down his body, making a lengthy stop to lick at his nipples in, barely even gracing them with your tongue. this would always, without a fault, get him to sheepishly beg you to kiss him properly – to suck and bite at his nipples until he cried. you'd do this with no complaint. using your mouth to nibble and pull at one of his sensitive buds while your fingers – wet from having had him suck on them earlier while kissing – made him gasp at the coolness of your touch as you pulled meanly at his bud. going back and forth between both, vernon would be in tears by the time you were satisfied.
your path downwards would continue, making a show of kissing down his happy trail, leaving your own trail of saliva as you licked your way down. tiny gasps could be heard from above, only inciting you into worshiping his body more and more.
you were used to his whines by now, begging you to "please hurry," and to "kiss him where he wanted you most." but the whines got even louder the closer you got to his most sensitive area.
you were not shy to leave red splotches of love bites all over his thighs, getting meaner by the second in the way you marked him as yours. you had already left your mark all through the length of his body, but his thighs were your favorite. all the plush and soft skin there was just waiting to be marked. traces from your previous love bites could still be seen there.
finally arriving at your final destination, you decided to have a bit more fun with the pretty boy laying under you, kitty-licking his slit as you made eyes at him. you could feel the vibration from his groans at your actions, which only made you wanna ruin him more.
his moans would fill the room as you slowly licked up and down every vein on his cock, going as slow as you possibly could in order to enjoy his cries longer. his arms would stay at his sides, though you could see the struggle he was going through at holding back from forcing his way into your mouth. he was always so good for you, making you inevitable reward him every time.
finally enveloping him in your mouth, you'd bob your head while you moaned against his cock, obsessed with his never-ending cries at the feeling. his words of praise would hit you where it ached the most.
"s-so good, oh fuck ..."
"mouth's so good, shit ... need to cum, please ..."
"'sso tight n' warm ... god, fuck. makin' me lose my mind ..."
"n-needa cum ... nedda feel your cunt- o-oh fuck ..."
you felt delirious at the pretty boy under you, becoming addicted to the way he begged for you; the way he was such a good boy for you.
you gave it your all, sucking and bobbing your head, suctioning around him and moaning against his cock up until the moment his orgasm hit him and he filled your mouth with his spunk.
once more, you'd make a show out of it, licking every drop that fell out of your mouth and even licking at the remnants still on his dick. you'd want nothing more than to keep sucking until he sobbed and begged at you to stop, but you'd save that for another day. for now all you wanted was to climb back up the length of his body and kiss his cum right into his mouth before kissing away all his tears and letting him know what a good boy he'd been for you.
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chaedomi · 1 year
Text
𝐉𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 ✦ wmmap
fem!child!reader x athanasia + claude de alger obelia (platonic!yan), violence, death, suicide, unhealthy relationships; to them you were a jewel, precious and highly valuable. they, in turn, will express their strong emotions toward you, even if it means resorting to… more hostile methods. ꨄ — masterlist
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IN THE novel, Lovely Princess, the story went like this. True to its title, the book contained Lovely Princesses. There was The First Princess, akin to the moon, who held a gloomy and foggy disposition. Then came The Second Princess, resembling the sun, bright and cheery. And finally, The Third Princess, similar to the stars, was reserved but gentle and a source of comfort.
You were… The First Princess’s younger half-sister. Although your mother was unknown (you were found inside a basket in the gardens crying) those jeweled eyes and your uncanny appearance close to The Emperor were solid proof that you were in fact of royal blood. It was… certainly strange to learn that the book entailed you as an 'unimportant' character. While The Second Princess was adored by the whole continent, the love the people harbored for you, The Third Princess, could put The Second Princess to shame. They treated you as though you were some supreme gift bestowed from the heavens, to be treasured and pampered. And among those who glorified you… was your father, The Cold-Hearted Emperor. You were like The Protagonist more than The Second Princess could ever be.
You were also… the best sister anyone could ask for to The First Princess. Because The First Princess was deprived of affection in her life, she mostly relied on you to fill the gaps in her heart. And you endearingly did so, trying your best to shine a light inside her darkness. It soon became that you both were inseparable, attached by the hip.
…So, obviously, you will spiral down into despair over The First Princess's death. You knew The First Princess was innocent of The Second Princess's poisoning. She was simply too sweet to commit a vile act, especially when she too took a liking to The Second Princess. But, alas, your reasoning went through one ear and out the other, and without proper evidence, your father executed The First Princess.
However, just as The Emperor's wrath was not to be underestimated, so was the extent of your grief as you promptly took away your life hours after The First Princess's execution. And that was the sad ending of your story, The Third Princess.
HOW WAS THAT ANY FAIR??? The confusion of the roles and the cheesy plotline were already bad enough on their own, but your unnecessary death pretty much destroyed the chances of her leaving a positive review. Was it done to reestablish the fact you were an unimportant character, or to remind everyone that The Second Princess is the original best girl in the story…? No amount of copious explanations can ever make ATHANASIA understand the validation for your death.
What she can come to understand however is that you, out of all people, did NOT deserve to die. You had all the rights to receive a happy ending just like The Second Princess… and that is what she aspired to make a reality as she was tossed into the fantasy world of the novel. It was obvious that it all went to hell when The First Princess was executed at the hands of The Emperor. So, in order to avoid your death, she will have to avoid hers first.
A genius plan, she dubbed it, stealing various riches from the Ruby Palace to live the rest of her life on as she escapes. She also thought of the brilliant idea of taking you along with her, after all, being inside the palace is kind of… the reason for your death, was it not!? Why not avoid the source altogether!? Or… that is what was supposed to happen before she accidentally stumbled across The Emperor four years early. Now, she will have to scrap that genius plan. Damn…
On a bright note, as time passed, using an alternative plan, Athanasia eventually evaded all chances of earning death at the hands of her father. This means that you too won’t have a pitiful ending as you originally did! Yay!
You truly didn’t deserve to die, and Athanasia will keep on saying it as much as needed. The years she spent beside you as your sister, further strengthened her motivation to keep you alive. She also understood why The First Princess had a strong attachment toward you. Innocent, Pure, Patient, Merciful, and Kind… who wouldn’t swoon over a person with such admirable traits? What struck her heart the way it did, was your affection. In her previous life, Athanasia… didn’t have people around her to provide her with love.
So, it surprised her a lot when it happened. Sure, she had love from her Nanny and the rest of the maids, but yours had her heart pumping, energy rushing through her veins. It was warm… a feeling she wanted to cling to for an eternity. Was it silly that she felt envious of a fictional character? To think that The First Princess was subjected to this kind of treatment from you… How did it feel to live her dream? Not that it matters anymore. Now, she can have you to all herself! You wouldn’t mind if she got a little… greedy, right? Of course, you won’t! After all, if you learned of her tremendous effort to keep you safe, why wouldn’t you reward her with more of your presence? What she does is in your favor. So, don’t get too upset if what she does seems a bit extreme, alright? It’s all for your benefit.
Betrayal can hurt. But, betrayal stings when it comes from the person you trusted and loved the most. You didn’t understand why it had upset her more than it upsetted you. More so, if she was so against the idea, why hadn’t she said so first? She was supportive about it too, choosing to help pick out a perfect disguise for your outing in the town. So why was it that on the day you were about to leave, lo and behold, there was your father by your doorway, inclusive of his knight… and your sister beside him, smiling triumphantly? Maybe if you had paid attention to how the shine left your sister’s eyes as you told her of your plan, you could have avoided such a dreadful punishment.
What bugged you the most was how Athanasia carried out her day normally, and acted sweetly to you, as if she didn’t partially contribute to the punishment of breaking your legs. Today was no different, as she sat on the chair beside your bed rambling on about her day. “You know, that’s the most I’ve seen Daddy upset.” She laughed, tracing her finger down your legs. “Usually, he would never dream of even hurting a strand of your hair. What you’ve done was really bad…”
She smiled at you, her jeweled eyes looking all the more terrifying under the dark lighting in your room. “I don’t understand. I should feel despaired seeing my sister in so much pain. Why does it bring me so much relief?” She sighed, holding one of your hands in hers. “...You scared me terribly with what you told me earlier. My mind couldn’t stop focusing on the many possibilities that would arise with you out there. Even worse, what if they learned of your true identity, and an enemy nearby attacks you?”
“I agreed with your plan, solely to avoid trouble. If I said no, you would have avoided me, right? I… don’t ever want to see you in danger, or place you in it, knowing I could have done something to prevent it. Not like anything like that will happen anytime soon!” She gently poked your injured legs. “I will help ensure that too.” You didn’t realize that the tears building in your eyes began to fall, your sister’s fingers quickly working to wipe them away.
In the novel, CLAUDE naturally favored you more than The First Princess. Upon your first encounter during the festival on The First Princess’s ninth birthday, with an outstretched hand, he escorted you back to the party, leaving your older sister in the dust. You lived a rather lavish life after that, him spoiling you with exquisite goods. So, it’s not like you had to form some extreme plan like Athanasia to protect yourself from the dangers that lurked inside the palace. Everyone here adored you…
Yet, not only did Athanasia’s interference with the plotline create many changes for her, but it also resulted in triggering unsettling events for you. Now that The Cold-Hearted Emperor has learned to display affection for the firstborn he originally detested, where would that place you, the daughter he always loved?
…His methods were very much frightening, even traumatizing, you may add. The numerous times you witnessed something gruesome to the eye, for the littlest offenses toward you. He would imprison, he would murder, he would execute, all in your name. His presence too, was very much suffocating, more than Athanasia, and that spoke volumes.
You hated how they both attached themselves to you, but, if you had to choose, you would pick Athanasia in a heartbeat. For the cold jeweled eyes that scrutinized every movement you made were too much for your poor heart to endure. It was as though he was waiting, waiting for your slip-up, to gain a perfect reason to permanently confine you behind the walls of your bedroom. And you fear… that the day you kissed your freedom goodbye was approaching quicker than you initially anticipated.
“What will it take for you to treat me as normally as the rest?” the (h.c) haired girl wept, clutching on tightly her father’s robes. “Shall I become like my sister, Athanasia? If I do… will I become like a free bird, and be granted more privileges?” grief-stricken jeweled eyes peered up at her father. “Will you finally release me from the shackles you trapped me in?”
“Do what you want,” her father smirked. but, as quickly as her hope came so was it shattered. the piercing concept. his voice in her ears was the cruelest of them all. “Such a thing won’t happen till the day I perish.” what a terrible vow. she knew he would do anything in his power to maintain his promise. and so, the deepest of despair like never before flooded her eyes. what have you done to receive this…?
you were very precious. nothing, not even the rarest pieces in the world could be compared to you; you were the highest value among them all. for all, it was a high requirement to treat you with the utmost importance and respect. yes, to them, to everyone, you were, the jewel of obelia.
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©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.
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Nervous mc meeting her boyfriends familly !!
for: Azul, Jade, Duece, Malleus, Jamil
(Had to make a lot of assumptions in this bc we don't really know what MOST of their parents are like so)
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul’s mother has a keen eye and a serious look on her face when you first meet; if you’re not of a tough constitution you might falter under her gaze but otherwise she presents the front of a protective mother looking out for her son. She had made her own bad choices in the past (ex: first husband) but she knew Azul was a little more discerning when it came to that; he had to know the proper way to treat a lover just from seeing his mother with her current husband. She didn’t want to openly doubt your sincerity but there’s a quiet threat lingering between you that if you were to ever break her sons heart, land or sea she WILL be finding you.
Deuce Spade:
Deuce’s mom is the nicest woman you’ve ever met, and her kindness bleeds into the meeting immediately as she makes you feel as comfortable as possible in her home. She wants you to treat it as your own, fawning over how sweet and cute you were, tearing up a little that Deuce found someone like you. She gladly embarrasses her son to the point all your nervousness melted away, but Deuce was then left twice as nervous as he had not a single clue what kind of memories his mom held in the hefty albums she placed on the table in front of you.
Jade Leech:
The Leech parents are scary at first sight, but appearance isn’t everything. Once they know who you are, and trust me, Jade has written home about you, they’re very welcoming. They practically consider you part of the family since Jade is so found of you, and they admit to being a bit worried that either one of their sons would find a partner suitable for them. They do try to make things a little less intimidating, telling their definitely normal business people bodyguards to remain mostly out of sight so you feel more at ease.
Jamil Viper:
Jamil is a little embarrassed to introduce you to his family, but he knew he’d get more grief from his sister than his parents. She wants dirt but she’s on her best behavior in front of their parents, who greet you respectfully and welcome you into their home wholeheartedly. You can see that his mother is quite warm from the start, with his father mentioning that they had been eagerly awaiting their official meeting with you; he was also eagerly awaiting a day where they met your parental figures, which caused Jamil to let out a deep, exhausted sigh.
Malleus Draconia:
You have never been more stressed in your life. No matter how much Malleus, and Lilia to some extent, tried to assure you that you simply had to exude a level of confidence that showed you weren’t easily intimidated, it would be smooth sailing. Easier said than done when she’s a woman even more intimidating that Malleus himself, who you loved dearly and could still admit he had his moments where he was strikingly terrifying. She’s proper, not necessarily friendly but kind as she invited you into her home, making it clear that as long as you were respectful and followed the rules she laid out, the two of you would have no trouble getting along.
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kissitbttr · 5 months
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frat!miggy headcannons !!
frat!miguel masterlist
sfw !!
frat!miguel is the type to giggle and kick his feet up in the air when you tell him simple things like ‘i am so proud of you, baby’ or ‘look at how handsome you are, my big boy!’
frat!miguel gets jealous of small things. your fictional crushes. your girlfriends. your pet. your back spotter in the cheerleading team. gloria.
frat!miguel is also protective. very. to an extent where even you’re only standing five feet away from him at a party, his eyes will be locked in on you. arms crossed, nodding along to whatever his friend is saying in front of him. smiling like a lovesick puppy when he sees you laugh.
frat!miguel who would in seconds, kneel to tie your shoes when they see them undone. you don’t even have to ask.
frat!miguel plugs into his laptop, spending hours on his free time to look up cheerleading sports when both of you started dating. learning about the rules, routines, physical training, winning teams, tumblings, pyramids, etc. why, you ask? no idea.
frat!miguel is your own personal scary dog privilege. there is nothing about this man a golden retriever. especially at the gym. since you love wearing tight shorts and sports bra on leg days, he would stand a few feet apart behind. glaring to those who stares at his girlfriend’s juicy butt.
frat!miguel brings you flowers every weekend and send ones for your mother too. every once a week he goes out to play ball with your dad too. the man is surprised at how well your dad could throw.
frat!miguel who keeps stashes of condoms in his ‘special’ drawer since you stay over almost every day at the frat house. he figures that it’s better to be prepared than nothing. when really, he’s just one horny motherfucker.
frat!miguel who is so damn clingy that you have no clue on how to deal with it anymore. you could send this man a text of ‘bye, talk to you later, baby’ because you’re leaving for practice and he would spam you with
my miggy<3 : what? no!
my miggy<3 : wdym bye?!
my miggy<3 : princesa please don’t leave me!!!
my miggy<3 : i’d die💔💔💔
my miggy<3 : omg pleasepleaseplease come back
my miggy<3 : so you’re just going to let me die:(
frat!miguel who spends almost his entire junior and senior being fawned and gushed by other girls that he didn’t even think for a second to actually try. but for you? ask him to get you the moon, and he gives you saturn
frat!miguel asks you one day if he could be your boyfriend. not the other way around. not ‘can you be my girlfriend?’ because he’s threading lightly and he needs your permission
nsfw !!
frat!miguel is a large, large, man. he’s jacked bro. 6’9 and built like a damn linebacker. he’s big down there too, so it did take some time for you to get used to his size
frat!miguel loves fucking you. to no end. his stamina could go on for hours and he’s lucky enough to have you as his perfect match. ‘always fuck like damn rabbits’ is a review from glen
frat!miguel doesn’t care about whereabouts. if he’s horny and needed you, then you better get to it! (but of course, only if you’re comfortable)
frat!miguel prefers taking you from behind, he loooves seeing your ass bounce against him. it makes him lose his mind. guaranteed that it would be hard enough for him to last
frat!miguel is a sucker for eating your pussy. day and night, this man could have it for his five course meal. he loves it when you’re sitting on a chair, legs spread and tucked upwards while he’s just on his knees lapping at your cunt
frat!miguel loves having control but even more when you’re in charge. bouncing on his dick, not allowing him to touch you while rather just let him watch your tight pussy swallowing his cock.
frat!miguel gets off to your moans. they’re like music to his ears. how could one be so angelic and pornographic at the same time, shits crazy.
frat!miguel who has a breeding kink. he would go on about how he’s willing to knock you up during fucking, whispering in your ear that he’s going to put a baby in you.
frat!miguel is obsessed with your mouth. the head you give is top notch. you could do so much shit with your tongue around his cock than half of the girls he had before with their hands.
frat!miguel who’s lock-screen wallpaper is a selfie of you in the shower. hair wet, one arm covering your tits, puckered lips and doe eyes at the camera. head tilting to the side. it’s one you sent when he had texted you ‘what’s my girl doing today?’ during football practice. you look so damn cute and sexy, he just had to do it.
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