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edenesth · 4 months

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The Way to His Heart [8]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 7 | Fic Masterlist | Part 9

"Sir, the dressmaker has arrived with the mistress' first batch of clothes. Should I send him directly to the House of Lotus?" Jongho asked tentatively from the entrance of his master's study.

Removing his hands from his head, Seonghwa looked up and shook his head miserably, "Lord, no. Send him to me first," The assistant bowed and went to do as he was told, "Right away, sir."

Hongjoong entered the study without bothering to knock, hands propped on his hip as he stared at your husband, unamused, "Would you mind explaining why I'm here instead of presenting the new clothes to your wife, Park Seonghwa?"

"I need advice, Hongjoong." The general croaked, feeling quite lost for once. He had rarely ever been in such a situation; who knew all it took was one woman to put him in such misery. Not even the most vicious enemies he had fought in war could have ever fazed him this much.

He returned from work the day before, enthusiastically sharing his plans for the grand wedding he wanted to give you. However, things went south when he dropped the bomb about the visit to your old home, foolishly believing you would express joy at the prospect of flaunting your newfound happiness to your wicked family. Instead, you were gripped with fear at the idea. You ended up retiring to your quarters early and refused to come out ever since.

Goddamnit, I'm the biggest moron ever.

The dressmaker raised an amused brow, having never seen Seonghwa like this before. He went over to sit down across from his friend, "Hmm, I didn't think you'd be having trouble in paradise this soon. Let's hear it; we'll see if there's anything I can do for you and that lovely wife of yours."

Taking a deep breath, your husband started from the beginning, recounting every single thing that happened from the start of your arranged marriage until the present.

"Wait, you're taking her back to that wretched place? No wonder she's upset, you idiot! You said it yourself; she suffered so badly being caged in there all her life. I mean, sure, your cause is very noble—wanting to make her family pay for what they've done with this plan of yours. But you'd been so focused on that, you forgot how traumatising it could be for her, huh? You really didn't think that one through, my friend."

Letting out a groan, the general pulled at his hair, "Yes, thank you for repeating it all to me like I didn't already know what I did wrong. Now, tell me what exactly it is that I can do to make it all better."

"You're welcome. Oh, I'll tell you what to do, all right. You best keep your dumbass seated here while I talk to her," instructed Hongjoong, watching expectantly as your husband frowned, "What? Why should you talk to her? It's my mess; I should be the one to clean it up."

Sighing, the dressmaker explained, "Look, we all know the only way for you to make things better is to not take her back to the damn house at all. But you do have a point, okay? You've come this far with your plan, and as much as it sucks, she must go there with you in order for this to work out. So, you stay put, and let me convince her to go willingly with you, got it?"

Seonghwa nodded reluctantly, realising his friend was right. As much as he hated how charming Hongjoong was and how persuasive he could be, he would have to rely on those skills to help you see things in the bigger picture. Sure, you were not privy to any details about the revenge, but hopefully, he will be able to make you at least want to stand up to your family for once.

"Lady Park, it's Hongjoong. I've brought your first batch of clothing. May I have permission to enter?" Blinking in surprise, you straightened up, not expecting to hear the dressmaker's voice, "O-okay, please come in."

Despite the anxious state you'd been in since the revelation your husband had dropped upon you the night before, you couldn't help but smile at the unusually colourful outfit of your visitor. Eunsook followed behind him with a group of servants filing in to deliver the precious cargo into your quarters.

The head maid felt relieved to see you smiling again, even if it was only a little. She had been concerned about you after witnessing your retreat into your old shell the previous night, as the fear you demonstrated reminded everyone of your initial arrival.

In an effort to distract you from your upsetting thoughts, the dressmaker quickly pulled out a few designs he thought you'd love, "Come, take a look at this! I made it the way you preferred and added a little touch of my magic. What do you think?"

Fortunately, his strategy worked like a charm, and you immediately moved over to him with sparkly eyes, marvelling at some of the most beautiful hanboks you'd ever seen, even prettier than the ones he had displayed in his shop.

As you admired the clothes in front of you, Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with the elderly woman. Nodding, she quietly exited your room along with the rest of the servants, leaving you alone with your husband's old friend.

But you weren't entirely alone, of course.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was right outside, listening intently. He didn't spare any of his servants a glance as they all passed by him with a deep bow, waving his hand carelessly in a gesture to ask them to leave quickly.

"Hey, you haven't answered me. Do you like them, Lady Park?" The dressmaker asked, a teasing smile on his face as he found your endearing shyness adorable.

You nodded quickly, "Yes, I do. I love them. They're all perfect. I just... don't know if I deserve to wear any of these." The general felt his heart clench at your response, realising you were still far from being able to love yourself.

With a scoff, Hongjoong moved to stand beside you, "I'll have you know I only make dresses for people I deem worthy of them. Not just anyone can wear my designs, you know. And you, by far, are probably my favourite client. So that says a lot."

Your husband silently agreed with those words, resisting the urge to rush in there and hold you tight, to tell you that you deserved only the best, that you deserved everything good in the world.

Lowering your head, you fiddled with your fingers before replying in a small voice, "You're only saying that because I'm the general's wife..."

Sighing lightly, the dressmaker turned to face you, "You're not wrong... but that's exactly because not just anyone can be Lady Park. Many women before you tried to be in your position. Regardless of their efforts, he never would have given them the time of day. Yet, he wholeheartedly accepted you."

Recognising the doubt in your eyes, he further explained, "I understand if you think these are just words. But that's probably because you don't know the general like I do. We've known each other since joining the military in our teens. Back then, the Seonghwa I knew would never bat an eyelash at any woman."

As you slowly looked up to meet his kind eyes, intrigued to learn more about your husband's past, he continued, "Those rumours about him being the cold-blooded general were not lies. He really was as merciless as they say. He still is, just not to you. When I saw him again for the first time after years that day, I couldn't believe the man in front of me was the same friend I once knew. He's different around you; he's different because of you."

"It's evident that you're special to him, that you mean something to him. He cares so much about you; do you realise that?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurriedly blinked them back. The thought of someone genuinely caring for you still seemed surreal despite the amount of care that had been shown to you since living here. However, you were starting to understand that he was right.

Hongjoong grinned, seeing the effectiveness of his words, "You're the first and only woman who can tame Park Seonghwa, so you are beyond worthy of my dresses."

Before you could even attempt to protest, he held up a hand, "And don't bother telling me I'm wrong because I'm never wrong."

You couldn't help but giggle at his sassy words, and he smiled sincerely at you, saying, "So don't you dare question whether you deserve these clothes. You're the only one who deserves them because these are made only for you, do you understand?"

This time, you nodded with a wide smile.

"I want you to wear my dresses proudly and show the world who you are: the great Lady Park, the only woman General Park wants as his wife. No one will dare disrespect or look down on you again."

Feeling as if he knew exactly what had been worrying you, you felt touched. He was right; you were not who you used to be. You had no reason to cower from your family, recalling their belittling assumptions about your survival in this marriage. Now was your chance to prove them wrong.

With newfound determination, you nodded firmly, "You're right, I will. Thank you, Hongjoong. You're a good friend; Seonghwa is lucky to have you."

He crossed his arms over his chest cheekily, "I sure am. That fool hasn't a clue how fortunate he is."

Mission accomplished.

Pumping his fists in victory, your husband silently cheered outside, brushing off the playful taunts from his friend. Just this once, he would forgive Kim Hongjoong.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

The general turned to you as your carriage came to a stop, marking your arrival at what you assumed to be the Jang estate, your former prison. With a resolute nod, you smiled up at him, "I am."

As you moved to exit the vehicle, your husband halted you. Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed reassuringly into your eyes, "Remember, whatever happens, I'm here with you. You're not alone from now on; I'll always be here to protect you."

"I know, Seonghwa. I believe in you."

His heart melted at those words, and he couldn't resist pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed, holding onto his wrists, cherishing the warmth he was providing.

"Alright, let's go." Leaving one final peck on your cheek, he got out of the carriage and swiftly helped you down, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. Eunsook stood there, mouth agape, that was initially meant to be her responsibility but she realised her assistance was no longer needed at the moment.

Jongho grinned, nudging the elderly woman on the shoulder as they followed their master and mistress into the minister's estate, "Come on, we've got work to do."

Taking a deep breath, you surveyed the familiar surroundings that once made you feel small. Feeling a reassuring squeeze on your hand, you found comfort in your husband's presence.

Yes, he's here with you now.

Nothing bad will happen.

His grip on your hand tightened, and his warm smile, reserved only for you, vanished when a few of your father's servants nervously stumbled out, bowing deeply before both of you, "Good morning, General Park. Welcome to the Jang estate."

The brave front you had put on seemed to falter slightly as you realised the servants here remained the same, showing no acknowledgement despite you no longer being their prisoner. Seonghwa, glaring at the maids in front of him, growled in a low voice, "You've left out Lady Park. Will you not greet my wife?"

Gulping on behalf of the servants, you witnessed the return of the general's intimidating demeanour. Hongjoong was right; he was still terrifying, just not to you.

The maids bowed deeper, "B-but sir—"

"What is going on here?" That voice resonated across the courtyard, causing your heart to plummet to the lowest pit of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't ready to face them at all. Your father emerged from the main hall, wearing an expression that was far from pleased.

You pressed closer to your husband, and instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close. The minister's eyebrow raised in surprise at your refined appearance; he nearly did not recognise you. You were even more stunning than on the day you left this place, seemingly given a complete makeover.

Aside from that, he realised the general had meant his words when he had spoken so highly of you during assembly. Witnessing the intimacy between the two of you, there was undeniable evidence of shared affection. Your father began to question whether marrying you to his enemy was a mistake in the first place.

Seonghwa smirked, "Ahh, Minister Jang, it seems your servants do not know proper manners. They did not greet my wife, and that, to me, is punishable."

The old man felt his eye twitch at the general's satisfied grin before responding, "Well, I'm their master, so I decide what is punishable, General Park."

"Right, well, I'm just looking out for you. Wouldn't want people to find out what rotten-mannered staff my father-in-law has in his estate, not knowing how to show respect to even the general's wife."

"You do realise that before she became your wife, she's my daughter first." Your father sneered, and you felt sick at that, to be called his daughter when you've never once been treated as such.

Remaining unfazed, your husband retorted, "All the more reasons for them to show respect to their eldest miss then, no?"

Jongho and Eunsook bowed their heads in an effort to hide their snickers at the minister's red face flushing in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think he could win the general in an argument, "R-right. What are you fools standing around for? Show Lady Park some bloody respect!"

The line of servants bowed all the way down pathetically, "Yes, master! Good morning, General Park and Lady Park! Welcome to the Jang estate!" They chanted loudly, enough to bring about the rest of your family, coming out to witness what all the fuss was about.

"Very well, let us head in then." With a bored expression, Seonghwa walked into the hall with you, moving right past your stepmother and stepsisters intentionally, paying them no mind as he helped you into a seat before settling down beside you.

All four of the women standing in the main hall were rooted to their spots, eyes bulging as they took in the sight of you and your husband. First of all, you were nearly unrecognisable. If they thought you looked pretty on the day you got married, you were now almost a hundred times more beautiful, though they would rather die than ever admit it out loud.

Beyond your enhanced appearance, they were more taken aback by the general's beauty. He was nothing like they had imagined; he must have been one of the most attractive men ever, or at least the most handsome one they had seen so far.

Suddenly, your stepsisters were even angrier than they were upon learning about your stupid grand wedding. They were now furious with their father for never having told them about how good-looking General Park truly was. If only they knew, they would have volunteered to marry him themselves.

But what if there was still hope for them?

What if they had a chance?

After all, you hadn't officially wed Seonghwa yet and were merely here to discuss plans for the upcoming ceremony. Perhaps, with enough effort, they could still win him over. If a peasant like you could seduce the general, why couldn't any of them? With this determination in mind, the three stepsisters promptly began adjusting their appearances as you all gathered around the main hall.

You didn't appreciate the way your stepsisters were eyeing your husband, although you understood their motives. Sensing your discomfort, Seonghwa moved closer to you in his seat, whispering in your ear, "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"

Nodding lightly, you looked up with a small smile, "I am, as long as you're with me," He couldn't resist smiling at your words as he gave you a gentle peck on the head, "Good."

That should be me!

The three stepsisters clenched their fists, their fury intensifying as they witnessed the handsome general being affectionate with you. It should have been them; the title of the general's wife was more befitting a noblewoman like them, not a rat like you. How dare you sit there in their place as if you deserved it?

In an attempt to break the silence, Jinah cleared her throat and made her move, "Have you been well, unnie? I missed you so much! Did you know how worried I was about you? You must have had such a hard time, especially after you adamantly refused to marry General Park."

Seonghwa raised a brow in amusement, while you remained quiet, unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie. Jinjoo scoffed at your lack of response, "Unnie! Will you really not answer Jinah at all? You've always been like that, so ungrateful when we care so much about you!"

"Really? My wife being ungrateful? That's wild. I cannot imagine her like that at all." Your husband chuckled, holding you close when he felt you begin to tremble.

Jinhee's fists shook with envy as she nodded pitifully, "Yes, that's because you haven't known her well enough, my lord. She can be so scary when she's mad, you know how the eldest usually are."

Minister Jang rubbed a tired hand over his head when he realised what his stepdaughters were trying to do. Of course, these foolish girls would easily be blinded by the general's appearance. Even his own wife, seated beside him, found it difficult to take her eyes off the gorgeous young man.

Jongho and Eunsook, positioned behind you and their master, were making every effort to contain the irritation they felt. The audacity of these women to feign innocence after what they've put you through all these years. They were once again thankful not to have any of these conniving foxes as their mistress.

Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, Seonghwa laughed sarcastically in disbelief, "I'm sorry, I just find that so hard to believe. Are you sure you're not all talking about yourselves?" In an instant, his smile dropped, and he sent your stepsisters a death stare as if daring them to continue spouting more ridiculous lies about you.

Left in stunned silence, they blinked nervously and avoided his eyes, unprepared for his questioning. It was clear that they hadn't planned their silly little act thoroughly.

Damn it, how did that worthless thing manage to gain his favour?

"That's enough." The minister declared firmly, not wanting his stepdaughters to continue embarrassing themselves. All he wanted was to get the general out of his house as soon as possible. Every moment that Seonghwa remained felt like a threat; your father was walking on eggshells around him.

Pushing himself off his seat, the old man addressed your husband, "You mentioned wanting to see the environment your wife grew up in, right? Let's proceed with that before we delve into discussions about your wedding arrangements. I don't have all day."

"Sure, can't wait." Seonghwa responded smugly, standing up with your hand securely in his. A sense of unease washed over you as you wondered what kind of deception your father would employ. Surely, they wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal your actual room to the general. Dread filled you, and you longed to return home.

Your real home, not this nightmare.

« Preview of Part 9 »

As you all followed the minister around the estate while he showed the general what was supposed to be your old room, Jongho exchanged a glance with the private investigator who was still posing as a staff member in the estate.

"This is unnie's room; she has the biggest and nicest one out of all of us. She's so lucky and doesn't even know it. I'm the youngest and I have the smallest room; I'd honestly be happy to have anything at all." Jinjoo said innocently, playing with a strand of hair as she batted her eyelashes at Seonghwa.

You stared blankly at the room supposedly designated as yours. It was merely a guest room rearranged with some of your stepsisters' belongings to create the illusion of long-term habitation. Sensing Jinah and Jinhee's intense gazes on you, you turned to find them glaring daggers at you as if daring you to speak up and disclose the truth to your husband.

If you voiced your denial, who would believe you? It was your entire family against you alone. Would there even be a point in trying?

Just as doubt started to creep in, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, reminding you of his support, "Is that true, my dear? Is this your room? It doesn't really seem to be your style at all."

Everyone held their breath, awaiting your response, but you remained silent, fixing your gaze on the familiar space where you spent your entire life, now masquerading as a storeroom.

"What is it that you're staring at so intently, hm? Let's go take a look."

Oh, crap.

Shit will go down in the next part, I assure you. Patience, my dearest readers, patience HAHA this part was focused more on setting the stage for the main event.😈

Also, I've created a mood board for this fic. If you haven't already checked it out, go take a look! I might consider making another one that depicts Seonghwa's estate if I'm able to find the right images.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/3): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178

Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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insanely-lovely-and-random · 12 days

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Ohhh boy wow. Just saw Challengers and my God my bisexual brain was firing all signals. Like within the first five minutes I realised 2 things about this movie. 1 it understands that tennis is a truly boring sport and instead makes it an incredibly sweaty, sexy, compelling game to watch. 2 this movie is bi as all hell and equally in love with all 3 of these people (as was I by the end of the movie).

SPOILERS:

God I was enraptured I think this films pretty subjective and can be seen in a few different ways but I just saw it as 3 people who think their playing the same game but none of them really are. Zendayas playing to win at Tennis, when she can't do it herself she plays through her husband. Art is playing to win the woman he thinks he loves and needs.

And Patrick is the most interesting of all, is he playing because unlike those two he actually needs to out of monetary needs? Maybe but doubt it. Is he playing to win Zendaya? And willing to be her champion unlike Art? Possibly but honestly I think it's the third option. He's playing to get back Art, Art is always a presense in their relationship and he puts him before himself. For sure the unusual sexual history between them is there. The strong friendship turned rivalry. The sheer sexual tension (Goddamn that churro!!) But oddly enough for the guy who may seem like the disloyal asshole type of the three he is both the most honest and oddly loyal. He may sleep with Zendaya but the second she asks him to throw the match? He's furious, he's insulted and refuses. But NOT for himself but for Art. His first words are "How could you do that to Art?" To cheapen his victory, if he were to know would crush Art. Art is always at the tip of his tounge and whats happening.

When they start making out in the dorm Zendaya won't stop talking about tennis but equally whats Patrick talking about? Art. When he finds out Arts not just interested in Zendaya but is acting snakey he's proud.

And god that sauna scene?? (I mean yeah its hot but I mean the dialouge!) He asks Art if he'd miss it and he completely doesn't understand what he's really asking. He once again is talking to somone who thinks their talking about tennis but he's talking about anything but.

I knew that bloody signal was gonna come back and when they had sex in the car I was like "okay this is it, he's gonna tell Art" but the question was.. will it be to hinder him? Make him lose his cool so he loses the game..? OR will he do it to truly spur Art into a game changing rage and unlock his fighting spirit? And as the scene unfolded I belived it was the latter. And it was NOT for Zendaya because he could've easily thrown the match like she said but NO he wanted Art to win fair and square. He wanted to help him do that.

That wordless communication they share? That Zendayas just sat on the outside of not undertanding but worried? Golden. The brutal match and then that gorgeous smile. When I think Art realises what his friend has done and really why he did it. And Patricks, the sheer joy of seeing Art smile at him again. That beautiful, fly through the air and that throw of his own racket down so he can catch Art as he gloriously wins the match. Because tennis was never really what mattered to Patrick, and neither was it really to Art. And despite it being Arts victory they've really both won.

And Zendayas roar of victory from the crowd to me was almost funny. Because she won too. Her husband, her extension of her own career and self won his match with his challenge. His/her past. She also sees it as a victory even though I really won't be suprised if it's lost her both her husband and her back up career/boyfriend. And maybe she won't mind that so much because she got what she wanted. Because she was playing a different game.

Also banging soundtrack, loved it. Also this is just my view of the film and it really can be read multiple ways I'm sure, would love to hear other peoples ideas on it! What can I say I just love some bi emotional drama!

Also Im seeing it again friday so any incorrect quotes, extra thoughts or such I'll probs fix then haha

#challengers #challengers spoilers #zendaya #mike faist #bisexual #movie analysis #but seriously the bi vibes #the camera that felt so generless and fluid #the harsh and loud noise was glorious #josh o'connor #challengers 2024 #challengers movie

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youremyheaven · 1 month

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Ashlesha & The Toxic Relationships

Tw: abuse, incest, rape, death, domestic violence

I feel like Ashlesha's mommy issues have been covered by others before but I really wanted to explore how Ashlesha nakshatra natives often find themselves in toxic relationships, be it in their own homes or in romantic relationships. I think many of the patterns many people repeat in adult relationships has its roots in their childhood relationships with their family and I see this very evident with many Ashlesha natives. They're often abused at home and later suffer abuse at the hands of partners.

Halle Berry Ashlesha Sun

Halle's father was a violent man who abused her mother repeatedly. He abandoned them when she was 4 and she's been estranged from him since.

She moved with her mother and sister to an all-white neighbourhood where she was exposed to racial discrimination while attending school. Halle admits that these struggles motivated her to succeed. Later in the ’90s, when she moved to New York to pursue her acting career, she was forced to stay in a homeless shelter for a while because she couldn’t afford accommodations.

In 2011, Halle said: "It was only when I was in an abusive relationship and blood squirted on the ceiling of my apartment and I lost 80% of my hearing in my ear that I realised, I have to break the cycle."

Halle is divorced from Gabriel Aubry (in photo with her above) who, she accused of being a racist (he used racial slurs towards her and their daughter), refused to acknowledge their daughter as biracial and court documents revealed that Berry accused him of having been in an incestuous relationship with a family member, abusing their daughter and even revealed the couple only had sex three times a year, with Aubry struggling with the effects of his incestuous relationship.

Charlize Theron- Ashlesha Sun, Moon & Mercury

One night, when her verbally abusive alcoholic father came home with his brother after drinking heavily, he threatened her mother with a gun. He began shooting and Theron's mother grabbed her gun and shot back, killing Theron's father and wounding his brother. Police later determined it was self-defence. They later moved to America so Charlize could pursue an acting career.

Lily Collins, Ashlesha Moon

Lily Collins says she was once in a toxic relationship where she faced "verbal and emotional abuse" that made her feel "very small." Looking back, Lily says her then-boyfriend silenced her feelings and even fuelled emotions of "panic" and "anxiety" -- and it's something that still affects her even though she’s now in a healthy relationship.

"He would call me 'Little Lily'…and he'd use awful words about me in terms of what I was wearing and would call me a whore and all these things," she said on the "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast. "There were awful words and then there were belittling words. I became quite silent and comfortable in silence and feeling like I had to make myself small to feel super safe."

Tina Turner, Ashlesha Rising

Tina’s violent marriage with Ike Turner is well known, largely thanks to the film based on her life, What’s Love Got To Do With It. In the film the singer suffered severe beatings, was raped and had cigarettes stubbed out on her body. Her husband Ike is portrayed as a violent, controlling sociopath, and when Tina’s autobiography was published Ike actually admitted that the book was largely accurate. The pair were married for 16 years before Tina had the courage to leave. Ike is now dead.

I found something she said in an interview to closely correlate to Ashlesha:

"Part of my spiritual practice is to “change poison into medicine,” to take negative situations or roadblocks and transform or remove them through positivity. The force of my positivity pushed all the discriminatory “isms” standing in my way right out the window."

Whitney Houston- Ashlesha Sun & Venus

Their turbulent relationship is well documented, but even though the rumors were that Bobby used to hit Whitney, she actually claimed it was the other way round. In an interview with the Associated Press over 10 years ago, the singing star said: “Contrary to belief, I do the hitting, he doesn’t. He has never put his hands on me. We are crazy for one another. I mean crazy in love, love, love, love, love. When we’re fighting, it’s like that’s love for us. We’re fighting for our love.” Brown, however, was later arrested in 2003 for misdemeanour battery, several years after Whitney said this. The pair eventually divorced after 15 years of marriage in 2007.

Unfortunately, Whitney passed away in 2012 and I firmly believe Bobby did it. Her daughter, Bobbi Brown also passed away in the exact same way in 2015 and there's just no way those 2 deaths were a coincidence. Anytime I hear news of anybody dying in their bathtub after overdosing on a cocktail of drugs, I just know they were murdered. Its very easy to write off deaths as suicide or to make it look like one. Its all the more convincing if the person has a history of drug abuse.

Sridevi, Ashlesha Sun & Rising

Sridevi was forced into acting by her mother (who aspired to be an actress and had failed in her pursuit) when she was 2-3yrs old. Sridevi never received formal education and appeared in 200 films by the time she was 25 years old (she did 300 films total). Her mother and stepfather had another daughter whom they favoured. Sridevi was the cash cow of the household. It was once reported that Sridevi would come home from a long day of filming and spend many hours massaging her mother's feet at night instead of sleeping. Her mother once locked up Sridevi in a dark room and starved her as a 5-year-old because she was too scared to do a scene that involved fire. She became a heroine at the age of 11 years and was paired opposite men who had played her grandad onscreen when she was a child star🤮🤮🤮she was sexually assaulted by many of these men as a child and teenager. Sridevi's mother managed all her finances and did not permit her to go out or meet others and she did not even know how to do virtually anything by herself as her mother kept her under lock and key.

Her husband Boney Kapoor is a movie producer who was married to another woman and had 2 kids when he first met Sridevi. He creepily wooed her for 10 years but Sridevi paid him no mind. In 1995, Sridevi's mother passed away and Boney took full advantage of her vulnerability because even though she was 32, she was basically a child due to the way her mother forced her to live. Sridevi had no one to rely on (her stepfather had died many years prior and her sister sued her for properties and since she was so isolated, she had no friends despite being such a huge star) and Boney took her in. She lived with Boney and his wife and kids but before you knew it, Sridevi was impregnated by him and he soon divorced his wife and married her. In 2018, Sridevi was found dead in a bathtub in Dubai under suspicious circumstances. The case was wrapped up pretty quickly and no one really knows what happened. She allegedly "drowned" but like I said, I dont think all these celebs drowning in their bathtubs is a coincidence.

Zsa Zsa Gabor- Ashlesha Moon

She was married 9 times and many of those marriages were hella toxic. She was married to Conrad Hilton (Paris Hilton's great-grandfather)

She said of the marriage:

"Conrad's decision to change my name from Zsa Zsa to Georgia symbolized everything my marriage to him would eventually become. My Hungarian roots were to be ripped out and my background ignored. ... I soon discovered that my marriage to Conrad meant the end of my freedom. My own needs were completely ignored: I belonged to Conrad."

Gabor's only child, daughter Constance Francesca Hilton, was born in 1947. According to Gabor's 1991 autobiography, One Lifetime Is Not Enough, her pregnancy resulted from rape by then-husband Conrad Hilton.

Marilyn Monroe- Ashlesha Rising

Marilyn had a very difficult life. She grew up in foster homes, her mother was schizophrenic and her father was an alcoholic. Her marriages were unhappy and she was treated like shit by the industry. I don't want to elaborate too much because I feel like everyone already knows about her life story but its truly tragic how things were for her :((

Lucille Ball- Ashlesha Sun

She was married to her onscreen husband Desi Arnaz and they had a horrible toxic marriage where he cheated on her repeatedly and emotionally abused her. He was also an alcoholic.

Bella Hadid, Mars in Ashlesha atmakaraka

"I constantly went back to men -- and also, women -- that had abused me, and that's where the people-pleasing came in," Hadid said on the Victoria's Secret podcast, "VS Voices." "I started to not have boundaries, not only sexually, physically, emotionally, but then it went into my workspace….I began to be a people-pleaser with my job and it was everyone else's opinion of me that mattered except for my own, because I essentially was putting my worth into the hands of everyone else and that was the detriment of it."

Everybody already knows that Yolanda is toxic as hell, made Bella get a nose job at 14yrs of age and in Bella's own words she was made to feel like the "uglier sister".

Viola Davis, Ashlesha Sun

She and her sisters were sexually abused by their brother. "Sexual abuse back in the day didn't have a name. The abusers were called 'dirty old men' and the abused were called 'fast' or 'heifers,'" she wrote in her memoir.

Davis wrote about the volatile relationship between her empathetic mother and her violent, alcoholic father. With brutal candidness, she channels the unrelenting terror of living in a household of domestic abuse: “There are not enough pages to mention the fights, the constantly being awakened in the middle of the night or coming home after school to my dad’s rages and praying he wouldn’t lose so much control that he would kill my mom.”

Lil Kim, Ashlesha Moon

When she sat down for a candid interview with Newsweek back in 2000, the rapper revealed that she developed a complex about her appearance thanks to a string of unsavory suitors. "All my life men have told me I wasn't pretty enough — even the men I was dating," she revealed. "I'd be like, 'Well, why are you with me, then? I have low self-esteem and I always have," she admitted. "Guys always cheated on me with women who were European-looking. You know, the long-hair type. Really beautiful women. That left me thinking, 'How can I compete with that?' Being a regular black girl wasn't good enough."

It wasn't just the men she dated in her early days that messed with Lil Kim's head — according to the rapper, her own father added to her issues. Her parents divorced when she was 8 and, despite the fact that she wanted to remain with her mother, her dad won custody. When she spoke to Newsweek ahead of the release of her second studio album, The Notorious K.I.M, she revealed that her father would regularly make her feel as though she wasn't good enough. "It was like I could do nothing right," she recalled. "Everything about me was wrong — my hair, my clothes, just me."

Ella Fitzgerald, Ashlesha Rising

At a young 15 years old, Fitzgerald was left motherless and fatherless. To make matters worse, she began being abused by her stepfather. The beatings were physical, but they scared her emotionally as well. She was a beaten and battered child. Her grades fell to be nearly unrecoverable, and she began skipping school regularly. It was an era of racial segregation and Ella is also believed to have been physically abused by her teachers along with some other black students.

Ella and Marilyn were good friends and are said to have bonded over their similarly traumatic lives.

Katie Holmes, Ashlesha Moon & Rising

She escaped an abusive marriage with the sociopathic Tom Cruise and his cult??? need I say more?? I am so happy she is alive and well and that she has managed to protect her daughter as well. Scientologists are insane people who absolutely destroy the lives of anybody who tries to leave their system so its a miracle that Katie is alive and doing well.

Glenn Close, Ashlesha Rising

I don't know what it is about Ashleshas and being trapped/escaping a cult but I've noticed several Ashlesha natives all have this experience

Oscar-nominated actress Glenn Close, for example, was part of a cult called the Moral Re-Armament, from the young age of 7 all the way up to 22. “If you talk to anybody who was in a group that basically dictates how you’re supposed to live and what you’re supposed to say and how you’re supposed to feel, from the time you’re 7 till the time you’re 22, it has a profound impact on you,” she once told The Hollywood Reporter.

Patricia Arquette- Ashlesha Moon

Oscar winner Patricia Arquette wasn’t just raised in Virginia’s Skymont Subud cult, but her parents were the founders of it. The so-called “spiritual movement” was known for not allowing access to bathrooms, electricity, or running water in the name of “inner guidance.”

While still living with her family, she and her family left the commune to return to a more conventional life. Per ABC, however, the Arquette family wasn’t any better at that time either. “There was a lot of drama in the house,” Arquette said in an interview with Oprah Winfrey. “There were a lot of chairs flying around.”

Brie Larson- Ketu in Ashlesha

Brie starred in two movies, The Glass Castle & The Room that both deal with abusive relationships (she is the one stuck in them)

Our Ketu placement is where we draw our creativity from, so its interesting that Brie has played so many characters who have to deal with toxicity.

According to Hindu mythology, Ashlesha nakshatra is associated with the story of the Naga King Vasuki. It is said that Vasuki and his wife were cursed by a sage to become snakes. In order to lift the curse, they sought the help of Lord Vishnu, who advised them to perform a penance in the ashram of a sage named Jaratkaru. After performing the penance, the sage granted their wish and they were able to regain their human form. Since then, Ashlesha nakshatra has been associated with transformation and the power of penance.

In the list of celebrities I have mentioned, many of them survived their abuse and went on to live good lives but many others met with tragic ends. Being "cursed" is part of Ashlesha's mythology, which is why they receive an unfair share of bad experiences and abuse but to perform penance is very very important and something not many are going to be able to do. When so many terrible things happen to you, you're bound to think "why me? I'm a good person, I don't deserve this" and that's absolutely true, no one deserves abuse but the ones who can outlive these negative circumstances are the ones who can in Tina Turner's words "turn poison into medicine". Penance literally means inflicting punishment upon oneself but what it actually means in this context is to turn all your negative experiences that feel like you're being punished into something you can rise up above against. Poison is also part of Ashlesha's lore and while this does make Ashlesha natives rather malicious and manipulative towards others, they need to be able to use this poison as medicine to heal themselves. Otherwise, they end up succumbing to it.

#astrology notes #vedic astro notes #astrology observations #sidereal astrology #nakshatras #astrology #vedic astrology #astro observations #astroblr #astro notes #ashlesha #mercury #jyotish #astro community

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flowerandblood · 9 months

Text

The Impossible Choice (31)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

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He thought he had gone completely and utterly mad − when he wasn't planning for war, he lay in a makeshift tent next to his wife, crying once from happiness that she had survived, once from despair, because the wounds that she had sustained were going to leave marks on her body forever.

He thought that she would never forgive him.

He ordered Alys to show him how to handle and treat her wounds, and then told her never to go near her again.

She only owed it to the fact that she had helped save her that she still had both hands.

He would have cut them off for her daring to touch her cheek and hand.

She'd wanted to drag him to her bed, and now she was pretending to worry about his wife.

Insolent whore.

When he first pulled the bandage off her arm and saw how red and cracked her skin was, he covered his mouth with his hand to keep from starting to wail loudly.

He had done this to her.

He and his family.

He applied ointment to her wounds slowly and carefully, wanting to make sure that everything healed as quickly as possible.

He knew that her scars would remain.

Her whole left arm, thigh and side would be covered with them.

His wife's beautiful, wonderful, delicate body destroyed by fire.

He was afraid of what would happen once she opened her eyes, what he would see in her gaze when she realised what he had done to her.

What her beloved husband had done to her.

Borros Baratheon's army arrived at dawn the day after Prince Daemon's attack on Harrenhal. Lord Borros and his son rode into Harrenhal on horseback along with their warriors, banners with the embroidered stag flapping loudly in the wind.

They found an appalling sight and hundreds of burnt bodies.

Lord Borros refused to speak to him − furious he dismounted from his horse and ordered to led him to his daughter.

He watched in silence as her father knelt by her side, her older brother beside him − the two bearded, muscular, serious men pressed their lips together, their eyes red as they saw how much of her body was burned. Her father touched her cheek as if she were made of glass, and he felt his throat squeeze at the sight.

"Why is she asleep?" Her brother asked impatiently in a breaking voice, walking towards him, furious. He looked at him, tired and discouraged, having not slept in peace either of the last two nights.

"Poppy milk. So that she does not suffer." He said calmly, but his words only angered her brother.

"So that she doesn't suffer?" He asked mockingly, stepping close to him.

Too close for his liking.

"I gave you my youngest sister to look after, and you brought her to the battlefield in the middle of a war?" He asked furiously. He did not even flinch at his words.

"My uncle's attack took us all by surprise." Said truthfully. Borros Baratheon laughed, rising from his knees, looking at him with pity.

"The Targaryens like to surprise each other, don't they, boy? Brothers take their sisters' crowns, uncles burn their nephews." He said loudly, approaching him slowly, Royce snorted, stepping back, allowing his father to speak. Lord Baratheon looked at him indulgently, his eyes red with the grief.

"You took my beloved child from me. You did not protect her. You are nothing, you and your brother. Me and my army are only here for her. Your uncle will pay me for what he did." He hissed, turning away, heading for the exit.

"I will convene a council with my commanders in an hour. Come if you still want to play at war." He threw him over his shoulder and disappeared outside.

He swallowed these humiliating words, clenching his jaw.

He was furious and it was boiling inside him, but he knew that he deserved it.

Some part of him was glad he had said it.

He had joined the meeting along with Criston Cole, leaving his wife in the care of her brother.

He knew Royce hated him, but as far as she was concerned, he trusted only him and their father.

He began the meeting by outlining what the situation was.

"My uncle has located himself in the Eyrie along with his dragon and an army transported by Clorys Velaryon. He found refuge with his wife's relatives." He said, placing a few pawns on the right side of the map.

"I suspect he wanted to pull all our armies onto the battlefield and force my brother to move to help. Then my half-sister would want to take King's Landing right away, so we can't bring all our troops here." He said calmly. Lord Baratheon laughed at his words.

"Your brother sits in his keep like a cunt. Who will support a King who takes no part in his own war? Is that not what the Hand of the King is for, to rule the state on his behalf?" He sneered, several of his commanders nodding at his words. Criston Cole moved restlessly at his side, tightening his lips. He looked at him in silence.

"It would be better for my brother not to be here. War is not his passion." He said shortly. Lord Borros laughed low at his words, leaning over the wooden table and maps before them.

"So is ruling." He hissed, Aemond casting him a warning, dark look.

"Be careful, my Lord. Your words could be considered treason." He said slowly, not taking his eye off him.

He swore to the gods.

He swore that if they spared her, he would relinquish his dreams of the throne.

That he would be a good brother.

They measured each other's gazes for a moment, then Lord Baratheon gave in, sighing heavily, and they moved on to discussing the position of the armies.

Despite the advantage he had created for himself, his uncle did not attack them again, and he did not understand why.

He figured that he had been waiting for them to make a move, watching for sure what army they would be able to assemble. He believed that he wanted to draw out as many of them as possible to take King's Landing and they couldn't let him do that.

After the council, he came out of the tent and saw, surprised that Royce was going somewhere, apparently leaving his wife alone. He approached him, frowning his eyebrows, enraged, but his brother only threw him a quick, impassive glance.

"She's awake." He said, stepping around him, and his heart froze.

She was awake.

His wife was alive and conscious.

He pressed his lips together, feeling his heart pounding, his chest tightening painfully.

He forced himself to head towards the tent and plucked up the courage to go inside.

He saw her, lying on the bedding, her eyes wide at the sight of him. They both looked at each other like that, pain, suffering and disbelief on their faces − he felt a sting in his heart seeing that her cheeks were wet, that she was crying.

That she had realised what had happened to her.

He approached her uncertainly and knelt beside her, touching her cheek gently, rubbing the wetness from her skin with his thumb, afraid that she was about to scream for him to get out.

"How are you feeling?" He asked weakly, uncertainly, feeling his throat tighten.

For some reason he felt like crying from happiness and despair at the same time, for the umpteenth time in days.

She was alive, but she would always hate him, just as he hated Luke for what he had done to him.

He saw her swallow quietly and blink, breathing unevenly, scared and tired.

"Good." She choked out, and he felt that she too spoke with difficulty.

That she was devastated by what had happened.

He saw after a moment a wave of tears gather under her eyelids, her soft lips tightened in pain, her eyebrows arched in helplessness.

He knew what she was thinking about.

She was a woman, how he perceived her physically, if he found her beautiful and desired her as a husband was an important part of her confidence.

He knew that just as he feared she would be disgusted by his lack of an eye, she feared her wounds and scars would disgust him. He, however, only dreamed that once they had healed, he would kiss them with reverence and anointing, proof of his beloved wife's devotion to him, her total commitment.

He lay down next to her, laying on his side, looking at her beautiful, warm face, the face of his wife next to whom he had woken up every morning for almost a year.

Next to his wife whom he had ripped from her father's arms and made his own, whom he had fucked all nights, filling her with his seed.

His fingertips traveled over the soft skin of her cheek − he felt a single, lonley tear of pain and suffering involuntarily fall from his eye.

"− forgive me −" He whispered in a trembling voice, looking at her pleadingly. He saw her pupils dilate, her lips tremble, pain and warmth in her gaze, a feeling that made him hot.

He shuddered and sighed as her soft hand touched his cheek, her forehead pressed against his, his lungs filled with her wonderful scent − he felt his cock pulsate hard under his armour.

He longed to unite with her body and soul.

He desired to thrust deep into her more than ever before.

He leaned towards her, his lips brushing hers, when suddenly someone stepped inside the tent. He pulled away, terrified, and rose, breathing loudly.

He looked impassively at her brother who was holding a bowl of soup, feeling his heart pounding quickly, his manhood completely hard and swollen.

"I'll take care of it." He said, reaching out for the bowl, willing him to leave them alone. Her brother snorted at his words.

"Are you caring now? Where were you when she was on fire? Why do you and your drunken brother who hides in the Red Keep like a fucking cunt, always get away with everything, while my sister is disfigured for the rest of her life?" He hissed angrily, and his insides boiled over.

His wife was not disfigured.

His wife was beautiful.

"My wife is not disfigured, Lord Royce. Nothing can disfigure her, and the wounds she has sustained will eventually heal." He said with emphasis, glaring at him menacingly.

They began to argue until his wife, impatient, told them both to leave, again on the verge of crying. Royce pressed his lips together, placing the bowl of her soup beside her bed after which he left the tent, throwing him a threatening, hateful look. He looked at her, tightening her lips.

"I won't leave." He said lowly.

Even if she didn't want to see him, he wasn't going to leave her alone.

She needed help with the dressings changes and someone had to watch over her.

He had become obsessed with it and wouldn't let anyone else near her.

"Where's Alys?" She asked indifferently, stirring a wooden spoon in her food. He pressed his lips together at the thought that she might want her to look after her instead of him.

He didn't like the idea.

"She's treating the wounded. Shall I summon her?" He asked cautiously and she shook her head, not raising her eyes at him. He sighed quietly and knelt beside her again, looking at her tenderly.

"May I stay?" He asked softly, his throat tightening again with pain and fear that she would tell him to get out. She, however, swallowed quietly and after a long moment, nodded.

He breathed a sigh of relief and summoned his servant to help him pull off his armour. They spoke for a while about the war situation and their plans, until he was left in only his shirt and breeches, and their servant finally left them alone.

He looked at her uncertainly and walked over to the bed, sitting down on it, looking at her over his shoulder, playing with his fingers.

She didn't say much and he didn't know what she was thinking, what she thought of him.

He wanted her to shout out to him that she was furious with him and hated him, but she was sweet and calm as always, and his heart was breaking.

"Can I sleep next to you?" He asked quietly and she set the empty bowl aside with a quiet hiss, apparently through a lot of discomfort, as she moved the burned part of her body. She pressed her lips together, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course. Who else would you sleep next to? Next to Alys?" She asked lowly, feigning indifference, and he hid his face in his hands, devastated by her words and the fact that she thought that he might have shared his bed with her.

"Have mercy on me. At least you." He said weakly, feeling that the last few days had worn him down and he was barely able to stay on his feet. He shuddered when he felt the touch of her hand on his shoulder − he looked at her surprised and touched her palm with his fingers, stroking it steadily.

"Lie down, husband. Rest." She said softly. He hummed under his breath and nodded, his heart beating like mad.

She didn't push him away.

He lay down on the side where she didn't have any burns, so as not to accidentally cause her pain. He touched her shoulder gently, and then her face, looking at her with dreamy, tired eye. He saw the heat and warmth in her eyes from which his cock pulsed in his breeches.

He craved her.

He craved her as he had never before in his life.

He kissed her tentatively, barely brushing her puffy lips, wanting to see how she would react to this, whether she would pull away from him, but she only sighed softly, so sweetly, so warmly that encouraged, with a pounding heart he deepened the kiss, sinking into her moist flesh, heard her moan softly as his tongue slid between her lips.

He slid his hand down her healthy thigh, placing it between her legs, running it gently over her hot, slick womanhood hidden beneath her chemise.

"− does it hurt? −" He asked low, his voice trembling, feeling her warm breath on his face.

"− no −" She whispered softly, and he already knew what he wanted to give her.

He craved it, craved the comfort of her arms, to sink deep into her and come inside her, to fill her with his seed, begging her forgiveness, assuring her of his unrelenting admiration for the beauty of her body.

But he knew that he would cause her pain, that they would have to stop and they would both be unfulfilled − he wanted her to at least experience that, to know that he wasn't just thinking about himself.

That he had changed.

He had promised the gods that he would be a better husband.

He watched with delight as she came under the touch of his hand, her hot, tight insides clenching steadily against his fingers, sweet, drawn-out moans coming from her mouth from which his cock swell with pain and desire.

She felt it and wanted to touch him, but he held her back. He didn't want her in the state she was in, with her whole body aching, to focus on him and the fact that he wanted to fuck.

However, he was under no illusion that once her wounds had healed, he would have no mercy for her.

To his despair, she would not let him help her change her bandages or apply the ointment − she wanted to do it herself and asked him to leave for that time.

He tried to explain to her that he was the last person to be impressed by such a sight, but he accepted that she felt uncomfortable, that the state of her body filled her with pain, uncertainty and saddness.

Her father's maester who had travel with them from Storm's End took over her care, and he was the only one she allowed to examine herself.

Everytime he left he questioned him thoroughly and was relieved each time the medic told him that her wounds were healing properly and scarring slowly − she no longer had open wounds and her skin no longer ached, but it was still red.

Although they had always slept bare until now, his wife now wore long nightdresses covering her body − she did not want him to look at her and tied the material up, so that not a scrap of burned skin could be seen.

He suffered at the sight, but he did not want to force her to do anything against her will.

On the first day when she no longer had to wear the dressings, she smiled at him as she had before all this happened, walking around the tent and speaking about something lightly.

He watched her, sitting on their bedding, waiting for her to join him and untangle her braid.

The Maester had told her that with quick attention to the burns and their proper care the wounds would heal better and be less visible than originally thought.

Looking at her, behaving again as she had when they were in King's Landing, he felt desire and had the impression that he would explode − for days he had lain beside her at night, unable to touch her, to feel her, and ashamed to relieve himself with his hand in her presence.

He felt like he was going to go mad.

When she extinguished the last candle and he felt her slip under the covers, her warmth right beside him, he thought that he couldn't take it anymore.

"− turn your back on me −" He gasped, seeing how she wanted to cling to his chest. He saw her surprised look, however, she did meekly what he asked.

He immediately pressed his swollen manhood hidden in his breeches against her buttocks, clenching his hand on her healthy hip, pressing his face against her neck, rubbing himself against her with intense, rocking movements.

"− gods, I need this −" He exhaled helplessly and felt her whole body tremble − she began to breathe faster, her buttocks bucking against his cock, making a low, helpless sound came from his throat.

"− me too − please −" She moaned softly, embarrassed by their shared desperation − she pulled her nightgown up as he quickly untied his breeches and lowered them, his hard, swollen erection slapping against her bare skin.

They were both panting loudly as his hands quickly lifted her hips, directing the fat head of his cock to her puffy, moist slit. Unable to stop himself, he slided into her with one, sure thrust of his hips, deep, all the way in, making a low, almost animalistic sound.

He tightened his hand on her hip and began to slam into her like a mad, panting and moaning along with her, their bodies hot and yearning, hitting against each other with a sticky, loud slaps each time he slid into her again, streching her tight, throbbing walls apart.

"− gods, yes − I missed that − fuck, tell me if it hurts −" He exhaled helplessly, fucking her with all his might, possessed only by lust, pounding into her so deeply that she sobbed in front of him, clasping her hands over his palms, her hips responding fervently to his every thrust.

"− oh, yes − Aemond, please, harder −" She mumbled pleadingly, and those words were enough to make him lose control completely.

He slipped out of her suddenly and forced her to lie on her back. He spread her legs in front of him, paying no attention to the fact that she was trying to cover the burns on her thigh − he took her hand away, not allowing her to cover herself, untying her shirt, wanting to reveal her breasts.

"− no −." She whispered pleadingly, gripping his wrists. "− please −"

He hesitated, seeing her face, terrified and hot, tears filling in her eyes.

He thought that she was beautiful.

That she was his.

He pulled his eye patch from his eye and saw her draw in a loud breath as he removed the sapphire from his eye socket in one sure movement, setting it down on the bed beside them.

That was just the way he was.

He knew what she saw before her.

There was a dark hole in the left side of his face, partially obscured by his drooping eyelid − him, without any embellishment or pretense, his body, scarred and disfigured in all its glory.

He saw her lift her trembling hand and touch his cheek with a sweet, warm smile on her face.

Her touch as always gentle, tender, full of acceptance.

He thought he loved her.

"− let me fuck my wife the way I want to −" He gasped, grasping the strings from her nightgown with his fingers, but this time her hands did not stop him. He slipped her shirt off her shoulders, one light, the other red, slightly cracked like thirsty earth − he stared at her, thinking that he felt nothing but adoration for her.

He exposed her wonderful, plump breasts, spreaded her legs and knelt in front of her, slipping with ease into her slick, leaking cunt. He began to root into into her even more intensely and brutally than before, panting and moaning along with her, her body writhing beneath him with pleasure and indecision, her hands clenching helplessly on his shirt, her gaze expressing a plea for fulfilment.

"− just like that − a good husband knows what's best for his wife − he knows how to fuck her to make her feel good −" He exclaimed, licking his lips with his tongue, feeling that he was on the verge of orgasm as much as she was. She cried out at his words, his thighs slapping against her buttocks loudly and perversely, their shared juices leaking onto the bedding beneath them. "− isn't that right? −"

"− yes −" She mewled, giving herself to him completely, his cock rubbing against her upper wall with each thrust, bringing her body to spasms with pleasure, her lips parted wide in sweet moans.

"− oh gods, please − fuck me − fuck me − fuck me! −" She sobbed loudly and he moaned low at her words, his thrusts deep, quick and sure.

"− my sweetest − oh, fuck! −" He exhaled, tilting his head back, feeling her walls begin to clench around him in orgasm, squeezing his seed out of him, his fulfilment strong, even painfully pleasurable.

He felt like they were both screaming in the rapture, all sweaty, hungry for their closeness.

He collapsed on top of her and she hissed loudly − he rose immediately on his elbows, looking at her horrified.

"− forgive me −" He whispered, wanting to slide out of her immediately and take the weight of his body off her, but her hands stopped him.

"− no − please −" She mumbled, looking at him embarrassed. "− just a moment longer −"

He looked at her and hummed under his breath, leaning over her again, this time being careful not to crush her with his body. He kissed her lips, running his nose over her face.

He thought with surprise that he no longer cared what he looked like.

He'd fucked her without his eye patch, without his sapphire in his eyesocket and experienced one of the best fulfillments of his life.

He smiled at the thought and she blinked, stroking his cheek with her hand, her breathing calming slowly.

"− the stone in your eye is causing you pain − you don't have to wear it in my presence, my beloved −" She said quietly, and he felt his heart squeeze at her words.

"I will not, if you also do not veil yourself from me. Your body is meant to be bare for me every night."

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insomniakisses · 11 months

Text

Unexpected News and Welcome Additions

Character: Aemond Targaryen (HOTD)

Warnings/notes: swear words, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy, aegon being an ass, aemond being a sweet baby, daemon flipping his shit, protective momma rhaenyra, happy alicent, your rhaenyras daughter u can choose adopted or not, ooc daemon? Slight ooc aegon?

Taglist: @introverbatim, @neobanguniverse,

Part one.

“We have some news.” Aemond grins, standing abruptyly silencing the chatter at the table.

All eyes direct towards him and you can see the confusion on your mother’s face, her eyes darting between the two of you. Never the less you accept his hand allowing him to pull you up next to him.

“We, well..” you pause looking at daemon how his eyes seem to stare into your soul. “We are engaged!” You cheer awkwardly.

You can see otto smiling with a nod, while alicent seems to be piecing everything together and u know she knows with the dart of her eyes towards your stomach. Helaena smiling softly at you seeming excited to have someone to talk to about married life.

On the otherside if the table you see your family, your mother gaping at you while your brothers hold blank faces and you can see the clenched jaw of daemon. Yet, the king seemed to be joyfull. “Wonderful news my dear! You have made me a very proud grandsire!” He chuckles.

Thats when shit breaks loose, aegon just had to speak up. He snickers rolling his eyes saying “Dear brother is such a pushover isn’t he mother?” You see her give him a look to shut up but as always he pays it no mind “I mean fucking the whore is one thing but to marry her once pregnant? God what kind of hold has she on you?”

You’re eyes water when all eyes turn to you, closing them and flinching into Aemond’s hold when Daemon stands. Slamming his hand on the table claiming you must have been forces that the greens were taking u hostage that it was all a plan.

It seems your mother had had enough of the dramatics, sending the children to bed including Helaena and Aegon. Before clearing the room of her husband and the hand stating this was a matter for her, Alicent, Viserys and the two of you to navigate.

—

“So.. you are to be married then?” Your mother asks tentatively causing you to bow your head in shame.

“I planned to explain to you.. But we didnt know how to tell everyone and-“

“Its okay sweet child,” the queen hums grabbing your face and kissing your head. You can’t help relax in her hold, “I can’t say i am upset to be made a grandmother again!” She grins.

“And i a proud grandsire of another fine knight or beautiful princess” the king adds, looking at your mother as if to ask for her opinion. It’s only then that you realise shes crying, the sight making you well up to.

“My baby is all grown up” she chokes out wrapping you in her arms and leaving several firm kisses to your head. Her hand unconsciously rubbing your stomach.

“Your… not mad?” You ask cautiously and she chuckles and says “how, my sweetone, could i be mad at you for falling for a mischievous second son thats also your uncle” and you cant help chuckle at the similarity between you.

—

“I cant! I can’t! FUCK! OW! Make it stop-“ you screamed squeezing your mothers hand tight as the maesters told you to push again. Your body felt like it was on fire. But your mother and Alicents soothing words lessoned your fear, slightly. You had been in labour for almost the full day and the babe seemed to refuse to be born and despite your please they seemed reluctant to let Aemond in.

Well, your mother was. You knew why deep down she was afraid that if the choice was given he would sacrifice you to save the baby. You however, knew that he would not. The thought would never cross his mind. So you begged and plead once more for him stating you would not give girl until he was with you. A task they knew you very well might do so they sent for him and the second he held your hand kissing your head and telling you he was there, was the most safe and relaxed you had felt all day.

Your son came quickly after that, a heavy and healthy baby your mother had remarked kissing your head and leaving with Alicent after she muttered her own praises of her newest grandson.

—

“We should call him Aemond.” Your husband grinned, causing you to slap his shoulder.

“No, I’m not calling him after you.” You groaned.

“And why not!?” He huffs clearly disappointed and you give him a look, “do you want me to be moaning our son’s name while we fuck?”

He shudders audibly gagging at the thought. “Perhaps not.” He sighs.

The two of you had been arguing over a name for hours, your son sound asleep in his arms as he gently rocked him.

“We could call him after someone else though”

You muse, the thought making him look up at you quizzically. “Who?”

“I was thinking Laenor…” you whispered afraid he may reject the idea but he hums nodding in approval. “A fine name from a honourable namesake, a fitting name for our little knight.”

You smile up at him, thanking the gods you got such a loving gentle husband.

“Should I let the maesters know then?” He asks, setting Laenor in your arms gently. “Yes, and could you send my mother in on your way? Id like to tell her first.”

—

“LAENOR GET BACK HERE!” You hear from your place by your husband, both of your turning to see the young prince holding what seemed to be a dragon egg while your Aegon chased after him.

The sight making you laugh, especially when Aegon reaches for the egg only for your son to dodge and throw the egg at his father. Aemond catching it with ease.

“Bested by a 3 year old, brother?” He taunts him, Aegon rolling his eyes in response snatching the egg back and placing it into the pot of hot coals by your bed side.

“Well excuse me for picking an egg out for my future nephew!” He defends, rolling his eyes when Aemond corrects him saying that he is to have a girl this time. The notion making you smile, hes always wanted a daughter to spoil.

Your silence is broken when your son pulls Aegons pants down running off in a bout of laughter.

“OI YOU LITTLE-“

—

“She’s beautiful” your mother coos, her finger moving to softly stroke the babes cheek. “That she is” Alicent joins placing a kiss to your head as she congratulates you.

“Have you thought of a name?” She quizzes looking at her son and then you.

You smile, telling them that their was really only one name that came to mind when you found out you had a daughter. You smile at your mother as you say it, “Visenya.”

She lets out a soft gasp, leaning over to kiss your cheek her heart touched that you would name your daughter that. You embrace her softly before placing the babe into her arms letting her and Alicent fawn over her as you lean back into your husbands arms.

“She’s Perfect” he whispers kissing you sofly. “Plus… Aegon’s gonna be pissed” he chuckles.

ANNNNNND DONE! i doubt there will be a part three :)

#aemond one eye #house of the dragon aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond kinslayer #hotd aemond #aemond imagines #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen #aemond imagine #aemond fic #prince aemond #house of the dragon imagines #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd imagines

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writingsofwesteros · 1 year

Note

Can u please write a fic dark!aemond × innocent reader (like young alicent with viserys) where the reader is married to aemond and he is extremely obsessed with her but she doesn't love him and is scared of him. He goes to the her rooms every evening seeking contact with her until the reader shyly advises him to go to a brothel to enjoy the touch of more experienced women, he doesn't take her refusal/advice well so he forces her to have sex with he where fills her so much that the following morning she is unable to walk

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

You were thankful for the small pieces of quiet you had been able to find in your marriage; the lessons of embroidery was one of them. It seemed fate had other plans for the evening as you gracefully sat there; creating a beautiful design for a new dress; green as ever. You were unaware of your ladies in waiting gracefully moving to stand; greeting your husband who had appeared behind you. As ever, leaning against the wall with his eye only for you.

It took you a moment longer to realise the audience the room had as you gracefully moved to stand. “My Prince…” You whispered out breathlessly; your eyes locked onto him as a soft gulp escaped you. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute as all you could do was stare at each other for a moment.

He bowed his head with those lips of his turned up into a near smirk. “Wife..” Aemond whispered out. You looked to your ladies in waiting finally before silently dismissing them; your heart skipping at the idea of being left alone with him. The door fell shut with an echoing sound around the room.

“I thought you would still be training.” You whispered out, babbling slightly as you wished for the tense silence to end. He only hummed, as always; a sound you had come to grow nervous for as he finally leaned away from the wall. “I decided to end it early.” The Prince finally replied back to you.

You softly bowed your head; a gulp stuck in your throat as you nervously began to play with your fingers. “I wanted to see you.” Aemond continued to speak; gracefully stepping closer to you. “You did?” You whispered breathlessly. Your courage finally returned as you locked eyes with him.

The Prince only nodded as he stepped even closer; his hand so slowly reaching to cup your face. You bit into your bottom, plump lip to keep yourself from flinching as you locked eyes with him. “I missed you.” Aemond whispered; your heart racing at his words as he slowly leaned closer.

You could hardly reply truthfully as he finally captured your soft lips. His touch was more gentle than you thought it would be. Your hand moved to his muscled chest; gently trying to push him away. He only deepened the kiss. His hand is not so gently moving to the back of your neck and keeps you close.

“Did you not miss me?” Aemond hummed, brushing your noses together as he kept you impossibly close. “Of course I did.” The words as ever easily falling from your lips even if you did not believe them. His famous hum was your only answer as his hot mouth trailed down your soft neck.

“Aemond..” You softly whispered; gently pushing on his chest once more even if shocks of desire raced through your body. “Can..I ..I need to talk to you.” You stuttered out as his touching continued. Excitement grew in Aemond as he leaned away; his stare on you as he gently took your hand.

“Of course..anything.” Aemond hummed; smiling softly at you as he leaned and lent his head on your own. Your heart was racing as it began to pound in your ears. Your nervousness returns easily. His hands continued to move down your body, brushing against the sides of your breasts that had you shivering.

“Would you like to spend your evenings …at the pleasure houses?” You babbled out the words before you could stop yourself. The quiet was now tense as the words seemed to register for him. His hold on you only tightened and you could hear your heart racing already now as the silence continued. “Aemond…” You whispered out.

His stare was dark now and only growing darker by the second. “I’m sure my wife did not say to enjoy some whores instead of herself.” Your heart continued to race now as you slowly tried to step back. His hold on you only tightened. “Is this what you truly want?” Aemond hummed; locking eyes with you.

You couldn’t reply. You were unsure what you truly desired but the silence was enough for your husband to take offence. His movements were quick now as he not so gently pushed you onto the bed. A soft gasp escaped you as you whimpered out his name. Your body shaking for emotions you couldn’t describe.

The dragon came to you now as his hands slowly moved up your thighs even as you tried to wiggle away. “You are my wife.” Aemond growled and you could only whimper as he hovered over you. “Are you not?” He hummed; his hand reached for your delicate dress and ripped it to pieces.

“Aemond, please..” You babbled out. Your hands reach for his shoulders as if you could ever push him away. His lips were on yours without warning as your cries were soon muted by him. There were no more words spoken as his hands continued to roam and grope you. Your heart was pounding in your ears; deafening you.

The fear you felt was only growing as you began to whimper his name. You tried to hide and move further up the bed and away from his touch. “You can’t escape me.” Aemond warned you. You whimpered still as you tried to reach him but there was no luck. Your legs were spreading and it was only then you noticed his cock had fallen free.

A soft gulp escaped you as you whined out his name. “Please… Aemond..” He ignored your begs. His lips were soon on your own as you gasped; his tongue greedily moving in just as his fat cock pushed through. “You are mine.” He snarled into your ear as he bottomed. You whimpered and gasped; harshly knowing how to react at the pain and pleasure moving through you.

His hands roughly moved up your body; up and down your sides before he began to palm at your breasts. Gods, he was going to breed you. Your thoughts of not belonging to him would vanish then, he was sure of it. “Aemond..” You whimpered out; tears falling as you reached for him.

He ignored you completely as he looked down and watched you take him so well. His hips snapped with speed as he pushed against your soft spot again and again. You were made for him, how could you not see this? “Please…” You whimpered whilst your soft, ample breasts bounced freely in front of him.

The Prince was far too gone to listen now as his hips continued to move. His cock pushes harder and deeper inside you.”Oh gods..” You whimpered; hating the pleasure easily moving over you now. He knew all the spots to press and he did just that. Bringing you so close to the edge so quickly.

It seemed Aemond was easily there too as he was soon flooding you with his cum whilst you shook around him. Your arms looped around his neck as you moved with him; your body completely betrayed you. Your eyes widened when the Prince did not stop. “No, Aemond..” You were not sure how much more you could take.

Your toes curled as the pleasure continued and you wrapped your legs around him. His lips soon found yours once more.

The next morning was hardly any better; the effect of the night before had you in slight discomfort with each passing moment of yours. Aemond’s hand was on your lower back as he kept you impossibly close throughout the passing days until the maester would announce you were with child.

TAGLIST

@lady-stark-winter-rose

#aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #request #dark!aemond targaryen x reader

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f10werfae · 2 years

Text

How Much Is Too Much?

Pairing:Husband!Henry Cavill x Doctor!Reader

Summary: Fans retell the best parts of the relationship

Warnings: none

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments And Re-Blogs are appreciated

masterlist✨

Henry Cavill Masterlist 💫

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@/loverbunny: Does anyone remember that one Henry Cavill interview where he just kept bringing up Y/n? It’s so cute how his eye twinkles whenever her name’s mentioned and he’s also so proud of her and her career. Saying quote on quote, “i’m proud to be her man”

@/jessicashaw: I had to take my little sister to an appointment to the local hospital and she was literally treated by Dr. Y/n L/n, apparently she was there to cover a random shift? Idk but she was so nice and helpful😭 After the check up she gave my sister SUPERMAN STICKERS?!

@/Ghostedfortoast: I was at the background shoot for one of Henry Cavill's movies and I heard him talking about how his wife was opening a free walk in clinic for the homeless, and I swear I saw that man's heart get a boner

@/thereallife: I saw Cavill at an award show, and I kid you not mid award show, he saw his wife was arriving outside the venue. This man walked back outside and accompanied her in through the red carpet, and since all the photographers had left. HE WAS KNEELING JUST TO GET HER ANGLES RIGHT WHEN TAKING HER PICS

@/beesnothoney: Nah because in Henry's new interview, actually lemme just quote this man, “My wife is so amazing, she was actually my medic on set, so I was around her all the time. It was brilliant, I loved it” AND THEN HIS CO STAR WAS COMPLAINING ABOUT HOW MUCH NOISE WOULD BE COMING FROM HENRY'S TRAILER KILLS ME.

@/leavemealone: I work in Pull&Bear and I saw Henry and Y/n walk in at around 7pm i’m guessing after her work because she was in scrubs. I think she was trying to buy the new winter jacket we had but the poor girl looked exhausted. Henry had to put it on her and zipped it all the way so it covered her head, AND HE UNZIPPED IT JUST ENOUGH TO KISS HER THEN THEY FOUGHT OVER WHO WOULD PAY UNTIL HE SNEAKILY PASSED ME HIS CARD

@/1990firefly: Henry Cavill came into the build a bear I work and got a dog stuffy and dressed it like a doctor. But here’s the best part. IN AN INTERVIEW Y/N REVEALED HE CALLS HER 'PUP' 😭😭. ➥@/pandalove: I HEARD HE CARRIES THAT BEAR WHEN HE TRAVELS ABROAD WITHOUT HERR🥹

@/jumpinglacks: My mum once worked a shift with Y/n L/n, and said her husband (Hen obvs) came during their break to bring her out for lunch. I hate being single.

@/tiredturtleegg: I saw the Cavill couple out in town yesterday, kid you not he was feeding her the spaghetti and anytime she’d reach for her fork he’d slap it away 🥲

@/denisethemenace: Anyone remember when Y/n L/n first revealed she was pregnant, and the reason she found out was because Cavill realised her tits had grown bigger. This man never fails to surprise me ➥ @/livingfreedead: DONT FORGET HE SAID HE WAS JUST DOING HIS REGULAR TOUCH UP OMG😭‼️

@/greekathenanice: Y/n just said in her 73 questions video that whenever their son can’t sleep, he reads her anatomy books and tries to teach Henry things about the body. This kid is like 4. How.

@/floralflower: Whenever you think about settling for less. Remember that when Y/n was pregnant Henry literally sewed her scrubs that would fit her then drove her to and from work☝️

@/letmeliveplease: Henry Cavill gushing over his wife’s maternity photos during a Buzzfeed interview, is everything. That man started tearing up because he loves her so much, NO MAN COULD EVER COMPARE

@/treatsweet: Henry revealing that Y/n only likes to bathe with him now is so cute, apparently it’s because that’s the only time the baby decides to kick and be active

@/HenryCavill: Y/n refuses to talk to me because I forgot to buy her cookie dough ice cream on the way home. This is my public apology. I’m sorry pup, please let me back into the bedroom, I want a hug. ➥@/DrY/nL/N-Cavill: Yeah okay. Your son (and I) Misses you. Love you♥️

#romance #henry cavill #henry cavill oneshot #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill rpf

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rhaellatyrell · 9 months

Text

Sleepy Confessions

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: drinking, language, sexual references, SO MUCH fluff, completely not re-read and checked as I’m absolutely mortal rn

Words: girl i cba to count rn but it’s not that long 🕺🏻

A/N: I’m drunk and sleepy writing this so that’s the inspo 😍

————————————————————————

The fuzzy feeling in her body only increased in warmth as she sipped on drink after drink until it had seemed five pitchers had passed. Her and Aegon were dizzy from laughter alone as they continued to lean on each other in amusement. As Helaena’s lady-in-waiting, it wasn’t exactly appropriate, per say, for her to be drinking with her lady’s husband, let alone the king. However, Aegon had taken a liking to her and refused to let her go, and, even more surprisingly, he hadn’t tried to sleep with her. Well, not explicitly; he certainly wouldn’t say no. The only thing that seemed to stop him was her ardent admiration of his brother, something she didn’t seem to shut up about as she nursed her Dornish wine- the bottles he reserved for himself, and it seemed her, too.

“He’s just so…” her slurred words attempted to find the adjective she was looking for, hands circling the air, “admirable.”

Aegon scoffed with a smile, “Admirable?”

Blushing, (Y/n) swatted his arm, “He is! He is the best swordsman in all the Seven Kingdoms, in my opinion, and the trials he faced as a child were unfathomable. He is very admirable, thank you very much.” She sat back in her seat in pride, a warm confidence blinding her reservations.

Usually, she was the perfect lady; soft-spoken, kind, polite. Yet, every time she drank with Aegon, she became rather lively and confident while keeping her air of elegance, of course. The King admired it. Not many ladies could handle the volume in which he drank, but it seemed she was challenging him as she was a drink or two ahead.

“You should tell him.” Aegon insisted, suddenly a little more serious, “He-” there was a pause, “Nevermind.”

Now alarmingly interested, (Y/n) shot forwards in her chair, almost falling out of it, “What?”

Aegon waited a beat before speaking, he could never keep much of a secret against her, “He may or may not have expressed an interest in you.”

A gasp left her mouth, had she been sober, she would have been more collected. Alas, she was not.

“What did he say? I want details!” Her giggles and hopeful gaze made Aegon grin, he loved to see her happy.

“He named you the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros.” Aegon furrowed his brows and leant forwards, face inches away from (Y/n)’s in a drunken stupor, “Well, I don’t think he meant to, but he did. It’s confusing.”

(Y/n) looked at him, confused, but urged him to continue and explain.

“Jason Lannister expressed an… interest in what it would be like to wed you. Rather, the evening activities of such an event-”

“EW JASON LANNISTER WANTS TO BED ME?” She gagged almost comically and Aegon laughed at the disgusted look on her face, making him double over and gently take her forearm as he attempted to regain her attention.

“Listen, doll, okay there’s more to it.” Her attention was, once again, on the King, “Aemond got so jealous, it was so funny, he claimed that you would never do such a thing-”

“I wouldn’t!”

“And laughed, saying that ‘the most beautiful woman in Westeros would never lay with Jason’ before he even realised it.”

(Y/n) raised her hands, expression amplified by the alcohol, “He spoke truth, I would never!” However, Aegon did not miss the blush that subtly spread across her dainty face.

The confidence of the alcohol was evident as she joked, (but not really), “I would lay with him though, Gods know I would.”

“Lay with who?”

Both of their heads shot towards the large door of the hall that had been empty, save themselves of course. Aemond stood there with an eyebrow raised and his hands behind his back. He had come to fetch Aegon, but was not surprised that the Lady (Y/n) was with him, also.

“Brother!” Aegon beamed, “What a nice surprise, our lovely (Y/n) was just-”

“Nothing! I was just nothing!” She cut him off, although it just sounded like a slur of noises as she pushed a finger against his lips. The girl then turned to the younger brother, “Join us!”

Aemond looked hesitant, but the pout of her lips and pleading of her eyes drew him in. He slowly made his way to the small table they were seated at, watching as (Y/n) quickly downed the rest of her drink. Upon reaching the table, he noticed a lack of chairs, and it seemed the two other did, too.

“Here,” giggled a now very drunk (Y/n), “take my seat.”

He did so but remained confused, “But where will you si-”

Before he could finish, she had perched herself on his lap, hands wrapped around his neck as she and Aegon giggled. He blushed but didn’t protest, unconsciously wrapping his arms around her waist as she almost slipped off in her inebriated state.

“Hmm,” she hummed in content as she leant against his shoulder, the drunkenness fading into fatigue, “you’re so comfy, Aemy.”

Aegon raised his eyebrows and let out a short laugh, “Oh, so you’re ‘Aemy’ now? Why don’t I get a nickname, pretty girl?” His tone was slightly more flirtatious as he grew more and more intoxicated, not missed by Aemond who held onto the girl tighter at his brother’s words.

“I think you’ve both had enough-” he began, but was interrupted.

“Please drink with us! I’m not a bad drunk, I’ll be a good girl, I promise! I’m a fun drunk, at least that’s what Aeg said.”

Aemond had to ignore the way her utterance of ‘good girl’ had made him almost whimper for the sake of making sure his brother and… he didn’t even know what to call her at this point (sister’s lady-in-waiting, crush he’d had since he was only nine?) got to bed safely and somewhat comfortably.

“Finally, a nickname!” Aegon celebrated with another sip of wine.

Seeing him do such urged (Y/n) to take another sip of her own, to which Aemond placed his hand over its rim as if to imply she shouldn’t.

“Please, Aemy,” she pouted and elongated her ‘please’, “you can have some too, I just feel so good when I’m drunk.” She giggled once again and instead tiled the chalice to the young prince’s lips, which he accepted without even realising it.

Aegon laughed softly, “Already whipped.”

Shooting him a glare, Aemond tried to ignore the touch of her fingertips on his jaw as he took a sip from the cup. A hum left her lips at the sight and he swore he would have fell to his knees right there and then had his brother not been sat less than a foot away.

“Good, right?” She said in an almost-whisper, to which he nodded silently.

“Should I leave?”

“Aegon.” Reprimanded Aemond, watching with a touch of delight as (Y/n) blushed at Aegon’s suggestion.

The elder brother refilled (Y/n)’s now empty cup, which earned a disapproving look from Aemond, and giggled as he watched her immediately bring it up to her lips. Her legs swung slightly, leaving her to almost tip off of Aemond’s lap - the prince quickly wrapped a hand around her waist as he sighed in relief, his brother and (Y/n) laughing. A hiccup left the girl’s lips and she covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ow,” she whined, “hiccups hurt.” Her words were now almost unintelligible and a hazy look filled her eyes.

In a poor effort to fight her sleepiness, (Y/n) tried to spark up another conversation, “Aeg, tell me ‘nother story.”

But before he could even begin, her head had fallen against Aemond’s shoulder and she slumped into his hold subconsciously, the sleep washing over her. Aegon noticed the small twitch of a smile that graced his brother’s face that dropped as soon as he saw Aegon smirk.

“(Y/n/n).” Cooed Aegon, gently pushing the girl’s shoulder; she only whined once more and tucked her head into the crook of Aemond’s neck, making him blush furiously, “(Y/n/n), come on, you should go sleep, you sleepy sleep girl.” Aegon continued as he giggled again through his drunkness, pushing her a little harder to which she let out a weak, pained whine - Aemond pushed his hand away as she did so.

Standing up, (more like stumbling), Aegon held out his arms to the girl and she looked up at him hazily, “Come on, I’ll ‘scort you to your chambers, m’lady.” He tripped slightly over his own feet and almost fell face first onto the floor but recovered and held his arms back out.

Giggling at his state, (Y/n) nodded dramatically and slowly, “M’kay.” She began to lift herself from the young prince’s lap while rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, hair falling over her face.

Instinctively, Aemond reached out and re-took her waist in his hands, pulling her back down gently. Aegon quirked a brow and put his hands on his hips. (Y/n) also looked at him somewhat confused, but certainly not complaining to be back in his warm embrace.

The younger brother felt caught, trying to conjure up some excuse, “You are far too drunk, brother; I can escort the lady to her chambers.” He coughed in an attempt to cover up his real reasoning - he was simply enjoying her company.

This, however, did not escape Aegon, who nodded slowly and smirked, “M’kay, have fun.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Aemond rolled his eyes in disgust.

“I, unlike you, would never defile a woman in such a state.” He mumbled under his breath, Aegon huffing in response.

Gently, Aemond wrapped (Y/n)’s arm around his waist and took her own in his, his spare hand went to grasp hers furthest from him in order to keep her steady.

A nearby knight stepped forwards and offered to escort the lady instead, but Aegon halted him with a hand out, “No, no, I wanna see how this goes.”

————————————————————————

The prince and Helaena’s lady-in-waiting unceremoniously made their way through the castle’s cold corridors as Aemond listened to her senseless mumbles with eager confusion.

“An’ she’s just so lovely! ‘Tis ‘shame she had to marry Aeg. He doesn’t ‘preciate her bugs. I love her bugs. ‘Though I d’spise holding them, makes me feel creepy ‘n crawly!” She shuddered and scrunched up her nose.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Like this?” Aemond grinned and teasingly tickled the side in his hold as they walked, making her squeal in delight and fold her knees.

Aemond laughed. A rare, rare sound.

(Y/n) stopped almost immediately, eyes wide and hazy, “You’re so lovely when you laugh. Please do it more.”

He was taken aback by her bluntness but gave a curt nod all the same, “For you, my lady, whenever you wish.”

They eventually reached the outside of her chambers and she fiddled with the door, “All th’time, please.” It eventually opened and she stepped in, “Actually!” She spun around and almost bumped right into him, “Only with me. I’m ‘gonna be selfish ‘n require only I can hear such a lovely sound.” She then gently took him by the arm and pulled him inside, closing the door.

There it was again, the lovely sound that had now quickly become her favourite, as she began to hum and lazily waltz around her room. Suddenly, she pulled at the ribbons of her dress and began to shimmy out of it.

Alarmed, Aemond darted to face the opposite way and tried to fight the redness in his cheeks, “My apologies, I should leave, I-”

“No,” she called out softly, so soft that he almost missed it, “please stay. I, uh-” she hurried to think of an excuse, “I require help with my laces.”

“It is improper, my lady, it-”

“Your lady, hm?” She smiled, “If I am your lady, then surely it is not improper for you to help me.” Her words were now a little more well-pronounced despite her tiredness as the alcohol-induced confidence kicked in once more.

Aemond slowly turned around and tried not to seem to nervous as he slowly approached her, the dying fire slowly flickering beside them.

“They’re a little ‘fusing,” there was the return of the slurring as she felt Aemond’s warm touch on her once more, “awfully tight and cross-crossy.” She took one of the pink layers of silk into her hand and hummed at its comfort, “But soft ‘n pretty.”

Now feeling the fabric for himself as his hands reached the end of the laces at the very bottom of her back, Aemond hummed and murmured in agreement, “Soft ‘n pretty.” His own, slight drunkness beginning to develop even after just half a glass; he concluded that her company and affections, alone, had dizzied him.

Turning away once more, Aemond gestured towards the satin and lace night slip on her bed, “You should change while I relight the fire.” She nodded tiredly and began to do so, albeit a little clumsily.

Once she had changed and the fire came to life, filling the roomy chambers with a warm glow, Aemond stood somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the floral rug atop the floor. His hands were abnormally straight by his sides as he wasn’t quite sure what to do. He had never even seen another lady’s chambers, aside from his mother’s and sister’s, and already felt as though he was intruding. He knew it was proper to leave, yet something in him urged him to wait.

Only when he heard a softly hushed ‘Aem’ did he make his way towards her plush, blush pink bed, “Yes, my lady?”

He could’ve swore he heard her say, ‘‘my lady’, I like that’ but wasn’t entirely sure as he struggled over the sound of his own heartbeat in his head.

“Stay.”

Aemond heard that clearly enough as said heartbeat stopped altogether.

At his immobility, the lady wrapped her hand in his and enticed him to sit beside her, “Please?”

Nothing in all of the Seven Kingdoms, of all of Essos, the unknown world, even the Gods, could have made him refuse her; with such a honeyed and drowsy charm to her plea, how could he?

Wordlessly, he removed his outer layers of clothing, leaving him in his small clothes, and cautiously lay beside her. He couldn’t help but hum in content at the feeling of her fluffed pillows and sheets, the sweet scent of her bath oils enveloping him. He had never felt more comfortable than in this moment, in this bed, laying with her.

“I would lay with him though, Gods know I would.”

Her previous words flashed back to the forefront of his mind and he felt a tear in his contentedness. Who was ‘him’? He dreaded the thought and immediately pulled she sheets higher in shame of his own hopefulness and naivety.

As if she could read his mind, (Y/n) turned to face him, her hair splayed over the pillows and cheeks still flushed from the wine, “It was you,” she admitted bashfully, causing Aemond to look at her in confusion at her ambiguity, “that I was talking about earlier.”

In realisation, Aemond’s eyes widened, “Me?”

Still embarrassed, but no less drunk, (Y/n) nodded and hid her face in her sheets while avoiding his gaze, “Sorry.”

“No,” His hand involuntary took her own as he lightly laughed, “do not apologise - it is a… well, a compliment as far as I’m concerned. I don’t think many ladies would share your opinion.”

She furrowed her brows, “What do you mean?”

A wave of insecurity seemed to wash over the prince, he despised voicing his ‘flaws’ and reservations about them. Gesturing to his eye, or lack thereof, he said nothing. The girl frowned and gently rested the tips of her fingers against the leather, tracing the seams and scuffs from his wearing of it. At first he flinched, but welcomed it as he assured himself that she would not laugh, would not tease, not like they had.

“I think it makes you all the more handsome.”

“Truly?”

“On my life.” She then, still dazed, but now for reasons other than the alcohol, took his cheek in her palm and followed the scar from his forehead to his cheekbone, “You were so brave, so young,” he had seen pity from people before in regards to his injury, but hers was so sincere that he, himself, almost began to tear up, “I can’t fathom how awful it must have been.”

Overwhelmed by her affections and sincerity, Aemond smiled sadly as he leant into her touch, “It is alright, my lady. Thank you for your kindness.”

She hummed once more and her eyes began to flutter closed, yet her touch never relented, instead she drew him closer. He followed. Eventually, and almost naturally, they lay with her head resting on his chest, one arm of his around her waist and the other cradling her dizzying head as he knew it would be sure to ache on the morrow.

“G’night, Aem.” She managed to breathe out through her slumbered state.

With a surge of confidence at her words and the little alcohol he’d had, Aemond placed a kiss on the crown of her head to which she nuzzled in closer, “Good night, beautiful girl.”

He could feel her smile against him, “Aegon was telling the truth.” She muttered to herself.

“What?”

“Nothing!”

#fanfic #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader fluff #hotd #hotd fanfic #x reader #asoiaf

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theship-thewalrus · 2 years

Note

One more, one more ending for the Aegon fic.

Rhaenyra and reader get into an argument, and the stress of it all causes the reader to miscarry. Nobody else can get close to her, so Aegon has to help her deliver a stillborn.

Hi anon! I love everyone's endings ideas! You all seem to hate happy endings lmao >:) Don't worry I hate them too. This takes a couple days after the dinner. Hope you all enjoy!

aegon ii targaryen x targaryen! female! reader

pretty much the ask

word count: 1029 words reading time: about 6 minutes warnings: miscarriage, blood

part 1 || part 2 || ending 1 || ending 2 || ending 4 || headcanon 1 || headcanon 2

For a moment you thought this conversation with your mother would allow the pair of you to reconnect. To finally be some sort of family again but as yout voice raised to match your mother's, you realised that perhaps it was all behind you now. The times you ran to her when you were younger when you were scared or upset, how she would bundle you up in her loving embrace. Was it all nothing to her? Did she simply do it out of obligation? To show she could be a good mother?

"You betray you were family! And for what? Love? Aegon does not love you! Stop being so foolish!" Rhaenyra's voice bounced off the wall, and the rage on her face was unmistakable. Her once pale face flooded with blood. Tears well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push them back. Yet they fall down your cheeks, wetting your face and the front of your dress.

"Do not speak about him in such a way! He is kind! He is trying his best and you simply refuse to see that!" Despite wanting to reconnect with your mother, to have her take you into her loving embrace. You could not allow such an insult about your husband, the man you loved, to go unquestioned. Pushing makes you sad you try to draw on the rage you feel, matching your mother's energy. The older woman laughs in your face, thinking you are joking. There was no way you would choose Aegon over her. She was your mother.

"I should've never left you here! What have they done to my sweet girl? He feels you with his child and now you are adrift. Come home with me, return to your real family." Her voice lowers, trying to coax you to her side. To make you believe you were misled, that she can set you right and heal you. But you were not misled or broken, something that needed help. As Rhaenyra moved forward you took a harsh step back as though she burned you. The look on her face dropped, her arms resting at her side once more. Her face hardened "Fine, I see where your loyalty lies. You turn your back on your family for what?" Her words were filled with venom, as her eyes held nothing but disdain for you. Striding past you you can feel the anger and disgust roll off her in waves. It broke your heart, cutting you deeper than any sword.

The hallway felt ice cold without your mother's fire to warm it. Your tears flowed from your eyes with no restraint anymore, making your way to your chambers for some privacy. Upon pushing open the door of your chambers you saw the back of your husband. The person your mother was just shamelessly insulting right to your face, thinking that you would agree with her. He did not seem to notice you as he lounged on the plush couch, indulging himself in some food left by the maids. It made a watery smile appear on your face to see him, the stress from the argument with your mother leaving you for a moment.

"Darling?" His voice was soft as he looked over at you from his position on the couch. There was a small smile on his face until he took notice of your state, the tear streaks on your cheeks, your red-rimmed eyes, and the drops of blood splashing the ground under you. Jumping up from the couch the man had not moved so fast before, grabbing you firmly yet softly by the biceps. The liquid that you felt between your legs only truly registered to you when Aegon mentioned it. your mind to catch up in the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts about your mother.

The blood that began to flow from you only increased as the second passed. To much blood for it to be normal, something was incredibly wrong. "Aegon?" Your voice was full of fear as your knees buckled under you, the only thing keeping you from collapsing into the pool of blood was the hands Aegon had on you. The man did not know what to do, who to get, or how to help you. All he could do is watch. moving you to the bed he tried to calm your racing heart.

"No, no, no, Aegon, Aegon please." Your voice chanted as your head rested against the pilled your hands clawing at him. You did not want to be alone, to be left in this room. A fresh set of tears stream down your face as your eyes wander to the blood that now stained the white sheets. "I-I need to get the maester. You need help." His voice was weak, despite needing to be strong for you he couldn't. He was just as scared as you, worried for your health and the babies.

"No! No, please Aegon! Aegon stay pleas-" A moan of pain interrupts you as your grip on him tightens. You could feel your heart breaking, knowing what this meant. Your child was not well, something was wrong and you feared your child has not made it. Your heart breaks for the life you are never able to know. The child you will have hold in your arms, to hear them giggle. The perfect mixture of Aegon and yourself will never be greeted in the world. You will not hear their cr as they leave your body.

Aegon stayed with you, he could not leave you like this. Not as he saw the utter terror in his eyes, the fear in your grips. "I'll stay, I'll stay with you, my love." Pushing back the hair that stuck to your forehead he kissed you softly. Wanting to provide a little bit of comfort to you in any form he could. Another wave of pain made you twist in the bed, your body not being able to stand such utter pain.

The baby was coming, but instead of the child crying and announcing its arrival to the world. You would be wailing and mourning the life that was never lived.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegorn ii x reader #aegon targaryen imagines #aegon imagines #aegon x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagines #hotd x reader #hotd imagines

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wangxianficfinder · 4 months

Text

Fic Finder

Jan 19th

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1. Hello, I have lost a fic! It was an arranged-marriage au where WWX marries into the Lan sect. During the wedding all the Lans refuse to look towards WWX which hurts him deeply. Later on LWJ explains it is Lan tradition for no one to look upon the bride until the husband has removed her veil. This was just one of many cultural differences between the Lan and Jiang that the fic explored. Overall I think the fic was kind of somber and angsty? Probably had a happy ending though. Any ideas?

FOUND? Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

FOUND? In Love and War by Cataclysmic_Calamity (E, 68k, wangxian, A/B/O, Canon Divergence, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Arranged Marriage, Kind of a slow burn, enemies to lovers ish, rampant sexual tension, WWX is a Menace to society and LWJ is doing his best, Miscommunication, past emotional abuse, Dubious Consent, Consensual Non-Consent, Semi-Public Sex, Anal Fingering, Dom/sub, Anal Sex)

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2. Hello, I need help finding a fic. I'm pretty sure I found this fic through your blog.

It's from Lan Wangji's perspective and takes place during the early sunshot campaign before Wei Wuxian's return. Wen outposts are attacked by some unknown entity and Lan Wangji goes to investigate. The culprit is a human shaped being covered in resentful energy. After a few confrontations Lan Wangji discovers that the being is an unconscious Wei Wuxian and finds a way to free him from the resentful energy. @bluekittenfire

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3. (First part added to an itmf) I cannot remember what it is called but there was one fic where WWX loses his foot/leg and the Wen build him a wooden prosthetic that I really enjoyed and am looking for more fics like this. Where characters are dealt a difficult hand but they work through it and yeah, any recs would be much appreciated thank you!

FOUND? we’re starting at the end by Miss_Enthusiasimal (M, 92k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Golden Core Reveal, Burial Mounds, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Starvation, emaciation, Cannibalism, Self-Harm, Amputation, Suicidal Thoughts, Sunshot Campaign, let JZX and WWX be friends club)

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4. Hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but maybe you can help me? I’m looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian is fighting at what I remember to be Qiongqi Path. I think Jiang Cheng makes a smart remark (something like “Are you just gonna play your flute or you going to help us?!”) and Wei Wuxian stops playing his dizi long enough to give JC the finger… only for them to realise what it means that he’s stopped playing and a flute can still be heard. Not long after LWJ pulls Su She out of the foliage with the other flute.

Vaguely I remember it being a fix it fic where less people die than in canon.

If you can help with this I would appreciate it since it’s haunted me for days now! And even if not I hope you have a pleasant day. ^^ @jestingknights

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5. hi!! i’m been looking for a fic for days. i read it forever ago but it’s during the cloud recess study arc and in it lan xichen realizes how awful the jiangs are treating wwx and tries to subtly convince him to leave tywng and stay in gusu bc he knows how much lwj likes him and he sees how talented wwx is and knows he would be a good asset for any sect to have. a specific scene i remember is that lxc would pretend to accidentally bump into wwx to talk to him. and they would go on walks and lwj saw it and got jealous. i think lxc was lowkey manipulative but in a way where he was doing it to make wwx care enough about himself to leave the jiangs. it was not jiang clan friendly at all. i kno this is so vague sorry about that. but it’s driving me crazy how i can’t find it when i know ive read it more then once. thanks for any help u can give

FOUND? If 5 isn't 🔒💖 Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting), it's very similar so here's hoping!

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6. Hello! I’m looking for a modern AU where WWX lives in and runs a theater, I believe LWJ is hosting his orchestra there for practice and for an event??? And it’s important that it’s successful to keep the theater open. I believe at some point, someone throws a rock or a brick through the front doors, and I believe the jiangs show up in the end and WWX confronts that. Im having such a hard time finding it or remembering more about it, and I’ve been looking for it for so long 🥲 @takemitchyleaps

FOUND? Talisman by Witch_Nova221 (M, 192k, WangXian, Modern AU, Eventual Romance, Theatre, Rock Band, Childhood Friends, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Spousal Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Stalking, Minor Character Death, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining)

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7. Hi! I hope doing this right, can tou help me find a fic ? I remember that the sects start making alliances because they notice how the Wens are acting. The Jiangs and the Lans are going to ally through marriage, the choice is up to LXC, but because he is jealous of LZ, thinking he never had it difficult, when WY is offered to the Lans, LXC decides to marry him to make LZ suffer, knowing LZ and WY like each other. LXC is the one whose core is melted and LSZ is LXC and WY's biological son. @old-rose-peonies

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8. There's a fic I vaguely remember reading, and I don't know what it's called. There's a scene where Lan Zhan is trying to help Wei Ying eat again (residual starvation stuff), and there's an NSFW scene with honey where Lan Zhan is trying to help Wei Ying associate eating with Good Things. That's the extent of my memory. If you could please help me find it, I'd greatly appreciate it! Thank you! @amynchan

Oh oh! I know exactly which fic this is because it was written based on a post of mine! It's actually WWX helping LWJ and was written by the wonderful InTheGreySpaces (thank you again for writing this beautiful fic~) 😊 Though I could be wrong so please let me know if this isn't it 😅 - Mod C

FOUND! 🧡 Sustenance of the Soul OR Five Times Lan Wangji Refused to Eat and One Time Wei Wuxian Convinced Him To by InTheGreySpaces (E, 9k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Pining, Eating Disorders, LWJ Has an Eating Disorder, and WWX is going to help him get past it, Inedia, Inedia used in the wrong way, LWJ's 33 Lashes Punishment, referenced as the cause of his eating problems, Submissive LWJ, Sort of?)

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9. Hello! I'm looking for a specific fic that I'm afraid might've been deleted. It's a modern au set in the 90s in California (possibly). The Spotify playlist "LWJ DJs your life 1999" goes with it. What I remember is that LWJ is both a goth club DJ and a cello player, WWX drives a terrible car, and the gang is looking to buy the perfect huge house to collectively live in. It might've been part of a series, there's a Halloween party bit where LWJ dresses up at a classic style gothic vampire and curates an extensive party playlist. Thanks for the help! @aceaviatrix

FOUND? The Quiet Room by trickybonmot (M, 39k, WangXian, Modern AU, 1990s, Goth LWJ, Cellist LWJ, College Student WWX, House Hunting, Dating, Clubbing, San Francisco, Implied/Referenced Past Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Academic Disaster Aftermath, Getting Together, Repressed Teen Crushes to Strangers to Lovers, Homelessness, in the form of couch surfing, background NieLan)

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10. For the next fic finder: I'm looking for a longer fic where the wens find shelter at the nie sect. It was part of a way bigger plot and some wangxian shenanigans, but wen qing and nie mingjue end up sleeping together, mainly because wen qing is cold and is like "might as well". I do remember that nie mingjue was trans, also. Anyone have any idea what fic that was?

FOUND? 💖 Uninvited by WithBroomBefore (M, 13k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, hurt/comfort, sect leader jyl, sick fic, happy ending) specifically chapter 3

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11. Hi! I need help in looking for a fic where Nie Huaisang was the one who sacrificed his body and soul to summon Wei Wuxian back to life. Thank you @etutb

FOUND? Crowded by nirejseki (G, 1k, NHS & WWX, WangXian, WangXianSang, Canon Divergence, Different Body Offering Ritual, Atypical Relationship Dynamics, sentient sabers) this is a nhs sacrifice summon (gone sideways) fic

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12. Hello. I am looking for a fic where there was a finger trap? You know, the “thing that traps the victim's fingers (often the index fingers) in both ends of a small cylinder”? Anyway i cant remember if it was a tweetfic or a fic on ao3 but wangxian had their fingers in this 🥲🙏

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13. Hi, I don't normally lose fics but I lost this one: Post-Canon, Jiang Cheng basically goes round all the clans and tells them what was wrong with their defences during Sunshot and what they could do better. He also has some unkind words to say about Lotus Pier's organisation. It sounds like he's making enemies but he's really not. Any ideas, please? @solo----

FOUND? 🔒 The Cold Wind of Harsh Truth (or How We Nearly Lost the Sunshot Campaign): A Treatise by Icarus (T, 13k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Humor, Angst, JC digs and keeps digging, Zidian lore, Fun with talismans, JC-centric, Competence Kink, Strategy & Tactics, Cultivation Sect Politics, Arranged Marriage, Trauma, Logic, POV JC)

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14. Hi, I am looking for a fic set post-canon (I think). I remember Wei Wuxian maybe living in the jingshi, possibly teaching classes, but definitely going into Caiyi with Lan Wangji and during a festival Wangji wins a game and the prize is this ugly turtle statue that Wei Wuxian adores. They go on to prank Lan Qiren with the turtle statue. I loved this scene but I can’t remember what fic it came from, please help!

FOUND! I think 14for the fic finder is from the actual book. It sounds like the last extra chapter. / Not saying there isn't a fic involving it, but #14 sounds a lot like the Yunmeng extra in book five, as well. Ring toss, ugly turtle statue, and Wei Wuxian considering pranking Lan Qiren included. The only difference is the location. Your searcher may have mistaken it for fic, especially if they read translations online. / #14 is one of the extra chapters from the actual novel (Extra 7 in the official English translation)

I found a few similar fics with a turtle statue if you want to check them out ^^ - Mod C

The Turtle in the Lanshi by Brierilee (G, 1k, WangXian, Post Canon, POV LJY)

Jin Ling and the No Good Very Bad Terrible Year of Cloud Recesses Bullshit by cringewerewolf (T, 2k, WangXian, Juniors)

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15. hi!! looking for this funny fic based on a silly story. Lwj rejects wwx on a dating app accidently right in front of him, i think they're on an airport? they end up talking obvs and it's cute and funny @ilyweiwuxian

FOUND? Ticket to Ride by mistresscurvy (E, 18k, wangxian, Modern, Online Dating, Road Trips, Service Top, Phone Sex, Dick Pics, Wedding Banquet)

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16. Hey was hoping you guys may be able to help, I've been look for a fic I read awhile back idk if it got deleted or something but. It is a modern time wangxian fic with tattoo artist wei ying, his parents are alive too. But he ends up renting a boyfriend/ Lan wangji off a boyfriend renting site. They have misunderstandings but get through it, he even gives lan Zhan a lotus tattoo like his own and they get together officially in the end. @yilingpatriarchsimp

FOUND! Rent a Gege by wayward_wing (E, 12k, WangXian, Fluff and Angst, Smut, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, Getting Together, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Mention of wangxian with others, WWX’s parents are alive, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Riding, Skinny Dipping, eating ass, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex)

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17. I have lost a fic where Wei Wuxian is a catfish for sale and he helps jilted lovers get back at their exes. Su She hires him to target Lan Wangji but Wei Wuxian falls for him instead. Please help me find this fic!

FOUND! I'm pretty sure this one is we'll get him falling for a stranger (or a catfish) by sweetlolixo (T, 38k, wangxian, modern, College AU, Catfish AU, Eventual Happy Ending, Crossdressing WWX, Rich heir LWJ gets catfished by pretty Weiying online that's it that's the fic, LWJ learns how to text with kaomojis, Gossipy aunties NHS and WWX: canon, sometimes LWJ gives you secondhand embarrassment, this fic is on crack, Pining LWJ, Fluff, Humor, lwj is a grade A+ SIMP, Identity Porn)

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18. lan xichen is driving after drinking at night and hits Jiang yanli and she dies. Plot twist ended up she committed suicide, but they didn’t know that before. The lans and jiangs had a fight and somehow lan wangji ended up getting married to Wei wuxian. Wwx is significantly older then lan zhan in this fic.

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19. Hello! I was wondering if I could get help looking for a fic. It’s a doctor AU where LZ and WY are both surgeons. It starts with WY being late to a presentation and showing up right in the middle of LZ’s presentation time. Then WY eventually ends up working on a research project or something like that with LZ? Wen Ning gets hurt at some point in it too and WY and LZ save him against LQR’s orders. I’ve been looking for this for forever and can’t seem to find it. Thank you so much!

FOUND? Anginal Equivalents by fakeplasticlily (E, 23k, wangxian, Modern, Medical Residents AU, Childhood Friends, Mutual Pining, Oblivious WWX, WangXian.mp3, Sexual Content, Podfic Available)

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20. Hi Peeps! Thank you so much for your dedication to this page, I'm a big fan! I'm looking for a specific fic: there's a cultural show being put on by the whole gang and Wei Ying is specifically doing a dance for it but he needs to have body paint and LZ graciously volunteers for it. He ends up writing characters out of an ancient poem that Huaisang tells him is LZ basically marking him for his own. It's not idiots in love, though that one was great as well. Thank you in advance! @nebuluscharlie

FOUND? Out of the Bin and Into Your Heart by Alaceron (T, 27k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fake/Pretend relationship, Oblivious WWX)

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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moni-logues · 1 year

Text

The Fifth Date

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: friends/idiots-to-lovers

Summary: Yoongi finally realises his feelings for you... But you're on a fifth date with someone else.

Word count:

Content: literally no warnings necessary for this one except Yoongi being a moron

A/N: Happy birthday to my future husband, Min Yoongi! As I said in a post a couple of days ago, this one has had a real edit; it's fundamentally the same, but just (I hope) better.

‘A date. A date. It’s just a date. Why do I care so much? I don’t care. I don’t. It’s fine. She can do what she wants. Obviously. I'm not her keeper. She's a grown woman—an adult. I don't control her. I'm not trying to. It's fine. It's just a date…

'Well, it’s a fifth date. Five is quite a lot- it’s not; it’s not really a lot but it’s different from a first date. A fifth date definitely mean-‘

“YOONGI!”

Yoongi jumps, startled back to the present. He’s supposed to be helping Jungkook finish his song, but he can’t focus.

“Ah, sorry, sorry, ok,” he replies and turns his attention to the screen, adjusting levels and playing the track again.

Music is where he always goes to relax, switch off, zone out, feel better. Music is where Yoongi is in control; he knows what he’s doing; he can feel the music; he can hear it before it even exists and he knows how to create it. He’s comfortable with music; the studio is his home, his retreat. It’s his happy place. This is what he does. This is who he is. He comes to the studio and the world outside its four walls disappears, doesn’t matter. Time passes unacknowledged, one hour, ten, who knows? Who cares? Music production is a flow state that Yoongi slips into whenever he can. Music is simple to him, pure.

But you’re on a fifth date.

Jungkook sighs, seeing Yoongi’s stare go blank once more.

“Yoongi, are you ok? You really can’t focus today.”

“I’m sorry, JK, I will do better. It’s fine. I can focus. Let's do it.”

“Are you sure?”

Yoongi nods.

“Because I know someone is on a date right now-“

“So what? What does that have to do with anything?” Yoongi asks, suddenly defensive.

Jungkook almost pulls a muscle refraining from rolling his eyes. Everyone knows Yoongi has feelings for you; everyone knows you have feelings for him. You’re honest about it, at least. Yoongi refuses to be. They’re not even sure if he’s being honest with himself, despite how obvious it is to everyone else. The two of you together is a no-brainer.

“And they’ve got no brains!” is Jin’s constant rejoinder.

It’s a very good point.

They know he’s just trying to protect himself. He’s been hurt before. But haven’t we all? And you can’t stop yourself being hurt from hiding away. Loneliness is hurt, too; pining is hurt, too. But Yoongi will not be told.

You look at your date across the table and smile. You’re having a nice time. The food is good. The company is enjoyable. You’re trying hard to focus on him: what’s likable about him, what makes him a good match for you—the very fact that he asked you out was a start; you have interests in common; he’s not unattractive; but he’s not Yoongi. Your brain knows that you have to let go of the Yoongi thing, but your heart hasn’t got the message yet.

Practice makes perfect, you remind yourself. You laugh at your date’s joke and take a sip of your drink. If he asks for a sixth date? Yeah, you’ll go. If he asks you back to his tonight? Yeah, you’ll go. Because Yoongi’s not asking. And you’ve given up waiting.

Not waiting as such. You aren’t waiting—you never were waiting. Because you know it won’t happen, have always known. He just doesn’t see you like that. You’re friends. Just friends. You did once think, maybe, that he might be showing interest in you, the way he softened and warmed up to you, the way he became almost doting, indulgent, always, always there when you needed. Then you realised that that was just him, really him, truly him, not the cool, shy exterior he had first presented to you. That made it all the harder, truth be told. You had liked him anyway: his shy little laugh, shoulders shaking, eyes closed; his knowledge on any and every random topic you could imagine; his thick dark hair and feline eyes; his obnoxious drinking habits that you nevertheless found endearing. He slipped into your heart and set up camp. It’s just what he is like. He dotes on his loved ones: you and all the others. You realised he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, but familial ones.

It isn’t exactly what you want, being his friend, being family to him, but you’ll take it. Rather that than nothing. Rather that than daring to tread where you might not be wanted—weren’t wanted—and being rebuffed, rejected. So, you date. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right? Worth a shot! It isn’t exactly working but a girl’s gotta eat.

The studio session does not go well. It ends prematurely. Jungkook has to pretend to have had enough, to be too tired, to need to rest, anything to put an end to the torturously slow progress he and Yoongi are making. Yoongi is distracted and needs to let loose, he says. He sends a message to the group chat asking them to have drinks so they meet at the dorms and get some bottles out. Yoongi relaxes and forgets about you for a little while, distracted but this time it’s from you, not by you. He forgets, briefly, that you’re on a fifth date with someone else, smiling, laughing, drinking, not with him. He has fun. He gets a little bit tipsy, drinks more than he planned.

Then Hoseok turns in for the night and Yoongi checks the time. It’s late. He’d have expected you to have sent him a message by now, telling him how the date went. You always message. Always. Even when it goes well. Even when it goes badly. But it’s late and he hasn’t heard from you. A thought washes over him like cold water poured down his back: maybe you’re still on the date. It’s not like it’s not allowed; it’s not like you haven’t slept with other people in the time you’ve known each other. He knows you have. He’s fine with that. Of course, he’s fine with it; you’re just friends. But you are still on a fifth date and his stomach flips over unhappily.

He stares hard at his phone, willing it to do something, although he’s not entirely sure what.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that a watched phone never boils?” Namjoon asks him.

Yoongi slowly puts down his phone and pushes it to one side.

“Waiting for a message from anyone in particular?”

“No,” he answers simply.

They know he’s lying.

“Have you met the guy she’s on a date with? He works at the company, right?” Jimin asks, his eyes all innocent and shining.

Yoongi nods.

“Yeah, he does. I haven’t met him.”

He doesn’t really ever want to. He’s not interested in who you’re dating; it doesn’t matter as long as you’re happy. If you say he’s good enough, he’s good enough; Yoongi doesn’t need to vet him, interrogate him. He trusts your judgement. He doesn’t have to meet him. Ever. Well, he’ll probably have to at some point, but he doesn’t want to. Why would he? He’s just some guy.

The other members look at each other. They know this is your fifth date and there is a real possibility of more dates; they feel they have to do something to make Yoongi wake up and realise what he’s missing. They just aren’t sure how. They’ve tried everything they can think of. Yoongi is just too hard-headed. They’ve tried with you, too, egging you on, promising success, trying bribes at one point. You are hard-headed, too.

They talk amongst themselves about this guy – whom none of them know, but some have seen around the building; they talk about you and how they might see less of you now if you’re going to have a boyfriend. They wonder aloud if your boyfriend will have a problem with you hanging out with them, seven men, by yourself. A cold fist grips Yoongi’s heart at this – not seeing you? He hadn’t considered that but it’s true; the more time you spend with this guy, the less you can spend with him. He hadn’t realised before that this could actually mean losing you. How many married women does he know who hang out with seven men on a regular basis? (How many married women he knows at his age full stop—a solid zero—does not enter into his equation). Possessed by a forceful energy, he stands up and the others all look at him.

“I,” he starts, not really sure what he’s going to say, “have to go,” he says simply and leaves the dorms.

The others look at each other with trepidation and then shrug; what will be will be and they’ll be there to pick up whatever pieces there are later.

Yoongi leaves the building and starts walking. It’s far too far to walk to your apartment from the dorm, but he needs to burn off a little of his sudden energy. His mind is whirring, an overpowered carousel, an endlessly streaming slideshow of his relationship with you. He shakes his head and frowns deeply, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He knows he’s coming to you but he doesn’t know what he’s going to say. He sees you, in his mind, on your date, laughing at some man, this company guy, holding hands, kissing goodnight. He shudders.

He can’t tell you to stop dating other people, not if he’s not going to ask you to date him. But is he going to ask you? It seems insane. Impossible. The thought of asking you out is impossible. But the thought of dating you seems somehow… less impossible. Doable. Real. The thought of it being him walking you home. The thought of it being him who kisses you goodnight.

He laughs to himself. What is going on? What has been going on? He can’t have been this blind. Everyone else can’t have been right. He’s excited and terrified in equal measure. He wonders what you feel. If everyone was right that he has feelings, are they right about you, too? If it has taken him this long to realise, maybe you haven’t realised either. He might be walking into disaster. But he can’t stop. He’ll crash that fifth date if he has to.

After a couple of miles, he orders a car to take him the rest of the way. He stands for a moment outside your building; his limbs feel fizzy, his head feels light, and his stomach feels wobbly, but he pushes the intercom button anyway.

“Yoongi!” your voice comes through the speaker, quiet and grainy.

“Can I come up? I won’t be long.”

The buzzer sounds in reply and Yoongi opens the door and runs up the stairs. He has to assume this is a good sign. You’re in your apartment. You’re letting him come up. Your date is not—probably—not there, too. He breathes heavily outside your door, catching his breath, waiting for his heart to slow down a little.

It doesn’t. Not even when his breathing is even and he’s stopped sweating. So, he knocks anyway. When you open the door, you’re already ready for bed: make-up off, hair down, pyjamas on. He has to assume that this is a really good sign.

“What’s up?” you ask as you welcome him in. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, thank you,” he answers, sitting down. “I just needed to talk to you about something. How was your date?”

You sit next to him on the sofa and consider your answer.

“It was good! He’s a nice guy. I think we’re going to go out again next week, maybe.”

You don’t want to overegg the pudding but you’re not sure how to play it, how much to give away, how honest to be. Keep it vague, keep it simple. He will already know it can’t have gone that well if you’re here, all undone, ready for bed.

Yoongi nods, looking serious. Then he stands. Then he asks you to stand, too. Perplexed, you rise and stand in front of him, your expression questioning.

“I’ve been stupid,” he states. “I’ve been really stupid. I have to apologise to you for that. I don’t want to complicate things for you but you have to know this. I like you. I don’t want you to date that other man. I want you to date me.”

“Date you?” you ask, incredulous.

“Yes. That is what I want and I’ve wanted it for a long time; I just didn’t realise it until now. If you want to date that guy, that’s ok, but if you want to date me, well, I want that, too.”

He sounds so sure, so confident, but he doesn’t feel it. His hands clench and unclench at his sides; his ribs are taking a beating from his heart; sweat pricks in his scalp. He can’t say any more. His mouth has dried up. He can only stand and wait for your response. Whatever it may be.

You look surprised then confused, your brows pulling together over your eyes, your lip sucked into your mouth, chewed on.

“I guess—well, no, I know: I also want to date you.”

That’s definitely got to be a good sign. He nods sharply.

“Ok. Good. Fine. Good. That’s all I wanted to say.” A pause. “Sorry for barging in here. It’s late. I’ll let you go to bed.”

He turns to leave and you’re laughing, more incredulous now than before.

“Where the fuck are you going?” you cry, stepping forward and grabbing his arm, turning him around so he’s facing you again. “What are you doing?”

He looks like a deer caught in headlights, a little shocked, a little dazed, like he can’t believe where he is, what’s just happened. And he can’t. Doesn’t seem real. None of it does.

“Oh, I, uh,” he stutters, not sure himself what he was doing, what he’s going to do now.

“You can’t just come in here and tell me you want to date me and then leave! Are you even going to ask me out?”

He blinks and you hear the clock tick like the cogs in his brain turning.

“Do you want me to ask you out?”

“Oh my god!”

You turn, bewildered, really feeling that extra glass of wine you had at dinner. You rub your hands over your face and turn back to him with a smile.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing on Friday?”

“Studio, probably.”

You roll your eyes and take a deep breath.

“No, what are you doing on Friday?”

You stare at him insistently, willing him to see the breadcrumbs you’re laying out for him, to take a fucking hint for once in his life.

“I’- oh. Oh. Uh, do you want to go out with me on Friday?”

“I mean, I was going to ask you out, but yes, yes I do!”

“Oh… Good.”

“Stop saying that!”

“I don’t know what else to say!”

You feel a little drunk, feel a tiny bit like maybe you’ve fallen asleep on the sofa and are just dreaming this. Because it’s come out of nowhere and Yoongi’s standing in your living room asking you out on a date and it’s everything you’ve wanted for all this time and it can’t just suddenly be happening. Just like that. So easy.

He’s blushing and so embarrassed, squirming a little as he stands in front of you, feeling so silly that he showed up so unprepared. Unprepared for any of this. He would have sworn up and down just a few hours ago that you were his friend and nothing more, but now he’s giddy, a little dizzy, feels like he’s actually drunk even though he sobered up on the walk. He feels like he’s dreaming, passed out on the dorm sofa, imagining all of this.

You both feel weird, exposed. You’re crossing that line, however inelegantly, and neither of you is sure how to do it. You laugh, awkwardly, nervous now in front of him. He laughs, too, rubbing a hand at the back of his head self-consciously, looking down at the floor.

“You can stay,” you offer, quietly, a little timid, not quite meeting his eye.

“Stay?”

“Here, tonight. If you want.”

“Do you want?”

“You think I’d have offered if I didn’t?”

You take whatever Dutch courage you have left and close the gap between you, your feet neatly together between his, your fingers toying with the edge of his jumper. You look up at him through your lashes and he’s looking down at you, blinking hard, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides again. You tip your head up to him, willing him to take a step, to take his turn, to not make you have to do all the work.

It's a little much, Yoongi thinks, as he looks down at you. It feels fast, sudden, and he’s so hot, flushing all over as your little fingers pull gently at the hem of his jumper. For a second, he considers backing out, shuffling back just a little—and then he catches himself. It’s not sudden—because he’s known you for months now, he’s felt this for months even if he hid it from himself; it’s not fast, it’s slow. It’s been slow—he’s been slow. Everyone has been telling him, everyone has been saying it and he hadn’t realised, hadn’t got the message, but now he has, so why wait? Why pause? You’re right there in front of him, looking up at him with those enormous eyes, a little shy, a little spark of mischief there.

He unclenches his fists and places his hands on your waist as he dips his head and presses his mouth to yours.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi fic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts fic #suga x reader #suga fluff #suga fic #mmm repost #yoongi drabble #suga drabble #bts drabble

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bridgertonbabe · 1 month

Note

So having read the bridgerton spouse group chats by you and bridgerton family group chats by @holybatgirlz I’ve realised Benedict seems to always been one of the ones getting injured during family games night…

Does Sophie ever ban him from playing after an Injury or flat out refuse to go after she’s had all four kids and Benedict ends up back in hospital and ends up out of action for a few weeks meaning Sophie has four kids and a husband to tend to (and forces the injuring causing party to wait on him hand and foot for the duration of his Convalescence)

Also on another point… reading these makes me wanna write a family games night fic 😂😂

I feel like by the time all the spouses are married in and as they all start their families that Bridgerton game nights would become a bit calmer - only fractionally, but enough that the hospital visits aren't as frequent and the injuries sustained are far less serious. Though the Bridgertons (and Kate) remain insanely competitive to a terrifying degree, the spouses manage to limit game nights to once a year at most and then following the annual game night the spouses make it very clear how little they care for the family's version of a casual night of board/parlour games, and at the very least some of the Bridgertons take their partners feelings on board and attempt to mellow their competitiveness (kinda).

But with that being said, just because the injuries at game nights wind down, doesn't mean casualties don't occur through other competitive dumbass means...

BSSG Group Chat

Sophie: Guys I'm at the hospital.

Penelope: omg are you ok?????

Lucy: oh no what's happened?

Sophie: Ben broke his leg.

Phillip: Shit how did he manage that?

Sophie: He broke it go-karting.

Gareth:

Simon: What the ever living fuck was he doing go-karting?

Lucy: and not to be ageist - but at his age????

Phillip: The fuck is he playing at?

Gareth: i have to know

Gareth: did he go by himself?

Michael: Gareth please don't make this any more tragic for Ben or any more embarrassing for Sophie

Sophie: For your information he wasn't by himself.

Lucy: then who the hell did he go with????

Penelope: wait

Sophie: Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news

Phillip: Oh no

Simon: Please don't say it

Sophie: But it was a Bridgerton sibling day out

Michael: Oh for fuck's sake

Lucy: but greg told me he was going to spend the afternoon helping his mum pick up the flowers and decorations for penelope and eloise's baby shower on saturday!

Penelope:

Simon: As much as I can share in your dismay Lucy I can't say I'm remotely shocked to learn that Daphne and her siblings all lied about their whereabouts to hide the fact that they were having a sneaky go-karting afternoon 😑

Michael: I'm well aware I'm including my wife in this but do none of them have jobs??? Who goes go-karting on a Wednesday afternoon????

Phillip: Lets just be grateful that there was only one casualty from their go-karting escapade.

Sophie: ...

Sophie: Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news again

Simon: Sophie don't you dare

Penelope: oh god do we even want to know

Sophie: But they've all been hospitalised.

Lucy:

Michael: Why

Simon:

Michael: Why must they be like this

Gareth: just how exactly do 8 people get taken to hospital from a single go-karting afternoon?

Phillip: Soph is El ok????? I'm on my way right now

Sophie: She's ok Phil and so is the baby, she's just got a sprained wrist. She fared the best out of them all injury wise.

Penelope: El's fared the best???????

Michael:

Michael: Just what exactly is the extent of the damages we're talking here @ Sophie

Sophie: So Colin has a broken leg to match Ben's, Anthony's in a neck brace, Fran's fractured a couple of ribs, Daph's fractured her arm while Greg's broken his and has bruised his coccyx, and Hy's broken her big toe and is currently sporting an eye patch.

Penelope: COLIN'S BROKEN HIS LEG???????

Penelope: I'm 4 weeks away from giving birth wtf am I supposed to do with Limpy for a husband?!?!?!?

Lucy: ffs greg and i were supposed to be playing tennis with hermione and my brother this sunday 😤

Gareth: at least this isn't your wife:

Gareth: and soph how exactly did hy end up with an eye patch from go-karting?

Sophie: Greg shot her.

Lucy: HE DID WHAT

Simon: He shot her?????

Michael: Wow Greg shot Hy?

Michael: Honestly I would have imagined Fran snapping before Greg

Gareth: @ Sophie if you've previously failed to mention that my wife is wearing an eye patch because she's been blinded in that eye NOW WOULD BE THE TIME TO MENTION IT

Sophie: Relax she hasn't been blinded, it's just precautionary until the swelling's gone down.

Lucy: CAN WE GET BACK TO THE PART WHERE MY HUSBAND SHOT HIS SISTER

Penelope: yeah wtf is Greg doing with a gun????

Simon: And why does he have one for go-karting?!?!??!

Sophie: Ok so it was a BB gun he was using

Lucy: AND HE HAD IT BECAUSE?!?!?!?!?

Sophie: Well you're all going to love this

Sophie: They weren't just doing regular go-karting

Phillip: What

Sophie: They were doing it Mario Kart style.

Michael:

Simon: I actually can't stand them.

Gareth: not to be pedantic but they don't have guns in mario kart

Gareth: did they get it mixed up with gta coz that would make way more sense with all of the injuries they've acculumated

Lucy: are you seriously telling me they were driving go-karts around a track while shooting at each other??????

Penelope: I'm a month away from giving birth to a Bridgerton baby 🙃

Sophie: Basically they were using an assortment of items like hurling banana peels and pouring out oil on the track to make the others slip, they were throwing frisbees and balls at each other which were meant to be like shells and they had a variety of water/nerf/BB guns to take each other out that way. All of which contributed to the massive pile up that caused most of their injuries.

Michael: God almighty

Gareth: question; was hy not wearing a helmet?

Sophie: She was but she had the visor open after Eloise sprayed it over with paint which was how she ended up getting shot.

Kate: Omfg

Kate: I cannot believe this!

Sophie: It's a lot to take in I know.

Kate: I can't believe they didn't invite me!

Michael: Kate do you even care that your husband is in a neck brace?

Kate: Well that's what he fucking gets for not including me! Karma's a bitch and so is Anthony!

Simon: @ Kate

Phillip: God can you imagine what Violet's reaction to this is going to be when she finds out?

Sophie: No need to imagine she already knows.

Penelope: omfg

Gareth: damn you already told on them???

Sophie: Violet was the first person I told as soon as I heard about it all. I'm sick to death of them all acting like this and being so stupidly reckless. Not one of them even stopped to think that it might not be a good idea and now I've got to see after 4 kids with an invalid for a husband, and the rest of their injuries will come as just as great an inconvenience to all of you as well!

Sophie: So yeah I immediately went to Violet to tell on them because I want her to wipe the absolute floor with them for being so thoughtless!!!!!

Penelope:

Gareth:

Michael: You did what had to be done Soph and for that I applaud you 👏👏👏

Sophie: But that's not all, I'm also punishing Ben for being so feckless.

Kate: Oooh kinky

Sophie: Far from it. For starters when I got here Ben wanted to cuddle Vi to cheer himself up but I told him no and that he's getting no snuggles with her from now until his cast comes off.

Gareth: holy shit you're gate-keeping his own daughter from him

Lucy:

Lucy: and i love it

Michael: How quickly did he start to cry?

Sophie: Instantaneously. It was incredibly rewarding.

Sophie: And I'd encourage you all to do the same with your respective Bridgerton in whatever way you see fit.

Penelope: once Colin's home I'll keep offering him food but then just sit and eat it right in front of him 😈😈😈

Gareth: i'm going to get a toy parrot and perch it on hy's shoulder and call her patchy 🦜

Simon: I'm not even going to bother picking Daph up from the hospital. She has to learn she can't keep pulling stunts like this as a mother of four.

Simon: That and I've already started drinking to deal with this nonsense so I couldn't even if I had to.

Phillip: I'm going to make El take and stay with the twins at back to back children's parties this weekend. She'll absolutely fucking hate it.

Kate: I'm just going to laugh in Anthony's face. Probably get the kids to join in too.

Lucy: damn i'm not sure what i'm going to do with greg

Michael: I'm going to withhold sex.

Penelope: damn that's a bold move

Simon: But is that going to be more of a punishment for her or you?

Michael: Not to give you all too much of an insight but that's going to kill Fran more than you'd think it would.

Michael: But that's what she gets for going along with her fam's unhinged competitive behaviour.

Michael: No more snu snu.

Penelope: I actually think if we all withheld sex from our respective partners that they might finally learn their lesson.

Lucy: that's... actually a very valid point that could very much work

Kate: Well we don't call them sex idiots for nothing.

Michael: They're essentially a bunch of horny Tinkerbells; they need sex to live.

Simon: I truly hate that sentiment. But you're not wrong.

Michael: So are you all following my lead? It's your own choice obvs, no pressure if anyone would prefer not to.

Gareth: i'm not exactly chomping at the bit to be having snu snu with patchy

Kate: Yeah neck braces don't make for a turn on either.

Penelope: And being this pregnant I'm not really in the mood for it as it is.

Sophie: Like I'm going to have the time or energy seeing after the kids while Ben's bedridden anyway.

Lucy: fine by me

Simon: I have 0 qualms with this method of punishment.

Phillip: Same here.

Michael: Then it's no snu snu all around! Vive le resistance!

#asks #group chat au #bridgerton spouses #obviously the no snu snu rule wouldn't have lasted for too long at all #but the spouses would have at least had some satisfaction in making their partners suffer for the time that they did

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marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months

Text

Freak Like Them

Summary: Anthony Lockwood x Fe!Reader -> You haven't spoke to your parents in years, and have never once mentioned them. One day, they decided to come and see you.

Disclaimer: This is more of a Lockwood and Co Platonic thing though I guess something could be shown as 'romantic'...kinda. Not proof read. Terrible parents, abandonment, shitty parents though some 'redeemed'. Swearing, angst, tears, found family kinda stuff.

You had been frantically running about all day, cleaning.

Whilst Lucy (tried) to eat her toast in peace, there you were, cloth in hand, taking her unfinished plate from her.

“Hey!”

Lucy watched you for a further moment before saying; “Do you mind?”

“Can’t have a mess. They’ll already find things to comment on.”

“They?”

“Do you know who she’s talking about?”

“No clue.”

“When did she even wake up?” George asked whilst himself, Lockwood and Lucy watched as you cleaned yet another already clean kitchen countertop.

“5, I think. She was up before me.” Lockwood stated.

You had actually been awake since 4, but figured you better start cleaning from 5. It gave you time to wake up, get ready and make sure the whole house was spotless before they came.

“Also, who’s they?”

“They?”

“She said, ‘they’ didn’t she?” Lucy asked, leaning into the duo.

“They are my parents.”

“What?”

“My parents.” you stopped for a moment to look at all three of them huddled together at the end of the table. “They called me last week saying they were coming down for a visit. Only, I completely forgot until last night and now nothing is clean and I don’t know what to do to avoid them saying something.”

“But I thought your parents didn’t like you being-”

“An Agent?” you finished Lockwood’s question. “They didn’t. Probably still don’t. I get a postcard from them every year but other than that, I don’t hear from them. And then, out of the blue they called.”

“And you forgot?”

“Well,” you sighed, looking at George. “I was a little busy trying to stop you three from committing an accidental murder in the Winkleman case last week.”

George remained silent.

“Either way, they’re coming today and I still haven’t finished-”

Lockwood stated your name. “The house is spotless. In fact, it hasn’t been this clean…ever.”

“I know, but I just need today to go well.”

“Why?” George asked, before realising he probably should have remained silent in his questioning.

George and Lucy didn’t know much about your parents, just that you had to have some somewhere. Lockwood knew a little more, but still not much. He knew why you came to London all those years ago. He knew why you left them and why they told you to leave, but other than that, he knew nothing more.

You refused to talk about them.

Anytime family came up in a conversation, you’d steer the conversation onto another topic or deflect it onto somebody else. You’d do it subtly but the others were slowly picking up on it.

“Please,” you begged. “Just…help me make sure today goes well and then they’ll go home and we can get back to normal.”

Neither of the trio knew what they were getting themselves in for when it came to your parents, and it would be too late for them to escape by the time they turned up at the front door.

George had made dinner that night, making sure to follow the recipe you gave him, to a T. Especially since it was your parents’ favourite meal and if he did it well, which you doubted he wouldn’t, then they would accept George and be kind with him.

That just left trying to get Lucy and Lockwood on their good side.

So, when the doorbell rang, Lockwood greeted them at the door, offering to take their coats.

Your mother thanked him and mentioned to her husband, your father, how kind he was.

So Lockwood was in their good books so far, until…

“Ah, my dear.”

Your mother spotted you as you came out of the kitchen and into the hallway. She took both of your hands in hers and kissed the air around your cheeks.

“Couldn’t greet us yourself?”

“Sorry, mum. I was just-”

“Nevermind. There’s always another chance. Are those-”

“Garlic potatoes? Yes. I gave George the recipe. He’s an amazing cook.”

“So are you, dear.” your mother told you. “I should know. I paid for the lessons.”

You could do nothing more than smile and nod before looking at your dad. “Hi, dad.”

“Munchkin, how is my little girl?”

“Goo-”

“She’s well, dear. Can’t you see? Nevermind that. Show us around. We’d like to see how our daughter is surviving after all.”

Your mother forced her way into the living room, your dad following her call whilst you remained outside the room for a short moment to take a breath.

“Are you-”

You nodded quickly at Lockwood, “I’m fine. Can you help Lucy finish the table?”

Lockwood nodded, his gaze wandering into the living room for a second before giving you a slight smile and heading into the kitchen.

Letting go of your forced breath, you entered the living room to find your mother judging every corner she could of the room.

“For London, I would have thought the rooms would be bigger.”

“Well, they are. We’ve just rearranged the furniture to make it cosier for the colder months.”

“And how long do you spend the day being lazy here.”

“Well, we’re not actually in here all that-”

“No need to lie to your mother, dear. I know you can be hard working when you want to be, but I also know children your age.”

Your mother wandered over to the fireplace before rubbing her finger over the top of it.

She hummed, and not in a good way. It was more…disappointment.

“You haven’t polished, I see. I can see now where we come on your scale of importance.”

“Mum, listen-”

“Would anyone like anything to drink?”

You made a mental note to hug Lucy as tight as you possibly could, later.

Your mother’s face lit up. “Oh, my goodness. You must be Miss Carlyle. I have heard so much about you. All from the papers, of course. Our daughter tells us nothing. Aren’t you much prettier in person? Perhaps one day you girls can have a talk over make-up. Perhaps you could teach my daughter a couple of things about presentability.”

Lucy didn’t know how to respond.

Usually, she’d fire back a snarky comment, but this was your mother.

And only now was she beginning to understand the reasons why you didn’t talk about them all that much.

Lockwood appeared behind Lucy for a moment. “Dinner is ready, if you’d like to take a seat in the kitchen.”

Your mother smiled at Lockwood and dropped Lucy’s hands.

“That will be wonderful, Son.” your father replied before all five of you made your way into the kitchen to see George.

The food was plated up perfectly, everything smelled just like how it did at home.

“Mismatched plates, how very…cute.”

You knew your mother didn’t mean that as a compliment.

“This all looks lovely, George.” your father told him before digging in. “My god! The potatoes, how did you-”

“I added a little bit of milk along with some spices left over from the chicken.”

Your father began telling your mother about how they should try and cook it like that when they got home, but your mother was more focused on you and your fellow Agents.

“So, tell me Lucy. When did you become an Agent?”

“W-When I was…eight…I think?”

“I remember the papers. It was awful what happened to those children. But that wasn’t your fault.”

Lucy didn’t know what to say, other than to nod and say an awkward, “Thank you.”

“Mum, can we please not talk about this?”

“I’m only asking a question, dear. Don’t attack me because you don’t like me wanting to get to know your friends.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Don’t talk back, dear. You know how I feel about you talking back.”

The room went silent for a moment before your father coughed and looked at you.

“How has the life of an Agent been treating you? I’m sure you’ve all got some strange stories you’d like to tell?”

“Dear, she just said she didn’t feel like talking about it.”

“No, it’s okay.” you felt a little spark of joy when hearing your father wish to talk about your job.

“Oh, so he can talk about it, but I can’t? Well,” your mother threw down her fork. “All I wanted was to spend time with my daughter and her friends and now suddenly I’m the villain but he’s the saint for asking questions.”

“Mum, I never-”

“I have a story!” George piped up.

All eyes turned to him and he swallowed nervously before telling his story about a case you were all working on a few months ago.

By the end of the story, you could have sworn your dad had pride in his eyes when looking at you.

Your mother, however, was a different case entirely.

“So you just went after them like that?”

“I was saf-”

“If they ran into a burning building, would you follow them? I understand you wish to prove yourself, but didn’t you have a good job there?”

You nodded. “I did, but I-”

“She’s happy now,” your father tried to explain lovingly. “And that’s all that matters-”

“Yes, yes, Dear. So, Anthony, tell me about yourself.”

The following 40 minutes passed in a similar fashion. Your mother asking questions, people answering and then her making a comment about you. Then, your father tried his best to support you.

Even if he didn’t support you when you decided to move to London to join Lockwood and Co, he was supporting you now. He seemed proud, even. But your mother didn’t.

“Did I tell you the story about when she decided she wanted to be an agent?”

You worried but continued to smile. It started out like a nice story.

“She was 14, and just got home from her maths tutors. I paid in full too, so no refund either.”

Oh, no.

“Dear, perhaps we don’t have to-” your father tried interrupting but it was no use. Your mother carried on and so, your father placed his hand gently on your arm whilst your focus remained on your mother, however your other hand found his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

This didn’t go unnoticed by the trio who then endured the story your mother told everyone.

“Can you believe that, my little girl, deciding to become an Agent instead of seaking her talents in-”

“Why don’t we move onto dessert?” your father announced, turning his attention to George who seemed to visibly give a sigh of relief.

“Yes, Lucy will you-”

“On it.”

Lucy led everyone into the living room with Lockwood, although yourself and your dad held back for a moment.

“I’m so sorry, Munchkin. I told her not to-”

“It’s okay, dad.”

“It’s-”

You took his hand on your arm again. “It’s okay, dad.”

As your dad followed Lucy and Lockwood and your mother into the living room, you let out a controlled breath and beside you, you saw a beer bottle.

“Not yet. If she smells it on me, she’ll hit the roof.”

“Maybe it will get her out quicker.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You remained still, your gaze fixed on the door. “No. But it can’t be that long until she leaves. Keep that on ice for me?”

“In the hidden corner of the fridge already.”

“Thanks, George.”

Being careful of your steps, you made your way into the living room where you found your mother in the middle of another story.

Lucy was pouring your dad a drink meanwhile, Lockwood looked at you for a moment, giving a silent questioning look.

“Are you okay?”

You gave a small nod and sat on the arm of the chair beside your dad, listening to another story that your mother told people. All that flashed across your mind was the amount of times you cried yourself to sleep in the nights after a dinner party where she provided people with evidence of what a disappointment you were to her then.

God only knows what she tells them now.

“Oh, please, tell me how my dear daughter is working in your fine establishment?” your mother asked, sitting on the edge of her seat. “And don’t worry, I know she’s not perfect. You can be honest in your review.”

Lockwood stuttered for a moment, understanding full well that when your mother said “she’s not perfect”, she didn’t mean it to be everyone is imperfect but rather you were…terrible.

“She’s doing very well. She’s one of the best…any of us have ever worked with.”

“You’re kidding! Oh, my dear.” your mother was laughing, with tears. “Oh, how cute. Dear, did you pay him to say that?”

“Wait a minute-” Lockwood was about to say something but then your mother looked at her watch.

“It’s getting late, we should go. Come on, dear.”

Your mother stood and thanked everyone, not once making eye-contact with you, before ushering her husband into the hallway.

“What the-”

“Not yet, Luce.” you whispered.

However, as you stood and walked down the hall, you saw your mother fussing over your father’s coat whilst he tried to stop her.

“What’s going on?”

Something in your gut told you what she was fussing over wasn’t his coat, but rather something she would get off her chest and your father was trying to stop her.

“Nothing, Munchkin.”

“We think you should come home.”

Lockwood, Lucy and George sprang into the hall when they heard your mother.

“What?”

“Just until you get better.”

“Better?”

“Clearly you paid Mr Lockwood to say that about you. I am your mother after all, I should know when your boss is lying.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Why should I come home? This. This place. This is my home. It’s been more of my home than a house with you has ever been.”

“No need to be spiteful, dear.”

“Just stop it!”

“See, look, she’s making me the villain again-”

“Enough!” you shouted out. “Can’t you see I’m happy here? I love my job and I love these people. I understand you don’t like the fact that you can’t say to your friends that I’m some fancy accountant doing peoples taxes until three o’clock in the morning, but it should be enough for you that I am happy. I am doing a job I love and I have people that I love.”

“I told you she was happy-”

“How can she be? She’s going to be a freak, just like the rest of them!”

“That is enough!” your dad raised his voice. “She has a point. It should be enough that she’s happy and she’s in a job she loves. Maybe we didn’t agree in the beginning, but it wasn’t something worth losing our daughter over! And she’s not a freak. These children are not freaks. They are talented, incredible human beings who shouldn’t have been brought into a world of fear, but are making the most of life all the same. I don’t care what she does. What I care about is knowing who she is. What I care about is if she is happy. Not if your friends and their old minds are satisfied over the stories you tell them. We haven’t seen her in almost three years and you can’t take a few hours to be kind and proud of her! I am not going another three years without seeing our daughter.”

“So what are you saying? Are you staying here?”

“I’m saying either realise what you could lose, or I leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Either change or I leave. And I move down here with her and we don’t see you ever again.” your father looked back to you where he found you looking at him with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Munchkin. It should have taken me this long.” he turned back to your mother. “She was brave enough to make the choice three years ago, and now I’m making it, too. So?”

You and your father waited, watching as your mother stood shocked at your father’s words before turning to look at you.

“You’ll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But you will.”

“No, I won’t.”

Then she turned back to your father. “I’ll be at Janice’s if you need me.”

“Goodbye, Dear.”

Your mother did nothing other than turn around and close the door behind her.

“I’m so sorry, Munchkin. I should have said something sooner. Much, much sooner.”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s not. But I will spend the rest of my days trying to make it up to you.”

“Are you really sure you want to live in London?”

Your father paused for a split second. “Maybe a few minutes outside of London.”

You laughed a little, and so did he. “I’m getting a little too old for city life.”

You stood, looking at him for a moment before hugging him. “Thank you.”

“I love you, Munchkin. And I am sorry.”

“I love you, too.”

The following fifteen minutes were spent trying to get your father to consider staying for the night, but he eventually convinced you that he would be okay in a local hotel room - especially since he had a discount from work.

As the door closed behind him, you locked it shut and as you turned around, Lucy came running over and hugged you.

“It’s a shit deal.”

“Thanks, Luce. Please tell me George has my beer-”

“Right here.”

“You’re an angel.”

“Was she always like that?” Lockwood asked.

You swallowed your beer with a nod. “It was a little easier in the beginning, but…yeah. Always.”

“Anyone for donuts?” George asked when a short moment came over all of you.

“Yes.”

“Please.”

As Geroge and Lucy left towards the kitchen, Lockwood pulled you back.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Because that was…”

You touched his hand that loosely held yours. “I’m okay.”

Lockwood looked like he wished to say something more, so you waited.

“If…if there comes a day, when you’re not. Promise you’ll come to me? That you’ll talk to me.”

“I promise, Lockwood.”

#lockwood and co #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lucy carlyle #george karim #angst #found family #renew lockwood and co #fluff #love #anthony lockwood x fe!reader #lockwood and co x fe!reader

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asumofwords · 1 year

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: How good is tension? Am I right? haha.... ha...

Chapter 20: A last Walk

Helaena arrived some time after Aemond left you at the Godswood. Breaths still heavy in your chest as rage bubbled up inside you. There was still that ever present slither of guilt that perhaps he was right.

You did enjoy it.

Your aunt's sweet face is a welcomed distraction, though you could not help but notice her skittish behaviour as she arrived to you. Every time you reached out to touch her, she would flinch away from you.

You spoke very little as you walked away from the Godswood and out to the garden together side by side.

Halfway through your walk in the garden you paused and called her name. She stopped, eyes still cast to the floor rather than meeting your own.

You reached out to hold her hand, watching as her body tensed.

“Dear Helaena, what has happened?” You asked in concern, hand slowly coming forward to grasp hers.

Her fingers were raw and bleeding, the skin at her cuticles gone. Helaena relaxed slightly in your hold, but her eyes still did not meet yours.

“Aunt Helaena?” You asked again, quieter this time, pulling her hands towards you.

With the movement, her tight sleeve rolled slightly up her arm, revealing the edge of a deep purple bruise. It bloomed from beneath her sleeve, the edges fading as large spots of burst capillaries stood out amongst the rest.

Looking down at the skin, you inhaled sharply. “Did he do this to you?”

You watched as she pulled her sleeve down awkwardly, face tense as she still refused to look up.

“Only when he is drunk.” She murmured.

“We have to tell the Queen.” You implored the Princess, holding her gently, dipping your head to try and catch her eyes.

“She knows.”

The rage bubbled up and boiled over. The Queen, her mother knows of the abuse and does nothing? You wonder what else the Queen knew about and swept under the rug.

The oh so valiant Queen who has looked down her noses at you and your family for years, ever the image of decorum and duty, allows her son to abuse her only daughter, and for what? You did not know.

“Come with me,” You blurted, “to Dragonstone. Bring your children and stay with us. Rhaenyra would love to have you stay. You are her only sister.”

Finally your aunt's eyes came to meet yours. Her eyes were tired and red rimmed, little shadows under them as she smiled sadly at you.

“I cannot leave.”

“You can,” You insist, “You can ride Dreamfyre with me and Sȳndor to Dragonstone. The babes can voyage on the ships with my brothers. You would be safe there.”

“I'm sorry.” She stuttered, casting her eyes to look at the garden around you, continuing to walk forward.

You chased after her, “You can’t let him do this to you! He is cruel.”

“He is my husband.” She shrugged.

“What about your children Helaena?”

“He does not see them.” She replies coldly, eyes straight ahead.

“Helaena, please.” You beg, grabbing her once more, pulling her to a stop. She slowly turns her head to you.

“I have to stay. For Aemond.” She looks at you.

“Aemond? What doe-“ Realisation dawned on you. You hold her gaze as she watches you knowingly.

Aegon isn’t the father of her children.

“Oh.” You said dumbly, not knowing what to say.

“Helaena please, I care for you too much to know you are in pain.” You beg, softer this time.

She holds your gaze, squeezing your hand before giving you a small smile. Her answer is final. She would not join you on Dragonstone, and instead would live out her life at the Red Keep with an abusive husband, and her sadistic brother.

“Promise me you will leave if it gets worse?” You implore, “Promise me? Send a raven, or ride to us immediately. Know that you always have a place with us. No matter what happens. You have refuge on Dragonstone.” You search her eyes as she continues to look at you.

She merely blinks at you, before nodding slowly.

You began to walk together slowly after the confession, the tension between you both growing. You walked until you sat yourselves on a long stone bench, looking out across the ocean.

You felt grief as you sat. Grief in knowing that your aunt was being abused. Grief in knowing that you did not know when you would see her again.

There was grief in knowing that the Queen knew of all this and did nothing. Grief for your grandfather's worsening condition. Grief for the loss of your childhood.

Grief churned inside of you until it swallowed you whole. You fell straight into the depths of it, tears escaping your eyes as you sat beside your aunt. You did not know that you could feel such pain.

You tried to blink the tears away, but only more came. You sucked in a sharp breath, clearing your throat before turning your head away from your aunt in an attempt to hide your sorrow.

You looked at the flowers, their forms blurred and distorted through your tears, mind racing away from you, as you found yourself overwhelmed.

Your thoughts were broken by the gentle touch of a hand, holding yours in your lap. You turn to look at your aunt, who was watching the water. She did not witness you cry, but only held you as you did.

A small comfort.

“I’m sorry.” You cried, wiping your face with the shoulder of your dress. She only held onto you tighter.

“We will see each other again, very soon.” She whispered.

“I hope so.” You sob.

“Hope.” She parroted, voice seeming further away.

Finally you turned to look at your aunt. Her gaze was still on the water, though her expression was unreadable.

“One eye closed, another opened. What was lost, cannot be found.” She spoke, staring out at the ocean.

“A dragon's death for a dragon's breath. A spool of green to black.”

Dread settled in your stomach.

“Three dragons will fall, one will rise.”

“Spool of green, spool of black. Union of blood and fire.” Her face tensed. She turned to look at you squeezing your hand tight, before looking back out across the sea.

“Spool of green. A great fall.”

“I do not know what you mean.” You breathed.

She did not respond.

“Helaena what does it mean?” You asked, hoping she would answer.

“Helaena?” You searched her face.

Slowly she turned her head, eyes sad, “A great fall.” She uttered.

Then once more, she looked away, watching the tide pull fluffy tips of white waves across the ocean, the sun glittering in its light. You both sat in silence, watching the waves swell and crash against the rocks below.

You did not speak again.

Both you and your aunt walked together back into the Red Keep. No goodbyes were said, and no more tears were shed either. All that was done was a tight embrace, where your aunt tucked her head into the crux of your shoulder. You held each other for some time, praying that she would change her mind and come with you.

She did not.

Numbly you walked back to your chambers, finding Saria and Aella tidying and packing your things away. Your jewellery was gone from the vanity, decanter and cups put away in the kitchens below, and the bedroom began to look as it did when you arrived.

The bed had been stripped and its sheets replaced. Golden blankets were folded neatly at the edge. The room in which you had grown in, now looked as though no-one had lived there.

Even the fire had been put out. No smouldering embers sat in the bottom, only the ash from the log that once was.

The room felt as though it was closing in on you and panic began to race in your veins, and your breath caught in your chest. Stepping backwards you stormed out of the chambers, swiftly walking through the corridors hoping to get away from the suffocating feeling. You walked and walked until you stopped, finally looking at your surroundings.

You stood in the Great Hall, staring at the beastly Iron Throne. The swords melted into a sharp seat. Rows of blades stood pointed upwards around it and down the stairs in front. This throne had led to many peoples ruin.

Your grandmother died in birth to push out a male heir to replace your mother. Alicent gave birth to males like your grandfather had chased for years, but neither named successor. Your father Daemon had been suspected of lusting for the throne and was banished. Your great aunt and grandmother, Princess Rhaenys, The Queen Who Never Was, had the throne taken from her, for the realm would never accept a Queen to sit upon its sharp seat.

Rhaenys had told your mother that men would rather set the realm to the torch than have a woman ascend the throne, and she was right.

You knew that many would not accept your mother as the Queen. After Aegon was born, many expected him to be named the new heir, but it never happened.

Though your mother preached to create a new order, where Queens could sit on the Iron Throne without question, she did not name you heir, for she knew that the realm would never accept two Queens.

And although you have never outright wanted the throne, you always felt an ache knowing that it would never be yours, despite being the first born.

You may as well have been a second son.

No, the throne would be taken away from you, just like it was taken from Princess Rhaenys, and any other woman across the realms who were the rightful heir to their kingdoms and lands, having been stripped away by men.

You stood at the jagged seat, its points glinting from the light that streamed in from the windows around the Hall. Your legs moved forward, walking you up towards the towering Iron Throne. Footsteps echoing in the empty room, the sound of your dress rubbing against your skin softly rustled beneath you.

With each step you felt your breath even, back straightening as you stopped on the top of the last step.

Eye to eye with the Iron Throne, you looked over every sword's hilt and blade, each one different in their size and craft. Each one; a man conquered and fallen. Each blade a battle that had been won.

Power.

You reached a hand forward, resting your fingertips on the arm of the throne. It was cool to the touch, the blades hard beneath your fingers. Your eye was caught as you looked to one blade on the arm. Its hilt was twisted and raw, melted down onto the others, the edge of the blade still looking sharp.

“What are you doing?” A voice cuts across the room, pulling you from your thoughts.

You jerk your hand back, finger tip slicing on the edge of the blade. You hiss pulling your finger up to your face, blood beginning to bead from the small cut.

Turning, you saw Jacaerys, standing in the same clothes from this morning, watching you with an inquisitive face.

“Saying goodbye to the Keep.” You respond, pulling your finger to your lips, sucking the blood into your mouth. The bitter taste of iron coated your tongue.

“Odd place to say goodbye.” He responded, walking to the bottom of the steps.

You looked down at him from where you stood, Iron Throne towering behind you.

From where you were, your brother looked small, the presence of the mangled swords behind empowered you. This is where you belonged. This was your legacy. This was your birthright.

To stand where your Grandfather stands, where Aegon the Conqueror had stood and all those powerful ancestors, standing exactly where you were, all ruling the realms on the backs of Dragons.

This was your blood.

“You look like Queen Visenya.” He commented, head tilting as he gazed at you. You huffed a laugh through your nose stepping down away from the throne, coming to join your brother in front of you.

“I will never be Queen.” You state, watching him.

“You should be.”

You blink.

A bitter laugh escaped you as you turn your head away from him, looking to the large stained glass windows to the side, colours streams of light landing on the stone floors.

“You will be King one day,” You look back to him, his features soft like your mother, “and we will be thankful for it. You will make a fine King.” You praise, though a sad smile betrayed you.

“You are the eldest. It should be you on the throne after mother, not me.”

You laugh bitterly again.

“We both know that the realm would not accept me. It will barely accept mother with Aegon around. It did not accept Princess Rhaenys.” You argued.

“No. You will ascend the throne, and the realm will be gladdened for it.” You pause, “I will be gladdened for it.” You reach for his arm, looping yours through it.

You turn the both of you to face the throne.

“You will be King one day, and you will sit upon that throne, just as mother will, just as our Grandsire the King does. You will sit on the Iron Throne as your blood intends you to.”

You look to him shortly before gazing back, “You are the blood of the mighty houses Targaryen and Velaryon. There is no-one more suited to the throne than you.”

“Except you.” Jacaerys countered, eyes still on the throne. “I never wanted the throne. I always thought that it would go to you,” He turns to watch your face, “I am surprised that mother has not named you her successor.”

“As am I.”

You look at him, his face filled with guilt. You both knew that she had chosen him to be her successor, and although she had not made it official, she had still mentioned it in past discussions.

You take a deep breath, squeezing his arm to you, “I do not question her choice, I will always support you. Please know that.”

Jacaerys' young face turned serious as he looked to the large throne before him.

“It's not right. Women have a place on the throne just as much as men do.”

“My sweet brother,” You cooed, placing a hand against his chest, “Not all think like you. It does not matter what is right or not. Men will always be given preference on the throne and in the realms. That is the hard truth. Some men would sooner fall on their sword than be ruled by a woman.”

“We should let them.”

“It’s naive to think that way.” You shake your head, “When you are King, you will have to make hard decisions. That is the way of the world.”

“It shouldn’t be. When mother is Queen, sh-“

“It does not matter, Jacaerys. No matter what mother does, no matter how good of a Queen she will be, some people in the realm will not accept it. They would rather be ruled by a drunken fool than a level headed Queen. Women have been trampled on by men for thousands of years, it will not change in a day.”

“It could. I would sacrifice-”

“Sacrifice?” You hissed, “What would you know of sacrifice? What do men know of sacrifice? Nothing.” You shake your head rapidly, the rage from the day boiling up inside of you. “If I was born with a cock between my legs, many things would be different.”

“You could have the throne,” He argues, “if you-“

“If you truly think that, then you are a fool.” You hiss.

Regret immediately hit you as you watched your brother look away in shame, sadness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt, standing in front of him, reaching to hold both of his hands, “That was unkind. You are not a fool.” He continues to stare at the wall, evading your gaze, brow furrowed.

“You will be one of the greatest Kings to ever live, and everyday you make me proud to call you my brother. I have known no-one like you. You are a rare man,” his gaze finally meets yours, face still tense, “your kindness knows no bounds. You are unwavering in your braveness, endlessly witty, but most importantly you’re you.”

Jacaerys rolls his eyes at you.

“Dont you roll your eyes at me,” You chastise, “If there were more men like you, then I could sit on the throne without the realm being put to the torch.”

Jacaerys nibbles at his lip, chewing the skin.

“Stop that.” You swat at his lip.

Your brother gives you a shy smile.

“I mean it. There will be no greater person fit for the Iron Throne than you.” You loop your arm back in his, turning him to leave the The Great Hall, casting one last glance at the Iron Throne, “Besides, the realm does not need a Queen with such a temper.” You joke, pushing against his shoulder.

“You? Temper?” Jacaerys mocks.

“I’m afraid so,” You say with fake sorrow, “I would be called Maegor with Teats.”

Jacaerys snorts out a laugh, it echoing through the empty space as you get closer to the large doors.

“All jests aside, I meant what I said.”

“As did I.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men

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marsprincess889 · 8 months

Text

NAKSHATRAS AS GODDESSES

5/27

🌙Mrigashira🦌

DISCLAIMER: This is based solely on my research and the patterns that I saw. I can't promise that I'm gonna be sure in all the coorelations, but I'm going to attribute each nakshatra a goddess that I think fits it the closest. If you're dissapointed, to make up for it, I'm going to list some other deities in the end that I think also fit the nakshatra. Don't come for me if you think I'm wrong, be respectful in the comments if you think so and have fun 🤍

This one is more of a collection of very similar goddesses who are all pretty much well-suited for Mrigashira. I still chose the principal goddess, although it was very hard to focus on only one.

Flidais

Pantheon: Celtic

Name meaning: soft-haired, fair haired.

Associations: Hunting, woodlands, wild animals, cattle, deer.

Symbols: deer

Flidais is a somewhat obscure Celtic goddess of the hunt. She's similar to more famous goddesses: Artemis and Diana, but unlike them, she's not a virgin and her story is different.

The mythology of Mrigashira is about how the seeming perfection of Rohini (the union of sexes) gets shattered. It's the birth of seduction and pursuit between the sexes, this is the place where Eve eats the forbidden fruit and becomes aware that she's separate from the male, not just something to be placed under his submission, as she was in Rohini. In Hindu mythology, when Rohini realizes that she's desired by Brahma, she turns into a doe and flees. Brahma then turns into a deer and chases her, before his head is cut off by God Rudra (God of the next nakshatra_ Ardra), thus, the deers's head being Mrigashira's symbol.

The story of goddess Flidais goes like this: She's unhappily married to a man she dies not love, feeling stuck and not knowing what to do, until another man appears, with whom she shares a deep love. He gets challenged by Flidais's husband, and he wins. As a reward, he gives deer and cattle to Flidais, for her to have something on her own, placing his faith in her. In one myth, she's said to have transformed into a stag.

Flidais has a surname, Foltcháin, meaning "beautiful(soft) hair". Mrigashira belongs to a clan of nakshatras called Pulastya (smooth haired).

Besides Flidais, there are other goddesses that can be coorelated to Mrigashira. One of them is Dali- Georgian goddess of the hunt, deer and other horned wild animals. She's said to have beautiful, long golden hair and is the Goddess that governs the rules of the hunt. Either completely nude or dressed only in white, she frequently mated with humans as she wished, just like the female in Mrigashira awakening to her own sexual power. She was said to be unbelievably beautiful, both irresistible and terrible. Dali was harsh with those who violated her rules. She lived in a cavern in a mountain. Parvati, the goddess that was born under this nakshatra, was the goddess of mountains, among other things.

There is also a story about a celtic maiden named Sadhbh, who refused to accept a Druid's advances and because of that, was cursed to be a doe. After three years, the serving man of that druid took pity on her and said that if she were ever to set foot in the dún (castle, fort) of the Fianna of Ireland, the curse would be lifted. Fianna were small bands of warrior-hunters in Ireland during the Iron age and early middle ages. Sadhbh travelled straight to a house that belonged to a Fionn. She was found by him as a doe when he was out hunting. His dogs didn't harm her since they too had been humans before. When they returned to the house, Sadhbh was once again a beautiful girl. They got married.

After Fionn was called to battle against the Vikings, the druid reached Sadhbh and laid the same curse on her, again. Fionn spent several years searching for his wife, but without success. At the end of those seven years he found a wild boy in the forest who said he was raised by a doe. Fionn looked at his face and recognising his wife's features, he realised that he was looking at their son. The boy was Oisín, a famous figure in Irish mythology.

Another interesting deity is the Albanian goddess Zana- goddess of the mountains. Zana were said to be fairies who lived in the mountains and bathed in waterfalls and river streams in nature. They're said to have a very brave character that was known to all. She's a somewhat obscure goddess given her name comes from the name of a creature, but I thought that she was interesting nontheless.

I want to talk about Mrigashira's ruling deity- the moon god Soma. Soma is also known to be the exilir of immortality. Mrigashira's power is to give fulfillment, so to drink Soma, to eat the forbidden fruit, to attain something not everyone has access to is risky, but it's worth the risk. Mrigashira is also associated with quests, adventures and bravery (just like Bharani, the other Venus-Mars ruled nakshatra). The real life natives of Mrigashira are often daring and inquisitive, always craving something else besides what they have.

The moon god being Mrigashira's deity makes me think that Artemis- Greek goddess of the moon, hunting, deer and other wild animals is a great fit for it, but her virginal nature is not in alignment with Mrigashira. If we think of her virginity as simply her being unmarried and independent, then she definitely can be coorelated to Mrigashira. The same goes for Diana- her Roman equivalent.

Some other deities I coorelated to Mrigashira other than Flidais:

Artemis- Greek goddess of hunting, deer, wild animals, the Moon and virgins.

Diana- The Roman equivalent of Artemis.

Dali- Georgian goddess of hunting, deer and other horned wild animals.

Zana- Albanian fairy goddess of the mountains.

Sadhbh- Irish doe-maiden goddess

Cernnunos- Celtic horned god, the god of wild things.

This is it for Mrigashira. I'm very happy I found the Goddesses whose mythologies were so obviously similar to Mrigashira's. As I said, it was hard to choose just one, but I think that I made the right choice, given that Flidais ticked off the most similarities. I'm consistently fascinated by the coorelations between seemingly unrelated cultures and this one was big. It's also my sun, rahu and saturn placement, so no pressure there lol.

Anyways, let me know what you think. Like COMMENT AND REBLOG, please interact with me if you found this interesting. Love you, and take care 🤍🤍🤍

#mrigashira nakshatra #mrigashira #vedic astrology #astrology #nakshatras #astrology observations #goddesses #astro notes #sidereal astrology #celtic paganism #celtic goddesses #georgian goddess #albanian goddess

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