#i honestly cannot remember for the life of me the last time i had a good end of the year
Note
I DONT KNOW IF YOU WRITE FULL FICS BUT IF YOU DO PLEASE WIRTE ONE ABOUT TGAT LAST ASK.
Just about Astarion sitting in his throne of sorts, in the palace, with tav sitting in his lap. He’s bored, tav sits there- dissociating and wishing they were anywhere else. He asks them if they’d like to do something fun and they say something like “Only if you do my lord” and he saddens some, expecting them to come up with something fun like they used to but they can’t think of anything that he would approve of them doing after so many years of breaking them down and he realizes it’s gotten so dull because tav was the person that brightened his life
"Awfully dull today, hmm? How would you like to do something fun, my love?"
It's an oh-so rare quiet day in the Crimson Palace, and his favorite source of amusement sits placidly on his lap, silent as the grave and still atop him. Content as he is in the peaceful quiet with solely her company, he'd spend the day with her doing– well, something, surely. It’s been a while since they’ve had any time to themselves to truly enjoy each other’s company alone. In fact, he cannot recall the last time with any distinct accuracy.
It seems so terribly long since they've had any time to themselves. Being a Lord keeps you awfully busy.
In a tender moment, he reaches forward to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear with a long, pale finger. She doesn’t react save a slight instinctual flicker of her lashes. Not a hint of expression on her face. He expects her to lean into his touch as she used to and is almost shocked when she does not.
Odd, he thinks. She hardly even seems to notice anything at all.
It’s almost like she isn’t entirely present.
Still, before he can chastise her, she responds to his bid for her attention.
"If that is your wish, my lord,” She responds to his question, lifeless and monotone. Perfectly obedient, just as befits her, and yet—
He frowns, just a little. It irks him, but now that he thinks about it, he cannot recall the last time he saw enthusiasm on her face– or much of anything at all aside from the blank, hollow mask she has now. Completely impassive and unresponsive in a cruel sort of practiced indifference.
He studies her for a moment and comes to the conclusion that it reminds him of the robots they found in that strange tower in the Underdark so long ago. Programmed to respond to the right things and make the right moves, but utterly incapable of acting on her own whims. Eternally awaiting instruction.
Empty. Robotic. Precise and yet disingenuous somehow. Eerily so.
Has she been like this before? Has he simply not noticed?
Perhaps she just needs to awaken a little more. It was such a long night, and he had kept her remarkably busy. She must be exhausted, but surely, she will perk up. She always does.
Doesn’t she?
“Come, darling. What would you like to do?” He jostles his knees, dandling her on his legs like one might a small, particularly grumpy child. She bumps up and down, only reaching to steady herself on the sides of his throne.
“Whatever would please you would please me, my lord.”
He groans, rolling his red eyes, a very sudden burst of irritation bubbling in his gut. Always with the My lord, My lord, scraping and bowing like some sort of indentured serf. Proper respect is important, of course, but for the first time in a while— longer than he can honestly think back on, to be honest— they are entirely alone. He is her Lord, yes, but she knew him by another name once– did know him by another name. She knows better than to tease him in front of his vassals but surely—
He can’t remember the last time she said his name.
His real name.
How long since he has truly sat by her side and talked with her? Spent time with her? He's been so busy, laying plans and waste, conquering and shedding blood of those who oppose him. The Lord Tyrant, come to rule over his dominion of Eternal Night. She is always by his side, never straying and yet—
(“I love you, Little Star,” She’d laugh, planting a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, which would promptly crinkle in annoyance.
“I’m not ‘Little Star,’ and I’ll never understand why you insist on calling me that.”
“That’s what your name means, doesn’t it? Little Star? Or perhaps Little Starlight– I don’t really remember.”
“Then why make that my pet name?" He rolls his eyes, annoyed at the use of his own childish moniker that follows him like a shadow to anyone who speaks even a lick of his native language. "Of all the things your brilliant little mind can concoct, you give me a child’s handle? I’m strong, dashing, capable, handsome, fearsome– but instead you choose that absurdity”
“Because you’re my little star!” And she would smile so brightly that it seemed impossible in the darkness, and he could not help but smile himself. “My light in the darkness. My Astarion, for as long as you want to be. And I love you.”
His expression would soften once again and he would simply sigh, pulling her close to kiss her temple. The night was cold, but she was so impossibly warm against him, somehow fitting perfectly in his lap and into his heart, where she’d wormed her way in against his own will. The dim firelight reflects in her eyes as she tells him again that she loves him forever if he’ll have her, and he can think of nothing he’d desire more than to ride out the endless night of eternity with her here on his lap, cradled close.)
Something gnaws at him. Something raw and edged with a vicious sort of misery he’d done so well to avoid in ages. He cannot place it but as he looks at her, his stomach is as a dark, abyssal pit, circling and swelling like a maelstrom.
Something is wrong.
He cannot place the negative emotion, and so he does as he always does now, making the strange yearning her responsibility to soothe.
He lashes out at her.
“I’m growing bored,” He says with a cold, cruel edge to his voice. “You know how much I dislike boredom, don't you, darling?"
What he seeks is a reaction. A sudden spark of life from within her. For her to grab his hand and take him to do— to do something. Surely—
And yet, with a motion so fluid that it implies an aged and practiced skill, she slides from his lap down to her knees before him, reaching towards the laces of his breeches. There is nothing behind her eyes as she extends her hand forward to unlace him, hardly even seeing him. Nothing at all.
“What are you doing?” He slaps her hands away, scowling down at her, taken back by her brashness.
“You said you were bored, my Lord.”
“And why would you think–”
Because that is what he’d taught her.
That her body was built for his amusement; his temple to defile at will. Because of the cold nights in the castle after so many years where he would reach for her, and she would quiver and shake her head with eyes rimmed red and puffy and beg to be left untouched and yet he would speak the words without thinking and she would bend for him any way he wished.
Because even as she would obey, she would cry and turn away, and he would give it little thought until one night the crying and protesting simply stopped. He thought she had learned. Made peace with her duties and loyalty to him and what it entailed. Mayhaps she had come to realize that her theatrics had little impact on him and surely, he wasn’t so wretched to her now that these waterworks were necessary. His touch could not repulse her so that her weeping was remotely acceptable. She loves him, surely she—
Because he would command her until she would kneel, and so now, she kneels without command.
He sighs, breathing the fire from his lungs, reaching down to pull her back up into his lap. She does not respond, only obeys in kind to his guiding instruction as he settles her back down on his legs. He finds a semblance of patience from within himself which is a strange and unusual feeling, mustering it up to once again ask:
“My dear, what is it that you would like to do?”
Her head cocks. She does not understand.
"What would you enjoy? If you had the freedom to do anything, what might it be?"
It takes a moment, but for the first time, a reaction: Confusion. It is slow to take hold but becomes blaringly apparent as it does. It is not as if she doesn’t know the answer, but almost as if she doesn’t understand the question.
“Whatever you would like to do, my Lo–”
“No, no, darling. What is it you would like to do?” He impresses, harsher this time, and she flinches, recoiling from… something.
From him.
If her heart was still capable of beating, he'd be able to hear the way it pumps into overdrive. As it stands, he cannot, but he is aware no less. Her scent changes entirely around him to something that has his brows furrowing. Shortness of breath, dilating pupils, hands beginning to quake— Adrenaline. Steel-edged anxiety. As if this is not a question at all, but rather a test and she does not know the answer, and failure means his displeasure and his displeasure means–
"I— What would you—" She hard-swallows, harrowed by the open-endedness of the question. "—I want what—"
("Come to the meadow with me, Asto," She would grab his hand with a mischievous smile when their compatriots were fast asleep, tugging him up from the comfort of his bedroll. "I want you to come with me."
"It's late, darling. Wouldn't you rather come here and lie with me?" He would try to tug her back down playfully, but would fall against her aggressive temerity, being pulled to his feet through her sheer will. She would stifle her giggling with a hand as she guided him past their slumbering companions, through the tree line and deep into the forest.
"Come on, lazy boy, come! Come with me!"
"Well, I'm trying to—"
She would hush him and yank him by the wrist, out into the field where he'd first had her, down once more into a bed of wildflowers and long grass. Her melodic laugh like a strange song as she yanks him to the ground despite his weak protests until she would lie her head on his chest and trace gentle patterns on his white shirt against his flexed chest.
"We don't have to come all the way out here to make love, darling—" He would move to try to kiss her, but she would adamantly press her head against his torso, insisting he stay down in the dirt with her.
"I'm not trying to seduce you," She would giggle, pointing at the star-spangled sky. "I want to lie under the stars with you."
"But… why?"
"Because I know we'll have eternity to do it, but it's my favorite moon tonight and it reminded me of you."
He squints, struggling to find anything different about it at all. "I don't notice anything, darling. It looks very much like the moon we see every night."
"It's so full and bright! Look at the rays!" She holds her hand out as if to cradle a silvery moonbeam in her palm. "It reminds me of the color of your hair."
She reaches over him to delicately pluck something from the grass, tucking it gingerly behind his ear after she does so. "These poppies are the same beautiful deep red of your eyes in the moonlight. I feel safe here; home, with you. I just wanted to enjoy it for a moment. Just the two of us."
He would wrap his arms around her waist, squeezing so tightly that she would gasp and worm about, trying to return the favor, and yet he would not relent.
"I want you to feel safe with me," he would whisper into her hair, desperately trying to memorize the scent of it, as if expecting Bhaal himself to come and steal her from his frantic embrace. "Now and forever, I want to feel home in your arms, with you.")
He thinks, for a moment, to return to that meadow, and that perhaps his love— the one he remembers— will return to him. As if her ghost still lingers there, trapped and waiting to be rescued.
He can’t.
It is not a meadow any longer, but a battlefield, not unlike the vile destruction left in Ketheric's wake at Raithewait; another one in a million places sacrificed in his conquest for glory, littered with bodies and bones. A graveyard tribute to his power, scorched soil and dead grass. No flowers bloom there anymore— there is nowhere for them to bloom between the suffocating aura of death.
All that is left is a beautiful memory buried beneath a river of dried blood, and you cannot water flowers with dried blood or wean them on bone dust. That meadow is one moment suspended in time as trapped in amber, impossible to claw free from its temporal prison. He cannot remember the last time he saw that jovial smile she had saved just for him in that damned meadow.
He cannot recall the last time she said the words "I love you" and cried his name as a preternaturally beautiful siren song without being commanded.
He frowns, feeling something strange and haunting in his chest. Something viciously clawing up his throat as he looks at her: at her empty red eyes that were once the most beautiful color, full of love and life when she looked upon him; at her contorted expression that used to be as radiant as the sun and he could have sworn that her light could have sustained him through the dark, miserable nights of his eternal curse if only she was by his side; at the frailty of her body that almost seems to creak and break beneath his weight.
"My love, look at me."
And she does, if not by command, then by instinct.
"Smile for me, will you? Can you do that for me?"
And she does, her lips turning upward and raising to reveal two sharp teeth— and nothing more. It's uncanny and revolting and wrong. There is nothing behind her eyes, nothing at all. No light, no life, and certainly no love.
He used to be able to see himself in her eyes. How her heart sang for him, cheeks blossoming with blood at the sight of him. He could hear her heart rabbit behind her ribs, her hands quaking with excitement to touch him even in the most innocent of ways. Through her eyes, he found his own value— his own worth— and finally began to understand that he deserved love; he deserved happiness. She had healed him, giving almost all of herself to do it, selflessly and without asking for anything in return even as he despised himself and refused his own agency—
And she stares at him now with soulless eyes, he is left to wonder if he has taken too much from her in his quest to take everything. Wonders if she will ever be that lovestruck, moon-eyed girl again, wanting nothing more than to lie under the moonlit meadow with him. If she will ever kiss his eyelids as a delicate butterfly and whisper eternity in his ear. If she will ever feel safe and home and loved around him again in his embrace–
Save she is no longer quaking with anticipation at his touch, but trembling from fear, lost and terrified at the posing of a simple question. Her scent is foreign even as it is familiar and he cannot recall when it began to change. There is something in her eyes that haunts him, and though he can see himself within him, what stares back is not him. A terrible realization rakes knives down his soul, a gaping maw threatening to swallow him whole. A tightening in his lungs, and even as he does not breathe, he does not believe he could even if he tried.
“Darling?”
“Yes, my Lord?”
Her face is impassive once more. Perfect porcelain expression. Not a crack in the mask. Not a wrinkle in the facade. Practiced day in and day out until it becomes real. He remembers it well.
How long has it been? How long since he has looked at her? Truly looked at her? Spoken to her? Told her he loved her?
Showed her he loves her?
When was the last day he did not command from her that which she begged not to willingly give?
He cannot remember. He cannot recall.
He demanded and she had no choice but to give. More and more and more. He drained her dry and now where was once his sacred oasis, there is nothing at all. No matter how long he looks, there is never a flicker of anything in her glassy eyes.
He wonders if even as he has gotten everything he has ever wanted, he lost the one thing he needed.
It paralyzes him. For the first time in an ageless eternity, he feels something: Panic.
Even his endless power cannot bring her back. His beloved is dead, and he has killed her. Upon him sits a pretty corpse, empty and devoid of all that made her her. A doll with her face. A doll with barely even that.
Her laugh, her smile. Her passion and desire and love. The tenderness inside of her and the warmth she once held. Everything that pulled him from his shell and showed him how to love once more. He bloomed in her light– and then snuffed it out entirely.
How long has it been? How long has she been gone?
Though she may be undying, he realizes with horror akin to a dawning sun that she is gone– and has been for some time.
“You seem stressed, my Lord? How can I make you happy again?”
Second part of the story HERE
#morgana and friends#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#literally whatever you want it to be#very bad implications here do not read if sensitive#bad mean astarion#sort of#lots of mistakes here fellas#i TOLD yall i was having a tough time writing#this needed more time and work but man I just CANNOT focus#you get the gist right#this needed more detail and to be longer but i was struggling here#god i need medicine or something#one down about 399 more to go lmao
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Seven: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]
Info: Anakin is perfect boyfriend material. He’s also insane, but that’s okay. He’s thinkin’ some thoughts [diary entries from Ani AND you] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+
Diary Entry: July 14th
You’d better be so fucking glad that I’m not insane.
I offered you my weapon and you didn’t take it. You have zero self preservation skills, your fight or flight response is so low that it concerns me. You’re worse than a opossum, instead of playing dead you play pretend that it’s normal to have a home intruder with a knife in your bedroom.
You didn’t even attempt to get up and run, not that you could’ve. You wouldn’t have made it more than two steps without collapsing. You could hardly speak, slurring your words like a drunken fool.
You didn’t even call anyone after I left. Didn’t text anyone. Didn’t get out of bed until 1:00pm this morning. If I didn’t have the audio on full blast all night I would’ve busted back in and made sure you were still breathing.
Honestly I’m alittle jealous.
Stupid I know, to be jealous of myself. But you didn’t know it was me. Yet you still let me sit there, you let me talk to you, you let me scratch your head like a good little girl.
Did you really believe it was all a dream?
Do you remember it today?
Can you feel my hands on your skin? Can you taste my cum on your lips?
Did you know it was me?
Date
July 14th
You woke up groggy, way, way past the normal time your internal alarm clock jolts you awake. Disoriented wouldn’t even begin to describe how you felt right now. This was a feeling like nothing you’d ever experienced before.
Unlike last night when your mind was refusing to kick off the blanket of sleep while your body could scarcely react… now your mind was wide awake and running rapidly while your body was aching and not properly calibrated.
You’d been so utterly relaxed during your deep sleep that your muscles got the rest they’d been searching so desperately for your entire life. You felt loose, rested and smooth while also feeling as though you’d been stomped to a pulp by a stampede of angry cattle.
Your head felt swimmy, your lungs felt like they’d been working too hard. Your eyes still couldn’t fully focus either, so it was no surprise that you stumbled clumsily to the kitchen and spilled coffee grounds all over the counter.
You rested your forehead against your folded arms on the counter top, needed a moment to rest your eyes from the harsh lighting. The pounding in your head traveled from one side to the other, keeping a continuous presence behind your sensitive eyes. The moment of silence, well, it gave you time to think.
You had wanted so badly to believe last night was nothing but a weird ass dream, it wouldn’t have been the first time.
But your hopes were squashed when you woke up and saw your diary on the edge of your bed. Even the air felt disturbed, like your room itself was letting you know that it wasn’t all in your head.
He had said he wouldn’t hurt you and you believed him.
He didn’t hurt you.
But if not… why drug you? Was he planning on it and you’d interrupted his plans? Though being a kind, caring, crazy person he backed off instead of forcing you to endure whatever he decided for you while you were awake?
Or had you caught him after the deed had been done?
That ache. That horrible longing in your gut that just refused to go away… was gone. Not dulled, not in hibernation. You felt satisfied and sated.
He said he didn’t hurt you… maybe he just...
You shoved your thoughts into a corner and taped the box shut. That was absolutely sick, you cannot think that way. You can’t. What the hell is wrong with you? You shouldn’t be okay with that.
You should cry. You should scream and wail and cry and throw up.
But how could you be disgusted by a man that had taken away the yearning that had been so deeply rooted within you for so long? Maybe… maybe he didn’t even touch you like that.
Maybe whatever drug he’d given you had somehow flipped the reset switch.
“Sure.” You whispered to yourself, leaning against the countertop. “Sure, that’s all it is. Just that.”
“I have no reason to doubt him. If he wanted to hurt me he would’ve done it. I caught him, if he was truly a terrible person he probably would’ve killed me.” You reasoned with yourself.
“He just came to say hello.” You put your face in your hands, breathing deeply. “Yep. Yep. Yep. That’s all.”
You chose to ignore that fact that your panties were glued to your cunt that morning.
Conveniently over looked the obvious hickey on your left breast.
Pretended not to notice the taste of something salty in the corner of your mouth.
That’s all in your head. He didn’t do that, you didn’t feel sore. You would feel that wouldn’t you? You would’ve woken up right?
‘Right. I would’ve felt it. I would’ve woken up. So it was a dream. Yes.’ You nodded resolutely in agreement with your inner voices.
Some guy dressed as Ghostface was not in your bedroom.
You got out your diary to write about your night at the bar and how wonderful it was, and you fell asleep before you could put your pen to the paper.
Someone slipped something in your drink and it made you sleep very soundly. Someone who didn’t get the chance to take advantage because your two best friends walked you home.
Your subconscious knew that’s what happened and it made all that other stuff up. It’s time to reevaluate your bookshelf. No more dark romance. It’s turned your brain to mush.
Anakin. You should go ask Anakin to review the footage from the bar security cameras. Put your mind at ease that no one had even attempted to follow you home. Maybe you’ll see that no one even drugged you in the first place and you just have one hell of a hangover and an overactive imagination.
First things first though, scoop up those spilled coffee grounds and dump them into the filter. The water gets hot enough, it’ll be fine.
Absentmindedly grabbing your new hello kitty mug, you failed to notice the slip of paper inside until you almost poured creamer over it.
You quickly snatched it up and unfolded it.
‘Sleep well?’
——————————————————————————
“Anakin!” You banged on his front door and he answered relatively quickly.
He appeared in a pair of flannel checkered pajama pants and a short sleeved white shirt, socked feet and messy hair.
“I’m not picking my nose I swear, I’m changing my nose ring.” He grinned, one finger in his left nostril while he screwed on the ball to a new black steel ring, replacing the previous plain stainless steel one.
“M’sorry I didn’t mean to-“
“No worries baby, what’s up?” He asked, running a hand through his hair before shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Can you do me a favor please?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“Of course, what’d you need princess?” He asked, his face full of sympathy. “Wanna come in? We can chat.”
He didn’t wait for you to answer, he simply stepped aside and held the door open, lifting that arm slightly so he could usher you underneath his arm and into his apartment.
“Need a drink or anything?” He asked, thumbing toward the fridge.
When you shook your head he gently grasped one of your elbows and brought you to the couch, he kneeled on one knee and held both your hands with his. He looked up at you like he was studying the most delicate piece of artwork on earth.
“What’s going on doll?” He whispered, tucking a hair behind your ear, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Your eyes flashed at his lips quickly, and widened slightly, but you shook your head.
‘If only you knew.’ You thought, your inner voice giving a mirthless laugh.
“N-no.” You sighed. “Is there anyway you can convince your boss to let me look through the security footage from the bar last night?”
“Yeah sure, I doubt he’d care.” Anakin shrugged. “Why? Did you lose something?”
“Um no.” You said, contemplating on telling him your story, no matter how stupid it might make you look.
“You can tell me anything sweetheart.” Anakin cooed.
“It’s just… I think maybe someone slipped something in my drink last night.”
“You think someone drugged you?” He repeated, his hands tightening around yours.
“Well I don’t know for sure!” You said quickly. “I just woke up feeling weird and dizzy… n’ well I don’t know it doesn’t matter.”
“I’ll make sure we get that footage okay?” He promised, pulling you into his chest and smoothing your hair down your back.
You didn’t speak, you just let him pet you for a moment. The thought of telling him what had actually happened scared you. It made your stomach flip, twist into knots and yank your guts so tightly that you thought you’d never be able to eat again.
He’d think you’re nuts. He’d think you’re a liar. He’d think you wrote that note yourself. He… what would he do? If he believed you? Would he call the cops? Get angry at you for not doing it yourself?
You were vaguely aware of Anakin speaking to you and once he realized you weren’t comprehending a single word, he stopped. He leaned back to look at your face where it rested against his chest.
“Babydoll?” He said worriedly, waving his hand in front of your face to get your attention. “What’s got you all tore up?” He asked in a whisper.
You shook your head, hoping to scramble your thoughts back into order.
“It’s nothing, I just…” You breathed deeply, realizing only now that you’d started to cry.
The safety you felt with Anakin had allowed you to feel these confused feelings in a closed and controlled environment. You chided yourself for thinking he’d react offensively, you may as well just tell him. At least part of it… right?
“Hey, princess.” He said, his voice tinged with a worried kind of uncertainty. “You’re kinda scaring me, I need you to talk to me baby.” He whispered softly.
“I think someone broke into my house last night.” You blurred out suddenly, your words surprising yourself. The moment they left your lips the words caused you to shudder, eyes watering, staring at Anakin like a poor hopeless little kitten on an ASPCA commercial.
“What do you mean someone broke into your house?” He asked sternly, his hands firm on your shoulders.
“I don’t know. Maybe I imagined it.” You said embarrassedly.
“I checked all over the apartment this morning and can’t seem to find out how they got in. I just remember someone being there.” You added, biting your lip as you picked at the skin on your fingers.
“Do you want me to go look?” He asked softly. “You can stay right here, I’ll go look if you want.”
“Really?” You sniffled. “Will you?”
“Of course.” He soothed, cupping your face with both hands and wiping the remnants of your tears away. “You stay put. I’ll be right back.”
Anakin grabbed a thick Sherpa blanket…
Sherpa blanket? He has a Sherpa blanket? Hot. A man with good taste in throw blankets is a man worth pursuing.
He covered you up and patted your head, his fingers stalling momentarily as he gave you a wide-eyed, quizzical look as though he might ask you something or maybe had an odd thought. But, you could see him internally shaking whatever it was that crossed his mind away.
“I’ll be back in a sec okay?” He said, walking to his front door and shutting it with a click behind him.
Anakin walked into your apartment and idly stood in the kitchen, thinking to himself and wondering just how much you remembered. Boogie purred and looped around at his feet so he scooped her up and held her like a baby while pacing the room.
“What should I do? Hmm?” He asked, scratching beneath her chin.
“You have great advice usually.” He muttered. “C’mon… I- fuck.” He groaned.
“I can’t just ask her can I?” He huffed. “No, I can’t.”
“I’ll just… offer to put up some cameras,” he chuckled to himself. “Easy. It’ll make her feel better huh?”
“Thanks… good kitty.” He said giving her a peck on the head before sitting her on the kitchen counter and walking back to his apartment.
He popped his head around the corner to see you still sitting exactly where he left you.
“Good news is: there isn’t anyone there now.” He said with a sympathetic smile. “I can’t find any evidence of a break-in…”
“I know!” You said, exasperatedly throwing your hands up.
“Hush.” He said sternly. “Just because I didn’t find anything, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen okay?”
He doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t believe that your space had been invaded, that your sanctuary had been tainted. But, he believes that you believe it was. And that’s enough of a reason for him to play along for your peace of mind. Within reason of course. He’s not confirming your fears, he’s leaving it open ended but putting up a gate to keep it in check. He’s protecting you from yourself and your own anxiety.
Too bad he’s wrong. Although it’s real sweet that he’s trying.
“Okay.” You blushed at his change in tone, like he was speaking to a child having a tantrum.
You didn’t fully understand why, but every time he did that, it made your stomach flip- in a good way. It was… strangely comforting? Maybe? Or maybe it was just hot, either way you weren’t complaining in the slightest.
“Do you want me to set up a security system for you? Some cameras or?” He offered, sitting next to you and opening his arms which you quickly leaned into.
“Cameras?” You echoed, why hadn’t you thought to put those in when you moved in? You’re a girl, living alone, in a less-safe area of town.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Would that make you feel better?”
“I don’t know… maybe just those window and door alarms?” You suggested. “You know the ones that make that horrible screeching sound when they’re armed and someone tries to open the door?”
“Yes.” He chuckled. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.”
“I had one on the back garden gate at my moms house.” He said, smoothing out your hair.
“Really? Why?” You asked.
“Cause she thought I was sneaking out.” He chuckled.
“Were you?”
“Yes.” He laughed. “I just wanted to go smoke with my friend who lived in the same subdivision as us. Apparently she’d been hearing the gate open and shut.”
“She was never one for confrontation, so I guess scaring the shit out of me was her way of telling me to stop sneaking out to smoke pot.” He smirked. “I screamed, like a real actual scream. Sounded like a little girl.”
“Oh poor you.” You laughed, looking up at him as you giggled. “My parents never found out I snuck out.” You said teasingly.
“Oh really? What were your methods?” He snorted.
“Well, we didn’t have a fence first of all.” You said. “Second, I was on the ground floor and my bedroom window didn’t have a screen in it.”
“Mmm.” He nodded, his chest rising and falling methodically. “Smart.”
“Yep.” You smiled. “So how bad did you get in trouble?”
“Trouble? None.” He chuckled, leaning back to look at you. “I was momma’s pride and joy, I could do no wrong. She just gave me a warning, unspoken. But still very, very loud.”
“Oh so what you’re saying is she let you get away with it huh?” You laughed.
“Pretty much.” He smiled, pausing for a moment. “So is that what you want then?”
“Yeah… I think I’d rather have those. Maybe it’ll scare ‘em off and make ‘em scream like a little bitch, like you.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“Oh baby, you wound me.” He sighed. “Guess you’ll have to find someone else to install them for you, huh?”
“What?” You sat up and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
“What?” He said mockingly. “You really want a little bitch installing your security system? My little girly hands just won’t get the job done.” He teased.
Little girly hands? Little girly hands?
Those hands were anything but little, everything masculine. Strong and firm. Long fingers that would lace perfectly in yours, those same fingers would feel at home between your…
“Fine, I take it back.” You said quickly, pulling yourself from your dirty thoughts. You couldn’t seriously be drooling over those veined hands while discussing your potential house invasion.
“Good girl.” He grinned. “I’ll order them for you okay?” He said, brushing his knuckle against your cheek.
“Thank you.” You sighed in relief, ignoring the shiver his touch sent through you.
“No problem princess.” He said softly.
Diary Entry: July 14th
God I feel so… conflicted.
I never feel conflicted when it comes to you. It’s so strange, this feeing. It’s like I’m being pulled in two directions.
I love you. So much baby.
I love the way you felt in my arms today. I loved the way you let me hold you, comfort you. We have such a good connection. Such a normal, real, blossoming relationship.
But I’ve went and made things complicated haven’t I?
I should’ve waited. I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve sucked it up and just watched through the cameras and kept my hands to myself. I have patience, I should’ve used it.
It’s just… you’re so tempting.
You love it. Whether you know it or not, I know it. I see it, hear it, taste it. You need me. Conscious and consenting or unconscious and oblivious. Either way, you need me.
So it’s really not my fault. I might’ve thrown the snowball that’s triggered the avalanche, but you’re not running from it. You’re letting it drag you under and doing it with a blush and blissful smile.
Ghostface has thrown an unexpected but possibly very interesting wrench in my plans. You reacted so strangely. I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s eating me alive inside, the way you just… accepted it. It’s amazing.
Truly, it’s astonishing. This side of yourself that you’ve kept locked away and hidden from view, maybe even hidden from yourself until now. Do you have a Pit too? Did that surprising reaction crawl out of the depths of your enigmatic mind?
It’s a mystery to me. One I will never crack, it drives me nuts. Knowing that there’s a truly unsolvable puzzle in front of me, I can pick and pick and pick, but I’ll never find all the pieces. You’re too smart, too clever, too perfect. Why would your mind maze be any different?
What have you got hidden in there? In that one place I can’t break into? The one part of yourself you can hide from me?
I’ve gotten a taste, a small one. Lightly salted, hardly seasoned thoughts sprawled on the pages of your diary. No one, not even me, writes everything down. There are things that will stay locked away in my mind, never to be spoken or written. I’m sure you have those things too. Probably not anywhere near as… depraved as mine. But strange and unusual enough that you’d never willingly allow anyone to learn.
As much as I hate that I can’t read your mind, I love it too. That hidden side of yourself that is only for you. It’s something I’m not sure that you would ever show me, not even when you’ve finally fallen in love with me. Not even when we’re too old to care about anything but our happiness… I don’t think you’d share it then either.
That’s a shame. It really is.
But you might share that side of yourself with Ghostface.
I know you.
I know you well enough to realize that the fawn who timidly, but let their curiosity guide them to speak with Ghostface is not the same doe that blinks up at Anakin with adoration.
You. Are. So. Much. Like. Me.
Anakin looks at you with a sense of love, pure and unfiltered. He wants the best for you because he cares so deeply. He wants to keep you safe and warm and forever happy. Because that’s his duty as a loving and caring partner. Your protector and provider.
Ghostface looks at you with love yes, but also obsession and deeply rooted perversion. An infatuation so strong that he’d shed gallons of blood just to get to you. He wants the best for you, in his own way. He wants to keep you safe while giving you the danger he knows that you crave. He wants to keep you warm by feeding the flame of your own twisted little fantasies. The ones so dark you won’t even write them in your diary. He wants to keep you forever happy too, just not in the traditional sense.
And if he gets to have his own fun along the way… well, we both know I’m a fan of killing two birds with one stone. Of course Ghostface would have some mutually beneficial, selfishly planned ideas too, right? He’s unafraid to be what Anakin tries to keep hidden.
Maybe we can have both? Separately… at least for a little while.
You can have us both.
We can have the fawn and doe.
That could be fun. I think I’d like that. You’re just perfect, you’re so perfect. I never would’ve imagined I would be lucky enough to find someone who was as fucked in the head as me. The theory is of course untested, but I have a feeling that I’m right. I think you’ll love Ghostface just as much as you love Anakin.
Because I love the fawn just as much as I love the doe.
The doe that blinks up at me like it’s been caught in the high beams of a truck. The doe that is clever enough to carry on a good banter with me. Sweet and kind and gentle. That’s the recipe for the perfect little deer, they’re such a gentle animal. Soft.
Just like you. They bed down in the softest grass, nest themselves up in a way that keeps them hidden and safe. You do the same, all those stuffed animals and the ridiculously thick and fluffy comforter you sleep under.
They’re smart. They can be sneaky and quiet if they need to be. They have hard and dangerous hooves if they truly need to use them. So do you, but you’ve proven that just like a doe, you’d rather return to the safety of your nest instead of bucking up to kick your problems square in the chest.
Even though they’re smart enough to know they’re prey, they’re too sweet, too pure to believe anyone could have bad intentions. That’s why the bucks have antlers. Sharp and precise, ready to clash into whatever threatens his doe, head first.
Sound familiar?
Then there’s the fawn. The you I’ve only just begun to know. Tiny, meek, fragile. A bleat so small and unsure that it’s comical, like the way you spoke to Ghostface.
They cower, hide. Walk on unsteady legs that cause them to flounder when they’re nervous. They get overconfident; leaping and running on those lanky limbs and regretting it when they fall to their knees, legs folded beneath them and calling out for their protector.
They have those innocent doe eyes all the time, not just when caught off guard. Like the you that Ghostface met. So curious and wrongfully trusting. They don’t realize danger until it’s too late, they’re just exploring the world around them and suddenly they’re gone.
That’s why it’s important that you stay within arms reach of me. That’s why I watch you so closely. That’s why you need me.
They’re so easily taken advantage of; the purity, the innocence, it’s a recipe for disaster if it’s left to develop on its own. But when it’s nurtured? Well cared for? Allowed to roam within reason? In the safety of the net it’s protector has spread out for them?
Well, they’ll blossom. Just like you. You’re so eager to learn and soak up all the knowledge you’ve been so curious about, but too afraid to seek out on your own.
Ghostface can help with that. He’ll keep you safe while giving you the room to explore. He’ll allow you to think that you’re independently experiencing a new world, even though he’s the one who’s crafting it for you.
What a surprise it’ll be when we tell you we’re the same guy. It’ll be your dream come true huh? Sweet and tender boyfriend material, bring home to momma, respectful and gentle Anakin. With a side of… well controlled obsession motivated lunacy.
See? I’m self aware. Crazy people don’t know they’re crazy. I’m not a psycho, I’m. Not. That. Kind. Of. Guy.
But Ghostface is.
I love you. You love me. We can just merge the four of us together. Fours a crowd but twos a party or some shit like that.
Date
July 19th
Anakin waltzed into your apartment and locked the door behind him. In his break and enter self imposed uniform. No mask though, he just had it tucked under his arm just incase. He liked to be prepared, especially after you’d surprised him by waking up when he’d so carefully planned for you to do the opposite.
He scooped up Boogie for company, went to your bedroom and locked the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes and climbed into your bed, staying standing to adjust the camera above your bed. He needed to uncover that lens. No reason to suffer with just the audio anymore, not when he had a perfectly good excuse that you were semi aware of now.
With task one complete he propped up his phone against one of your many stuffies to have the background noise of one of the shows he’s finally getting around to watching: Narcos. He can understand the hype around it when it was first released now and kind of wishes he’d sucked it up and jumped on the bandwagon to watch it with everyone else in the world back then.
With his work area set up he reached under your mattress with one long arm and pulled out your diary. He’d been impatiently waiting for you to formulate some questions and he’d hear you speaking to yourself about it the night before.
So he cracked open the little pink book and pulled out the red ink pen he’d brought along.
It just wouldn’t be as fun to use one of your cutesy little gel pens or just a plain old black one. But it would be fun to add just a dash more intimidation into the scenario.
It’s a proven fact that red is an uneasy color for humans. It’s one of those things that never fully went away when people developed past the primitive brain. Most people don’t even realize it, but studies show that red ink really does affect the brain. It’s very subtle but it’s still there. The mind is a strange place.
Red bad, blood red, scary.
That’s why all good horror movies have the killers write in red ink… or just straight up blood. It’s unsettling.
Anakin leaned back and got comfortable, flipping through the pages to read the few entries that he hadn’t yet, before moving on to the main course, a page titled: Answer Me
——————————————————————————
Your Diary Entry: Answer Me
Do I know you? If I don’t then who are you?
We’ve met.
Nice try, you’re not getting that out of me yet. Bold of you to ask though, I like that.
Just call me Ghost.
I’m sure that I know you, why else would you hide your voice?
Clever girl.
What do you look like?
You saw me. I didn’t realize you needed glasses.
Do appearances mean that much to you? Well, here’s what I look like under the mask:
Funny, huh?
Why me?
I don’t have enough room in this book to answer this question sweetheart.
So I’ll shorten it: you’re perfect, precious… and I love you because of it.
How did we meet?
You’re really confident that you’ve met me. It would’ve been embarrassing if you were wrong.
:)
I saw you, you saw me. That’s how most people meet isn’t it?
Will you come back?
I’d have to be dead to be kept from you, even then you’d never be without me.
The afterlife is just a step behind the living.
It’d be fun to try out that poltergeist stuff anyway, don’t you think?
How did you get in? I checked and had a friend check… no sign of forced entry.
I know. I saw you both.
Not too long ago, you left your window unlocked. My main goal is to keep you safe and happy, you can’t be safe with an open window easily accessible by a fire escape. So I climbed in and closed it for you.
Have you looked for your spare key lately? I know where it is. It’s in my pocket. On my keychain.
How long have you been watching me?
I like the way you asked this. Not ‘how long have you been doing this’, not ‘how many times have you broken in’.
I’ve been watching you for quite a while now. Long enough that you should’ve definitely noticed by now. Just another reason you need me to protect you. You’ve been completely oblivious.
Go to the next page for the rest of this. I have more to say; you need a lecture.
Hello again, let’s continue shall we?
You’re utterly hopeless in the way of self awareness and keeping watch of your surroundings.
I walk you to and from work nearly everyday.
I sat on your fire escape every night for weeks, to watch you fall asleep on the couch, watching your little shows.
I’ve been to your sisters house, I’ve been to the library to see who is in your book club, I’ve even been to the gym with you.
You never noticed. That’s… forgivable. I’ve been very good at keeping myself hidden, ie. all the times I laid on top of the roof next door to watch you sleep through your bedroom window. But that was before I started visiting your home.
(Have you noticed that those curtains stay closed now? I always shut them for you because you’re forgetful.)
But you know what isn’t forgivable? Everything I’ve done inside your home that you’ve never noticed.
Sweetheart, I love you. I really do. But god you’d probably die without someone around to hold your hand. Haven’t you noticed that certain things seem to be growing into less of a chore and more of a manageable task?
I know that you have, but you thought it was all you, all on your own.
I’ve been making sure your favorite mugs are washed. I’ve been vacuuming because you never do it enough. I’ve been taking out the bathroom trash on the off occasion because I know you hate doing it.
I replace things for you. This one really gives me a giggle.
You’ve been using the same bottle of Persil laundry detergent for almost two months. Ever wondered why it stays half full? No?
Your favorite cereal never runs out either.
You’re adorable, so clueless.
It’s all helpful things sweetheart. No worries, I’m not just some weirdo creep. I do actually care about you and your well-being too. I love you.
You haven’t missed a single birth-control pill since I’ve been setting it out for you.
You’ve been sleeping so much better, in your own bed where you should be, because of that yummy SleepyTime tea. It’s nice to wake up feeling rested isn’t it?
I did my research, remember when you felt real down a while back? That’s when I started setting out your medicine and giving you that tea. I read that it was probably a hormone imbalance because you’re too forgetful to take your pill consistently.
I like to help, I want to help. It makes life easier for you and that’s what’s most important. That’s what a man should do, take care of the one he loves, keep her happy, safe and loved. I’m dedicated to you. I want you to know that.
Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked and you have more questions to be answered my curious girl.
If you didn’t plan on hurting me, why did you drug me, why did you bring a knife?
Valid question.
Am I being watched ALL the time?
No, I’m not a psycho. You deserve privacy, I’ve never peeked in on you in the bathroom in any capacity. I don’t always watch you in your bedroom. But I do listen. I like to hear you snore, it’s like ASMR.
I’ve never accidentally seen you naked if that what you’re asking. It’s always on purpose.
Why haven’t you made yourself known? Why no weird calls or notes or anything? Isn’t that a thing stalkers do?
No. It’s not. At least not for me.
I don’t want to freak you out. Leaving weird calls and notes would scare you. That’s the last thing I want.
I’ll start, let you get the full experience lol.
(Not creepy shit though I promise.)
What do you get out of watching me sleep? Have you touched me?
You’re beautiful, peaceful, angelic. It’s just nice to be in your presence. It’s calming in a way. Like how grandmas knit to wind down in the afternoon. Kinda like that I guess.
Maybe.
Are there cameras here?
Yes. But not everywhere, like I said, you deserve privacy.
They’re here for security reasons, but also because it sucks to sit in the rain on a fire escape. My ass would get frozen to the metal grate when it was cold.
I don’t use them for what you think though.
Will you ever tell me who you are?
Would you be able to cope with knowing my identity? I mean, there’s a reason I wear the gloves and mask, change my voice. Like I said, you know me in the real world. I won’t ever show you my face if it means losing you there.
I’d stop coming here like this though. If you wanted. But I don’t think you do. Do you?
You’ve obviously read my diary. Is that why you chose Ghostface?
What do you think? :)
There. Questions answered.
Don’t expect me in person for a bit, you should take some time to process. I know it’s a lot.
I’ll still be there for you though, I wouldn’t leave you completely. Never.
I have a feeling you won’t tell anyone. But I do of course have to ask: please, don’t tell anyone okay? It’d make me sad :(
Not even Lukey or Anakin okay?
I’ll warn you before I make an appearance next time.
Date
July 28th
The bell above the door at the Bluebird chimed and your head perk up immediately. There he was, right on time.
Anakin had been much, much closer to you since your meeting with Ghost. You still hadn’t told him. Probably never would.
Who would believe something so insane anyway? Anakin had handled the whole ‘home intruder and I’ve been drugged’ situation extremely well. He was very supportive, your certain that if you did ever share the information on Ghost with him, he would do his best to validate you, but he’d definitely make you go to therapy.
“My princess.” He grinned, walking up to the counter and sitting on a barstool, both hands palm up on the countertop for you to place yours in.
“Hey Ani.” You smiled softly, you loved this.
You loved what this had bloomed into. You never thought you’d fall for a traditional guy, but here you are, with Anakin.
“Whatcha got left? Almost done?” He queried, rubbing the backs of your hands with his thumbs while he gazed at you with those dreamy blue eyes.
“I’ll be ready to leave as soon as Sara clocks in.” You peered back into the kitchen, hoping to see her walk in the back door any moment.
“Good, we’ve got places to be.” Anakin teased.
“Do I have to go in my work clothes?” You whined. “I smell like french fries!”
“Mmm my favorite perfume of yours.” He snickered. “No, you don’t baby. I brought you a change of clothes. Dress or pants?”
“Oh? You brought options?” You asked in surprise.
“Of course I brought options. I’m not a mind reader.” He smirked.
“No, but you might as well be.” You laughed.
“Mmhmm.” He looked down at your hands and laced his fingers with yours. “Pants?”
“Yes please.” You nodded with a laugh. “See? Mind reader.”
“I wish.” He rolled his eyes. “Just know my girl well that’s all.” He smiled, one hand leaving yours to cup your cheek.
“Sara’s here.” He nodded to the back door as it was opening.
“Oh good!” You said, patting his hand on your cheek and spinning around to clock out.
Once Anakin had led you out to his car he opened the back passenger door and handed you one of your small backpacks with clothes in it.
“Change inside?” He asked, nodding toward the restaurant.
“Ew no.” You scoffed. “I’ll just change in the backseat.” You shrugged.
“Sure thing baby.” He laughed, gesturing for you to get in.
He stood outside with his back resting against the side of the car, ever respectful of you and your boundaries. Soon enough you knocked on the window and he moved out of the way to open the door for you and help you into the front of the car.
“Lookin’ good princess.” He let out a low whistle that had you blushing.
“Thanks.” You squeaked, despite being so comfortable with him, you couldn’t help but be bashful sometimes.
He was never not confident in the things he said to you. If he wanted to tell you something, he did. With his full chest.
Tonight was your first real, official date. Anakin had planned it all for you, you weren’t privy to his choices but you assumed it would be casual considering the clothes he’d offered you. He’d said ‘men should plan the dates and their girls should just enjoy them’.
Fuck feminism. Anakin made you forget you had the right to vote, he made you forget what it was like to do things on your own, he made you forget the horrors of being a girl left alone.
With him around you never had to lift a finger.
So it was no surprise that when you arrived at the restaurant he walked around, opened your door and offered you his arm. Not unexpected that he would order your food for you, somehow he always knew what you wanted, you didn’t even bother picking up the menu anymore.
Not a shock at all that when he got you home you didn’t have to do anything but lay back and be loved.
Part Eight
Just realized that probably not everyone knows what a butterfly knife is, so here’s a gif (I’ll put one in the previous post too) like you’re telling me this isn’t Anakin’s weapon of choice??? Show off.
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ewan in the saltburn trailer is j sooo giving private school filthy rich aemond i love it
AND YES HE NEEDS HIS POC GF
I have been feeling…. less than inspired lately about hotd tbh but hopefully this will spark something. I know no one asked for this lol. This was inspired by Beyoncé’s Upgrade U. Honestly, I don't think Aemond would be much of a loser in a modern setting. He would be far too elusive and people would find him interesting simply based on that. But I am combining/changing some lore here so he is a #loser in this like I am assuming Ewan's character is Saltburn is.
Upgrade You
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x rich!reader (wc: 2k)
Summary: You have always enjoyed having a project to build or fix up and Aemond Targaryen is no different
You flick a spoolie brush over your brows as you finished up your makeup. The lights from your vanity mirror illuminating you as you put the last touches on your face.
"I don't get it," Melanie sighed as she hugged one of your pillows to her chest. She sat crossed legged on your California king bed. "You're like the smartest person I know. Why do you need to be tutored?"
"Everyone can improve themselves, no matter what someone's specialty may be. Remember that."
Melanie nodded enthusiastically. Sweet girl, you think. A little daft at times but nothing some time under your guidance cannot fix.
She tilts her head curiously. "You are pretty dressed up for a library meeting too."
"Another lesson," you fluff your curls then turn from the mirror to her. "Do not let anyone tell you that you are overdressed. Does the library have a dress code?"
Melanie shakes her head slowly.
"So, who is going to tell me to change?"
"... No one?"
"Exactly."
Melanie chews on her lip in thought as if she is taking mental notes in her head. Though she is not wrong you are quite dressed up just to be studying. But your advice was also not wrong; any moment to be noticed should be taken and made the most of. If are to come into contact with any of your peers, why not make the best impression possible. You also do not have in it in you to tell your new pupil about the real reason as to why you were making this little trip. Best move through life with your cards close to your chest as your mother tells you. You can only imagine how wide Melanie's hazel eyes would get if you told her what you had up your sleeve.
Much like how you help the girls around you cultivate their futures, you must look out for your own as well. Your phone dings, and you smile when you check the notification.
Aemond Targaryen.
Archaic, some would say. Sending the feminist movement back 50 years, many could argue. Being realistic is more how you would put it. You have money, sure. Your parents have afforded you all the opportunities they wanted you to have, and for that you are grateful. But you are not naive; this is still very much a man's world. No matter how much money you have, there will be people who will look at you and hate you for having the gall to want more. For having ideas and wanting to express them. For looking the way, you do - for using the way you look against them.
You may not be able to have a seat at the table... but you can have someone build another for you.
Your family may have resources and money. But they do not have 'my father can use company family buy his way into politics; my mom has ancestry that traces back to French royalty' reach.
Luckily for you, there is someone who does have that access.
A little rough around the edges, but nothing some TLC cannot fix. It was one of your best traits: finding the diamonds in the rough and polishing them off so they shine brighter than before.
You go over to your closet and open the double doors. As your eyes search over the different handbags, you call out back to Melanie.
"Watercolor Dior saddle or creme Bottega Jodie?"
"Dior," she calls back.
You check yourself in the mirror before existing the closet.
"Well," you twirl for Melanie. You run hand over your midi turtleneck dress. You knee length boots clanked around as you moved in a circle.
"Perfect," she beams.
She sees you out to your car. With the window rolled down, she waves you off like a mother seeing their child off for kindergarten.
"Happy studying!"
Sweet and simple, just how you like em.
———
You always thought the best thing about Oxford was how it looked in the fall. The leaves begun to change, sprite green to a blend of red, orange, purple, and brown. Made the most picturesque background. But it seemed like how gently the leaves fell from the trees was the only thing that was coming easily.
Maybe it was naivety on your part, but you thought when you showed up in four-inch patent leather Aquazzura heels and literally no books, Aemond would have got the hint. And yet, here you were talking about the components of stockholder’s equity, as if you cared.
"So," you interrupt him mid rant. "Any fun plans for Winter break? I know it is a while away, but everyone is already taking about what they are doing."
He wrinkles his nose, his glasses being pushes up in the process. "Probably just dinner with the family."
Right. The compound. At least that is what the Targaryen main home looks like. You of course needed to your research.
"Well, there is this crazy Christmas that happens before everyone leaves," you shuffle closer to him, and you hope he gets a whiff of your perfume. "Maybe we can go together?"
Aemond snorts and looks down bit sheepishly. "Highly doubt, I am invited."
You fight the urge to sigh wistfully. Cute, smart, wealthy as fuck... and apparently awfully insecure. Everyone throwing the party should be falling at their knees to have him around. But you have since understood during your time at Oxford that many students here do not understand the opportunities in front of them.
If Aemond had any real confidence, he'd say fuck it because he could buy everyone going if he wanted to. They ignore him because he allows them to. And then you realize he is one of those people; the delusional 'I want to get by on my merit not my name' kind of people.
Oh sweet, silly boy.
"That doesn't matter," you wave him off. "Besides, if anyone says anything, you can just say you're with me. Consider it a thank you for doing this for me."
You let your hand slip on his thigh and squeeze slightly.
"Better yet, let's call it a date."
Rhaenyra would think for the amount of money her family has; they would be able to afford stronger liquor. But she has a feeling that it has nothing to do with money, and more about the 'champagne only' rule Alicent liked.
The expansive backyard was decorated impeccably, as it always is for the annual holiday party that they throw. Twinkly lights in the trees, red and green everywhere, and even a frankly nouveau riche ice sculpture. The affair was black tie, and Rhaenyra could feel the eyes of some guess when she showed up in a red fitted suit. Taking small sips from her glass, she looks around the area. She swears the more years go on, the less she recognizes who is invited to things like this.
"Don't tell me step-mommy has put you in timeout."
She rolls her eyes when she hears a familiar voice. Daemon comes to stand next to her, with a small glass in his hand.
"No, you fucker," Rhaenyra then frowns. "Where did you get the scotch?"
"Why do you think I am in timeout?"
Her uncle always found a way around the rules. Rhaenyra blows air out of her cheeks in annoyance. She looks down at her watch; another rule is that they were required to stay at 2 hours. Only 45 minutes has passed since she arrived.
"Heard you are going to the company retreat this year," Daemon downs the rest of the drink and winces at the burning.
"Someone has to represent the family with dad," she shrugs, a small amount of smugness seeping into her tone. "He asked me to go."
"Hmmm," Daemon smirks at her smugness. "You and Aemond."
Rhaenyra blinks confused. "What?"
"Yup," he leans against the wall. "I suppose Viserys found a new muse."
Rhaenyra snorts at his words but then licks her lips nervously. It sounds cruel to think, but it was never something she ever really worried about - her father preferring her siblings over her. At least not something she worried about in her adulthood. Sure, as a girl, newly off the passing of her mother, seeing her father marry a woman only six years her senior rattled her. Aegon being born shortly after only made things more tense. But, and to his own detriment really, Viserys had made sure she came first.
"I did not know Aemond had an interest in the company in the first place."
"He didn't," Daemon's mouth pinches a little. "Not until... recently."
Rhaenyra follows her uncle's gaze out to where Aemond was standing. He always managed to look more grow up than his sibling, more than Helaena and Aegon. A mimicry that Rhaenyra thinks he picked up from his mother, but something seemed different now.
New haircut, no glasses, new suit. Armani? No, Tom Ford. With a Cartier tie clip and sparking cuff links to match. He is surrounded by some of the lawyers that work at the company.
"Looks like university has done him well," Rhaenyra tries to sound as even keeled as possible. "Good for him."
"No," Daemon sounds bored with her strained pleasantries. "That is what pussy does someone who has never got any before."
Rhaenyra blanches. The last thing she wants to think about is her younger brother having sex. She sets her champagne down in disgust.
"Don't be gross."
Daemon huffs before directing his attention towards the other side of the courtyard. His eyes zero in on Alicent, who tosses her auburn hair over her shoulder as she laughs with a young woman. A pretty young woman.
"Only met this semester and managed to get a holiday party invite, and a seat next to mother dearest. She must some charmer."
"You know," Rhaenyra starts. "Not every woman that is around this family is some sort of ruthless social climber."
"Of course, not every woman. Only the smart ones."
She sighs. That was not just pointed at the girl, but at Alicent too. Even though Alicent grew up with an even cushier life than they did. A type of old money that even the Targaryens had to give credence to. Strangely enough, Daemon seemed to take Viserys remarrying worse than Rhaenyra did. Even Rhaenyra over the years has grown to accept the fate that is their blended family. Accepted it enough to be cordial, albeit sometimes still awkward, with Alicent. They have forever been bonded in having to deal with the moods that come with Viserys Targaryen. But Daemon... it seems like he has never forgiven his brother for the act of moving on. He seemed to only grow more jaded since the divorce from Laena.
"How do you even know this?"
"Aemond told Aegon who told Helaena who told Rhaena who told Baela who told me."
Rhaenyra breaks her gaze from the two women. "Keeping tabs on your nephew that you barely speak to?"
Daemon gave her an empty smile. Almost a little cruel like he would crush her like a bug if it would not so pitiful. "You naive little thing. When you figure things out, let me know."
Rhaenyra wants to ask him what he means by that, but Daemon pushes himself off the wall he was leaning against to leave Rhaenyra alone.
Alone was a feeling she was used to. Rhaenyra often found solace in the loneliness that she found herself stuck in. If she did not find comfort in it, it would swallow her whole. Jaw unhinged and bloodthirsty.
Her eyes went back to the where Alicent and the girl were sitting, but Helaena seemed to replace the girl's place to speak with her mother. Instead of getting chummy with Alicent, the mystery woman had gone over to Aemond. Rhaenyra felt a little queasy watching them. Like watching two little dolls or those silly little cake toppers people get. Picture perfect like the stock photos that came in picture frames.
She shook her head at herself with an internal laugh. Here she was picking apart her baby brother's seemingly first real relationship; she was no better than Daemon if she did that. It was she told herself when she watched one of the wives of the company's lawyers come up to the girl and give her kiss on the cheek. Like they were old family friends.
Rhaenyra suddenly finds herself straightening out her jacket and her heels moving across the outdoor area. Might as well introduce herself... as a kind sister figure, of course.
She has a funny feeling she will be seeing this girl around more often.
#a reader fic? yeah I know lol#this is short but I got this idea#aemond getting the pretty woman treatment lmaoooo#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen#aemond x you#aemond x fem!reader#hotd fic#hotd angst#black!reader
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a turn of events
synopsis - a mingyu wonwoo fanfic where you wake up naked from a drunken night spent with mingyu which changes your life.
genre - romance, smut, childhood friends to lovers
pairing - childhoodbsf!wonwoo x reader x childhoodbsf!mingyu
wc: approx 4.8k
NSFW - MINORS DNI
warnings: mentions of rain, use of pet names, teeny bit of jealousy, smut ; dirty talk, dom!wonu, dom!gyu, sub!reader, oral(f) and oral(m) wonu being a tad bit rough but it's soft a tad bit too. written with the thought of the reader being on birth control btw so no accidents🙈(lmk if i missed out anything)
an: A BIG BIG THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO HELPED ME ON THIS !! i started on this like last december and man this too way to long with my procrastination but anyway, i hope its okay because i'm not experienced with writing a lot of smut, do lmk if you guys want a pt.2 :) <3
m.list
Yeah, a few drinks huh… You did not know a few drinks would end up with you waking up fully naked a room, hell you barely remember anything. You turn your head and see a bunch of photo frames placed on the desk.
You slowly get up and let an out an audible 'fuck' when you felt the pain between your legs. They must've gone hard on you huh…
You take one in your hands and see two boys in it. Bringing it closer to your face and to it had to be your highschool friends. Kim Mingyu and Jeon Wonwoo, the school's most well known pair of basketball players. Their dynamic worked so well on court that they had been awarded the captain and vice.
The question everybody had was how they managed to get along? With Mingyu's big ego and Wonwoo's quiet, introverted personality, nobody could understand. You found yourself hanging out with the duo sometimes, they are honestly considered as your best friends. You've invited them to your house multiple times but last night was a first when going to their house since they just recently moved in.
They decided it was a great idea to hold a party after moving into their new house and to get it dirty from all the spilled drinks and litter. You don't even know whose room you were in, you haven't even had the time to familiarize yourself with the home before getting yourself drunk. What a smart move. The week's earlier events had been too much for you, letting loose at your friend's home was the best place you could, right?
Thinking of the chances of who you could have slept with, you honestly wouldn't mind either if it was Wonwoo or Mingyu. Heck you even might have a huge ass crush on them. There's just something about them ever since you got grouped up one day in highschool for a project. You have even caught yourself daydreaming about being railed by either. Those deceiving soft, innocent eyes of Wonwoo. You bet he was those 'angels in the streets, devil in the sheets' kinda guy. It made your insides flip in the best way possible. Well for Mingyu… his charm was unmatchable by other guys. His flirtatious and confident character were a plus factor. You wouldn't mind if it was him either. The pair was undeniably hot till you wouldn't deny your grown feelings for them ever since the end of highschool when they presented you flowers and a handmade cd full of songs made by them for your birthday.
A click from the door pulled you from your deep thoughts. Speaking of the devil. Mingyu stood there, plate of scrambled eggs in hand, with no shirt and sweatpants that were clinging onto his hips for its dear life. Your eyes trailed down his body till his voice interrupted you.
"Good morning." Mingyu says. Using his arm to gesture to the bed for you to sit back on. You hum in response, mentally cursing at your drunken mind for not thinking straight the previous night. The situation you got yourself into cannot get any more awkward. 'This ruined our friendship didn't it' you cry out to yourself in your head. You can't help but let a blush rise to your cheeks. Hiding your face, you adjust the loose navy blue shirt on you. Mingyu hands you the plate, watching you start to eat it and give a nod of approval to his cooking. He takes a seat next to you watching you finish the portion of food.
You were about to be saddened by the fact you couldn't remember anything, but then it all came back to you.
"Taking my cock so well aren't you baby? So pretty under me." His sloppy thrusts bring you to your fourth release of the night. The tight grip he had on your hips made purple marks bloom on them. his grunts and your high pitched moans mixed together. his teeth were sunk into his bottom lip with his eyes tightly shut. the sounds of skin slapping and the smell of sex was evident. “m’ about to cum gyu.” “Alright, cum with me baby.” his thrusts got faster, as your back started to arch at the rush of pleasure.
Well, shit.
“Hope you're okay with my choice of cooking. Just wanted you to not feel as awkward as you seem right now. You can be yourself, you know." Mingyu shrugs, his eyes fixated on the now empty plate in front of you.
"What happened last night?" Mingyu's small attempt of comfort does not help and you ask the question that was eventually going to be surfaced.
"Well, I'm not going to sugarcoat things and go straight to things." Mingyu's irises shift to lock with yours, his eyes seeming as unfazed as ever. "You went to my party yesterday, and you decided to be an idiot and take one too many drinks and decided to hook up with me. Not that I'm surprised about that last part." You break eye contact and groan as Mingyu's lips twitch upwards in amusement.
What the hell did you get yourself into?
—
"I might have slept with Kim Mingyu, please don't kill me." you confess to the trio in front of you. booseoksoon. Seungkwan slams his hands on the table, catching the attention of others in the cafe. "WHAT THE FUCK? WE LEAVE YOU ALONE FOR ONE NIGHT AND YOU DO THAT?" Soonyoung shoots him a glare to 'tone the fuck down' that seungkwan brushes off and Seokmin apologizes to the people who are giving questionable glances. You try to hide yourself further into your turtleneck.
In an instant, Soonyoung puts the pieces together and slides up next to you and pulls the material hugging your neck and the purple marks are on full display for the three. Seokmin's mouth drops agape, Seungkwan slaps a hand to his head, really, really hard, and Soonyoung brings his head closer to your neck trying to examine it as if it was just makeup and all of this was a prank.
"Girl, you're lucky that you lost your virginity to that hot shot Choi Seungcheol and it wasn't Kim fucking Mingyu." Seokmin shakes his head. His eyes are still wide, trying to recover from that bomb you just dropped on them.
"I thought you said Mingyu was your 'childhood friend'? I know the guy is hot but really?" Seungkwan's voice is now small, almost in a whisper. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE NOT INTO MEN ANYMORE BECAUSE OF THE LACK OF DICK YOU WERE GETTING MAN." His usual personality came back. You instantly take both your hands and plaster them onto his mouth, muttering apologies to the irritated audience and once again, Seungkwan looked like he was crazy.
"Hold your darn horses. Explain yourself before one of us marches to Mingyu's house and interrogates him for an answer," Soonyoung rubs his hands on his temples in distress.
Sure you had a fair share of dick but the last time you ever had sex was like when you were 22? Like a whole two years ago.
"Well, I'll keep it simple and…not so sweet but you get the idea." The three of them leaned closer to you, eyes filled with a mix of emotion. "Well, I just felt like downing a few drinks and in the morning I just woke up in his bed? What else do you even want me to say man." You sigh, head resting on your palm.
"Do you regret it?" Seokmin asks, not even hiding an ounce of his curiosity. You look down on your lap and pick on the skin on your fingers as your mouth forms a thin line. They knew that the sex was good and you barely regret it. You couldn't hide the fact that Mingyu was hot.
"Listen." Soonyoung breaks the silence. "I don't mind if you slept with one of the men you did not expect to, but I don't want you to be hurt. You better sort out where you stand, you better not come crying at one of our doorsteps on one of these days thinking that you were something. I bet all of us feel this way."
"Yeah, I've known him since I was young so this should not be so bad."
Soonyoung scoffs and continues. "Just sort your relationship out with him okay? Make sure it isn't awkward or anything. Men are fucking dense and make sure he doesn't think that you are his go-to fuck girl now."
—
So you find yourself at his doorstep. Grimacing when you remember what happened the last time you went there. You ring the doorbell and hear a pair of feet shuffling behind the door.
What you didn't expect was Wonwoo opening the door instead of Mingyu. You take a step back and you feel the tips of your ears getting hot.
Wonwoo's hand slowly slides off the handle of the door, "Hey y/n." the low hoarse voice you heard almost sent you to heaven. "Hello Wonwoo…" you find yourself trying not to stutter and hold that eye contact he is holding. Hoping that he did not know anything about the previous night's events, you go straight to the point. "Is Mingyu around by any chance? I have to talk to him about something." Wonwoo shakes his head, "He's out right now, do you wanna come in first? He may come back soon." You quietly accept the offer and enter their home. You see that his eyes follow your figure with your peripheral vision.
You follow him to his room as a usual routine, but you can't dismiss the quiet atmosphere. You did not know why you were feeling this way. Wonwoo was usually a guy with little words but now the fact that you sleep with Mingyu, you couldn't help but feel awkward. "You can get comfortable, let me just finish one more round of my game." You were honestly surprised at his carefree attitude. You sit yourself down on his bed, "Do you remember anything from last night?" You decide to ask. Wonwoo shook his head, "Not really, I was tipsy. Mingyu was busy banging somebody and I couldn't find you anywhere so I just went to bed." You relax at that statement, happy that he was clueless.
You became comfortable in Wonwoo's presence quite quickly. He finished his game quickly like he said he would and closed his game launcher as soon as the 'victory' screen flashed on his monitor. He placed his glasses on his desk.
"So what do you wanna do now?" He turns around in his chair to face you. Just at that instant, Mingyu enters Wonwoo's room. His eyes widened by the slightest before returning to its usual state. You wave at him, in which he returns one.
"What brings you here?" Mingyu asks. Wonwoo interjects, "She wanted to talk to you about something, which she can ask you now since you are here. So what was it you wanted to ask, y/n?" You were surprised by his sudden straightforwardness. "I uhh just wanted to ask Mingyu if…He's free tonight to come over and just hang out! And since you're here too Wonwoo, wanna come over for a bit later?" You stuttered, only sounding convincing for the last few words.
The pair in front of you questioned your invitation but went with it. "I'll be there." The taller one said. "I'll be slightly late but I'll definitely be there." Wonwoo gave a small smile. "Great! I'll see you guys then." You quickly take your leave, leaving the two in front of you speechless. "She came all the way here just for that?" Wonwoo snorts. "Weird…" Mingyu looks at the place where you previously sat.
—
You were expecting Mingyu's arrival. It was currently slightly past 8pm. Bringing out a few bottles of soju, you heard the doorbell ring.
You quickly pat down your outfit and open the door. Instead of seeing Mingyu, you saw Wonwoo. The wind got knocked out of your lungs after seeing him. Failing to calm yourself down, you hold the door open, letting him in. You fail to notice Wonwoo checking your outfit out while you were trying to neutralize your facial expression. He's in a white turtleneck with a pair of long black pants. To top it all off, he was using those goddamned black framed glasses. Fuck your horemones right now because gosh you really wanted to tear it off him. Your jaw slacked at the slightest and you got snapped out of your thoughts from Wonwoo clearing his throat.
"O-Oh hey Wonwoo." you smile. "Hey Y/n. Mingyu was held up at home, he made a mess earlier when trying to cook and he's cleaning it up right now." Wonwoo sighs, letting his hand run through his hair. You laugh, standing aside to let him in.
Wonwoo puts aside his things neatly as you take a seat in the living room. He joined you shortly as you opened a bottle of soju.
"What do you wanna do now?" You ask. "We could probably put on a movie or something." Wonwoo shrugs, taking down a shot of soju. "I have a better idea~" You sing-song, getting up and gesturing for Wonwoo to follow you.
"Tadaaa" You show Wonwoo the small set-up in your backyard, a few chairs set out with a perfect view of a full moon and a few stars. Wonwoo takes a seat, "This is nice," he sighs. "Of course it would be,'' You wink, placing down the bottles in your hands onto the table. You take your phone and put a jazz spotify playlist and leave it on shuffle.
As per usual, you started a conversation. They usually revolved around shared memories from highschool. Some including Mingyu of course, you wonder if he forgot about the night together with Wonwoo.
"Oh fuck don't remind me of that" You groan, "No way I would let you live this one down, it was hilarious how you asked Hong Jisoo for this favourite colour in 8th grade and the day after you came to school in braces with that exact colour. You were so obvious." Wonwoo was clutching his stomach, his cute laughter made you crack a smile and hide your face in your hands.
"Oh don't get me started on how you liked that girl from our level and shouted 'Oh this shot is for you!' in the basketball finals right in front of our whole cohort and missed it," You tease, nudging his shoulder. Wonwoo playfully rolls his eyes. "Oh hush, Mingyu would never stop teasing me for that one."
Your laughter slowly dies down as a familiar tune comes on. Your homecoming dance song. The exact song Wonwoo and you danced two years ago. You didn't have a date because you only had a crush on Mingyu and Wonwoo at the time. You remember it clearly. Watching Mingyu dancing with another girl made your jealousy kindle. But Wonwoo came in front of you, asking you if he could have the dance with you before gently grabbing your arm and you remember dancing with him for the rest of the night.
Similarly, now he did the same. Standing up, he reaches up his hand. "May I have this dance?" You could simply not refuse, putting your hand in his right away with a blush creeping up your face. He pulls you to his chest onto the grass of your backyard, the small light of your backyard with the stars fit the mood perfectly. You and him swayed to the familiar tune of the song and before you could realise, raindrops started to fall from the sky. One turned into ten and there was a small downpour. But fuck it, since you were already having fun, what more if it were in the rain with Wonwoo?
Hands still intertwined with his, you slow dance in the rain. Some turns and dips in between the song. You find the song coming to a slow stop, as your hands find a place around Wonwoo's neck. You find yourself in a more intimate position now. You look into his eyes, taking the chance to explore his face too. Wonwoo looks up, "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" You follow his gaze upwards to the bright moon, "Yeah, it really is." Wonwoo was glad you didn't know the meaning of the sentence he said, but maybe one day you would know the true intentions behind his words.
You both don't seem to mind the drenched outfits and how they were sticking to your body. Both of you slowly look back at each other and you see Wonwoo staring at your lips. You see Wonwoo hesitating, "Can I kiss you?" Wonwoo whispers, his head inching closer to yours slowly. You slowly nod your head, but you see his head stop inches before touching yours. Wonwoo takes a second before saying, "Fuck it." before pushing his lips onto yours.
Your lips slowly move on his, savoring the taste of him. His intoxicating cologne drags you into a trance, you need more of him as he needs more of you. Wonwoo's arms slide around your waist as he leans down more into the kiss. Your taste was addicting and thankfully he was sober still. He knew for a fact you were sober too, he'll make sure you would have an unforgettable night either way.
You slowly part from the kiss, grabbing Wonwoo's hand and pulling him into your house. You try and pull him in for another kiss before he cuts you off, "Not so fast sweetheart. You gotta dry off first, don't want you catching a cold." You laugh, "So thoughtful as usual." Wonwoo smiles, walking to your bathroom to grab a towel and he starts to dry your hair. You would never get sick of how any moment can turn wholesome with Wonwoo in an instant.
Wonwoo finishes drying the both of you off. "Lead the way princess." You take hold of his hand again, dragging him into your room. Wonwoo takes a seat on your bed, pulling you into his lap in the process
"This okay Y/n? Just wanted to feel you for the whole night..fuck you looked so hot the second you opened the door." Wonwoo groans when you grab his arms, putting it on your waist. "Yes this is alright Wonwoo." You smiled, but you were exploding inside. Your heart was beating against your ribcage and you hoped he didn't notice how fast your heart was beating.
He pulls you into another kiss. It was sweet at first, but Wonwoo starts to drag his tongue over your bottom lip then pushes his tongue into your mouth to explore it as soon as you grant him access. He takes your tongue into his mouth to slowly suck it. You moan at the sensation. Wonwoo pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You try to catch your breath as Wonwoo takes you into his arms, turning you around so he is caging you to the bed.
Wonwoo proceeds to sit on your bed, pulling you onto his lap. Wonwoo starts to press wet kisses from your neck, making sure to pay attention to your sweet spot and lightly sucking on it. You softly moan his name, your arms finding its place around his neck. Wonwoo's hands grab your hips, guiding them to sit on his erection. "See how turned on you make me feel? Been wanting this for ages," Wonwoo practically groans by your ear making your breathing start to uneven. The vibrations you felt from his chest went straight down to your core.
Wonwoo's hands guide down to your shirt, resting there. "May I?" You give him a nod, encouraging him to continue. "Let me know when to stop alright? Tap me twice if you want to stop. Don't be afraid to be vocal either." Wonwoo gives a small smile before lifting your shirt over your head. "Always so pretty for me sweetheart," he looks at you in awe. Looking away, you feel his hand coming to your cheek and pushing it to meet his gaze. He takes the chance to peck your lips before continuing and unclipping your bra. Wonwoo does not waste any time in taking one breast and fondling it. He takes your lips onto his again, muffling your moans.
When you have the chance to, you manage to choke out, "Please..Wonwoo.." He looks at you with a smirk, knowing how you were far in a bliss to talk properly. "Please what sweetheart? Use your words." You ball up you hands into fists, "Please just fuck me hard. I need you Wonwoo."
All Wonwoo did was let out a low chuckle. You did not know how to react. "Since you asked so nicely I could never say no to you. But I need a taste of you first." It's like a switch was flipped. Wonwoo's hands reached for your pants, taking them off as well as your underwear as if he was tearing it off you. "Be good for me and let your neighbor's know who's making you feel good hm?" You give a quick nod, eyes closing at the feeling of his hot breath fanning on your heat.
Wonwoo wastes no time in diving into your bundle of nerves, licking and sucking as if it were his last meal. He manages to shove in two of his long slender digits too, it's scissoring motion making your thighs clench around his head. Wonwoo's tongue was quickly bringing you to your release and both of you knew it. But the sudden sound of your door opening made the two of you jump.
"Oh what a pleasant surprise." Mingyu sauntered into the room, taking a good look at you sprawled out on your bed and Wonwoo's face covered in your juices. "Look who decided to join the party." Wonwoo licks his lips. The wind was knocked out of your lungs as you tried to comprehend that whatever was happening wasn't a dream. Mingyu confirms your thoughts by crashing his lips onto yours. It was an aggressive kiss, Mingyu's neediness was showing through it.
Mingyu abruptly pulls back and that sudden action makes you chase his lips. Mingyu laughs, "Such a needy baby aren't you? That makes the two of us." Mingyu chuckled, "Has Wonwoo been treating you well?" You watch how Wonwoo rolls his eyes and he goes back to focusing on getting you to your release. Mingyu gets the hint and starts to mark you up. You knew you would be littered in their marks. Of course you would, Wonwoo and Mingyu would have to mark what's theirs. The feeling of both their mouths on your body made your back arch off the bed as your hands reached to grab Wonwoo's hair and Mingyu's hand. And so your release came crashing right after Wonwoo's fingers started to rub your heat and Mingyu started to suck on one of your breasts.
Your mind was in a haze, mumbling a mix of their names and how good they made you feel. "Oh my god Gyu, you gotta taste her." Wonwoo pants, hands taking the remnants of your release off his face and putting his fingers at Mingyu's mouth which he clearly accepted. Mingyu moans around Wonwoo's fingers, making your core start to get wet once again.
Mingyu caresses your naked waist, "You're doing so well for us baby," Wonwoo stands up, dusting his knees. "Can you still take us? Unless our slut is already fucked out from a single release?" On a normal day you would shoot back a snarky remark but you knew if you did that right now, you would be put in place. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea but for now you would keep that idea for another time. You manage to give a small nod to the duo. They quickly undress fully, your eyes admiring their bodies. You take both hands to feel their figures. They both crack a smile, Wonwoo's face trying to turn away to hide his blush as Mingyu's hand reaches to caress your cheek.
It was always that in moments like these you found comfort in the two. You then take Mingyu's cock into your mouth as Wonwoo wastes no time in pushing himself into your walls. The three of you moan in unison. Your warm mouth and the swirling of your tongue drove Mingyu crazy and how your tight walls clenched around Wonwoo made him close his eyes tight. Your hands helplessly try to grab the bed sheets but with the pleasure that is running through you, nothing worked.
Wonwoo and Mingyu start to thrust into you in sync. The erratic moans you had sent Mingyu into heaven. It felt perfect. "Taking our cocks so well darling," Mingyu grits. "Making us feel so good sweetheart. You like that? You like Mingyu and I filling your holes and using you like a whore don't you." Wonwoo starts to thrust into you with a rougher pace the second his hands slide onto your waist gripping it hard so he can feel you skin to skin.
You can feel that their releases were approaching and your second one for the night as well. You focus on running your tongue under Mingyu's cock and sucking it the way he reacted to it the best. As for Wonwoo, you tried to stabilize yourself but nothing was working. Your eyes roll back and it feels as if your body was falling into an abyss.
Wonwoo takes your legs and hooks them over his shoulders, "Mingyu and I've been thinking about this for the longest time. Wanted to fuck you well so you know who you belonged to. Mmm want you to be ours right Gyu?" Mingyu takes a second to control his breathing, "That's right baby. Want it so bad." The words that got uttered out of their mouths encouraged you to work harder to get them to their releases. Mingyu could not take it anymore. The combination of how you moan then hollow your cheeks right after made him shoot his seed into your mouth. You make sure he sees you waste nothing when swallowing everything you could.
Wonwoo starts to be slightly more vocal indicating that his release was approaching too. "You drive me so crazy." Wonwoo takes your hands and interlaces them with his. "Wonwoo. Oh my god Wonwoo." You repeat his name on and on, gripping his hands tight. Both of you were sent off the edge, Wonwoo spilling his load right into your abused hole.
Just like that, Wonwoo is soft again as you lay side by side coming down from your high. Mingyu had already walked off to get a towel to wipe you off. "Are you feeling alright?" Wonwoo asks, one of his hands never leaving yours."Yeah I feel great Wonwoo, thank you." You smile at him, feeling all bubbly in your stomach again.
"What Mingyu and I said just now, we meant it. Maybe you could give one of us a chance? Ever since you turned up to our house when both of us were ill and not minding the fact that you may fall sick too made us realize our honest feelings for you." You look at Wonwoo, you thought all they said was all the 'In the moment' type of things that you were gaslighting yourself into not believing it.
"How…" You mutter out. "Well you have Mingyu, never having the balls to come to face his feelings and like for example, dancing with other girls during prom. Or you have me, being well aware of how you make me feel and coming to face them. Like how I danced with you at prom well knowing that it may be the last time I would."
"I would love to have something like that, with the two of you. Been dreaming of it for a few years." Wonwoo seems shocked at what you said. At that time, Mingyu walks into the room. "Repeat that for us." Wonwoo orders. "Yeah, I would love to figure out something between the three of us if that's possible." You glance between the two, noticing how Mingyu's eyes widen. "We would love that." Wonwoo utters, looking at Mingyu in disbelief. Mingyu snaps out of his daze, "Now let's get you cleaned up shall we?"
That night you found yourself in between your two lovers, still trying to come to believe what happened in the span of a few hours. But how you woke up, legs tangled with them and getting showered with kisses, hugs and a great breakfast made you not regret a single thing.
"Maybe you could do what you've been wanting to do with us these couple of years you've been waiting for." Mingyu winks as Wonwoo gives you a knowing smirk oh you were so ready for what was to come.
an: after changing the plot like 4-5 times i might just wanna stick to writing hcs and reactions TT do lmk if i should continue w this !
reblogs and likes are appreciated, thank you :)
#seventeen fluff#seventeen#seventeen smut#mingyu seventeen#mingyu x reader#kim mingyu#seventeen mingyu#mingyu smut#wonwoo smut#seventeen wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo seventeen#wonwoo x reader#mingyu#wonwoo#<3
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Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 2)
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous
Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader
Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)
Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dream manipulation. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Plot related cigarette use. Dubious consent.
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: So I know I initially billed this as a two shot but the story has run away with me in the most lovely way. Part 3 will be coming soon. Thank you for all your kind responses to part 1, it honestly means so much to me. Hope you enjoy this one too. All my love, Saskia xx
Sandman Masterlist
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The veil of sleep comes down upon your weary body with a feather-light touch, trying to coax your mind back into the world of dreams.
Dreamscapes have been a whole new experience for you in the past month of your life. Before, you would wake with no recollection of what had played out. Not even the slightest inkling. Now, you remember everything.
They are staggering; bursting with details and ideas beyond your most outlandish daytime imaginings. The emotions that are conjured by them, both when asleep and also awake are just as bold.
And even though it's been 23 nights since it started you are still finding them predominantly jarring and disorientating. You are baffled by how other people cope with the sheer vividness. The unpredictability. Maybe they have become desensitised. You can only hope that the same will happen for you in time.
One thing you tell yourself with each sunrise:
Thank goodness they weren't nightmares.
At least, you don't think they are. There's no resemblance between yours and what you have heard others describe over the years, nor to those outlined in a dream decoding book you had checked out of the library last week. There's no obvious threat or fear. No re-living of traumatic events. Just weird subtext.
The first dream found you standing barefoot on a beach. A mirage distorted the particulars of the scene making it impossible to see further than half a meter in front of you. The temperature of the sand under your soles was verging on painful and as such, it forced you to walk into the unknown before you.
A groaning wind started to brew and lifted the sand into sparkling flurries. You shielded your eyes from the abrasive particles.
The sun was at its apex when you heard the ear splitting bangs. Unmistakably gun shots; you didn't last much longer in the dream and woke with a start.
For the next week, your dreams had been like a series of video clips edited into a supercut.
Raven wings. Black cats. Hellfire. Ruby red glow. Sprawling library shelves. Landscapes hewn by earthquake fissures. Hotel corridors. A handsome, blond haired man wearing sunglasses, holding a blood covered knife.
If you didn't know any better, you would begin to suspect that your new box of tea bags had been laced with a psychedelic. Alas, no. Your hypothesis was unequivocally disproved when you friends had been completely unaffected after stopping by for a Sunday afternoon catch up.
This quick fire of snapshots eventually stopped, transforming into lucid long form dreams. You often think back to the first one where it happened.
Standing in the the empty room, and the appearance of the figure dressed in black. The colour that had flashed in their midnight eyes had the quality of liquid silver. Sometimes you wonder if you see the same image in other dreams, standing in amongst a crowd.
From that point on, regardless of what dream you are in, you cannot shake the intuitive prickle down your spine that tells you someone is watching you.
You reason that it is nothing to be concerned about. Humans dream, and you cannot deny that some of them - swimming in a sea of clouds, re-visiting childhood haunts, trying out superpowers - have been quite fun.
You roll over on to your left side and close your eyes.
You dream.
The room you see is expansive in breadth and depth. Impressive windows bring brilliant light into the space which bounces off the ivory stone of the floors and walls. There are statues positioned at equidistant intervals, implying that the chamber is a gallery of sorts.
One effigy, fashioned from bronze, and rich in colour draws your attention. The lines and curves of its form intrigue you, despite not knowing the creature it was portraying.
You are about to move on when the feeling of being watched sparks through your skeleton.
Everything changes.
Clarity gives way to haze. Sun is swapped for moon.
You see a man across the room. He stands with a perfect posture. Graceful, powerful. His elbows are bent, fingers interlaced, palms facing upwards. Sheer black fabric floats around his frame. It moves languidly, giving glimpses of his bare body beneath.
The man's face is imperceptible. The distance between you too great but somehow you know you are the focus of his attention.
His robes fall to the floor with a gossamer sigh. The pale, unmarked skin of his slight form glows beautifully in the moonlight. You look down in embarrassment as arousal flushes through you, and you see that you are suddenly as naked as he is.
You gasp, and snap your gaze back up.
The sight you see is rather unexpected. The man is intimately touching himself.
You feel compelled to mirror him. You immediately reach between your legs. The man groans as you make contact.
All it takes is a little bit of attention on your clit before you are ready to slide two fingers into your core. The noise you make at the feeling of the stretch is salacious. The man echoes you with a sound that is just as dirty.
It spurs you on and you burrow deeper.
You curl your fingers until your legs are weak and quivering. You long to sink to your knees so you can finish in a more comfortable position yet you can't. An invisible force is preventing you.
It keeps you on display.
Just like the statues to your left.
You wonder if it is for the man's benefit.
You try to focus on him but it is impossible to do so through the trembling glaze over your eyes. All you are able to sense from him now is the sound of the rhythmic pump of his palm around his cock and his panting breaths.
Desperate whines escape your lips. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm but you can't seem to lose your balance and fall into the abyss. The unsteadiness in your legs is too much of a distraction. You rub at your clit again in the hope that it will bring the satisfaction you need.
It does nothing.
You are so frustrated by your body's disobedience that it is almost painful.
"Please. Please. Please," you mutter under your breath.
A voice suddenly speaks next to you ear. A velvet voice with the timbre of a thunder rumble. It pours like a soothing syrup into your brain and commands you to do exactly as it bids.
"Let go."
You climax intensely, crying out in relief, squirting all over your fingers and onto your hand as you legs finally give way.
The fall jolts you back into consciousness and you wake with a barely contained scream of pleasure in your throat and adrenaline lighting up your nervous system.
Daylight is peeking through a little gap in the curtains. You take a deep, grounding breath.
That was obscene.
The context, the actions, the sounds. That sultry voice at the end. From the throbbing in your vulva and the twitching of your legs it seems like you didn't just finish in the dream.
There is really no point in looking it up in the dream decoding book.
You were clearly horny on a subconscious level. Or craving attention, hence the exhibitionist behaviour. The latter is not usually in your nature to seek out but if it is the reason, you might not have to wait long before the desire is fulfilled. There is a work event happening this evening that may require you to accept an award and address the crowd.
You love this time of year where community projects get recognition; a nomination alone is a sure-fire way of garnering publicity which in turn helps the charity's outreach.
But first, a normal day at the office. You throw back the covers and go straight to the bathroom to rinse off the evidence of your wet dream.
---------------------------------------------
Your right hand connects with the metal push plate of the function space's front door. The heels of your boots click and clack as you cross the threshold, moving from floor board to paving slab.
It's fortuitous that you brought a long, thick coat with you this evening for the wind is wintery and unforgiving. You stay close to the wall of the building to try and shelter from it as much as possible.
The pavements are slick with recent precipitation, streetlamps bouncing off of the water with caustic white light.
Then you see him; a figure cut from shadow.
He's breathing in such a laboured way that you wonder if he is sick.
Your phone is still inside the venue, currently being guarded by a colleague along with your bag but it wouldn't take long to retrieve it and call for medical assistance.
"You okay?" Concern colours the simple question.
His reply comes quickly and assertively, "I am well, thank you."
You nod, not entirely convinced for the stranger's response was as stiff as his posture, and reach inside the pocket of your coat for the box of cigarettes and lighter stashed within.
You settle one of the sticks between your lips and use your thumb to bring forth a flame. The crackle of smouldering paper and tobacco perforates the damp air and you take a needy drag. The nicotine taints and tantalises in equal measure, filling you with guilt and relief. You've been trying to give up but the little voice inside your head had won this evening. You close your eyes and focus on the pleasure it brings before flicking some ash into the tray mounted to the wall.
Your attention now back on your surroundings, the stranger steps into the scope of the streetlight. The angles of his cheekbones, jaw and nose are accentuated to an incredible extent in the gleam. His dark hair is being buffeted about the wind, locks of it very close to falling in the blue eyes that are unwaveringly trained on you. He begins to talk again, showcasing his deep baritone.
"I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you just now. It is not how I envisaged our first interaction transpiring. I hope that you can forgive me for my deception."
You laugh nervously and take another quick drag. "It makes no difference if you're honest with me or not. I don't know you."
"You are correct. You don't know me. Not yet -"
"Oh," you cut in quickly. "I'm not looking for a hook up."
While you cannot deny that he is arrestingly beautiful, you are technically working and have never been one for one-night stands.
"You mistake my meaning. I have been searching for you for so long. I oftentimes doubted your existence however I was wrong and I find myself humbled to be in your presence at last."
The grandiose declaration is one of the stranger things you have heard in your life and you used to deal with drunken patrons when you worked at a university bar. Maybe he was intoxicated; it would explain a lot.
"Look, this might work on other people but I just came out here to have a cigarette -"
It is his turn to interrupt you now. "You will have no need of those going forward. Your addiction to them will be replaced by me."
"Excuse me?"
You are trying to sound incredulous, however, inside you are rather frightened by the turn the conversation has taken. His gaze is not helping either.
The crystalline eyes are embodying every part of the descriptor; a hard, chill inducing blue. Ash drops from the smouldering cigarette as a tremble of fear rattles through you. The man sees this and the ice suddenly melts to a warmer hue.
His tone turns soft and gentle. "We are supposed to be together. Our union is fated."
He's staring at you expectantly even after your two attempts at rejection. You swiftly stub out the part-finished cigarette and take ownership in ending the interaction.
"I've had enough of this. I'm going back inside now. If you try and follow me, I will speak to the venue's management. If you are still here when I leave later, I will call the police."
You turn towards the door.
He calls your name. Your full name. Middle name too.
Despite your brain chanting at you to go inside, you can't stop yourself from looking back at him. "H-how do you know my full name?"
The profound rumble of his voice resonates deep in your ears. "I know everything about you, Y/N."
He's right in front of you now. His posture is bordering between desperate and predatory. Like he can't quite decide if he is seeking comfort from you, or if he wants to consume you.
You are fumbling behind you to find the door handle. "Please get away from me," you say hoarsely.
He reaches for your hand.
You jump back and struggle to get out of his grip but his strength is inhumanly strong. His skin of his palm is glacial against yours and yet somehow, the touch makes heat snake up your arm and settle in your chest.
You become aware of an internal feeling that you've always had, like that of chapped lips. Low level but something that constantly nags. Something that existed every minute of your life until the moment he touched you.
You grip his hand and look up at his face in astonishment.
"Good. That's it. Look into my eyes. See what you know is there."
You do as he says, totally stunned by the depths that seem to reside within them. It's as if there are universes suspended inside. Maybe there are. Perhaps you could float among the celestial bodies if you asked him to show you how.
You feel so alive and overstimulated that you welcome the delirious thoughts taking over your mind.
You welcome him.
It's like there is a cord connected between your heart and his that is shortening in length. The intensity scares you.
"Give into the pull," he urges darkly, sensing your anxiety.
You obey, feet moving of their own accord and then you are standing before him, just centimetres apart.
He smiles triumphantly and presses you flush against his body.
His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. More heat sears through you from the additional skin-on-skin contact.
Your peripheral vision closes tighter and tighter with every passing moment. The outside world is gone.
He leans in further and you wonder hazily if he is going to kiss you or break your neck. Both options are equally viable given the behaviour he has exhibited. You keep staring at him regardless.
His irises flash silver as he intones his next sentence. "Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."
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Taglist: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt
"Am I your dream girl? You think of me in bed. But you could never hold me. You like me better in your head."
#the sandman#sandman#the sandman netflix#the sandman 2022#the sandman fic#the sandman fanfic#the sandman imagine#morpheus#lord morpheus#morpheus x reader#morpheus/dream#morpheus/dream x reader#dream of the endless#dream of the endless x reader#dream#dream x reader#dream smut#dream of the endless smut#the endless#the dreaming#dark!morpheus#tom sturridge#fanfic#soulmates#angst#saskia writes sandman#Spotify
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Flowers (1) - Sunflower
Summary: A sunflower brings the end. (The sunflower is seen as a sign of hope and warmth, positivity and strength, strong bonds and lasting happiness.)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: angst, mentions of FWB arrangement
A/N: A short drabble.
Flowers masterlist
A simple flower shouldn’t make you sad or break your heart.
The sunflower in his hand wasn’t for you, as you thought. He gave it to someone else.
Her name is Dolores, or Dot for her friends. A new agent, and red-haired devil. Everyone believes she’s nice and tough. You know she’s the devil in disguise.
You never liked her but tried to pretend you didn’t see the looks she gave you whenever you got too close to James.
One day she just stumbled into your life, to mess things up between you and him. Who would’ve thought that a pretty face could ruin the arrangement you and Bucky had?
It was sex only. A simple arrangement to find solace in times of need.
For almost three years you and Bucky were inseparable. You were devoted to him, and he would never leave your side for too long.
It was your fault that you believed there was more between you and the brunette super-soldier than physical attraction.
He never brought you flowers or laughed about your non-funny jokes. All he ever did was take you apart in the best way possible.
Bucky is smitten with that pretty agent, and you cannot do shit to stop him from giving her flowers. You never put a label on what you had with him. Now your decision bites you in the ass.
“They are a cute couple, don’t you think?” Another agent said. You didn’t remember her name, and honestly, you didn’t want to. “I wonder if he’s finally going to ask her out.”
You hummed and held back a snarky comment. “Why do you think he will?” You said instead. “He barely knows her.”
“Yeah, but he’s always so happy when she’s around. Usually, Sergeant Barnes is grumpy and broody. But when Dottie is around, he’s a ray of sunshine.”
“A ray of sunshine, sure,” you gritted your teeth when Bucky offered the sunflower to Dot. It hurt too damn much. “How about you mind your business?”
“No need to get bitchy,” she snapped at you. “If you don’t find it romantic when a man gives a woman flowers, it’s not my fault.”
“Well, a few hours ago he gave something better to me,” you gave her a bitchface. “He shouldn’t dance on too many parties, don’t you think?”
She gaped at you, but you didn’t give a shit. It was not the time for pleasantries. Not while you had to watch Dot squeal and hug your man.
You should’ve cried or already missed his warmth. Oddly, all you could think about at that very moment was that no man would ever feel so good inside of you as he did.
You forced yourself to turn around and walk away. If Bucky wanted the sweet agent with a heart of gold, so be it. Crying over spilled milk never was your style.
There are plenty of other fish in the sea…
Part 2
Tags in reblog.
#Sunflower#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x y/n
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Love & Ruin 2
Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.
Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra)
Warnings: cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, incest, SEVERE mental illness, helaemond is canon, failed plots, a disaster wedding, just targ things, too many warnings to count honestly
Word count: 10k
Note: I am a bad person. Im sorry it took me so long to finish but my life is a cluster fuck of bad and worse and it is a blessing I havent yeeted myself into hell. Pt three is alr in the works unlike this one. PS Helaena's and Aemond's plan did work. I just didn't directly mention what it was...yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy (if you're still interested)
Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @caffein8me @llearlert @introverbatim @ladybug0095 @yazzzmints @heavenly1927 @rinirinse @aelora-a (srry it didn't let me tag some of you.)
“Be quiet,” Aegon growled into the ear of the whore he chose to warm his bed this morning. The squelching sounds of his thrusts slamming into her cunt echoed throughout the room. She stifled a moan and dug her teeth into the pillow below her head. Her voice did nothing, only reminded him he wasn’t you. Aegon tried to get girls who resembled you but none pleased him the same.
Today was an especially bad day for Aegon and mayhaps he was taking it out on the whore too much. Her cheeks were stained red from his slaps and surely her cervix would be bruised by how hard he was pounding himself into her. He had good reason though; you were returning home.
It took five years, but he almost was able to move forward with his life. You still plagued him in his dreams and there was a constant tugging at his heart everytime your name was brought up. You simply existing reminded him of the only time he was ever happy, and he clung to the memory like a baby clings to their mother's tit.
His family was very determined to keep you away. It worked successfully, he hadn’t heard nor seen from you at all. Every letter, every flight, every potential unsavory way of stalking your whereabouts was immediately dispelled. That was only within the first year, at some point he gave up. Aegon knew you would come back at some point; you were in love with him. But days, weeks, months, and years passed and still he received nothing.
The idea they had turned you against him murdered the last bit of hope he had. It was one of the many things that formed him into the ‘monster’ everyone believed him to be. The first was being born the first son yet being ignored for his elder sister his entire life. The night at Driftmark was the second trauma that seared a mark into his heart and brother's face forever. The third was the forceful marriage to his sister.
Aegon scarcely remembers that day or the night afterwards. He used milk of the poppy to ease his mind to the point he could hardly stand during the vows… he doesn’t know if he actually attended the first dance. He does remember the bedding and it makes his skin crawl.
He was forced to walk into and perform his own rape. He didn’t want it and would never want it. There was no daydream or drug strong enough to make him forget. It was awful in every sense of the word. Aegon cried during it and then he cried after it. No matter how much he scrubbed himself in the bathing chambers he could not free himself of the feeling of disgust. Then there was the overwhelming guilt that came after.
Aegon never touched her again, never really interacted with his own children. Why would he? He was an accomplice in her suffering as much as his own. She didn’t want to marry him either, she didn’t want to bear his children. He could never be a good husband, lover or anything of the sort to Helaena. She deserved it, he thought, to have someone who could care for her. Someone who could love her like a wife… not like a sibling.
But that would never be him and it ate him alive like the disease killing their father. She was too kind, too pure for him or any other man at court. She was stupid, yes, but with a larger heart than any of the women he’s met combined. Yet, he never brought himself to do his duty to stay loyal and cherish her like Alicent told him to. The only good thing he ever did for Hel was leaving her alone, it made her happy to be free of him. In truth, it would make everyone happier if the world was rid of him completely.
Maybe his life wasn’t over yet, maybe there was still a shred of hope for him left in the world. The reason he used to be happy was returning to him. Even if it was to marry another man… He could sort that out easily enough. When Aegon first heard the news, he wasn’t as calm. He
He could take back what was his and become the man everyone wants him to be… Or he’ll drag you down into his depravity with him. It didn’t matter, either option was a severe improvement from the existence he was currently suffering.
“Are you ready to be back?” Jacaerys inquired whilst trying to tame the loose curls on his head. The carriage ride from the doc to the keep had proved to be dreadfully long and boring. Luke was seeping anxiety that made the entire car tense. ‘Aemond, Aemond, Aemond, he’s gonna take my eye! He’s gonna kill me if I go back!’ The chants of a scared kid really did threaten to send you over the edge. ‘Just apologize, Lucerys... He’s not going to do anything while grandsire is alive. Nothing is going to happen, just say sorry before it does.’
Everything you said fell on deaf ears. His fear was expected, he took his uncle's eye and received no punishment. Granted, after hearing both sides it seemed inevitable for someone to get gravely injured. You still genuinely believed or at least convinced yourself a simple apology might just keep Luke alive for a few more years. “No brother, I would rather be at home,” you muttered in a near whisper.
Jace, always the obedient son, was oozing confidence completely unbothered by the situation. He learned that from Daemon, never let them see you falter, especially the Hightower cunts. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”
Your heart clenched, a sorrowful reminder of your childhood beginning to boil to the surface. A whirlwind of memories threatening to break you.
You learned how truly codependent you were on your uncle. Without him you had become a shell of whatever it was you once were. Your insecurities reigned supreme as you had an insatiable need for approval from everyone. That meant doing everything you were asked and then some to become the greatest version of yourself you could be. You took care of people, especially your brothers whom you felt the full burden for. You were the eldest and you allowed them into a situation that got them hurt and another child maimed.
It wasn’t just your insecurities; your moods would take a turn quicker than before. At the drop of a hat, you could be raging or hysterically crying. Sometimes you didn’t even understand why. You became obsessive over little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. For example: how your dresses were fitted, how your hair was styled, and what you ate and drank. It wasn’t in the front of your mind at the time, but you did things in the way he always preferred.
Without him, deciding on things became hard. You never needed to think before because he did it for you. Not only that but you became a chronic liar. It wasn’t on purpose, sometimes things would just slip out. You were great at denying any problems you had and chalking them up to your blood moon. You denied any relationship with Aegon and defended him more than he deserved. Especially since he so carelessly abandoned you. No letters, no visits, he left you with fucking nothing. You started to convince yourself you never loved him; it was just pity. You had a burning desire to rescue him and mistook it for genuine affections.
Four years ago, almost to this very day the invitation to the prince and princess’s wedding had just reached your doorstep. You learned that day just how much you did love him because when the letter was read you cried so much you vomited. You stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped doing all the things you love and rotted in your bed waiting for the pain to subside… Or for the stranger to take you.
The image of him touching her the same way he did you, the idea of him whispering the same things he did to you, the way she would cry out his name like you did… It made you want to rip your hair out and peel your skin off. She probably had an extremely elegant dress; the throne room was probably filled with music and guests, and they would ride their dragons together to show off their union… You tore all the clothes he liked to shreds and punched a hole in your mirror…
Originally, you never had any disdain for your exceedingly kind and misunderstood aunt but now it was pure untamed hatred. The jealousy was incredible, truly you would be confined to a prison cell if you acted on the things you thought up.
You could kill both of them and end the war before it even started. You prayed she would miscarry the twins, it didn’t happen. You prayed he would get too drunk and die from alcohol poisoning, obviously it didn’t happen. You prayed the entire keep would be set on fire and everyone within it would die burning in flames just as your father did… it did not.
You were never good enough for him. He abandoned you and left you to rot after taking something so important from you. You were a fool, a naive idiot. The fear of being abandoned personified ever more when your mother gave birth to two legitimate children. Everyone was going to abandon you and it was driving you insane. You had mastered the art of pretending, no one was able to tell what was underneath the surface.
Jacaerys was really the only person who noticed the change. He was the only one who saw through your lies and facade. And he was the only one who genuinely helped you overcome the complete insanity you had sunk into. He pulled you out from drowning in a sea of madness and kept you afloat ever since. In turn, you felt a little guilty for your wicked thoughts and desires, but you were atoning for them by good will and actions.
Still, sometimes late at night when you were alone, he would come back. The memories would come flooding in and sleep would evade you. He had burned a scar into your heart that never fully healed and probably never would. According to your mother who said the first heartbreak is always the worst and most memorable. You didn’t want to come back. You didn’t ever want to see Aegon Targaryen again.
“No, it’s because- ” You hit your head on the back of the car, knocking the air out of your lungs. The carriage came to a halt, catapulting Lucerys forward into the other seat. Jacaerys bursted into uncontrollable laughter as he rubbed his forehead from the impact.
It was a great start to a visit, a crash landing. Surely, not foreshadowing the rest of your adventure. As you unpiled from the carriage a welcome party stood there waiting for you. It was unexpected, seeing your grandsire there in decent health, you heard he was much worse.
Then there were the Hightowers, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but here. Your eyes scanned over them one by one, Alicent wore her plastered fake smile as usual, Otto stood too stiffly and only looked at Daemon, Aemond looked ready to murder you all. He was far different from what you remembered, tall, slender, and handsome even with one eye.
Then there was Helaena… Completely disassociated from whatever was happening and mumbling under her breath. You smiled, the rage you felt before when you imagined her was gone. You had actually healed and successfully moved forward. This was good, so great you could even hug her…
Until your eyes moved to her left. The sunken feeling in your chest blossomed into a new monster threatening to devour you. Your smile faded; your heart began erratically pumping blood to all parts of your body. Your knees locked in place trying to keep your balance.
Aegon… Aegon was only ten feet away and yet there seemed to be miles between you. It was a joke, a great joke, he looked more gorgeous than he ever had. His hair was cut to frame his face perfectly, his jaw was more defined, his dark circles brought out the beautiful sea blue that surrounded his pupils.
The smile that adorned his face was larger than any you had seen him wear prior. His eyes twinkled with childlike glee. The corset you wore became suffocatingly tight and the heat in King’s Landing began to make your head spin. Your breathing was rapid, a million emotions coursing their way through your head.
Aegon took a step down the stairs, your body wanted to flee but you were frozen in time. Another step, all the air in your body left you. A third step made all the bile in your stomach rise to your throat. His feet touched the ground, and he strode towards you, the world started to spin, your mind racing with the worst possible outcomes.
You blinked, for a mere second. You reminded yourself it had been five years; he had no hold on you anymore. He was a monster, a terrible man and a worse son. Aegon was not going to get under your skin, you were not going to falter in front of him. You were better now, you moved on, you were mentally healthy…
You opened your eyes, inhaling a deep breath. He was one pace in front of you, “Niece.”
Disappointment, Aegon was riddled with it every day and today was no expectation. He was so excited his soul wanted to jump out of its skin. But no, the second he approached you passed out and all the sudden he was the villain. What could he have possibly done a foot away to make you faint?
Unless you were too excited to see him, your heartbeat too fast and you fainted. It would make the most sense, reuniting with the person you truly love would send anyone over the edge. It almost made him faint when he first laid eyes upon you.
Gods you were so much more beautiful than he could have imagined. You had grown into a gorgeous woman, easily the prettiest one at court. Your eyes sparkled like diamonds, your hair flowed perfectly down your face, and your cheeks still flushed bright pink when you saw him.
Your dress hugged your figure in all the right places and the things he imagined laid beneath made him insatiably horny. Control, he had to remind himself it’d been years and he needed that. It was hard considering the two days you’d been here he had only seen one glimpse. One quick glimpse in the courtyard before you were stolen away again.
Your chambers were only a few hallways away and he could see you anytime he wanted. And yet, Aegon had to plot when to corner you. There was not only a hoard of guards following you around every step you took but Jacaerys clung to your skirts like a lost orphan.
So, he waited and waited… and fucking waited until he was practically ripping the hair from his skull. The lack of your presence was okay on the first day, the second it was tolerable but by the third day it became suspicious. Impatient and spoiled, his mother’s words rang true more and more each day.
It was increasingly clear that it wasn’t just them keeping you from him, but you were putting extra care into avoiding him. What did he do wrong? The stalking? The letters? The gifts that were never opened. It was all obvious professions of love… Why would you be uncomfortable with that?
Aegon was nursing another goblet of wine as he sunk to the floor. His face felt wet as if he were crying… Was he crying? His body to the point of numbness he could not tell any longer. Sadly, it seemed the wine was not working to cure the ever-disheartening thoughts in his mind.
You were going to get married and forget all about him. They hadn’t given him a single opportunity to attempt to carve his way back into your heart and most likely weren’t going to. What was the reason for living at this point? The one thing he yearned to touch was so close yet so far.
He scoffed at himself. Aegon was no tragic poet, but he was beginning to sound like one. It was the alcohol, a new type probably causing his episode. He went to grasp the corner of the table to stand up, but his legs could no longer withstand his weight. The contents on the table along with his own body fell to the floor.
Not one of his proudest moments to date.
“You’re pathetic,” an irritating voice laced with superiority drew him out of his head. “Brother, have you come to visit your- I mean my children? They aren’t here.” Aemond clenched his jaw once, twice until he let out a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Aegon, there was no winning against someone fueled by pure delusions.
He would never come to see his- Aegon’s children in his room. They would be with their sweet mother far away from the monstrosity they called dad. “We’re all being forced to attend her wedding tourney.”
“When?” Aegon’s eyes lit up and the sunken expression finally lifted. “At dawn,” Aemond took a step back before the smell of wine, sweat and uncleanliness of three days seeped into his nose. “For the love of the seven take a bath!”
Hope, there was still hope left in the world! All of the sudden he had awakened, the whimpering pathetic mess he was a few moments ago was long forgotten. The gears in his brain began turning…
As Aemond strode out of Aegon’s chambers a new plan formed into the mind of the monster himself… “Little brother,” he sang with a cruelty only Aegon could possess. “Will our dear uncle Gwayne be participating?”
-
Aemond did not loathe his brother as much as everyone believed he did. Yes, he was jealous Aegon the wastrel was first born, and he was not. Yes, he was jealous Helaena was forced to marry the pig instead of him. No, he did not blame his brother for any of this. Solidarity was exceedingly important in times like these, future succession wars and all.
What he learned was, Aegon hated being married to Helaena as much as she did. Aegon didn’t want to be king and would gladly give it to Aemond if the time came. Lastly, as sad as Aegon could be he was fiercely loyal to his family. If it came down to it Aemond knew his brother would die for them… or take an eye instead.
“Has he stopped wallowing in his sorrow?” Even when she insulted people Helaena’s voice sounded like angels in his ear. “No, though he has come up with another borderline war crime plan.” She let out a deep sigh as she fiddled with the needle she used to sew. “Should I ask?”
“He’s urging Gwayne to kill the Fiance before they have a chance to wed.” Helaena stifled a laugh; she should be offended he would dishonor her or even vengeful since her husband dare tried to intervene on another woman’s affairs. Instead, she bit her lip from smiling, “I should be glad she is not as deranged as him or I may not be here today.”
Aemond rose from his seat and sat down next to her. His long fingers gently caressed the side of her face, pushing back the strands that obscured his view of her violet eyes. “I would kill her before she could ever lift a finger.”
Helaena gently tugged Aemond’s hands away from her face, cupping them in her lap. “Aems you are far too serious. She’s still as sweet as a rose I hear…”
There was a sudden silence between them, not uncomfortable in the slightest but eerily still, nonetheless. If Helaena was being honest with herself, she felt terribly for you. She couldn’t imagine what pain he had caused or what exactly he had done to cause you to faint at the mere sight of him.
She could imagine, Helaena simply wished not to burden herself with those thoughts. You were her savior in a weird sense of the word. Because of your existence her brother did not attempt to bed her or force heirs upon her, he did not touch her, he did not bother her unless requested of him. You kept his mind preoccupied, so she wasn’t completely trapped in a horrid marriage such as her mothers. Aegon was a good brother and only a brother… Sometimes she worried what would happen if you ceased to exist.
Still, she was trapped in a marriage. Aemond and Helaena had two vastly different reasons for wanting you around. Helaena wanted to see Aegon content, happy even if they were lucky. And if things happened the way it did in her dreams… Their marriage would be annulled and you two could wed and she could continue to do as she pleased with the father of her children. A fairytale but she was known for being the dreamer.
Aemond simply wanted his brother to get off his fucking ass and do something with his life. He wanted him to stop whoring, to stop pushing away duties, and to start taking matters seriously. The only way he was going to do that was if his favorite toy was promptly returned to him. You also kept Aegon far away from his beloved Helaena, that was merely a bonus.
If he had to choose, obviously he would have not chosen his brother to become obsessed with one of the bastards, it couldn’t be helped anymore. The seeds of whatever drug Aegon made you take to enjoy him had already been planted. The spell you used to seduce him had already begun working.
At the very least you defended them… somewhat. It was enough to make him wish you were dead even less. He had to remind himself, though you were a bastard and related to his sworn enemy, you were also just a woman. As his mother once said, ‘all women are created in the image of the mother and to be spoken of with reverence… And to be treated as such!’
Aemond let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “We’re going to find a convoluted way to help him, aren’t we?” Helaena hummed to herself for a moment, was there any way they could really help you? “Do you believe she is distant because she believes he abandoned her?”
They gazed at each other for a moment, a silent agreement. You were easy to read, at least to the dreamer herself… “Yes Aems, I think we are.”
The dress you were forced into was unbearably tight, the summer sun had seeped through the red fabric and your blood felt as if it was boiling. The royal stand was too crowded, too many unwelcome faces and bodies suffocating you. The noise of horses and knights preparing to show off for your favor made your ears ache. Unbearable, that was the best way you could describe your current predicament.
The fainting spell was enough to have your mother confine you to chambers. She knew, your brothers knew, the Hightowers knew, everyone in the entire keep could see through you both. At every single turn you were specifically swayed far away from your uncle. Absolutely no contact, especially since you were to be married.
That’s what the entire day was for, to celebrate you being sold off to a son of Dorne. If the heat in King’s Landing doesn’t kill you first, then surely the sun there will do the job. You hoped your death would come sooner rather than late.
If the day could not go any worse the sound of someone taking a seat next to you caused you to flinch. You could smell him, practically taste the wine emitting off of him. Then there was the seat to your left, the scent of flowers filled your nose. Your eyes stayed glued to your hands. You didn’t dare move or breathe…
A gentle hand that was as soft as a feather pillow touched yours. “Don’t be nervous.” Helaena, of all the people in the world you did not expect her to say such. Especially now, since you were separating husband and wife or did, they purposely do this to torment you further? “If I’m sitting in your place I can move, princess.”
You kept your head turned to her, trying your hardest to ignore the one sitting far too close to your right. Where was your mother? Your brothers? Where was your family to rescue you? “Nonsense! I purposely asked Jacaerys to let me sit next to you.” To the right, you could feel two violet eyes burning holes into the back of your skull.
“How lovely,” you muttered out trying to find your family from the corner of your eyes. How in the seven hells was he next to you? You turned your body towards the crowd, an invisible shield in your mind blocking you from turning the other way.
Behind you, your entire family was in the row above staring daggers into Aegon. Of course, he stole Lucerys seat before he had a chance to protest. The sound of trumpets blaring, and the weakened voice of your grandsire distracted you, momentarily from the hell you were living in.
A warm and soft hand was placed over your own. Dragging your nails from tarnishing the skin around them. “Afraid your husband to be is going to lose?” It felt as though a bolt of lightning shot down your back. You bit your lip, no you wanted him to lose and potentially be stabbed in a duel. You actually want to be stabbed too right now.
Milk of the poppy was your savior. That’s what had been prescribed to keep you grounded. It’s why you’re not currently on the floor unconscious. It's why you decided to engage in conversation instead of keeping your mouth shut. It's why you let his hands caress your own and bask in the warmth they provided. It wasn’t you; it was the medication.
“Why aren’t you participating in the tourney?” You could feel a smile curve onto his face, though you swore not to look. “Why would I? Do you want me to compete for your favor?” You turned to look at him, shocked by the accusation you would want him of all people competing for you. That was a fantasy of children, a dead one at that.
A mistake was made when you glanced at him. Gods, he was beautiful in the most pathetic way possible. The dark circles, the smug smile, the unruly hair, the piercing eyes and the jaw with just a tad of baby fat encompassing it. You forgot his lady wife sitting next to you, you forgot your family watching you. For a moment, it was just you looking at the pretty monster who ruined you. A shimmer of hope, a memory of childhood championship bubbled to the surface.
“No Aegon, I think you would lose,” you jested. His eyes sparkled; his subtle grin turned into a wide blinding smile. “I think I already have your favor.” Your mouth parted to speak, cheeks brimming red from the implication.
Down below the sounds of cracking shields and screams of pain stifled by armor were becoming the loudest noise. A Blackwood had just begun a duel with a Bracken and… his entrails were staining the tan colored sand a dark shade of crimson. You felt bile rising up in your throat as you unconsciously tightened your drip on Aegon’s hand. An act that didn’t go unnoticed and was quickly returned.
“Not a fan of bloodshed?” His voice sounded softer, almost kind versus his usual unserious tone. He was staring at the side of your face and his eyes shone with mild concern combined with amusement. Aegon was always one for violence, not you. By no means were you against it, seeing the insides of someone’s stomach simply didn’t suit your fancy.
“And the day grows ugly…” Helaena let out a deep sigh as she gazed at the scene below. Her voice made you quickly realize how disrespectful you were being towards their marriage. In a second, your hand was ripped out of his grasp and placed firmly on your lap. Avoid, you avoided both of their looks and your gaze moved strictly forward.
You could have sworn you saw a flash of Aemond’s eyepatch and his fingers patting at her knee. Oddly enough, you were very suspicious of brother and sister relationships considering the family you were born into. Thank heavens you were amongst the normal ones… almost.
“You’re not wrong, Hel. You’re not wrong.” Aegon’s voice had lost all its original sympathetic tone as his lips formed into a pout like a spoiled brat. “Princess! Your favor would surely help me win this tournament if you could be so kind.”
The sound of your fiancés voice made you want to sink into the abyss of your mind and let it swallow you. Maybe even feed yourself to Vhagar much like your late aunt Laena did. Aegon looked worse, enraged and annoyed to the utmost level.
His body moved slowly towards your fiancée, and you swore if looks could kill he would be dead. You didn’t flinch or falter this time. You no longer frowned at the sight of the man you were supposed to marry. In fact, you were bubbling with joy.
The second Martell son held a huge smile while he waited for you to place your favor on his lance. You did your best to make a spectacle out of it, wishing him luck as loudly as you could. Your mother was smiling proudly, surely congratulating herself on a fine match she had made.
She didn’t understand, you weren’t happy because of him. You were happy to see Aegon leaking envy from his pores with the most miserable look on his face. Now he was feeling exactly what you did and it felt fucking fantastic. You gracefully sat back in place with a smile that went ear to ear.
“Would you like to place a bet on who will win, uncle?” He shifted in place, his eyes following the black mare your fiancée rode. “I don’t intend on betting coins, niece.” An awfully smug look creeped onto his face. “What are we betting?”
Aegon leaned into you, so his mouth nearly brushed over your ear. His breath was heavy and laced with confidence. His whispers sent a shiver up your spine that glued you in place. “If Gwayne Hightowers knocks your beloved husband off his horse I get to claim you in front of everyone.”
“…”
Your breath hitched in your throat as the world paused. Heat rose from the tips of your toes to the very top of your head, radiating in all directions. The drugs were no longer keeping your very unstable emotions at bay. Your cheeks were not just flushed by the idea but from the crushing reminder he was not yours to claim. He was stolen from you and didn’t mind until you showed back up. No letters, no secret rendezvous, no gifts on name days or holidays… To Aegon it was always just a game.
A game he was still fucking playing at your own expense. Could he not see he had done enough? He had ruined what sliver of self-respect you had years ago? What else was there for him to take besides your life. Your original despair turned into something hateful, “My husband will win and when he does you have to stay away from me for as long as I’m here.”
His mouth hung agape as he was trying to debate this completely unfair bet. Aegon was going to make a jest, defend himself or anything really before the trumpets blared loud enough for the deaf to hear. “Hmph,” you turned in your seat, stone faced, chin held high, completely ignoring his presence to watch the knights begin to mount their horses.
Ser Gwayne Hightower was wearing a suit of armor and a green cape. Gwayne’s helm was in the shape of a lantern… It looked completely ridiculous. His horse wasn’t stupid, it was a powerful white charger, and his lance appeared to be held firmly in his grip. From all the stories you’ve heard, he was an amazing knight. He’d won many tourneys in the past and nearly knocked down Daemon once.
Your fiancée was on the other side, and he certainly did stand out… The golden decor on his armor was perhaps a bit much and he refused to wear a helm. His horse was beautiful albeit not as powerful as the charger. It wasn’t looking very good.
You were too busy praying to the seven for mercy when the two horses took off. In a flash their lances connected, and poor Quentyn was nearly thrown off. You heard a snicker from the corner, and you whipped your head to stare at the smirk plastered all over Aegon’s face. “Heh look at that!” No fucking way, no way in the names of any god would he get to do anything with you. “Fuck you, uncle,” the venom laced words seeped out of your mouth before you could contain them. Your perfect facade was beginning to break so quickly.
“That can be arranged.” You gritted your teeth and your nostrils flared. Seeing him win in anyway made you want to snatch a sword and shove it right between his fucking…
“We have a winner!”
The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, and you forgot whatever your last thought was. You stood up from your seat to gaze at the ground and surely enough…
“Quentyn Martell has won the favor of the Princess!”
Heh heh heh…. You turned to look at him with a smirk only the divine could wear, “I win.”
He miss stepped, Aegon had completely misread the situation at hand. Her mind had been completely poisoned by those… those cunts! And Gwayne completely fumbled the fucking tourney. This added more layers to the issues already at hand. Firstly, her husband needed to go and fast. Secondly, he had to untaint her mind. Thirdly, how the hell was he going to keep her here with him? Aegon only had a single day and night to do it…
CRASH
Another empty goblet of wine was thrown into the wall. The small shards covered the floor like winter snow tainted by red droplets of wine. The prince was raging and drinking… ceaselessly. “For the love of the seven will you sit down!” Aemond watched unamused, on the edge of storming out himself at this display. It was getting annoying how easily irritated his brother was becoming. Aegon stomped across, “We have to kill him… Preferably sooner rather than late.”
“We could tell the truth about her virtue and have a Septon annul the marriage… avoid making any unnecessary enemies.” Aegon pivoted to stare at Aemond, face void of any signs of agreement. “Yes, and besmirch her reputation in the process… Ha! That will surely make her crawl into my bed.”
Aemond really fucking hated sarcasm above all forms of conversation. “Oh, great manipulative tactician, what exactly were you thinking?” His steps paused as he toyed with the knife he kept on belt. He wasn’t a genius nor was he overly capable of manipulation like his grandfather…
“It can only work if she is obsessed with me again.” The younger brother let out a groan, rubbing his face with both his hands. “What exactly are you planning to do?”
A wicked smirk curled its way onto his lips. His pupils momentarily turned dark, “Not I, dear brother, what are you going to do.” Aemond lowered his hands, so his eye picked through, raising an eyebrow.
—
“This won’t do,” Rhaenyra declared as she tossed another necklace laced with jewels onto the floor of your chambers. “Mother!” you gaped as the expensive piece fell to the floor. She pursed her lips together, fingers grazing the delicate jewelry laid before you. “My first born, my only daughter is getting married… Tacky crystals won’t do.” You sunk deeper into your chair, twirling your wet hair in between your fingers.
Rhaenyra closely examined a few more pieces, none of which suited her exquisite taste. She turned to you, her eyebrows creasing together. “You look more pale than usual.” You looked up at her and her eyes were laced with concern. One thing about your mother is that you could never lie to her. She knew you more than you knew yourself. The slightest bit of discomfort she could snuff out and exile it from your mind.
“I haven’t been sleeping well as of late.” Her gentle hands went to comb through your hair. “If you changed your mind and don’t wish to get married, I could always have Daemon, take care of it.” You choked up a laugh, “threatening murder on my wedding day? How very festive.”
A small smile made her lips curve upwards. She let out a breath, plucking a necklace off the counter and holding it to your neck. “Is it him?” The dragon necklace made of diamonds laced with gold details seemed to taunt you. “No, he hasn’t bothered me at all.” A bold-faced lie that your mother could see through instantaneously. Rhaenyra wrapped the necklace around your throat and clasped it in the back. “Really? He seemed to bother you at the tourney.”
The necklace seemed to be choking you though it wasn’t tight at all. It would have been something you wore if you were getting married to him instead. A golden dragon paying homage to Sunfyre… “Just playful banter. Honestly it went far better than expected.”
She looked as if she was about to contest what you said but three knocks at the door caught both your attention. It slowly creaked open revealing a maid no older than fifteen. She stood meekly in the entrance shifting eyes between your mother and yourself.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you; the king requested your presence.” Your mother raised her brow, questioning the situation at hand. You gave a nearly unnoticeable nod, reassuring her everything was all right. She clapped her hands together, “You’re not disturbing anyone! My love I’ll return shortly.”
Rhaenyra strided out the door with the confidence only a queen could possess. You envied the way she carried herself no matter the situation. You slumped back down into your chair staring at yourself in the grandiose mirror. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having Daemon rid you of your husband… If anything, he would probably take pride in having something to hold over your head.
But a war was brewing, it was an inevitable fact that no one could deny and soon it would be impossible to ignore. You needed the dornish alliance, and you were the perfect bargaining chip… Curse the seven for making you a woman.
“You look like you’re in agony. Already getting the wedding blues?” It’s no use asking how he snuck in, it’s no use asking why he was here, and it’s absolutely no fucking use to start panicking. “Uncle, I thought we had an agreement.” His steps were light, almost frolicking to stand behind your seat in front of the vanity. Aegon’s face was the ideal image of serenity, you couldn’t say the same for yourself.
“It’s your wedding day! Surely, I can offer my congratulations on this joyous day.” There wasn’t an honest way you could describe the pain within your chest. It felt as if a blade had carved a hole within your heart that refused to heal. A dark abyss threatening to swallow you whole. He wasn’t meant to be happy; you were supposed to be cheery. Aegon was meant to pin after you until he died… Not move on and get married, have children, and celebrate your own wedding.
You didn’t feel the tears quietly falling from your eyes or the way your lip was quivering. His hand moved to graze your shoulder, but you jumped out of your seat, snapping your head back to face him. “Don’t touch me!” He put his hands up in mock surrender, “W-woah…”
“Did you come here to torment me some more? Do you revel watching me be so miserable?” He stumbled back, muttering some incoherent apology that fell on deaf ears. “You abandoned me! You left me like a dog and went to go playhouse with your perfect fucking family, perfect fucking wife and two perfect children.”
One of the many things you were shouting must have triggered something within him. Aegon grabbed your shoulders with such force you almost buckled under their grip. He shook you like a child would shake their pet if it stopped listening. “Perfect? Have you become fucking delusional? What part of a forced marriage to your sister sounds perfect to you?!”
“Let me go! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You shouted in between sobs. “No! You’re telling me you’ve been ignoring me for years because you’re fucking jealous?” You swatted at his face, attempting to grab him by his hair to pull him down. Poor idea, Aegon always thought violence was exciting. Somewhere amidst the fight you ended up wrestling on the ground shouting curses at one another.
“I hate you! I would never be jealous of you!” Aegon shiftly straddled you and began fighting to grab your wrists again. To make it all the more unbearable the bastard was smiling. “Bullshit! It’s seeping off of you.” You bit down on his hand that came just a little too close to your mouth. He growled, slamming on wrists behind your head. “Seven hells will you calm down and listen!”
You writhed underneath him, albeit with less screams of curses. This rather pathetic display went on for only another minute before he forced his lips onto yours. It was rough, mainly teeth clashing together and lips fighting against one another. Part of you wished it could continue, to relive your past one more time before you were sold off.
The other part of you bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Aegon relented, a droplet of blood staining his swollen bottom lip. Whatever spell he had put on you had worked; you were quiet and unusually still. “Look at me.” You turned your head to face the wall, refusing to be trapped by those damned eyes. “Look at me!” Begrudgingly, after being shouted at, you looked at him. “My marriage is not happy. I swear on my own life I only bedded her once. I was so drunk I can’t even remember if it truly happened…”
“More lies… You have two children.” He scoffed, looking around the room as if asking the seven for patience. “Oh, for the love of- Do you really think those are mine? Just look at them!” Aegon appeared unbelievably desperate for you to believe him. His eyes frantically searching yours for any comfort…
The twins did appear more similar to one brother than the other… Jaehaera herself was a spitting image of Helaena only. “I don’t believe you…” His face dropped as if you had taken an arrow to his heart. “But it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’m getting married tonight.” A foolish course of action on your part because you gave him hope. A dangerous thing if given to the wrong people and he was by far the wrong person.
He pressed his mouth against you once more, this time his soft lips caressed your own gently. The taste of wine and iron coated your tastebuds, and it wasn’t at all displeasing. It was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. He pulled his right hand away from your wrist, almost giving you time to escape. But the second your arm moved he grabbed it with his left. A gentle, almost comfortable, kiss was turning into a desperate one.
Aegon’s tongue slid into your mouth doing circles with your own. Your breaths quickened as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and then kissing it before letting go again. His hands slid down to your thighs, cupping them firmly in his warm palms and massaging their shape. You shivered when his fingers brushed against your most sensitive area, it had been so long since anyone had touched you.
The wedding you were supposed to be attending today became a distant memory as he kissed you senseless. His lips trailed across your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his nose grazed yours again you found yourself trembling with need.
“You have missed me,” he whispered breathlessly. You wanted to say no, that your body was betraying you but when his fingers grazed your unclothed cunt all you could mutter was “ah, ah, ah~”
His tongue flicked out and traced up the side of your neck, then back down. He slipped his tongue inside of your ear, and then swallowed down all of your words. His fingers began gently teasing at your clit, sliding between your wet folds, rubbing it painstakingly slow. You whimpered into his mouth, begging him to do more.
Aegon wasn’t supposed to give it all to you so easily but… Forcing in a few fingers was far from all he could do. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of your slick folds, making sure to tease your clit each time. His eye had a wicked gleam to them watching you come undone underneath him, “you think you’ll be happy with another man? You think he’ll be able to please you like I do?”
You opened your mouth but all that came out was a muffled cry. “No one knows your body like I do. No one can ever please you like I do.” His fingers moved swifter curling up to hit the sweet spot inside of you. Your legs buckled around him as you began to moan ceaselessly. A wicked smile took over his features, “be honest with yourself everytime you try to fuck another man you’ll be imagining me, my lips, my tongue, my fingers and my cock inside of you.”
Your arms fell limply by your sides, the world spinning in circles as a delicious haze descended upon you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his fingers as he continued to push them deeper inside of you. “I’ve already ruined you, what other man could want you? Who do you belong to? Say it!”
“Y-You! Aegon! I belong to you.” You cried out in pleasure, your voice echoing through the room. He pressed his lips against you once more, swallowing all the noises you made as your cunt tightened around his thick fingers. “That’s a good little girl,” He purred as your orgasm washed over you.
“Aegon…” You breathed, your head lolling to the side as he pulled his fingers out of your quivering pussy. He sat up, face returning to its usual expression of complete nonchalant. “I’ll give you time to get all dressed up, recite vows you do not mean with a stranger, dance until your heart's content and then I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine.”
He leaped off of you swiftly, lazily fixing his hair and wiping the blood from his mouth. You propped yourself up on your elbows, “What in the seven hells?” Aegon smiled at you, but it wasn’t one of genuine joy. It was sick with cruel eyes behind it. “You’ll see.”
The seeds of doubt had been planted into your mind and had already begun to sprout. The once joyous occasion was quickly turning into a fucking nightmare. To be Frank, you really wish you were dead instead of standing up here reciting vows you did not mean. It was awkward, unbelievably awkward. For five years your beloved had been pining for you and you were too blind to see it.
Or it was all a sick joke being played on you. Which one was worse you did not know. Your entire family stood there, smiling, your mother nearly on the verge of tears seeing her only daughter preparing to start a family of her own… Gods, is this how Aegon felt all these years knowing he was the disappointment? You had been completely soiled and yet here you stand with your new husband… Aegon’s scent and markings weren’t even fully off of you!
The entire ceremony was eerily calm. No random bursts of violence or protests to your union. Which means your uncle may or may not intend to murder and or maim this man tonight. Any sound of mind woman would be sick at the thought and run for aid… Obviously you were not at all that type of girl. Currently you were jumping out of your skin waiting for him to finally arrive and rescue you.
The only issue was, he never did show up. Not for the first kiss, not for the first dance, not for the speech his father was barely able to make or the feast itself… Did he intend to ignore you until it was all over?
____________________________________
Aegon was unbelievably late to the wedding celebration. It was on purpose; he had a few loose strings he needed to tie before he arrived. For once he was sober and painstakingly polite as he walked in. It is fair to mention he had the servants meticulously fix his normal disheveled appearance so he could make an impression on you.
When Aegon first entered the great hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a grand table adorned in the finest gold sits on a raised dais. The royal table is flanked on either side by rich red tapestries, ornately embroidered with the sigils of the houses respectively. If only he could burn all of the dornish banners with Sunfyre.
As he moved throughout the room, Aegon was struck by the attention to detail. Everywhere you looked, you saw the sign of the union between two powerful houses, a testament to the joyous occasion for which this room has been decked out. It was fucking disgusting and Aegon wanted to puke on it.
The throne room was filled to the brim with Lords and Ladies alike from all across the realm. In the center, just in front of the throne sat the royal table. On the opposing sides of the room were the packed tables for the highly esteemed guests. The middle of the room was cleared for dancing and eventually the marriage itself…
He wished he could throw himself into the spikes of the throne. Instead, he had to slither his way through the crowds to make way to the table. Aegon was tired of waiting, He was tired of hearing your family gawk at the well-made match and he was especially tired of doing nothing. Your husband would be dealt with in due time, but he hadn’t the patience to pretend not to be itching to speak to you, to touch you, anything but sit here and fucking watch.
He finally pulled himself up onto the podium and marched his way in front of you. You seemed stunned, miserable, in awe of his beauty. All of which were better than you being happy to be wed. "I'm insulted you have yet to ask me to dance, uncle." His lips twisted into his usual overly confident smile. “didn’t want to disturb the happy couple so soon.”
Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you stuck out your hand waiting for him to take it. There were stares from certain people of course, those who knew what happened at Driftmark and potentially before. You didn’t really care anymore.
For a moment, he was the perfect gentleman. Placing his hands in only the proper places and spinning you around the floor with ease. If you were a normal family, this would be a sweet interaction between relatives… But you were twisted and Targaryens. “You know, I’m putting more effort into this dance than my own wedding.” You scoffed, “Oh joy, surely no one will find this suspicious at all.”
Aegon’s face mirrored disgust as he glanced around you. “Is something the matter?” He rolled his eyes, "Your dearly beloved is gawking." You stood on your tiptoes to glance over his shoulder. Surely enough, the pretty dornish prince was smiling ear to ear watching you…"Do something about it."
The mischievous look Aegon always wore as a child made its reappearance. It was quick, his hands grasping onto your face and pulling you so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You would let me dishonor you in front of all these people, bad princess.” You whined trying to lean up into his face, but he pulled back, “tsk tsk, can’t let your husband see you so needy for my affection now, can we?”
You wished he would stop referring to him as your husband. You wished he would stop reminding you of what waited for you after the night ended. “Sister… Prince Aegon.” Jacaerys appeared from behind like a thief in the night. Immediately souring any positive mood Aegon could have been in. He stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Nephew.” He gritted through his teeth with a subtle bow.
“Princess, would you dance with me?” You glanced between the two and felt the humiliation of the situation beginning to seep in. Your mother was on the high podium with a faux smile and a death grip on her fork observing you… “Of course! Let’s go little brother.”
The dance was alright… But you couldn’t get your mind off of the Lannister girl who was practically drooling at the sight of Aegon. He had slept with her before you knew this much. A secret part of you kept track of the whores he buried his cock inside, at least the rich ones. What happened next was honestly a blur, you couldn’t remember a thing. Except that you may or may not have called her a whore and threatened her life if she dared to touch him… She scurried away with her hands on her and tears in her eyes.
You weren’t jealous at all, only defending Helaena’s honor.
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“Prince Aegon, pleasure to finally meet you,” If the night couldn't get any better the man of the hour had just willingly approached the man plotting against him… “Prince Quentyn, nice of you to believe this is a pleasure.” He smirked, “Your wife looks very beautiful.” Aegon patted his shoulders, “as does yours.”
Quentyn winced, a rather noticeable scowl growing on his face. “She’ll never be yours, my prince.”
“You’ll see later tonight whose name she calls out while your cock is inside her.” He smiled a crooked grin. Quentyn’s fists balled up next to his sides, Aegon wasn’t one to directly fight, he was more behind the scenes type of criminal. There was no denying that he was strong, strong enough to crack this man’s skull. But that wasn’t part of the plan… His feet moved fast, swiftly connecting his fist to Aegon’s jaw.
The crowd erupted behind them, lords and ladies screaming trying to escape the violence. Suddenly, Aegon stopped trying to attack and let the dornish cunt take charge. He tackled him to the ground and landed hit after hit… Was this really worth it, he thought to himself as blood started to trickle down his face. “You- fucking- wastrel-” Aegon was laughing hysterically whilst getting his face beat in… All according to plan, he told himself.
“Get off of him!” You screeched in horror pulling at the man assaulting your lover. It wasn’t meant to take a turn like it did. Quentyn, not recognizing you, turned and landed a hit square to your cheek knocking you on your ass. “Protect the princess!” Some guard shouted from behind whilst dogpiling onto your husband. He stared in horror at what he had done, you were gripping your cheek mortified, and Aegon was laying there covered in blood laughing his ass off like a psychopath.
The maester was applying ice to your cheekbone as you nervously picked at the seams on your dress. “We’ll have the marriage annulled by tomorrow.” Rhaenyra paced inside the room. “On what grounds? Aegon was obviously egging him on,” Jacaerys groaned from the corner. “I could kill him and fix this entirely,” Daemon muttered watching his wife rage on.
The rest of the argument was drowned out, the only noise you could hear was the sound of Aegon’s jaw cracking. You didn’t feel despair that the wedding was ruined, you didn’t feel depressed that your husband had hit you… No, you felt completely fucking enraged.
Seeing Aegon harmed had awoken something in you. It was hateful and could not be quelled by a simple apology. He fucking beat him to a pulp in the midst of your wedding then had the audacity to lay a hand on you… It may or may not have awoken something because seeing Aegon laughing whilst covered in his own blood made your core heat up.
“Could I be given some milk of the poppy for the pain, mother?” Rhaenyra looked at you with the most sorrowful expression she could muster, “oh my sweet girl.” She cupped your cheeks in her hands and rubbed at the bruise that was forming. “Go fetch some tea for my daughter, Maester… Now!”
____________________________________
You were returning to your chambers in a rather dumbed down state. The medicine made your mind hazy, and your body feel light as a feather. It was like wine but far better with less of a hangover. The corridors were dark, all the excitement from tonight was far over. You hummed to yourself lazily, dreading the return to where your husband lay. Until you felt a hand wrap around your mouth and yank you into a hole in the wall you never knew was there.
You tried to scream but were quickly shushed by a voice that could only belong to one man. “Aegon? What are you doing?” He smiled at you, rubbing the bruise on your cheek. “Will you go out for a walk with me?” You raised your eyebrow in distrust, “To where?” Aegon grinned, almost too enthusiastically to trust, “the dragonpit.”
The most unexpected event of tonight wasn’t the wedding brawl nor the injury that befall you. It was the fact you were riding on Sunfyre again, with Aegon holding onto your waist as you soared through the stars. It was a wedding gift, he claimed. As far as you knew Aegon never let anyone touch his dragon let alone ride with him, except you.
It was indescribable, the feeling of the wind rushing past your cheeks. The view of the city and the moon shining above you reflecting off his scales. You were giggling uncontrollably the entire flight listening to Aegon tell jests you hadn’t heard in years. Whatever injury he had gained was long forgotten the second you took off. Whatever drama or chaos in the keep didn’t exist outside. In the sky, you both were completely free.
You couldn’t say how long you spent outside. Mayhaps it was an hour or two before Sunfyre descended onto a nearby beach surrounded by the most beautiful rock formations you had seen. “Is this your version of bridenapping me?” You teased while he helped you climb down the saddle. “It’s only kidnapping if you fight back.”
He grasped your hand leading you across the sandy beach, showcasing the stars he supposedly, desperately wanted to show you. “I have an actual gift for you too.” You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is it a ride home on Sunfyre?” Aegon laughed, genuinely laughed for the first time since you’ve returned. He dug in his pocket searching for something… “I had it made years ago but never had the chance to properly give it to you.”
In his hand was the most beautiful golden ring in the shape of a dragon. “A ring? A Sunfyre ring?” Aegon grabbed your hand and slipped it on with ease, “I’m not that creative, you know this. it was meant to be something to remember me by when you left.” Tears were prickling your eyes once more. The fool kept the damned ring all these years and never mentioned it. “Aegon… Be honest for once with me please. Do you still love me?”
He paused, searching tirelessly for the right words to say. “I… There hasn’t been a day in five years where I haven’t thought about you at least once. There hasn’t been an hour that something has not reminded me of you. There hasn’t been a single night I’ve slept without seeing you… It isn’t normal, it’s twisted and sick and cruel just like I am. No matter what you do to others, to me, to yourself. No matter if the world ends in a freeze or we are in the midst of a war of the ages… I believe I’ll always feel this… And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until the seven hells take me.”
You sniffled; he always had such a roundabout way of saying things. “I’ll always love you too.” He smiled genuinely, pulling you into a kiss so gentle yet so firm it made you forget all the dangers of the world, the drama, the potential war, your husband, everything was irrelevant except for you two, right now under the stars.
“We still haven’t done the bedding ceremony.” You whispered against his lips. His eyes lit up, “Have you always been so needy for me?” You didn’t have time to protest before he was passionately colliding his lips against yours once more. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him closer into you, making sure no part of you would ever be apart from him again.
His arms slipped below your waist as he lowered you onto the ground as gently as he could. Your legs fell open instinctively and his hands began to explore your body. It was vastly different from every other time you’ve been together. It was gentle and loving, passionate and pleasurable without the pain.
Your bodies started to move in sync with each other, stripping away the clothes that hid your most intimate parts. His hands held you close to his chest, keeping you warm while you were exposed to the elements. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him passionately with a hunger you had forgotten existed.
He broke the kiss, gasping for air. You opened your eyes to see the moonlight reflected off his face, sometimes Aegon Targaryen looked more God than man. He moved to suckle on your neck as he ran his length against your slit.
“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured huskily against your ear. He slowly pushed inside, filling you with his thickness. You gasped from the sudden sensation. He was so deep within you, so far reaching you almost felt like you could reach out and touch the stars.
His kisses trailed down your neck, nibbling, sucking, biting. He took his time thrusting inside of you with slow movements, appreciating every moment your bodies were entertained. He stopped mid-thrust, holding himself deep within you.
“I love you, Princess.” He whispered, his voice so tender and soft. You blushed like a child; it was silly to think his cock being inside you didn’t make you feel as embarrassed as him telling you, his feelings. “Always.” You murmured back. He kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping past your teeth.
You clung tight to his neck, your nails digging into his skin. He moved faster, his breaths coming in shorter and quicker. You moaned, your thighs trembling from the feeling of fullness. His fingers traced circles on your inner thigh, and then he moved to your clit.
He worked you effortlessly, eliciting soft whimpers and moans and love confessions. The world was a blur of fluorescent colors and smells, nothing mattered but you and Aegon. His climax came swiftly, almost right after your own. You begged for him to cum inside you, to fill you with his seed and he always did as you asked.
He collapsed on top of you, his weight heavy on your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling him relax. “Aegon…” You spoke his name softly, your head resting on his shoulder. “Mhmm?” He said in a daze. “Again?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his neck. He smirked, his cock twitching inside of you.
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#aegon ii targaryen#aegon targaryen#aegon the usurper#aegon the elder#aegon ii#aegon x reader#aegon x y/n#aegon x you#aegon fic#aegon fluff#aegon smut#aegon ii fluff#aegon ii smut#aegon ii x you#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii x y/n#aegon ii fic#hotd fic#house of the dragon
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chapter six — j.f. ( masterlist )
THIS IS ME TRYING.
“and my words shoot to kill when i’m mad
i have a lot of regrets about that.”
taglist: @jellybassett @glowingtree @always-reading @yla-aira @infinitywarnatenthusiast @imogen-skye @ilovegilmoregirls @lucidlivi @rubydubytuby @creepynativekid @miniemonie2001 (comment or message me to join!)
you sat alone in your room for a while, attempting to calm yourself down. it really seemed stupid after a while, honestly. jeremiah was probably just trying to be nice, and she might find someone else to bring her anyways. it wasn’t something you had to freak out about.
jeremiah knocks on your door after almost an hour.
“come in,” you call out. you’re laying in your bed, aimlessly scrolling on your phone. jeremiah comes in and smiles at you softly, then takes a seat on the edge of your bed.
“moms are back,” he says. “storms pretty much let up now, but they’re still trying to figure out the power.”
“that’s good,” you reply. he studies your face.
“is everything okay? you…left kinda abruptly.”
you look down at your hands. “oh, uh, yeah. i just…i don’t know.”
“what is it, (y/n)?” jeremiah asks, his tone serious. you look up at him.
“are you seriously going to be belly’s escort?”
he flinches. “oh. that. yeah, i think so. i mean… she told me that apparently conrad asked to be her escort but he’s been so shitty to her lately i just figured that i would do something nice for her. why not, right?”
“yeah, sure,” you say dismissively, rolling your eyes up to the ceiling. “why not?”
“what’s the problem, (y/n)?” he asks genuinely. you sigh and shake your head.
“why is she the exception for you, jeremiah?” you ask. “why, out of everyone, is she the exception?”
he stares at you, confused. “what the hell are you talking about?”
“every single time a debutante ball has ever been brought up you’ve sworn to never be an escort in your life. why is now your one exception?”
“why does it matter?” he asks. “i care about belly. of course i’m going to do something nice for her. why are you so mad about it?”
“are you kidding?” you ask, anger suddenly rising in your chest. “do you not remember when i was going to be a debutante last year?”
“(y/n), what does that have to do with me?”
“the day we sat down at dinner and i said that i was thinking about being a debutante. you immediately sat there and scoffed, and said that debutante balls were terrible and you would never be an escort,” you shake your head. “i gave up on being a debutante after that.”
jeremiah’s voice dropped. “but, why? why did my opinion matter to you? you had so many guys who would have been your escort.”
“you were the only person i would even consider asking, jeremiah,” you blurt out, and he lifts his head in surprise.
“what?”
“i genuinely cannot believe that you don’t know this already,” you run your hand through your hair. “i wanted to be your exception, jere. i would’ve loved to be a deb if you were my escort. but you couldn’t stand the idea of being my escort, could you?”
“(y/n), if i had known…” he trails off. you shake your head.
“whatever, okay?” you say. “it doesn’t matter anymore. i’ve moved on from it.”
“you could have told me,” he says.
“you really don’t get it, do you?” you ask. “you made it such an obvious point to bring that up in that moment. you knew what you were doing, jeremiah. you didn’t think of me the same way. it’s whatever. be belly’s escort. she deserves to have someone who cares about her.”
“why do you just assume i was trying to hurt you?” he asks, his tone suddenly defensive. “why couldn’t it have been an honest mistake, that i didn’t realize you thought of me like that?”
“what do you want me to think, then? that you tried to hurt me or that you’re blind?”
“you’re being ridiculous.”
“ridiculous? really?” you scoff. “how more obvious could i have fucking been? the last three summers i have done nothing but basically throw myself at you and you just—“
“no!” he yells, suddenly standing up from your bed. “no, (y/n), you don’t get to do this! you came here this summer with a boyfriend and didn’t tell me! we got so close this past year and you never fucking told me you had a boyfriend, so i walked in to this summer stupidly thinking that now was our time for something to happen. then you drop that fucking bomb on me and expect everything to be normal? you cannot call me blind when all summer you’ve been the one pretending that everything is as it’s always been.”
“jeremiah, you’re literally not listening to me,” you reply, mirroring his frustrated tone. “everything is as it’s always been to me because you’ve always treated me like this! you’ve always acted like i was so special and then walked away from me into the nearest arms of some other guy or girl! you’ve never made your feelings clear. i’m so fucking sorry that me getting a boyfriend ruined all of your plans for us that i was never a part of.”
“you’re such a fucking hypocrite,” he groans, running his hand through his hair. “you’ve always done the same thing! neither of us have ever expressed our feelings to the other. you cannot place all of this on me!”
“whatever, jeremiah,” you say, not looking at him. “whatever makes you feel good about yourself.”
he stands there and stares at you for a moment before turning around and leaving your room, slamming the door behind him. for what felt like forever, you sat motionless, staring at the door behind him. your mind was racing. jeremiah fisher just admitted he has feelings for you. that was a conversation you had imagined in your mind for years, but this wasn’t at all how you wanted or expected it to go. part of you hated yourself for being so harsh. maybe he truly just didn’t see the signs you gave him. maybe he talked himself out of believing them, just like you had for so long. but part of you was relieved that you got those feelings out. being in love with someone brings about positive emotions, but no one talks about the genuine resentment that goes along with the pining. as your feelings grew, so did the pain. a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. but, a new, maybe even heavier one replaced it. you just had the biggest fight of your lives with your best friend. no matter what, your friendship had to come first.
as much as you do genuinely believe that, you are still beyond pissed at him. you have so many unanswered questions that you aren’t even sure how to ask him. part of you talked yourself out of even believing that he had meant that he had feelings for you, but you had to try to ignore those thoughts, or else you knew you’d make things worse.
although it was still early in the evening, shortly after he left, you put your phone down and go to sleep. you decide that being asleep was better than having to stay up and think about that conversation. the power still wasn’t on, and it continued to rain outside for a while, the dark sky being a pretty good representation of how you were feeling. as dramatic as that seemed, it really was true. you felt so shitty. that was truly the only way to describe it. shitty and pathetic.
#jeremiah fisher#jeremiah fisher x reader#jeremiah fisher x y/n#jeremiah x reader#tsitp conrad#tsitp cast#tsitpbookseries#tsitp spoilers#tsitp belly#tsitp steven#tsitp s2#tsitp#tsitp fanfic#tsitp jeremiah#belly conklin#steven conklin#conrad fisher#the summer i turned pretty
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Jealousy Jealousy
Nanami x Sorcerer!Reader
Based on this post. This’ll be a long one. Nanami is slightly OOC.
When a new face arrives at Jujutsu Tech in the wake of the Tokyo v Kyoto affair, Nanami cannot help but to feel wary of him. And why do you seem so close to him? Just who is this guy?
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。✫・。.・゜ ✭・.
Jujutsu Tech has never had a dull day. Especially not with Gojo around. He was back from his long standing mission and Nanami couldn’t believe how amazing 8 days go by. Honestly, Nanami enjoyed every second of it. But Gojo had to come back eventually and Nanami was once again, considering if this was really the life he wanted to stick with. He took the initiative to come in a bit earlier than usual and yet, You and Gojo insist on speaking loudly, and extensively, about whatever escapades Gojo got up to while he was gone.
Right in front of Nanami’s coffee.
And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Not while Itadori needed him. Not while there were lives to save. You two however, always found a way to push him towards the edge though. Gojo was something he had come to be acquainted with, but you, Grade 1 Sorcerer (Y/N) (L/N), found a very special way to get to him.
“If I would marry anyone, it would probably be Nanami-San!”
That was the last thing you said to him before graduating all those years ago and even now you’ve stuck to it. Nanami cannot remember a single conversation in which you haven’t flirted with him or expressed the desire to marry him. And everytime he shuts you down and everytime you smile and say, “I’ll wait as long as you need me to!”
That’s not to say speaking to you was a chore. Once you get over the obligatory flirty comment, you are quite easy to have a conversation with. You aren’t pushy or handsy with him. You didn’t make any sexual or inappropriate jokes. If he asked you to not bother him, you wouldn’t. Still he couldn’t shake that annoying feeling he got when coming near you. He thought, maybe your proximity to Gojo is what makes you annoyed. That had to be it. Nanami didn’t have time to think about that, it was 8am and he was officially on the clock.
“Good morning Nanami, you look as handsome as ever.” You smiled as you poured a cup of coffee. The twinge of annoyance subsided as Nanami put the newspaper down on the table.
“Good morning (L/N).” In quick and precise movements, Nanami stood and walked towards the door.
“Why does he treat you nicer than me?” Gojo's whining voice became distant as Nanami disappeared down the hall.
Nanami didn’t actually have anywhere to be, Yuuji wasn’t due for their training until noon but it was so much better than hearing about whatever You and Gojo were talking about. 3 years had passed since you returned to Tokyo and you fell back into his life so seamlessly. You two weren’t close but you were one of his nicer upperclassmen. Nanami didn’t even notice how much you consumed his thoughts until he was stopped by Yaga.
“Oh good, Nanami-san.” Behind Yaga stood a tall man, a little shorter than Nanami, with shaggy hair and dark eyes. Yaga turned towards him, implying him to step forward. The man let out an awkward chuckle and stuck his hand out.
“Nice to meet you! I’m Hasegawa Ryosuke.”
Nanami shook the man’s hand and introduced himself. Yaga spoke again, “Would you mind giving Hasegawa a tour of the school? I’d like to have him familiar before the students start class.”
“Sorry about this, I went to the Kyoto school and only recently came back to Japan.” Hasegawa chuckled.
As Nanami agreed, Yaga excused himself. Hasegawa assured Nanami he wouldn’t need an in depth tour, anything quick would do just fine. “To tell you the truth, I never lived in Tokyo so I got a little confused and was late.”
He was a sort of awkward man. He dresses casually and ends every sentence in a nervous laugh. Nanami could tell that he was powerful though, probably a Grade 1. He followed quietly, sparingly asking questions or inquiring about the school. By the time they finished in the courtyard the students were already arriving for their morning classes. Yuuji excitedly called out to Nanami, who greeted him, Fushiguro and Nobara as well.
“Who’s this?” Yuuji asked.
“I’m just a guest, I’m Hasegawa.” He said suddenly a bit calmer. Almost calculated. Nanami didn’t think too much of it. Many sorcerers were still iffy surrounding Yuuji and his circumstance. The sudden edge wasn’t lost on any of them as Hasegawa’s demeanor shifted back to the one he had before. “I went to Kyoto, Tokyo is always so busy.”
“Yeah it is,” Yuuji replied. Nanami cleared his throat, they both noticed that Nobara and Fushiguro also seemed to passively turn towards Hasegawa. As if they were guarding Yuuji.
“Itadori, you shouldn’t be late for class.” Nanami stated.
“We won’t be,” Yuuji called back as Nobara started to pull him and Fushiguro along. Before they could leave the courtyard a loud shriek broke out from the school.
“RYOSUKE!” (Y/N) suddenly came running out. They jumped into Hasegawa’s arms and he spun them around. “What are you doing here?!”
“I came to visit.” He laughed, still holding them up.
“And you didn’t tell me!” (Y/N) playfully hit his shoulders. They once again pull him close for a hug before Hasegawa sets them down. “Do you hate me now Ryo?”
“Hate you? The light of my life? Never.” Hasegawa grinned.
“And yet, you never call me? How am I supposed to trust you Ryo?”
“We could go get ice cream?”
“Ice Cream? Are we teenagers again?”
“I always feel so young with you (Y/N).”
“And here you go, trying to flatter me again. I’m not that easy.” You laughed as a deep blush crept across your face. Nanami felt a sudden pressure build up, like he was entirely separate from whatever world you and Hasegawa were existing in. Awkwardly standing less than three feet away from you both yet it felt like miles. The distance between you two has never been this noticeable to him before. You always felt close. Like he could look over his shoulder and you’d always be there. How could it change so suddenly?
You finally noticed Nanami standing there, stoic as always. You idly turned your body towards him, “I see you've met Ryosuke.”
“Yes, I was showing him around.” Nanami replied plainly.
“Yeah, with everything going on recently, I thought it’d be best if I familiarize myself with the place.” He replied. And the mood shifted again. That same feeling he felt when Itadori was around. You didn’t seem to notice.
“So you're in Tokyo for some time then?” (Y/N) smiled, “Gojo and I go drinking sometimes, you should come.”
“We haven’t even planned our ice cream date and you're already trying to get me drunk? You move too fast for me (Y/N).” He smirked.
You lightly hit his shoulder and turned back to Nanami, “Ignore him, he’s always like this. Would you like to come to Nanami?”
In a surprising act Nanami accepted the invitation. This caught him and You off guard. You always invited him as a formality but never thought he would agree. He was just as shocked. Something however was pulling him towards the idea. Something about Hasegawa was too alarming to let You be alone with him. Especially if he would be hanging around Jujutsu Tech. This is not the kind of person Nanami would allow himself to be careless around.
You cheered, “Great! Gojo will text you the place, we’ll go around 7!” That familiar blush deepened and somehow soothed Nanami slightly. Your presence did have that effect however. Not just to him but to those around you. It made you a good fit for being around the students so much. No wonder they favored you over Gojo (though that wasn’t a high bar to reach).
“I’ll let you know if anything comes up.” Nanami replied and excused himself.
“Thanks for showing me around!” Hasegawa called out as Nanami stepped into the building. The weight of his decision suddenly hit him as he crossed the classroom and heard Gojo’s voice. Just what did he get himself into?
#no beta we die like men#nanami kento#nanami kento x reader#nanami x black!reader#nanami x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#kento nanami
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I cannot stop thinking about infatuated Remus x reader in the library 🙏 I’m dying for a part two of their date - maybe where Remus shows reader the constellations and there’s lots of sweet fluff and vulnerability and flustered Remus <3
i can't stop thinking about them either! maybe i could make a lil mini-series out of them???? maybe. thanks for requesting, lovely! hope you enjoy!
1.6k remus x fem!reader fluff language probably completely wrong astrology information
masterlist
"Are you cold?"
You're sitting across from Remus on a blanket he stole from Lily. He's not sorry about stealing it, but he is sorry that he didn't think to steal another to wrap around you. It's the middle of December and even though you're bundled up in one of the university's merch jumpers and a puffy jacket, Remus is worried this date is his worst idea - like, ever - and that you're going to freeze to death. But despite the cold, thin air, you're smiling happily over at Remus, gloved hands wrapped around a cheap hot chocolate from the canteen and your cheeks rounded out in a smile.
You look so gorgeous, Remus thinks. Your nose has gone slightly red from the cold, and your cheeks have followed suit, but your eyes are glistening with the glow of the festive fairy lights hanging from the lampposts in the distance that line the walk ways of the university grounds. He'd really like to kiss you, he thinks. He has done. Twice, since that day in the library. It'd made his knees buckle both times. Once, leaving the pub a little tipsy and dazed, high off of the flirtatious talking and touching all night, pressed up against the wall with the smell of smoke in the air, and once more when he'd dropped you off at your flat door. That one had been sweet, much softer than the one outside of the pub. A simple goodnight followed by bashful smiles and a heartfelt promise to see each other again soon.
He doesn't kiss you, but he does rub a doting hand up and down your leg, attempting to bring some warmth to it under your thin leggings, even when you protest and promise him devotedly that you're okay. How could you not be? You're there with him, after all. Remus concedes under your assurances, moving so he's directly next to you. Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. He can smell the sweetness of your perfume, the strawberry of your shampoo, and he's so beyond grateful you've given him an opportunity to be so close to you, again.
"So, are you gonna tell me why we're out here?" You ask Remus, head turned and tilted to look up at him.
You're giving him that smile. The one that makes his chest hurt and his blood thrum in his veins. The one that he likes to believe means you're happy to be spending time with him, that you're enjoying yourself, that you'd be happy to be out here counting the blades of iced over grass just because he's there. You'd never admit it if he asked, but you know in yourself it's true. You'd sit here all night freezing your arse off with shitty canteen hot chocolate just to spend time with Remus Lupin. It's sick, honestly. Marlene would laugh at you something awful.
Remus hums, eyes flitting to your lips distractedly before he remembers himself, "The stars."
It's a poor explanation, Remus knows, but he hopes you remember your tipsy giggles, the way you'd gushed about how pretty the stars were this deep into the countryside, and how you'd love to know everything you possibly could about every last one. Well. Remus isn't good at a lot. He's constantly forgetting to remove his reds from his washing and dying all of his clothes pink, he can't cook to save his life, he can't sing, or wax poetic, but he can sure as hell lie on the freezing cold ground in the middle of December and tell you about the constellations. For goodness sakes, it's part of his degree.
The excited smile that comes over your face does absolutely nothing good for Remus' heart rate nor his sanity. He thinks you're going to drive him mad. James says it's not possible. He did, eventually, ask if your beauty could be a leading factor in Remus' inevitable death via heart attack and James confidently told him that it's simply not possible. Remus disagrees. What does he know, anyway? He's not even fully qualified, yet. Idiot.
"Ooooh," You shimmy impossibly closer to Remus excitedly, eyes alight with joy, and pull him to lay down with you.
He complies, your bodies pressed together and emulating a warmth that shouldn't be possible for the minus two degree weather. It startles Remus how right this all feels. You're here, with him. Pressed comfortably to his side, your left hand threaded through his right, puffs of cold air coming from your mouths and fading away into the night air. He'd not sure what he ever did to deserve such an opportunity, but he'll be damned if he's not going to make the most of it. Of his time with you.
"Okay, so, this one." You point to a cluster of stars directly above you both with the hand that's not interlocked with his.
Remus does his best to follow, mapping with his eyes the collection of stars you've pointed to. "That's Orion. Most visible in the UK during the winter, supposed to be January til' April, but it's a really clear night, I s'pose."
You hum to show you're listening, lips parted ever so slightly, and Remus extends his own hand, "If you follow southeast from here," he wiggles his finger and you press the index finger of yours to his, following his line with a giggle, "it leads to Sirius."
"Brightest star in the sky." You whisper, voice in awe of the bright, twinkling star just right of you both.
Remus scoffs. Hell if he'd ever forget it, he's heard his best friend proclaim it enough times. You seem to come to this realisation, too, laughing and pushing the side of your face into Remus' shoulder. He rests his head atop yours, allowing you to take the warmth and hiding place from him, continues on in his mini-astronomy lesson with a finger pointed at a new collection of stars.
"Ursa Major is over here," His voice is a quiet murmur, careful and sticky sweet, "It's like, one of the most famous in the Northern Hemisphere. It's known as 'The Great Bear'."
He looks down to find you staring at the cluster of stars with a smile he can't read. He thinks it's you realising how big the universe is, how small you and Remus are, in comparison. Remus would disagree. He thinks wherever this thing with you goes, his feelings are going to carry on throughout the entirety of the universe. He's sure of that much. And listen, he's studied an astounding amount about the universe, it's gravitational pulls, the sheer size of it, the possibility that there are more out there. He's spent hours upon hours writing thesis papers, studying the actual cold hard facts, the universe is massive. That's a simple statement in and of itself.
But Remus knows. He knows for damn well sure that he's going to fall head over heels in love with you, and he's going to make sure that love fills every single bit of the universe there is to cover. He's not an idiot, though. He's not going to tell you that on the first - official, anyway - date. He thinks maybe you're having a similar thought process, though. At least, he'd like to think.
"Do you ever think about how tiny we actually are?" Your voice is soft, awe stricken, almost, and he doesn't have to look down at you to know your kind eyes are still roaming the night sky.
He makes an amused sort of hum, lips tilting into a cocky smirk and you meet his gaze, a questioning look lingering there. "Well, no. 'Cause I'm a whopping six foot and you're five foot nothing, love."
Your eyes light up when you scoff, using your free hand to whack at his chest and Remus laughs. It's loud and it's obnoxious but you're laughing too. His eyes find yours again, soft and careful, hoping you can read just how genuine he's being when he tells you, "All the time. In the grand scheme of things, we are specks of nothingness. At least, I used to think that."
Your brows furrow, Remus reaches up to pad his thumb over the crease lines before you can even talk, "Why don't you anymore?"
Remus shrugs. Is it too sappy to admit you've singlehandedly changed his opinion on such a subject in the three weeks he's properly known you? Is that coming on too strong?
You're looking up at him, soft lips parted, waiting on an answer and Remus decides fuck it, he's not going to ever refrain from telling you how much power you have over him. "You."
"Me?"
Remus nods, the ghost of an overly fond smile on his lips as he reaches up to push a fallen strand of hair away from your face, "Yeah. How could a girl like you be anything like an insignificant speck of nothingness?"
You both preen at and shy away from his praise, his flirtatious comment, and Remus feels his heart thrashing against his ribs at the way you whine his name. He chuckles softly as crimson takes over your neck and cheeks, an obvious change from the wind bitten skin from before. He smiles cheekily, chasing the line of your sight, head dipping to meet it.
"I'm serious, you know." He tells you.
You look transfixed for a moment. Ethereal. Entirely too beautiful and enamoured with his words. He's about to kiss you when your own cheeky grin comes over your face, eyes bright as you turn to point at the sky, "No, silly," You chide jokingly, "That's Sirius."
And oh, for fucks sake, Remus is well and truly done for.
#marauders#fourmoonysasks#remus lupin#remus lupin fic#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin x reader#james potter#sirius black#lily evans#love#fluff#regulus black
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Last Twilight: Ep 12
The TL;DR of this post is just... Sincerely what the fuck?
I remember posting after Episode 1 that I was keeping a suspicious eye on the mention of the eye donation because while I do think in real life disabled people have the right to manage their disability any way they want to and would support someone's choice to get a cornea transplant, real life is not fiction and fiction is designed to pull messages and themes from. Episode 12 from almost it's first moments completely undermines two and a half month's worth of messaging about learning to accept a new reality. I don't think it is foolish of me to assume based on the set up of the first episode that Last Twilight was supposed to be an exploration of grief as told in conversation and parallel between someone who lost a loved one and someone who lost their vision.
If this story had continued in the way it started out the first half of this show, I honestly think it could have been a 10, those first few episodes I was enjoying so much I was worried it might knock out Moonlight Chicken as my favorite Aof offering. Now I have rated Last Twilight as a 3, I will never suggest it to anyone and I will never rewatch it. Why?
Because from a fictional narrative perspective, having Day gain his vision back at the end undermines the entirety of the show's messaging from the first 11 episodes. Every single lesson, every single message just absolutely obliterated by every moment of Episode 12.
Day getting his vision back right as he and Mhok get back undermines the narrative in the following ways:
Rewarding Day for managing to create a successful and happy life as a blind person (literally like "hey you graduated and ran a bookstore while blind! Congrats you get to be normal again!)
"Rewarding" Mhok by insuring that he never has to do any caregiving for Day going forward so we don't get any navigating or expectation of Mhok and Day being in a longterm inter-abled relationship
We eliminate all chances that the subject of pitying Day re-enters any future fights, meaning there is now zero risk for Day maintaining a relationship with someone he worries might infantilize or pity him
It absolves Night of any remaining guilt he may be carrying from thinking he caused the accident that made Day blind
It absolves Day of any remaining anger at Night thinking he caused the accident that made Day blind
Mhon's ableist fucking ass gets her "normal" son back the way she confided in Mhok she'd hoped for after the first failed cornea transplant
It undermines the theme of the in universe Last Twilight novel and the conversation that Day and Mhok have about Mee being turned in to a statue on the top of the mountain and how that was hopeful because her father had found a sight so beautiful he couldn't think of anywhere else Mee would need to see and instead turns the message essentially in to: "there is hope, you can be cured"
It dismantles their cute couple thing of the one palm distance which also makes the OST that they played all the fucking time completely irrelevant
And most importantly, it undermines all the growth that Day went through while processing his grief and the two, TWO separate occasions where he came to terms with his disability
And that's just the disregard for the narrative messages, giving Day his eyesight back is incredibly ableist in the case of this story because of certain ableist through-lines woven in to the entire show. Namely:
While Day is blind, there is no reciprocity of care. Mhok is always taking care of Day, I cannot think of a single instance where Day really took care of Mhok in a significant way. By focusing so much on Day, and abandoning any strong focus on Mhok's grief over losing his sister, Day is never given an opportunity to be a support system for Mhok. Which is fucking ableist. Disabled people have so many things to offer the world, and while they might have specific support needs that does not mean that they can't offer support in return.
Mhok doesn't introduce Day to his family at their graves until after Day has his vision restored, and it is only then that Mhok says he has someone to take care of him. Able-ist!
Day gets his vision back almost immediately after a conversation with his mother where she says he wants to be normal and the fight he had with Mhok is normal.
Handling the entire story this way, with the break up, and a three year time gap, and then Day having his vision restored literally hours after he and Mhok get back together does not allow for any exploration of Mhok and Day having to figure out the differences between Mhok being his caretaker and Mhok being his partner.
We shunted literally every part of Mhok's backstory completely to the side, which in and of itself is fucking ableist in my opinion because it implies that able bodied people who are caretakers for or who are in a relationship with a disabled person don't have any time for themselves, to deal with their own shit or to have their own needs because they are too busy taking care of a disabled person.
With this being, what, the first main character in a BL with blindness, you want to go for the cure route after acceptance? Like you are rewarding someone for their bravery of handling their disability instead of allowing the disabled person to remain happy and thriving in the life they have built for themselves while they continue to be blind?
I'm not blind, so forgive me if I am overstepping at any point here but in my opinion, if you want a narrative that gives Day back his eyesight, that story that not be written by a sighted person. You need blind writers, people with the lived experience having control over the story so the narrative is better able to navigate the complexity of a decision like that, to reverse a character's blindness. I just think blind people would be able to minimize how much returning someone's eyesight might come off as ableist in a story like this. Additionally going the cure route is not a choice I think anyone should be making with the first BL that focuses this heavily on blindness. This world is so fucking ableist, if you want to make a story with a disabled main character with how slim of pickings there are, it feels much more responsible and subversive to go a disability pride route.
And these are just the issues around disability in this show, I have problems with the classism in this show, I have problems with the absolute ridiculousness of Mhok and Day's breakup and their reunion. MHOK APOLOGIZES, MHOK THANKS DAY FOR BREAKING UP WITH HIM, DAY DOES NOT APOLOGIZE FOR BREAKING UP WITH MHOK OR BLOCKING HIM ON SOCIALS FOR THREE YEARS BECAUSE MHOK PITIED DAY ONE (1) TIME. I get not wanting to be pitied, I get it, but seriously it is so much less compelling to have Day just completely abandon Mhok after all of the positive experiences they've had together because he messed up once rather than reel himself back in and have an adult conversation about what happened and try to get back to a balanced state.
Anyway, fuck this show. I am so disappointed that this is Aof's last directed piece for who knows how long. He could have gone out with a bang after Moonlight Chicken and now I am just fucking thankful I won't have to see anything else from him for awhile.
#last twilight#last twilight the series#let me reiterate that real life is different than fiction#disabled people have all the right in the world to handle their disability and any associated treatments however they want#this is fiction#and fiction reaches a wide audience and therefore has a responsibility in its messaging#last twilight meta#last twilight analysis
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i just finished working boys. holy shit??/pos
mentions of show spoilers under cut
SO. welcome to my ted talk. i just finished working boys. what. the. FUCK. but like in a good way. i loved it! i watched it with my dad kinda and i was giggling the entire time. i love rob as hidgens but if hidgens was anyone else BESIDES jeff i would have honestly not felt the same about it. jeff did great in the whole thing.
also, RUTHH!!.., MY BABY💔💔 SHE DID NO WRONG. IT WAS HER DEBUT☹️ she did great and i loved the few seconds of screentime she had.
the people in the audience were also making my tism alarm go off. if i can recall it was bill, ted, officer bailey, ms mulberry, richie, grace, gerald, linda, and brenda? those are all the people i can remember. seeing richie and grace go to see ruth actually made me go crazy i love them all SO MUCH. i wanna take richie and shake him. Ted was being a little asshole as always/pos. poor bill was abandoned. AND GERALD AND LINDA? oh my god i love them. i have a love-hate relationship with linda except she doesnt know who i am and would spit on me and i love her but also need her to suffer. I wanted to take the scene where him and linda are cuddling and just stay there forever. officer bailey made me laugh but also how is that man a cop. he just handed grace the gun?? ALSO GRACE IS SO BADASS BUT SHES CRAZY?? SUPPORT WOMENS WRONGS!! she started saying sumthing about the lord and i got chills.
the dead workin boys?? that was so sick what??
LIKE?? JON ILY YOU SCARE ME SO MUCH/pos. THIS WAS A JUMPSCARE BUT A GOOD ONE.
I LOVE THIS TOO? I FOR THE LIFE OF ME CANNOT TELL WHO THIS IS BUT THEY LOOK SO SCARY AND SICK I LOVE IT
RAHH I LOVE THIS LOOK. I LOVE HOW THEY ARE ALL COMING OUT OF THE MOST UNNATURAL PLACES.
OH MARK YOU SCARE ME SO MUCH MY UNSETTLING LITTLE BABY❤️ PLEASE NEVER SHOW UP AGAIN
THIS IS SUCH A BAD ANGLE BUT ITS STILL SO GOOD?? THEY ALL LOOK SO AWESOME
IDK IF ITS ALL MAKEUP OR CGI OR A MIX BUT WHOEVER DID IT DID GREAT.
THE MUSIC WAS AMAZING. LIKE IDK IF THIS IS ON SPOTIFY OR NOT OR IF I GOTTA UPLOAD WHAT I CAN FIND PRIVATELY FOR MYSELF. STARKID I LOVE YOU.
ALSO THE UNCANNYNESS OF PROFESSOR HIDGENS LAST WORDS BEING “i cant wait to get home to my boys..” WHILE BEING SHOT AT BY GRACE. HE JUST WANTED TO IMPRESS HIS BOYFRIENDS ☹️
uhm uhm im gonna shut up now because my brain is being overwhelmed by over analyzing this but please please please talk to me about this
#starkid#workin boys#working boys#grace chasity#professor henry hidgens#professor hidgens#ruth fleming#hatchetfield#gerald monroe#linda monroe#richie lipschitz#ted spankoffski#bill woodward
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I've seen ppl talking abt it on twitter and here and I wanted to sort of contribute my thoughts towards it,
Ppl aren't 'forgetting' about qTubbo's death. It's just that the situations of qBad and qTubbo's deaths, while they had the same outcome, were completely different for multiple factors.
(This isn't targeted at the ppl who think the death is being overlooked because that's their analysis and it's totally fair. It's just that people saying that got my analyst brain drawing comparisons between the deaths and I ended up with this big wall of text so...yeah :') )
1 - The build up (from outside POVs)
With qTubbo from most Povs he just sort of... died with no clear build up. Most ppl didn't see the true extent of his self spiralling because he hid it or they just simply didn't spend a lot of time with him in order to pick up on the stuff that we the viewers picked up on. And then all of a sudden he just died with no obvious lead up (unless you watch his pov in which case there was an obvious lead up) but from outsiders who barely saw him, it just happened.
Whereas
With qBad there was a more obvious build up on other Povs, he told the ppl he loved he was dying or at least they knew that something was wrong. They knew that his death was inevitable and as much as they hate to admit it a lot of them had already come to terms with the fact that he would be gone soon. (Again unless you watch his pov the whole build up from the past few months is less obvious but it was more developed with other players before his actual death) Most Povs at least recognised that there was something wrong with the blue spreading across his face because well...it was pretty fucking obvious
2 - The way they told people
qTubbos "I'm an egg, I only have one life left." while true sounds like a joke because well... he's obviously not actually an egg. Ppl joke abt stuff like that the whole time, the Eggboyhalo joke for example or calling Foolish 'egg coded' early in the server. How were all players meant to immediately go 'ah yes, this player is definitely an egg. Yesyes, this makes perfect sense'. It's easy to see how it wasn't taken seriously by a lot of characters when only a few of them were ever given an actual explanation besides "yeah I've only got one life"
Whereas
qBads "I'm fine, don't worry about me." while actively coughing up a lung, covered in blue infection and regularly having memory issues is an obvious lie. Even if people only saw him for a couple of minutes or even seconds it was pretty damn hard to ignore the blue spreading on his body. They'd ask what it was, he'd try to avoid it or redirect them and that person was hit with an immediate red flag of 'oh, so something is wrong with Bad.' which most shelved away and didn't actively investigate but it caused many characters to express being worried about him
3 - Outward visibility
qTubbo died due to his internal issues; self doubt, lack of self worth, suicidal tendencies, etc (I feel bad writing etc but I know there were other factors I just can't remember them) which resulted in him chosing to live using the life system and later chosing to gamble his last life in a game of Russian roulette with Richas.
(None of this being clearly outwardly visible to bystanders even if he wanted them to notice)
Whereas
qBad died due to external issues; parts of his soul physically leaking out of wounds on his body which caused his body to degenerate so far that even as an immortal he couldn't hold on and stop his corporeal body from just giving out on him and forcing him to reset.
(Which was very clearly outwardly visible despite how much he tried to hide it)
4 - The methods of their return
(Honestly I think this part is what's making ppl think that qTubbo's death is being 'ignored' compared to qBads)
With qTubbo, Creation told them that in order to 'restore' him they need smth that they CANNOT craft. Creation did not elaborate further, so they have very little to work with/very little they can actually do in order to try and help him. So most players while they have expressed they want to help, they know that if they do try to help they'll be running at brick walls because they just cannot obtain what is needed and they need to just wait for Creation to show up again.
Whereas
With qBad they know he'll be back (because he's a demon and that's just how they work) and they know what they have to do. They have to wait and be patient when he does return because he might not remember them and he'll probably need pictures to remember. He told them all of this before he died.
On one hand you have qTubbo: Wait for a prompt from Creation or an NPC to help them craft the item to get him back
On the other you have qBad: Wait for him to come back on his own terms
And for the people used to Bad providing a metaphorical example to prove his point in a clearer manner;
When playing a video game you have more hope when waiting for a loading wheel to stop spinning so you can play the level, than you do looking at a level blocked behind a currently unobtainable paywall :/
In other words, dwelling on things you don't know how to fix sucks ass and no one likes thinking about it until they have a tangible idea for a solution and right now only one of the two deaths has an even remotely tangible solution even if it is just to wait and do nothing.
(I understand that ppls reactions to qBads death have seemed more proactive than qTubbos right now but today was the first qBagi and Em learned of him actually dying so it makes sense that today was sort of centered around that. Tbh it just sucks that qTubbo died on an event day bc I feel like if he didn't we would've got a lot more focus and angst out of it but what can you do. But also it's seemed a lot more proactive because qBads kids are actively searching the server for him for 3-4 hours a day which is just depressing as hell, kudos to Pommin and Dapmin for pulling that off :') )
Wall of text over!
Have a flower for your troubles, after all our cubitos have done to us, I think we've earned some flowers without angsty connotations ;-;
❀❀❀❀❀
#qsmp#qsmp badboyhalo#qsmp tubbo#qsmp lore#qsmp analysis#tw death#cw death#these cubitos istg i just wanna squish them for how much angst they've created#also this isnt aimed at anyone just the posts i saw abt the death being ignored got me thinking abt their situations#how can 2 deaths be so different when they literally have the same end result of: they'll be back eventually#they're too addicted to perma die xD#but goddamn#tw suicide mention
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okay, so i don't want to, like, Start Something or whatever so we're doing a barely-tagged, separate post. i also realise this is mostly pointless because others have already said what i'm going to say, and did it better, with far more grace, and sound less like an asshole than i do.
but jesus louise helen christ, the weird fucked up ideas people have around abuse and personal responsibility and the effect of trauma. like as an abuse and csa survivor, it genuinely alarms me to read posts that use arguments i remember my dad making. like, i'm assuming most of this rhetoric comes from gen z — maybe that's inaccurate; maybe that's unfair. but right now i'm very much Having A Moment Here that the kids aren't alright.
no 22-year-old should be repeating the same awful, manipulative, logically and morally bankrupt justifications for violence and torture my dad says. like literally what's in the first two episodes of ofmd s2 is torture.
i love ed; he's an amazing character. taika is hella wowza top marks acting him. but like.
like.
torture, my dude. physical and psychological. trauma. harassment. that we see the lasting effects of through s2.
just. i. what??
so here we go, okay. have too many, zealously highlighted screenshots so i can dig into details.
cut to save your dashes. content warning for discussions of abuse and trauma (if that wasn't obvious), as well as spoilers for ofmd s2.
re: ed knew what he was doing was wrong and felt guilty about it at the time:
we have no on-screen, textual examples of this. not in the dialogue; not in the acting; not in the blocking; not in the cinematography or music. nothing.
knowing the crew are overworked and kind of traumatised by all the violence, ed bribes them with cake. because, as we know, cake like tea fixes everything. only ed wasn't even with them to share in the eating of the cake. he made izzy responsible for that. he doesn't give the crew a break; he doesn't choose less ethically-fraught prizes to hunt. there is not one scene of ed talking directly to the crew — until he points a gun at each of them.
we see ed crying (and drinking, and rhino horn-ing [way to help further extinction, man]) but it's always paired with shots or flashbacks that reference stede. ed is still all up in his feelings about stede, and ed confirms this when he tells frenchie the myth about albatrosses never needing to return to land. ed cannot go back, does not want to go back, because he was rejected. (like, stede is literally landed gentry, come on!) all he wants to do instead is stay at sea committing to this unhinged version of unstable, sadistic piracy.
but okay, okay. say we ignore all of that. let's say ed does feel sorry and guilty and ashamed of his actions. he knows what he's doing is wrong and unfair and cruel. that it's harming others. that it's particularly harming the dude that ed has, for better or worse, basically spent his life with (izzy; i mean izzy). ed… still continues to do the things! how far off are we at this point from the definition of malicious? you know action x hurts person b and then you do it anyway. is that honestly a better, happier, more ethically defensible reading of the character?
re: the crew didn't mutiny because they love ed despite his violent, sadistic actions.
mutinies were a thing, yes. but both historically and in the world rules established by the show, mutiny is disincentivised through threats, distraction via extra work, and corporeal punishment. we see both ed and izzy use all three of these to try to prevent the crew from disobeying orders. they didn't wait until the storm and izzy shooting ed to mutiny because they understood or sympathised with ed; they took the chance to kill him then because that was the first real opportunity they'd had. the reward finally out-weighed the risk given that ed was going to kill them all that night anyway.
again, we have no scenes, no dialogue, no visual or audio cues to tell us that the crew understands or loves ed — excluding izzy, obviously. fang could also be on that list, if you take into account his personality and his behaviour both in s1 and later in s2 in the fishing boat scene. but in the first two episodes, we only see the crew show trauma responses around ed. they talk about him but almost never to him. and when they do have a direct conversation with ed, it is either confrontation or head down, submissive, "of course, blackbeard; anything you say" placating. i'm so baffled where the show points to any sign of love from the crew towards ed before his "death".
re: ed can't be held responsible because he was suicidal.
uhm. no. hard no. a harder no than stede's brazilian cherry wood mast. fucked up people do fucked up things but part of being an adult is owning your fucked-upped-ness and not fucking up others while you work on unfucking yourself. children, children are not fully responsible for the impact of their actions on others when they're deep in their feelings, especially if they're feeling their feelings as a trauma response. this is because literally their brain cannot do that kind of control. it doesn't have that software pack installed yet. ed does have all the adult updates installed, even if he isn't running them at that moment. he has no right to take out his feelings on other people: to maim them, to psychologically torture them, to abuse them, to work them to exhaustion. to kill them. he does not get a free pass to do suicide by abused employees. (like suicide by cop but more indirect and passive and harmful.) talk about passive aggressive.
secondly, ed is not just passively suicidal and happy to find new risks that might end his life. he is very purposefully taking izzy with him (see: literally removing the bits of izzy that would help let him walk away from ed; the fact that ed becomes actively suicidal only once he thinks izzy is dead; the whole keeping izzy's corpse in front of his and stede's beach shack i mean inn — the codependence, she runs deep). ed is also putting the crew through the same risks, the same isolation, the same danger. both stede and izzy agreed that ed had gone full scorched earth policy. you don't get forgiven for the murder part of a murder-suicide pact just because of the suicide part. not to mention that no one (once again, you could potentially argue izzy as an exception) was good on a murder-suicide pact with blackbeard.
and then to say the crew felt guilty? i assume i'm misreading that. the crew. felt guilty. for ed's actions. that is, if not victim blaming and if not darvo, a very close inbred cousin of them. like hapsburg jaw inbred close.
re: ed healing and his view of himself as a monster.
to heal means, in part, to accept responsibility for the harm you've caused, whether it was intentional or not. it means making amends. it means building or rebuilding relationships where possible. it means putting the other person or persons' feelings and boundaries and need for safety above your desire for absolution or forgiveness. it means working through your own guilt and shame and anger (or whatever drove you to act the way you did) in a separate space, not with the people you hurt, but someone who can be a step removed, more impersonal and objective to help you reflect and face hard truths as needed. i say this as both someone involved in activism and community reparations and as an abuse survivor who has done nearly 30 years of therapy learning this in order to not hurt people. it's not ed's fault he's fucked up just like it isn't my fault i am. but it is on me, like it is on anyone, to make sure i limited as much as possible the harm i can cause to others because i learned some awful but very effective tricks at a young age to survive.
ed does not really do any of the above. he doesn't say "sorry". he speaks in generalised language. he complains about the cat bell (which he seems to wear only for one day, given the implied timeline with lucius and pete's engagement). i have a model ship on a stand that says "this is a safe space ship" as a joke because i work for the government and have written press releases that sound just like ed's "apology". where you take no responsibility and encourage "the culture" to move on.
so, really, my question becomes: ed sees himself as a monster. in s1, we had enough balance between ed's current actions and his referenced past actions to see this belief as likely untrue. in s2 though — i mean, is it? is that an unfair or inaccurate belief? i can understand how carrying that belief can get in the way of ed's growth and eventual healing but like. from an outside perspective of ed-the-fictional-character. he's not a "good" person. he's capable of and has done and continued to do horrible, cruel things. ethically, can you argue with that statement about him?
re: ed trying to destroy relationships because of his self-worth issues and instead the consequences of his actions proving that he's loved.
this is the point that made me go: right, no, i need to respond. i need to say my piece about this. izzy and the crew suffering ed's violent tyranny and then sticking around on the revenge anyway afterwards is not a sign of love. it is not showing love to bear pain for someone. it not showing love to let someone mistreat you, threaten you, hurt you, maim you. their actions are selfish and done to give them feelings of power and control over you. lying back and thinking of england to get through it is not love. it is absolutely a survival technique. but it is not love when you do it at the expense of yourself or others.
i also disagree that ed was trying to push people away or break his relationships with others. we know from s1 that ed is fairly blasé about whether crew members die. again, we don't see any friendly or intimate exchanges between ed and any of the crew to imply any kind of relationship there beyond "tools who accomplish ed's goals". the one exception, as always, is izzy. and as previously stated, ed seems bound and determined, in a very conscious way, to bring izzy into death with him. ed does everything in his power to make izzy want to kill ed, or at least agree that it's best if ed dies, and to want to kill himself so ed doesn't have to die alone. that isn't ed breaking that relationship; it's making it permanent in a really fucked up shakespearian way. the only relationship we see ed waffle between wanting to keep and wanting to push away is stede. after his corporate "apology" and the fishing trip with fang, all of ed's dialogue is with stede and a little bit with zheng until izzy's death scene. the crew loving ed just isn't a thing, at least not one we're shown. not from either side. ed's relationships are with stede and kind of, sort of with izzy (because he does manage to, if not fully break, do some major damage to that).
love did not save ed. ed wanting to live, because stede came back, because he didn't want to jump off hornigold's cliff in the first place, saved ed. izzy saved everyone else.
so yeah: that's it; that's the post. the rhetoric that abuse is love or that abuse can be "cured" with love or that trauma isn't lasting and serious and has impacts on people's daily lives is just. wild. wild.
and terrifying.
my dad was born in the 40s. why is anyone born in the 80s or later still defending this mindset? it honestly, truly freaks me out.
guess it's good i have a fucking therapy appointment on monday.
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Beginnings and Ends - SasuHina Recs
It's the 21st! That means it's fic writer appreciation day!
In celebration, I'd like to share some SH recs, but in a fun way!!! I'll be posting the first and last line of the fic, along with name, author, and brief description as to why I'm rec-ing it!
Good work, writers!
p.s. - Most of the links will be to FFNet, but if you see purple text, that means it's posted on AO3 as well~ I'm just doing this to save a little time on my end, but I understand some prefer reading on AO3!
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A Miracle by Eleanor Rigby 000
"A field trip!?" The class repeated. After that, several voices chirped, each of them commenting on how psyched they are for the class field trip.
"Forever," she assured
This is a angsty, passionate story of hurt, comfort, love, and meeting an old love. The story is Modern AU where Sasuke's a model and comes back to visit his childhood town, where he meets Hinata. Honestly, this is the first and only fic that has made me actively cry, and I cannot praise it enough! Please check it out!!!
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Okaeri by The Penumbra
She felt his fist connect with her stomach and went crashing down to the ground, barely having time to register what was happening.
"Okaeri, Sasuke. Welcome home."
This is sort of a prequel to the author's other fic "Snapshots: Black and White", which is also a stellar fic. It's set in canonverse, where Sasuke and Hinata slowly develop a friendship/relationship. You'll get your fair amount of angst, but really, you can hardly avoid such things in SH fics xD.
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Ichinen by Cinderella Starsend
Hyuuga Hinata stifled a yawn as she stepped out of the door and shut it behind her.
"And I love you."
I LOVE this fic! It's split into 12 chapters, each corresponding with a month. Hinata works at Ichiraku's in an attempt to get closer to Naruto, but she bonds with Sasuke more. I really enjoy fics set in the narutoverse that change things like this, mixing around dynamics so it's not always ninja stuff and war and training. It's a cute story, and the author's prose is beautiful!
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Neji Hyuuga: Matchmaker by emilyjm
Hyuuga Neji prided himself on seeing things other people never noticed.
Mission: matchmaker must be completed within five years.. Good luck, Neji!
UGHHHHH! Where do I start????? It's set in narutoverse where Neji's not only alive, but in charge of matchmaking everyone in Konoha so that he can get Sasuke and Hinata together. It's incredible sweet and incredibly moving and incredibly moving, and I love SH fics with a heavy focus on Neji. Please read it, and please read Another Story (sequel) which is JUST as good!!!
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When Will I Lose You by @elreinodelpurgatorio
Hinata, Lady of the Underworld, stands in her peach orchard and watches the Doom God and the Messenger God speak to each other.
One of these days, Sasuke, seated on a throne next to Hinata, is the one to look at a wretched soul and say: "Request denied."
This is a really fun HadesxPersephone AU where Hinata is Hades and Sasuke is Persephone! It's a short, magical read that is always a breath of fresh air! The author is really good at coming up with pretty sentences. Highly rec!
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What's Mine To Give by WritingHyuHin
After the massacre of his clan, Sasuke had one goal in his life at that young age. Revenge.
The things I do for you... Only you.... Hinata.
This is a rewriting of The Last movie, but SasuHina style! I think it's very believable and a fun thing to read, since I've watched The Last quite a few times. Seeing things that should be Naruto but are instead replaced with Sasuke warm my little, shipper heart. Give this one a chance!
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Nyctophilia by Sommernacht
For as long as he could remember, the night had offered him comfort.
"Indeed," he whispered against her skin. His fingers found their way under her fishnet top, making her shiver under the touch. "The most beautiful night."
Sommer hits it out of the park once again! This was their 2022 SHMonth one-shot in which Sasuke and Hinata secretly meet each other when 'borrowing' meds at night. They grow close and confide in one another, and I think it's a loving, deep connection that is impressive to make in just one chapter!
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A Study of Mannerisms and Other Alterations by MissLe
Sasuke Uchiha, as it was well known, was in possession of some very, very gorgeous eyes.
She decided, however, that the regal Uchiha nose would always hold a special place in her heart.
Ahhhh, this is probably one of my all time favorite fics! It's fluffy, it's cute, it's funny! I absolutely adore it! This fic is set in a Modern AU, where Hinata is a waitress at a cafe and Sasuke, a member of the firefighter team that comes by almost daily, has a pretty obvious crush on her. These two dweebs are adorable, and I read this fic so much!!!
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Uprooted by @kiljoius
Today, Hinata is 20.
“Maybe I can live with that.” Maybe she can, too, she thinks.
Arranged Marriage? Check. Fluff and Humor in a SH FIC of all things???? Check. Witty dialogue and amazing chemistry? Check check check! Without giving too many spoilers, this Modern AU fic follows Hinata and Sasuke, who plan to act 'over the top' in their arranged relationship in order to get out of it. Lets just say it doesn't work as planned for them huhu. This is a really fun fic, so if you're in the mood, give it a read!
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This is what I've got for now, but please feel free to comment or reblog with your own favorite fics (either your own or others) with their first and last lines.
@kiljoius @elreinodelpurgatorio @daifukumochiin @catruru @fher43 @gardenatsuntime @lavendereyedassassin @cariata @naoko-ichigo @lavender-long-stories @p-crowds @queenfox352 - You guys, too! Show off fics you like (or your own)!
Good work to all authors/writers out there! We love you!!!
Mod: PC
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(Urgent) I’m taking commissions
Hello my loves, I never thought I would have to do this again, but I really need help right now. I am doing art/translation commissions again, if you’ve known me since the pandemic you will remember I started to work in order to help my parents after my dad lost his job and got depressed, and was at the time too sad to do anything. I thought my parents were doing fine post pandemic since my dad got the will to study to get a masters degree, but my mom told me very recently that she is in debt (around S/ 20k peruvian soles or maybe more) and I’ve been weighing the options we currently have.
I know I haven’t been a good child to them. I dropped out of uni, and then dropped out of art school because I am too sick (clinical depression) to go. I am currently looking for a job as a waiter, and that money will go towards easing my mom’s debt. My best bet is looking for expensive restaurants, because foreigners come and go, and I’ve heard they leave big tips. I only speak spanish (mother tongue) and english (second language) fluently and I have faith that this privilege will help me. I’m trying, I really am.
Aside from doing this separately in order to help my parents, I am working on commissions (both art and translation) to help my partner. If I thought that my family had it bad, when I met and started dating my boyfriend it became clear that what we were going through is nothing. He is a very sweet boy, and he treats me like I am an angel, but he is my angel. He’s had it very rough. He’s struggling with addiction and I fret over him constantly, because he lives very far from where I do and if he were to be in any danger I wouldn’t be able to reach him in time.
Aside from struggling with drug addiction since he was a child, he left his home this year, and started living alone. I know that it is not ideal, but he was desperate to get away from his mom. I don’t want to be judgemental, but she is not a good person, he’s told me many things about her and I cannot trust her. To beat your son, to insult him, to make him feel like he’s a bad person, to make him feel like he’s nothing is so terrible. He once told me the last time she beat him he was sixteen years old, and she beat him so many times his back started to bleed.
Two days ago, he told me in tears that he’s scared of going back to that house because after he left his relationship with that woman started to improve, they had become friends. But apparently, his mom said after mother’s day that he only came back when he needed money (I honestly see nothing wrong with that. She is his mother, and it is her duty to take care of him until he is stable. She has abused him all his life, and I don’t understand how she expects better treatment from him after everything that she’s done. I don’t understand how he could forgive her, when I would have barely been able to even look at her in the eye. He truly is a sweetheart) and made him feel bad. And the worst part is, he had saved some money from his many jobs in order to take her and his grandmother out for dinner, and she never went. Only his grandmother was there. His mother went on a date with his stepfather.
Today, he has told me the landlord (landlady?) is kicking him out. I’m thinking this has something to do with his drug use or the fact that he’s been barely surviving, thus being unable to pay the woman consistently. She is insisting that he owes her and didn’t let him in since yesterday when he pleaded with her to open the door (he forgot his keys and phone in his room) and he had to sleep on a bench. It’s winter, and it is not safe where he lives.
I’ve pleaded with my family and they’re willing to help him find an actual apartment somewhere close to us, and a job. My mom told me she would help with rent until he was economically stable to do so himself. But until we find an apartment and a job and even after that, I know it’s going to be very difficult. His father is very irresponsible, and doesn’t help or even talk to him frequently (his father lives comfortably in Germany and can even travel abroad whenever he wants). I want to help him in any way that I can, whether it be food and groceries, shelter, anything. Right now I know he really needs it. And, perhaps, with enough help, he will be stable…
Please DM me for any information, my prices range from $15 to $45, no more, depending on the complexity of the piece. The only thing I will not draw is heavy gore and cp. I can also translate from english to spanish and spanish to english, if anyone’s interested. I’m charging $0.10 per word, because this is new for me despite being fluent. If you’re interested, you can check my tags: #my art // #translation for examples… I’ll tag them below to make accessing this information easier.
Please… help me help him. I am desperate. I don’t mean to bother anyone, I hope you can forgive me, friends.
Pay///Pal
#my art#translation#please reblog#help#signal boost#sonic the hedgehog#attack on titan#the legend of zelda#romeo and juliet#original character#personal#anthro#furry#commissions open#art
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