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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

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i was reading your fics, and was reading one where daemon is going up against cregan a little bit. i got this idea, cregan giving the reader a direwolf puppy as a gift. daemon makes a snide comment about it and cregan just turns to him, telling him that your enjoying your new pet, and who knows, maybe one day cregan will give you puppies.

daemon seethes as cregan walks away, acting as if he didn't just imply he was gonna breed you.

Puppy Love

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Cregan Stark x Reader

Summary: Ever since you came of age, you became the jewel of the court and your father turned down proposal after proposal, knowing if the man didn't want your massive dowry, they wanted to claim and corrupt your beauty and kind nature. And the only reason why your father hasn't chewed up the all too friendly dragon prince, was because he was doing most of his job for him. And anyway, your father knew you were too kind to think his attentions to you were anything more than friendly.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, 'too kind' reader, jealous!daemon, smitten!cregan, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: first of all, i have written quite a few fics were I've added cregan as uh an opponent for daemon so HAHHAH im not sure which one you mean, though I have an inkling it's Wish I Was Her (this is not a p2 of this btw) second of all, /: cregan dumb for giving away a direwolf to some rando dafaq. third of all, i really want do a take on a 'traditionally feminine reader' since i normally dont do that lol so im tryna make reader fit the period more, without making her a damsel in distress. wish me luck Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony

You straighten the brown paper in one hand while you fiddle with the wax seal that was on it moments ago. You snort through your nostrils, beaming at the ink on the the letter, eager to both reach the end of the page, and not wanting the words to end at all.

Daemon, who had been walking with purpose, forgets where he was going along the way when he spots you. You, the giggling lady, sat comfortably on the stone blocks that separated the garden and the hall.

The prince's stoic demeanor melts into an expression similar to yours when you smile at what you were reading. What were you reading? A letter? A letter from-

Quickly, the realization of what kind of letters a lady such as yourself would be receiving that would cause you to giggle like that makes his expression splat into annoyance.

With twice as much purpose, he struts over to you and calls out your name. You immediately avert your gaze, smile widening at the sight of him.

Good.

"My prince," you speak, bowing your head just as Daemon reaches you.

Daemon raises his brows and drops his lips, eyeing the paper in your hand, "a good read?"

You release a chuckle at the expression he pulls, "a very good read. I say Alaric is as good with the quill as he," you point to the paper, "harks to me how good he is with the blade."

He grunts, "Alaric." Where has he heard that tatty name before?

You chuckle as you watch Daemon stiffen. He places his hands behind him, slowly walking to the other side of the block you were sat on, sitting there across you, "which moronic suitor is he again?"

You drop your letter on your lap, tilting your head at the fuming prince, who now had his arms crossed. "Alaric," you start with a chuckle, "is my darling cousin, Anna's, son."

Ahh, Daemon blinks, that's why his name is familiar.

You snort, "he has merely just turned ten and one, your grace."

He clears his throat.

"Do you not recall rejecting my offer to attend the boy's nameday?" you speak through an amused grin.

"I've never cared for namedays," he trails off, crossing his arms.

You laugh. He turns to you because of it. How could he not when your laugh was like that? Your being beams in amusement, glowing like a star. It makes the prince emit a soft chuckle.

"If I didn't know any better," you say in between catching your breath, "I'd you were jealous of a child, my prince."

You catch the small smile on Daemon's face as he pretends to be offended, "and I'd say you've been reading too much."

Very suddenly, you gasp and point at him, making him pull his head back and his expression drop. His concern drops when you say, "is that a blush I see? Ooh!"

Daemon's arms loosen at your words. As if eager to make your words true, he begins to feel his body burn. Damn body.

You gasp the second time before throwing your head back in laughter, "I do say," you sigh, "scarlet suits you well."

Daemon rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he stands from his spot.

"Well, I mean, it is one of the colors of your house."

"Yes," he drops his hands to the side and walks over to you, "and I should well ought to make it your own."

And though Daemon smirks when he says this, your brows furrow at the thought. His vanilla baby.

"It would be pointless to try and convince my father to change anything about our house."

He sighs as you refold your paper, trapping a waxen seal in its center, and move to stand next to him, "in our actual house, I had to argue with him to change our drapes."

"No," Daemon says in shock, as if he actually cared.

"Yes!" you shake your head, "it was terrible! I had to remind him that I was now the woman of the house."

"Oh, that does sound terrible," Daemon huffs, eyes widening. He watches you as you believe in his empathy. He watches as you smile at his disingenuous words. Two beasts rip at him from within.

Normally, naïveté and slow-wittedness were traits that repelled him, especially in its womanly form, as it was drawn from the sheltered nature ladies like yourself were bred into. The dragon in him found this dull and all too conforming. He liked the burn from the whores, who would snarl if you took more than what you paid for.

Yet this personal brand of innocent on you was dizzying to him. One beast wanted to protect the purity within you, while the other wanted to taint it until all remained was him.

"And yes-" you take a moment to continue, "those were my mother's beloved drapes but... they had not been changed since her passing."

Daemon presses his lips together when you turn to the ground with a solemn expression. He does not get a moment to share the semblance of comfort in which he was capable of, because you quickly smile at him the way you always do and comfort yourself, "it is good to remember those who have passed, but they would not want for us to mourn them too long."

For once, he responds with honesty, "they would not, no."

The moment you smile at his words, your attention is taken from the prince.

You are called by a servant, who tells you there is a man waiting for you in the main hall. You courteously thank the servant and turn to Daemon, "thank you for ke-"

"I will escort you to your visitor," Daemon smiles, though not a real one.

You return a genuine one nevertheless, "I am grateful, but I do not wish to bother you, nor take up more of the time you already so graciously offered me."

Daemon takes your hand and pulls you near him with little regard, "you dare dictate what I do and do not with my time?"

You press your lips as you body collides with him.

"As though you were my wife?"

You clench your jaw, unintending to overstep, "my prince, I did not mean for it-"

"Yes, well," he cuts you off, "let us meet this moron who wishes to meet you."

"You know," you smile, "it may well not be a suitor."

Daemon chuckles, "I'm surprised you even caught onto that."

"Well, how could I not?" you chuckle, "when you were just jealous a child!"

He loses his smug expression. He scoffs into a chuckle as you laugh at him. "Oh very good," Daemon rolls his eyes and slowly claps his hand, "I'll give you credit. I did not expect that."

But what he very much did expect was that your audience was sought by a suitor; one large, slobbering dog of a suitor.

Very truly, Daemon's grumbling was merited, for why were you so enamored by the wolf-man and this overgrown rat-pup he bought with him?

He scoffs as you coo at the furry creature for the hundredth time, and for what? For doing absolutely nothing but expose its incompetence to walk in a fucking straight line?

And what's more, for every time the degenerate baby wolf toppled over, you tugged at its master's arm and pointed, leaning into him as you laughed and expressed jovial sentiments over the creature.

The prince rolls his eyes from the armchair he was sat on.

What was so impressive about a dog? There were dozens of strays outside the walls. He could get you twenty right now. A dragon egg should have elicited such a response from you, not this.

"Oh, dear Cregan-"

Gods, dear Cregan, she says.

"-your pup is a ray of sunshine on this chilly day," you speak.

Daemon watches you smile angelically at the large man with muddy dark hair and wiry curls. He watches as the cretin bares his teeth at you like a wolf does its prey, and you mistake it for genuinely, as always.

"If you are cold, my lady," Cregan says, removing the brown pelt on his shoulders, "then allow me to warm you."

Daemon straightens where he was slouched.

You recoil at Cregan's generosity, raising your hands as you shake them, "oh, my lord, I could not possibly accept the clothes on your back."

You watch as Cregan's rosy cheeks pull up with his smile, "then would you prefer I give you one your own?"

Cregan put on his fur again. You open your mouth to speak, but it is Daemon's voice that sounds, "she would rather you fuck off back to the North, dog."

You still at Daemon's words, promptly turning to him with a hardened expression of disbelief, "my prince-"

"And you best take your defective animal with you," he adds, grimacing at the wolf-pup chewing at a ball of wound fabric.

"Prince Daemon," you call tersely.

Daemon turns to you, expression unable to melt with the presence of that oaf on your side.

"Please do not speak for me as though your sentiments and mine own are one and the same," you calmly say.

Daemon scoffs. Cregan chuckles.

You turn to Cregan with a guilty expression, "I apologize on the behalf of ill-contrived words against you, Lord Cregan."

"No, you don't," Daemon quips as he stands, "don't fucking-"

"I appreciate your sentiment, my lady," Cregan ignores the whimpers of the lizard prince, "though you needn't worry yourself, for I am not wounded by words from the likes of him."

"The likes of me?" Daemon sneers as he storms over.

You turn to Daemon, suddenly at your side. Your eyes widen at the fury on his features. You hands instinctively come to his arm when he appears as though he is about to lunge at Cregan.

Cregan watches you do this, watches you calm the hot blooded fiend. Part of him burns in a shade green at your shared familiarity, but he is more amused by the fact you turn to him with a concerned look, nonverbally expressing your concerns that you, in fact, to not want him to pound your prince if he attempts anything. And so he laughs.

Cregan laughs and takes a step back, allowing you to step between them and push Daemon away in return.

Daemon's ire is fueled further, "what, you halfbreed?!"

You grunt as you turn back to Cregan, relieved he was smiling and not partaking in the hotheadedness the other man was.

"Did you fuck your wolf yourself to offer the pup to her?"

You recoil at the grotesque notion. You cannot stop yourself from calling out the prince's name in anger and bewilderment, "Daemon!"

Cregan laughs. It draws your attention. You sigh, "Cregan, I beg your par-"

"No!" Daemon barks, peering down at you, "he's come here on the intent of you bearing his pups, girl, and you'd so readily drop on your knees for him?!"

"He's brought one pup, Daemon!" you quip pulling away from him as you shake your head, "and I have no intentions of keeping the little wolf," you turn to Cregan, "for I have no such capabilities nor capacities to care for one!"

Daemon grinds his teeth. You heave.

Good enough.

The prince finds slight catharsis in your words. His anger does not fade however, because Cregan's grin is as wide as ever.

"Actually," Cregan raises his hands casually, "I have spoken to your father about the pup and he said he would accept it, for I am also giving you one of my servants as an aid."

The two men watch as you perk at the idea.

"Oh!," you gasp in disbelief, "so..." you break into a wide smile, "I can keep the wolf?!"

Cregan laughs as he nods, "and even better, you can name it."

Daemon is appalled by your next actions.

You run and throw yourself onto Cregan, sealing him into a hug for a moment before pulling back in realization your actions were most indecent.

Cregan however prevents you from pulling away too far, hands coming to your waist as he smiles down at you. He speaks with a lopsided grin, "I have been meaning to bring you the pup ever since we spoke about my pregnant wolf when you visited me in the North."

When you what?

"Will your dear Luna not mourn the loss of her puppy?"

LUNA?

Cregan chuckles, pulling his hands away from you, not because he wanted to, but because, between the two of them, he was currently the more amicable in your eyes, and he was not about to ruin that, "I assure you, she will fair fine, as she is preoccupied with three more at home."

You frown, stepping back from Cregan to turn to the pup, not at all seeing the twitching face of your prince, "still... I must not let him be forgotten by her mother and likewise."

Cregan smiles at the sentiment, "you have a kind heart, my lady," he takes your hand, "I would be glad to bring my wolves to your home whenever you want."

You are horrified by the notion, "oh please, it would be much better if I came to you."

Cregan nods, lips in a smirk, "I shall await then."

You seemed to be caught off-guard by the fact you unwittingly just made plans with the Stark.

And you had meant to explain you could not simply agree to his offer, but you were distracted by the string of High Valyrian being spewed into the air, paired by the loud sound of the prince marching out of the room.

#daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan fanfic #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark fluff

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suzdin · 2 months

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The Apartment

(Lucien Flores x F!reader)

Summary: Porn with very little plot. Lucien is your sleazy pot dealing neighbor.

Warnings/Content: Drug use (weed and blow), nicotine use, alcohol use, groping/sexual harassment (not from Lucien), some mild jealousy, age gap between Lucien and another chick (20s), fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, pull out method, spitting of bodily fluids (idk the proper term for it).

Word Count: 4,900+

Dedicated to: @ohheypedrito who held a gun to my head until I wrote this (lol jk, or am I? 😰)

Other Tags: @kateispunk @survivingandenduring @kellybelly1978 @awilderi @oberynslady @daddy-dins-girl @heavennumber2 @natdeandar @chronically-ghosted @morallyinept idk who else to tag.

You hear the party long before you even make it to your apartment block, droning 90s alt rock cascading down the sides of the building.

The residence itself is aging and quaint, not exactly located in the nicest area of downtown, but also not the worst. At least, you’d like to think so.

You had inherited the apartment from your grandmother when she passed several years ago. Roughly four dozen or so residents, including yourself, shared the building with you.

Amongst said residents was Lucien Flores, who had also inherited his apartment, from his mamá Claudia, who now lived in the suburbs, last you cared to hear. You didn’t speak to Lucien often, or the other inhabitants for that matter, other than in passing in common areas.

It’s roughly 11PM when you arrive home from work that night, your legs weary and straining as you make your way up the creaky old stairs to the third floor.

Lucien lives at the opposite end of the hall on the same floor as you, but that doesn’t seem to make the music any quieter, or the cloying stink of weed any less prominent. As you navigate your way through thick plumes of smoke and fog, you’re sure you’re getting a contact high just walking to your apartment.

You sigh. It’s going to be another long night.

The hallway is crowded and you push your way through a myriad of faces you’ll likely never see again after all is said and done.

As you make your way through the gauntlet of tight and twisting bodies, you feel unknown hands belonging to a faceless entity groping and pawing at you as you pass; you snarl and slap them away. Your palms sting from the contact, incorpereal laughter bellowing in your wake.

You spot Lucien just as you’re reaching your apartment, propped up on his shoulder against the wall, ankles crossed casually, watching you. Silk watercolor shirt practically dripping down a broad torso, hair mussed and gnarled, a gold chain nestled in the hollow just beneath his throat where his shirt is undone to the third button, exposing smooth, olive skin.

He wasn’t the man who groped you, no, you’re sure of that. He was too far away for that to be possible.

A filterless cigarette is perched between two of his fingers, cherry glowing brighter as he takes a long drag, tendrils of smoke curling into the air and consolidating with the rest as his dark eyes study you.

You stare back, unblinking. And then he moves without warning, graceful and fluid as a lithe cat, pushing his way through the crowd and seeking out the man who had touched you only moments before. Unlike yourself, he could pinpoint the man’s face without hesitation.

Without so much as discarding his cigarette, Lucien’s free hand twists around the man’s collar, pulling his face close to his own. Teeth gnashing, face contorted in a sneer, Lucien spews what you can only imagine is pure venom from two plush, pink lips. You wish you were close enough to decipher the words, but the last thing you want to do is fight and claw your way through the crowd again. So you perch against your door and watch, doing your best to garner context clues as the man’s face goes pale and his eyes widen.

Their gazes suddenly dart to you in tandem, making you flinch. And then, seemingly cowing to Lucien, the man lifts his hands in defeat, drifting down the stairs and out of sight without so much as another word.

Lucien’s dark visage finds yours again, his head cocked forward, as he brings the cigarette to his lips a second time, cherry visible through the fog.

You dip your head in acknowledgment and gratitude before disappearing to the welcoming confines of your home.

——

Just after 2AM and the music is still raging, hard as ever.

You aren’t surprised. Lucien, your building’s resident pot dealer, seemed to know everyone. And everyone, him.

His parties were commonplace enough to be a regular hindrance to your sleep cycle. Not to mention the other residents. But the cops were rarely called… people in your neighborhood didn’t particularly care for law enforcement. Cops weren’t too fond of the neighborhood, either.

You lie in bed, wide awake as the bass thrums on without an end in sight, clad in only a pair of panties and a t-shirt. Your head hurts, and you have work tomorrow. You crossed the border of pissed long ago. Now you are fucking livid.

Lucien couldn’t keep getting away with this. You had to say something.

You slide out of bed, throwing on your house robe and slippers as you make your way back out to the corridor.

Most of the party had drifted inwards, into his apartment, but a few stragglers lingered here and there. Some were drinking, some smoking. Some were doing a little of both.

You could see into his home just slightly, getting a glimpse of the pink walls his mother had painted years ago, the ugly palm frond wallpaper lining the kitchen.

Your eyes zero in on Lucien right away. His shoulders, rounded and bunched around a thick and corded neck, colorful silk shirt swimming along his waistline.

His back is to you, a young woman — who you think can’t be older than 24 or 25 — is pinned between himself and the wall, one of his hands positioned next to her head, the other folded as he lifts a pile of white powder to her nose. She brings one of her hands up to pinch the other nostril closed as she snorts the substance into her body; Lucien’s lips curve into a wry smirk.

Your gaze shifts lower when you register movement, finding her opposite arm extended between the two of them, palm cupping and stroking his cock over his pants. Lucien doesn’t appear to be reciprocating her touch, which seems to have her more than a bit… frustrated, judging by the look on her face.

Cinching your robe tight, you approach the couple, clearing your throat loud enough to catch them both off guard.

The woman, whomever she is, draws her hand back instantly, eyeing you with disdain at the unwelcome interruption.

Lucien’s eyes flit to yours. Then, slowly, blatantly, the same dark irises travel down your form, methodical in how he checks you out. He isn’t even attempting to hide it in front of her.

You glance away, your skin heating.

With a scoff, the woman dips under Lucien’s arm, whispering something to him before she joins the rest of the party inside. He nods to her, disinterested, before turning back to you.

She’s beautiful and young. Lucien is twice her age and roguishly handsome, a truth you didn’t care to indulge often. You aren’t the least bit surprised by what you walked in on, as he always seemed to have a revolving door of women hanging around.

“Hey, baby. Want a bump?” he asks you.

“Fuck, no. I actually want to sleep tonight,” you tut, crossing your arms in indignation. “I have work tomorrow and I’m already exhausted. Do you think you could lower the music? Shut your door, maybe?”

His face falls and his lips pinch into a frown at your utter and outright rejection, although he understands your reasons and chooses not to argue, checking you out a second time. You feel your skin growing warm beneath the robe at the attention.

“For you. Anything,” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes but dip your chin in gratitude anyway. “Thanks.”

He turns to shut his door behind him, drowning out a better chunk of the noise than you expected. As you turn to walk back to your apartment, you feel a warm, broad hand circling your elbow.

You stall, contorting your body to look back at him. “Lucien, what—“

“Hey. Are you okay?” he questions.

“No, I said I’m fucking tired and I have work tomorrow…” you reiterate, looking down at where his hand currently connects to your body.

His grip loosens and he lets his hand fall away from your elbow.

“No, I mean, from earlier. The man… who was pawing at you like some horny dog,” he explains, recounting the events that you would care to forget. “Are you okay?” he repeats, gaze softening, fluffy curls framing his face.

Your heart races at the sight of him, and you swallow down the rising lump in your throat.

No. No, you are not going to get involved with your drug dealing neighbor. Stop it.

“Oh,” you say quietly. “I’m, uh, fine. Thanks… thank you.” You offer a faint smile, suddenly flustered.

He nods, plush lips parted in thought, brow furrowed as he studies you. Those eyes of his are goddamn entrancing.

“Here,” he says, placing his palm against the small of your back as he gingerly directs you back to your apartment, halting in front of your door.

He fishes a freshly rolled joint and lighter from the breast pocket of his shirt, holding both items up so you can see. The light overhead catches the chain around his neck, reflecting it, making it shimmer.

“Girl Scout Cookies,” he explains, his voice low and hypnotic as he gives the joint a heady whiff, “So you can sleep.”

“Or… you could just turn off the music and ask everyone to leave instead,” you suggest, plucking the joint and lighter from his fingers anyway.

“They’ll drift out little by little the rest of the evening,” he counters, watching you ignite the joint and take a hit, holding the smoke in your lungs. “Most of them have left already.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, snorting. Take a second hit. Pass it back to Lucien, whose callused fingers brush yours as he takes it.

“Your girlfriend didn’t seem too keen on leaving,” you point out.

“She isn’t my girlfriend.”

“Okay, girl you want to fuck,” you correct.

He takes a long, slow draw of the joint, exhaling the plume through rounded lips as he watches you. “Isn’t that, either.”

“Oh, so she was grabbing your dick for no reason, then?” you retort, arching a brow.

Lucien takes another hit, forming his lips into an ‘O’ as he blows the smoke gently in your direction. He scrunches his lips up in thought.

“Precisely. Wasn’t even that hard,” he explains.

You choke out a small laugh, leaning against the wall. “Jesus, Lucien.” You open your door to go back into your apartment, alone. “Thanks for the weed.”

“You brought her up, not me.” He grins.

“Goodnight…” you say firmly, trying not to let your vision linger on his lips. Or his puppy dog eyes. Or that goddamn gold chain. Fuck.

“Wait,” he murmurs, reaching for your arm again. Warm, thick fingers brushing your skin.

“What?”

He takes another pull from the joint, trapping the smoke in his lungs as he moves languidly into your space. Free hand cupping your cheek, a smirk tugging at the edges of his lips, he hovers over you, mouth nearly touching yours.

Your lips part instinctively, causing his smirk to widen even more as he exhales the cloud directly into your mouth, your lips briefly making contact. You take in a deep, heady breath, tasting the smoke, tasting the essence of him.

The small point of contact is enough ignition for both of you to act. It was the catalyst needed to convince yourself yes, yes you ARE going to let yourself get involved with him, reputation be damned.

His hand travels from your cheek to your hip, squeezing, smirk transforming into a grin as he guides you backwards through the mouth of your apartment.

And you let him. You’ve been nursing this unhealthy crush on your neighbor for long enough, you realize.

Your own hands find the collar of his shirt, and then his chain, wrapping the metal heated by his skin around your knuckles, dragging him into you. He smells like weed and clove cigarettes, like cheap red wine and musky cologne.

You aren’t sure who closes the door, but somehow, it closes with a bang behind you, and he spins your body, wedging you between himself and the hard surface, his hand unmoving from your hip as he bends to thrust his pelvis flush against yours, grinding his hard length against your center. Even through the robe, it’s unmistakable.

“Thought you said you weren’t very hard,” you tease.

“Wasn’t…” he replies with a wry smile, grinding into you, hand moving back up to your neck as his lips crash into yours.

He deposits the still smoldering joint in the small metal bowl by your door where you keep change for laundry, hands bracketing either side of your face, pressing himself firmly against you as his tongue slips into the hot cavern of your mouth, eliciting a small mewl of longing and desire from your lungs.

He tugs at the binds of your robe, the material falling open like the wings of a butterfly for him, revealing your bare legs, your soft cotton panties with the little cherries.

“Well, well…” he groans, palms locking onto your hips, thumbs moving in semicircles along your silken flesh as his fingers flirt with the elastic band of your underwear, snapping it against your hip bones.

He dips to grind his erection against you again, and this time, without the barrier of your robe dampening his motions, you feel his hard cock dragging over the sensitive nub of your clit, your hips bucking back with equal fervor.

He kisses along your jawbone, down to the sensitive apex of your jaw and column of your neck, mustache and beard gently scrubbing at your skin, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear.

“Only reason I was hard at all is because I was thinking about you,” he whispers, before taking your earlobe between his teeth and giving it a slight tug.

“Bullshit,” you scoff, breathless, and although you can’t see it, he grins, giving the elastic another harsh snap before his thumbs hook around the material, sliding them down your legs, cool air licking at your exposed folds.

“I don’t bullshit,” he grates, lowering to his knees in front of you, kneading your upper thighs in his hands as he takes in the vision that is you.

Slick dribbles down your inner thigh as he spreads you open and admires you, everything about you.

“Look at you, opening up like a pretty little flower for me,” he groans, leaning forward to swipe his angular nose through your soaked folds, inhaling the intoxicating scent of your arousal.

A small chirp escapes the back of your throat, fingers sinking into his dark curls for balance as his tongue flicks out to taste and tease you, lifting one of your legs to toss over his shoulder.

His tongue breaches your entrance, penetrating you deeply, your body juddering with every broad stroke of his tongue inside your walls.

“Fuck, Lucien…” you purr. He hums in approval, hands sliding up your backside to cup and massage your ass as he drinks of you.

You find yourself gyrating against him, your body chasing the sensation of his mouth, and not only does he let you, he furthers it along, fingers digging into the meat of your ass as he pulls you into him repeatedly, groaning.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, protesting the loss of his mouth on you as he pulls away for a beat, the feeling only short lived when his lips circle and tenderly suction around your engorged clit, two of his fingers sinking into your fluttering hole.

The resulting squelch as he fucks into you with his fingers is lascivious and loud, your spine forming a perfect arc against the door.

His fingers curl inside of your tunnel, making contact with the soft, spongy flesh at the mouth of your womb, each thrust getting you closer and closer to seeing stars.

“God, oh my fucking god…” you moan.

Your walls begin to tighten, your hips shaking, fingers twisting against his scalp as you feel your pleasure mounting. And you swear you see his lips hook into a grin as he gets you there, the sight of it with his nose and curls, the way the silk and gold chain catch the light, only spurring your pleasure on. It’s all so much. So much and not enough.

“I, fuck, I’m gonna cum…” you sob as the sensations reach a head and the feeling consumes every fiber of your being, your vision going white as your head lolls against the door with a faint thud, hips rutting forward to chase his mouth.

He rides you through it, growling into your core almost as though he’s enjoying it as much as you are, the reverberations making you crave more.

He pulls away from you when your body calms down, mouth coated in a sheen of your slick, hair stamped down with sweat from where your palms had gripped onto him.

Catching his breath as he stands, his lips and tongue tangle with yours once more, letting you taste the evidence of your release before dragging you toward the bedroom.

You can feel the cannabis coursing through your system now, relaxing you, making you feel lighter than air. You smile to yourself, knowing your orgasm is going to be sweet and lingering.

“You would look beautiful by my side at every party,” he says, brown eyes twinkling back at you, head tilted.

“You have plenty of other women for that…” you reply, letting him guide you to the bed as he slips your shirt over your head, revealing your naked breasts to his hungry gaze.

“And none of them are you,” he tuts, “None of them are as beautiful as you… as this.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond as he pushes you down into the mattress and crawls over you, teeth dragging along your shoulder, your collarbone, upper body propped on an elbow while the opposite hand kneads one of your breasts. He plucks the nipple to a sharp peak between his fingers, making you arch and moan.

He sheds his shirt and pants nearly in tandem, your vision settling on him as he slithers out of his underwear, a girthy, uncut cock between his legs, twitching at the sight of you.

“Fuck…” you gasp, his eyes shining in amusement as he manipulates you onto your back, pushing your legs apart and taking up residence between your thighs.

“I bet you feel as good as you taste,” he groans and kisses you again, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth.

Fisting himself at the base of his cock, he teases it along your folds, gathering your slick, nudging your still swollen clit. Your breath is ragged and unsteady in your chest, every motion of his body leaving you wanton and desirous.

“Lucien, please,” you plead and he chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles.

“Need it that bad?” he asks, bemused, dragging the head of his cock over your clit again, making you cant your hips, chasing the sensation.

“That must be a yes,” he purrs, his voice low and velvet.

He lines himself up at your entrance, giving a few short, preliminary thrusts with just the head, teasing and testing how ready you are to take him, before pushing himself further in, inch by inch.

After a few more precursory thrusts, he bottoms out with a long exhale and faint moan, lower lip taut and jutting outward, holding himself within your walls for several seconds, before pulling almost all the way out to slide back in again, slowly. Oh so slowly.

You grunt and arch your spine, your hips lifting to meet his, needing him to move faster…harder.

“Come onnnn,” you groan.

A smirk forms on his lips as he cages your head in with his upper arms, lips finding your throat, whispering against your pebbled skin.

“Always knew you’d be cock hungry, baby.”

He doesn’t allow you a chance to recant, pulling himself partially out and then slamming himself in again as hard as he can, teeth grazing your tender skin, gold chain smacking you in the face with the momentum of it.

He doesn’t seem to notice or care. Not that you mind much, either.

You whimper and paw at his shoulders, clinging to him, still needing, desiring more.

“Yeah? You liked that, didn’t you?” he whispers again, slamming into you hard a few more times for emphasis, making you keen, your bed smacking the wall harder each time.

“Need you to go faster, please,” you whine.

“Alright, baby. Since you’re asking so nicely…”

He leans back now, settling his weight against his calves as he lifts your legs to rest against his vast shoulders, tan skin shiny with perspiration. His dark curls are skewed and clinging to his face, dark brown eyes glistening with lust.

He looks so goddamn hot like that.

He doesn’t waste anymore time, fingertips digging into the meat of your calf muscles as he begins railing you with everything he has to give, the sounds of skin smacking skin filling the room, shaking the bed with impact.

He’s more than focused now, teeth exposed, brow furrowed, droplets of sweat pooling in the little divot of his collarbone. You wish he was closer so you could lave at the sweat collected there.

It isn’t long before you start to feel the familiar, telltale tightening in your lower abdomen again, your breath hitching in your chest, droplets of perspiration forming at your hairline.

“Yes! Yes! Don’t slow down! Don’tslowdooooown!” you cry, your hands reaching for his, where they grip your legs, fingers curling like talons around his digits.

Everything about you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, feels as if you’re floating.

A few more rough slams of his hips against yours and you’re seeing stars, head falling back against the pillow with a cry as your walls flutter around him, strangling his cock, sucking him deeper. He growls, his breath hissing through clenched teeth, and you know he’s almost there as well.

“Fuck, I’m gonna… fffuuuu—“ Lucien grunts, sucking in lungfuls of air as he pulls out of you at the last possible second, perched on his knees, pumping himself in his fist with your slick.

The squelchy wet noises of Lucien beating himself off fills your ears, and he emits a loud, guttural groan as he reaches completion, tendrils of seed spurting thick and hot across your stomach, some of it collecting in your navel.

“Open up,” he instructs, and you hardly have time to gather your thoughts and bearings before you feel his tongue gliding across your stomach, scooping himself onto his tongue.

His mouth hovers over yours as your lips part, Lucien spitting the cocktail of saliva and cum onto your waiting tongue, his own tongue meeting yours as he kisses you deeply, moans getting lost in your throats.

“Fuuuck,” you sigh when your lips eventually pull apart.

You both settle on your backs, shoulder to shoulder, still catching your breaths. You stare up at the ceiling, your head still light as air and swimmy.

The party continues on down the hall sans Lucien, but it’s quieter now, more subdued.

“I’m definitely going to sleep really well after that, but I may call in to work tomorrow anyway,” you giggle.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet,” he says, eyes shining with mischief as his hand trails down your body, fingers swirling through the remnants left on your stomach.

“But all those strangers in your apartment. Are you not worried?” you ask.

“I have someone watching it for me. It’s okay.”

His lips tease along your neck. “You’re like a goddamn drug, baby.”

You don’t even question it further, smirking as his fingers lift to your lips, painting them like gloss, laughing inwardly to yourself when you realize that the girl in the hallway doesn’t get to have him like this, like you do, as he dips his head to kiss you again.

—

fin. xx.

#lucien flores #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x f!reader #pedro pascal #writing #fanfic #smut #pedro fanfic #romance #author

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detectivebambam · 2 months

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I'm bored and I have nothing better to do than annoy people about Aaron minyard, sooo seeing how Andrew is ur fav character, do u hate Aaron or love him? I js want ur opinions and thoughts abt him, maybe even ur hcs?

lol 😆

Aaron is,, complicated

i don't like when people pretend to be something they're not ? so Aaron trying desperately to pretend that he's "the normal twin" and not a Fox , is sad of course, but also pisses me off lol

i think he's a good brother, and i really wish he had the chance to be one growing up.

he's slightly homophobic, but since Tilda and Luther are siblings, he was most likely raised that way. he's not violent and he's definitely getting better as he gets older, but Neil said he "gave Nicky hell" for his sexuality. could just be banter and Neil isn't picking up on it bc he's Neil. not something I hold against him, is what I'm trying to say

overall? he's definitely not my favorite character, but he's a great one and I do love him (that's why I always give him twin girls. he deserves that)

as for headcanons:

the older twin, was also heavier than Andrew when they were born. Andrew was like 3lbs 12oz and Aaron was probably 4lbs

gives great hugs, and once he and Andrew grow up (30s?) they like to snuggle

HE IS THE EMO TWIN!!!!! fav bands are MCR, Three Days Grace, etc.

i love the twins with gapped front teeth, so yes

and dimples 😋

he's allergic to shellfish

silently watches how Neil interacts with Andrew so he can figure out how to talk to his brother without animosity

becomes friends (?) with Neil, but only after Kate and Andrew start getting together on Sundays to silently bake together

literally the most amazing dad. reads bedtime stories with funny voices, shows up to every game, recital, etc. he's absolutely incredible

^ he thinks he sucks

Kate is the only person he openly cries around, and she holds him while he does

shorter than Katie 😋 by like 5 inches. he loves it

#aftg #all for the game #ty for the ask <3 #aaron minyard #katelyn mackenzie #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #kateaaron #twinyards #the foxhole court

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ronwestbreeze · 1 year

Text

TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY : PART TWO : CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

pairing: jake sully x fem!reader

summary: bury your old life, my friend

word count: 2.3k

warnings: a little nsfw toward the end but not explicit.

author's note: i am not a smut writer and this will probably be the only time i would write it lol. anyway, hope y'all enjoy!

AO3 | prev | next

Watching your former body be carried toward a grave in the most beautiful ceremony you had ever witnessed was morbid to say the least.

And as you walked in a line of Omatikaya people, few of which were carrying a larger leaf where your body lay, you couldn’t help but wish this was private. Something like this was meant to be grieved away from watchful eyes, closure meant for only you.

But you did not mind this at the end of the day. The last thing you wanted was to ever be alone again. You had spent far too much time in solitude. Rejecting those that tried to reach out for you and hold you in their grasp so that they would know you weren’t going anywhere. Now was the time to leave it all behind. In this new life you would do things differently. You would be different.

You trailed behind just a bit, eyes never straying from your former body. When you finally tore your eyes away, Jake, who was a few walks away, was already watching you when your gazes locked. He reached his hand out to you. And you smiled, albeit sadly, and took it without hesitation. You had to be further up front anyway with the Tsahik and the Olo’eyktan.

The ceremony had started late in the evening, as the sun was setting. Now by the time you all got to the burial place, the stars were in the sky. There was someone singing, their voice floating around the wind, in and out. When you got to the burial place, which was a tall old looking tree, all of you swarmed around it in a half circle. You ended up standing next to Mo’at who had pulled you to her side. Jake was nearby, along with Neytiri.

Before the ceremony, you had asked Jake if he had gone through with this with his former body.

You remember him giving you a knowing look before he nodded, “I did it after the transference. It was a small one, nothing too big.” He must’ve noticed something in your face and his face softened, “We don’t have to do this, you know. We can skip it, just bury the body and leave it.”

“No, no, I can do it.” You breathed out a sigh, trying to calm your nerves while tugging on your hair absentmindedly. Neytiri had done your hair recently and given you newer clothes to wear. Really you felt a bit exposed but you looked more Na’vi than dreamwalker for the first time. “Actually, I’m just trying not to think too much about it.”

Jake nodded, “I understand.”

For a moment you watched him. As he set down the pile of spears he had gotten from training with the warriors earlier that day. How he had a certain calmness about him. How he always seemed a lot more controlled than you were.

“I don’t get how you do it.” You chuckled, massaging your forehead. Jake, who had been knelt to the floor, looked up at you with a confused frown as you continued. “You always seemed better at handling moments like this. Even back then when Grace…I guess I’m a little envious.”

He was quiet for a moment. You continued tugging at your hair, deep in thought. Then Jake spoke again, “That day was easy, in a way. Making the transfer. I already knew where I belonged, who I wanted to be. If I had the decision to do it over again, I would without a doubt.”

You listened to this, already knowing what he meant. Hell, in a way you knew that this was the path he would take. You could see even back then when he was training to become one of The People. He yearned for this life. So, it was no surprise that he had chosen it permanently.

Jake had moved, you realized coming out of your thoughtful daze, to find him knelt down in front of you. Instantly, you grabbed his hands, guiding them to your face and allowing them to cup it as he spoke, “But I know one thing. One thing I am absolutely sure of. It was the best and worst day of my life. And the worst part? It was you not being there at my side when I woke.”

“Even when we weren’t even mates.” You frowned. “Even after everything. Even after five years, you still choose to love me?”

With a gentle smile, he pressed a kiss against your eyelashes and then the tip of your nose. His hand ran through your hair, his fingers gently massaging the back of your head. “I already chose you. Since the first time we met. I’ve always chosen you. “ He yanked you closer, pressing his lips against yours in a deep and long kiss. One that the both of you melted into so easily, one filled with yearning passion and desperation. The way his eyes burned when they locked with yours after you both pulled away, foreheads pressed together.

Even now, as you stood with Mo’at you felt his burning gaze on the back of your neck. Even with your eyes closed, listening to the words of the Tsahik, you could feel his presence despite him being a little ways behind you. A part of you couldn’t get what would’ve happened if you had kept going out of your mind while a sensible part of you was trying to focus on the ceremony in front of you.

Then they placed your body in the hole. That’s when Mo’at began speaking to Eywa. That’s when you began your silent goodbyes to your old life, to your old self. This person was now gone and you were finally allowed to leave her in the past for good. And when they buried you, when the last of the dirt hit the ground, your new life began.

You all stayed there, eyes still closed, repeating the words Mo’at says. It was like a prayer, you realized. That your body may be secure in the hands of Eywa, that you may be taken care of now that you have gone. You remember some of these words from the night Grace had died. There was one tear that night, during that entire ceremony.

When it was all over. Everyone moved on to their homes, to their hammocks to rest and prepare for another day. But you instead went to the Tree of Souls. With you, you carried Tsu’tey’s old necklace, the one he wore before briefly becoming the Olo’eyktan. You stood under the tree, connecting your queue to one of the stems. You spoke quietly, only for the spirits to hear as you put on Tsu’tey’s necklace.

“Thank you for bringing me home.” You smiled up at the tree, imagining Grace’s face in your mind as you spoke. “You didn’t have to but you did. And I thank you for this. I am forever grateful for you…” Your fingers grazed the necklace gently, “I hope the both of you are at peace. May you rest well with Eywa.”

For a little while longer, you stayed there. And it was quiet all around you, the forest asleep.

Your ears twitched when footsteps approached.

Glancing over your shoulder, a smile tugged at your lips when you saw Jake approaching. You unlink your queue from the stem, “I was just about finished.”

Jake nodded as he stopped next to you. “Here for Grace?” His eyes trailed down toward the necklace you wore, an unreadable expression crossing his face. “Or Tsu’tey?”

“Either.” You responded honestly, turning back to face the tree. “Really for whoever’s listening.”

His hand came up at the small of our back, running gently along your spine as he spoke, “Did you see her? When you were in your transference. Did she say anything to you?”

You thought back to your conversation with Grace. Frankly, you weren’t even entirely sure if it was actually Grace who you were talking to. Or perhaps a version of your consciousness. But you remembered it like it was only yesterday.

“She told me that she had a daughter.” The smile on your lips grew as you felt his face rest in the crook of your neck. “And that she would always be with me.” You shrugged a little. “If you believe in that sort of thing anyway.”

He hummed against your skin before pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder, “I’m starting to.”

You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He pulled you closer to him, close to the point where your lips were a feather away from each other. Your hands found their way to his hair that had grown into thick dreads, nearly past his shoulders. You saw the same burning look in his eyes and yet at the same time a look as if he was stuck in a memory. And by the way his features subtly fall, just a little bit, you could tell just what he was thinking about.

It was you that leaned in, placing your mouth on his, drawing him out of his thoughts as he quickly responded to your touch. One hand sliding up your spine and the other squeezing your waist, desperately pulling you closer so that your skin touched.

The small sounds coming from his throat made your insides melt and your fingers trembling for more.

He broke away, just for a moment. And in that you noticed a tear trail down his cheek. Your thumb brushed against it as you rested your forehead against his, “Try not to think about before.” Of course the memory hadn’t left her. The last time the both of them were here, under the Tree of Souls was when she had said her goodbyes to him before going off to fight a battle of her own. Of course she remembered it. Of course. Of course. Of course.

Jake nodded, pulling you even closer if that was possible. “Are you here with me?” He asked you in a gentle whisper. “You’re here with me right now?”

You smiled. Remembering Neytiri’s words to you. She is meant to be a part of our family now. If she chooses to accept us. You realized you had never given her an answer until now.

“Forever, if you want.”

And there was the white crescent smile that you missed. And with that smile, it melted onto your lips, capturing you possessively. This time his hands wandered to sensitive areas and this time you let him.

The both of you had come close before, back at the tent earlier that day. But it wasn’t the right time. Now? Now all you can think of was his hands all over your body. Claiming you and his. And him as yours.

At some point the two of you slid to the ground. The ache between your legs wasn’t unfamiliar yet pleasurable. So was the way his length plunged into your walls with ease making your stomach tighten and swirl. Quiet mewls left your lips and tickled his ears as his hips thrusted int you, gently, almost as if you were the most fragile thing on Pandora. Jake had never seen you so beautiful. So perfect, almost as if you were stolen from his dreams and brought before him. Being able to finally hold you as he wished, having you touch him as much as he touched you.

You were real. You were real. You were real.

Finally.

The night ended with you lying in a hammock with both Jake and Neytiri. Neytiri lying in between the two of you, Jake on her other side. You remembered, before the two of them had fallen to sleep, connected all three of your queues together. It was a silent promise, you realized then. That you were all one. That this family, this heart, this soul, and this purpose…

Was yours just as much as it was theirs.

Your eyes had closed for only a few seconds. But it was enough time for you to be surrounded by fire. Alone. With no way out. There were screams all around you, though you couldn’t tell if it belonged to the dying or you. An overwhelming wave of emotions, of chaos, struck you from all sides. You saw Grace burning in the fire. You saw Tsu’tey dead at your feet. You saw the ship that you had crashed and your own body lying amongst the dead.

Then there was laughter. And then there was a face grinning at you.

“What is it, kid?” Quaritch sneered. “Ya look a little scared.”

And then you wake up.

Your back in the hammock. The dark sky had a visible hint of dawn just creeping in the corners. Your breathing was shaky and you realized, after taking in your surroundings, that you were sitting up.

It was a few seconds until you finally got a hold of your breathing control and managed to calm your growing anxiety.

Nightmares weren't anything new for you. Really, you should’ve been used to it at this point. But of course, as soon as you felt a moment of peace, they came and struck back. Pulling you further into your own despair.

And you would’ve fallen easily, given in easily like you used to. That is until something squeezed your arm, pulling you out of your rapid thoughts and toward whoever had brought you out of it.

Neytiri was staring up at you, a confused frown on her lips, “What is wrong? Why are you awake?”

You hesitated, really considering your words. As you did so, Jake shifted next to Neytiri, his eyes fluttering just a bit. Neytiri frowned, sitting up just a bit, “Tsmuke?”

At her words, Jake stirred and you shook your head, “Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m fine. Go back to sleep. Just a bad dream is all.”

With that, you lied back down, turning your back to them. Your fingers massaged your forehead, trying your best not to think too much about the nightmare. And you didn’t, especially when you felt Jake’s hand on your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze

Eventually, you closed your eyes. This time you dreamed of nothing.

taglist: @luvvfromme @sully-stick-together @jakesullylvr @s-u-t @ssc7514 @cheari @tojigirl @nyotamalfoy @perfectprofessorloverapricot @naityelen @dumb-fawkin-bitch @raggedyoldwitch @nhemmingsf @biooiuygjjgfsrb @thatsenoughformelol @thotd-f1 @beaniebeensbaby201 @theoriginalwife000 @3leni @23victoria @lovesickollie @atxara @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @ladylovegood-69 @lovekeeho @lilithmoon14512 @n7cje @fyfy-world @cleverzonkwombatsludge @goddesslilithmoriarty @itszzmoon @eternallyvenus @bajadotcom @ducks118 @alexandra-001 @sweetllamaparadise @padfootsvixen @avatarmasterlistblog

#to you worlds away #jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully #jake sully smut #avatar jake #jake sully #sam worthington #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water

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lwiann · 6 months

Note

i adore your durge so much please share facts about him if you are so inclined

omg thank you for taking interest in him... 🥺

He's a really quiet guy who takes the cult business seriously. He's got insane father issues with Bhaal and does everything he can to be his perfect son. Hence the extreme religious crisis when he met and got obsessed with Gortash to the point where he would punish himself through self-flagellation and offering more bodies to him. Self punishment has always been something he did when he thinks he disobeyed Bhaal, but it was never that bad until Gortash... hjkgfkdfg anyway..

He enjoys the killing and whatnot.. typical durge stuff. Huge ego, pretty pompous. but there were times when he'd wish more in life and question his purpose especially during the start of his fall from grace. questioning what he wants aside from killing. be with who he wants. I cant ever talk about him without bringing up Gortash hjfkff but Gortash really did ruin him because for the first time, he wants something more than the purpose his murderous father has given him. His one true equal in this world. The only person whom he has told his real name that was given to him by his adoptive family before the urges came. Yet the only way he knew how to express his love is to tell him "i will kill you on my father's altar and then myself" lmao.. just two very emotionally constipated evil people honestly.

Post-tadpole, he tries redeeming himself and ultimately fails because I think it's such good tragedy. He develops a thing with Gale but can never really commit to anything because the moment he woke up on that pod, there is a hole in his heart in the shape of a tyrant he can barely remember. So it's more of a complicated interest in gale. I am torn between: Gale makes him sane and he's truly the only person that he never wants to hurt. or someone he wants to corrupt. mostly leaning on the latter. but less corruption and more of trying to maximize his potential, is what Vanh believes he's doing anyway. he's still very much a silly fucked up evil guy with or without bhaal...

I could go on and on... he's so special to me jgdfkgkkg...

when he's not being an undiagnosed edgelord (lol) he likes the sky, he likes the ocean. he likes watching the tyrant tinker with his metals and inventions. He likes watching the wizard cook. he's very observant in an almost creepy way. He likes being alone too where nothing can disturb him.

as a cult leader, hes just a very annoying guy when he talks, honestly. he could go and on and on about his father and his unholy mission and i like to think he would be banned from fortnite lobbies 💀💀

#oc: vanh #the bhaalists think hes so perfect but deep inside when he talks theyre like oh shit here we go again #this is why everyone at moonrise was like not this fucking weirdo again #gortash once told him not to kill a noble whose money they need and Vanh recited like the bhaalist bible @ gortash or some shit #for 10 minutes straight #gortash: (looks at the camera like hes in the office) dude....#i think vanh is silly and unintentionally funny hes so emotionally constipated

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aemondsprincesss · 2 years

Note

Can we get the dragon reader to spit fire lol? Like more of her protective side maybe towards aemond?

Yes!

This happened on the day that the court finally found out what you really are! A little more than half a year later. By the time you were more... clingy (you all better know what I mean!).

Aemond left you with Helaena. She decided to try and teach you how to embroider, since you like to watch her do it (actually you just love the colorful strings). Aemond saw no harm in it, and decided to leave you two to it. It had been to long since he last trained so he decided to kill one hour in the training yard.

A few minutes in the training with Ser Criston, that was, as always, brandishing his morningstar with brutal skill, Aemond heard a inhuman screeching roar. The sound cutting the air and piercing his ears almost painfully, only to be swallowed by the roaring of fire.

You had become restless as soon as Aemond left. Helaena knows that you are not supposed to walk the castle in day light without Aemond, but you were not listening to her and wanted to go find him. Without options and fearing your crescent frustration, she took you to him.

Looking back, Aemond saw you at one of the balconies. You were standing on top of the parapet, your head throwed back, your flames aimed to the sky.

His sister was behind you with her head between her hands and eyes closed thightly.

The ladies, lords and guards that were watching the match, and a few servants that were working nearby, also turned, horrified. And while the nobles and servants ran to safety, the guards drew their swords. Aemond commanded them to lower it immediately, throwing his to the ground. They hesitated. Minus Ser Criston, that already knew about you and lowered his weapon as soon as Aemond did.

You jumped from the parapet with effortless grace and landed on the muddy ground on your feet. The height would be enough to break the bones of any human.

Seeing your eyes trained on Ser Criston with predatory attention, while you approached slowly, steam coming out your mouth and nostrils, fire burning in your chest, Aemond understood what you thought that was happening. You thought that he was hurting Aemond.

He stood in front of Ser Criston and threatened the guards saying that if they wished to live, they should drop their swords, because even if they survived you, they would die by his hand for attacking you. This convinced them.

In all this time, Aemond did not take his eye from you.

He called your name (yes you have a name, he gave it to you) and told you to calm down in high valyrian. Aemond could see that you became confused, hesitating, but was still hostile.

Still shielding his mentor from your murdering gaze and line of fire, he ordered the men to bend the knee. Anything to make them look less threatening in your eyes, they obeyed nervously.

Aemond began to walk in your direction. Never stopping the calming words of reassurance. Saying that he was ok. That he and Ser Criston were just play fighting like you two do sometimes.

Once he was close enough to touch, you holded his biceps and began to scent him, looking for injuries with a worried expression. And even if the situation was the worse, he could not stop himself from melting inside with your concern.

When you didn’t find any injuries, you hugged him. He hugged you back, cooing and caressing your neck and back. Reassuring you that everything was ok.

Actually it wasn’t. A lot of people saw what you did and found out that you are not human. Surely the word would spread quickly and his mother and grandfather would be mad. But he would take care of everything. You are worth it.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Tag list:

@dragonride-rs @dothrckis @risaru @omgsuperstarg @bbyaemond @witch-of-letters @chevelledahuman @xcharlottemikaelsonx @oo0lady-mad0oo @zafirina12 @lazypinkpig @theunyieldingsword @pinkyfingy @fallingleaves678 @hi-im-fan-trash @omega-horus @uselessbutinteresting @alysinwonderland-at-tea @ihatepeez @rntrsna @mouseymagines @t4medicroe @juneisreading @mistalli @kaicyl @nex-crowley @moni-cah @universal-chaos-theory @freelyunlikelykingdom @may-machin @rosaryos

Click on the tag below to see more of my Aemond Targaryen x Dragon!Reader works!

👇

#aemond targaryen x dragon!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic

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shimmerwindow · 4 months

Text

I Never Really

Part Eleven

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: None!

Playlist | Masterlist

Tag list: @jazzyfigz @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar @dannys-dream @gretavanfan @do-it-jakey-baby @gvfpal @ignite-my-fire @gardensgatekeeper

Thanksgiving break had arrived, a welcome reprieve from the constant stress of classes. Everything had been ramping up lately on the climb to finals season, as your mental health had started to dwindle. Your world was crumbling, piece by piece, and you were desperately trying to get all those pieces back into place as the weight of life held you down. You hoped that finally getting some time alone would be helpful.

Loneliness had always been your closest friend, though it felt harder to cope with now that you’d gotten a taste of actual friendship. It had been tainted with love and lust, but it was friendship nonetheless, and you missed it dearly. This time of year in particular was always difficult. You could never afford the holiday travel cost to get back home, so you’d always just stay in the dorms, alone.

It was harder now, watching your fellow classmates in the hallways. Some looked ecstatic, smiles gracing their faces as they held their phones to their ears with one hand, the other hooked around the handle of a suitcase. Others looked exhausted, dark circles under their eyes as they shuffled their tired feet down the hall.

Being here with so few others had its perks. The showers were much cleaner, and on a few lucky occasions, you were the only person in the room. You kept yourself busy, finally cleaning the garbage heap that was once your dorm, and putting the finishing touches on your projects that would be due in the coming weeks. Through it all, though, a lingering feeling of sadness loomed over you like a dark cloud.

It was only the third day of the week-long respite, and you couldn’t take the feeling anymore. You drafted a text. One to Sam. Your last correspondence had been weeks ago, now, and something in your heart ached when you saw the date next to the messages. We don’t talk anymore, you thought, and that was the loneliest feeling in the world, for so many reasons.

hey, wondering if you and the guys are around/busy? bored and stuck in the dorms lol

You hadn’t even managed to close the app before you saw the tiny text of read appear under your message. It was almost instant.

back home for the week! maybe we can hang when we’re back? hope you've been well

You didn’t bother replying. What was the use, with all the unspoken words behind every sentence? You gave his message a heart, and put your phone back in your lap.

This was a situation you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. You tried to think of how far back you would go if given the chance. If you knew then what you knew now, would you never go up to the roof that night? Maybe you’d quit smoking altogether. You barely smoked these days, only when you were particularly stressed. The smell reminded you too much of him. As did everything else, in all honesty.

The light was quickly disappearing from the sky, stormy clouds obscuring the rising moon. Maybe a walk would ease your nerves. You shrugged on your coat and slipped your feet into your shoes, heading out into the chilly air. You hated Sam for so many things now, so many things that were not his fault. You could no longer take your favorite path down the least-traveled side of campus, not since you spotted his car there.

Your mind began to unravel in the solitude. Campus was empty, with a dead air to it that made you the slightest bit uncomfortable. Normally, a lack of people would be everything you’d hoped for, but it was no longer comforting to you.

An array of paths sprawled out in front of you in your mind. There seemed to be no way forward given your current position. You’d tried to take the advice of Josh and Jake and talk to Sam, but you couldn't find the words. Everything you wanted to say just felt wrong when you would practice it in the mirror. And, on top of that, you weren't sure if you would be able to hold your composure when he actually gave you a response. Would you be able to keep a poker face if he told you he was dating this girl? You had no idea, and didn’t feel like finding out the hard way.

Visions of Sam danced in front of your eyes as your feet naturally quickened their pace. You didn’t have time for this. There was already enough weighing on your mind, the added stress of all this was too much. You feared that you’d made a terrible mistake, choosing to sleep with Jake. It was an action that had been deliberately calculated to sever your tie with Sam, whether you wanted to admit it to yourself or not. You’d told Jake he was not part of a revenge scheme, but that had been a lie, you now realized.

You said it wasn’t about Sam. But it had always been about him. Everything you did revolved around Sam. He was now the center of your world. This was more than a crush. You started walking faster. This was more than just finding him cute. You started jogging. This was more than wanting to be close friends with him. You started sprinting across the grass, your shoes leaving trails in the damp grass.

You couldn’t outrun him. You couldn’t the last time you’d been here, running across campus, trying to get away from him, hoping you could exhaust yourself out of being able to think. It wasn’t possible, not anymore. As you collapsed into the grass under a tree, your head spun, every word Sam had ever said to you running through your mind all at once, his image brighter in your mind than ever before.

The last of the leaves shuddered off the tree one by one in the light breeze. The dying grass tickled the palms of your hands when you laid them flat on the ground, your chest heaving. Tears ran down the sides of your face and all of this felt all too familiar. You hadn’t been able to say it back then, but you couldn’t hide from it anymore.

You loved him. You were deeply, desperately, unshakably in love with Sam.

The first flakes of snow began to fall. Delicately, small white flakes drifted down to you, landing on your blazing cheeks and collecting in your hair. Winter was here. Just as you decided to stop lying to yourself. Soon, the semester would end. You would be alone once again. You wouldn’t see Sam every morning, and you could free yourself of his constant influence. It was all so indescribably perfect and terrible, every feeling you had about him so painfully unresolved.

For the first time, you allowed yourself to dream. To fantasize about him in the ways you had always repressed so deeply. The calluses on his fingers, would they be rough against the soft skin of your cheek? What would it feel like to have your lips against his neck, your fingers running through his hair? It hurt so beautifully to let all of it in, two months of emotions washing over you all at once in a bittersweet haze.

Jake had meant nothing, when you got right down to it. But you’d put yourself in a precarious situation, now. Social dynamics you didn’t quite understand swirled in your head, confusing you, you couldn’t even remember all the details at this point. All you knew was that you’d taken what was offered, at the cost of losing what you needed most. Above all, you were scared. Nothing would be the same now, and you'd ruined something that could have been so beautiful – you were sure of it.

* * *

In some ways, it was nice to finally say it out loud. The rest of Thanksgiving break passed by like molasses, each day dragging on longer than the next. You’d done nothing but wallow in the agony of unrequited love, but it was somewhat easier now that you could say it. Love. When the semester resumed, you put on a brave face in front of Sam, though you were sure it was written all over you. There was no real use hiding it anymore. If he didn’t know then, he knew now, in the way you stared at him at the end of every class.

It was the final week of your regular schedule, and you felt a kind of nostalgia walking into the lecture hall for the last time. It would be a work day, the professor announced.

“Well!” Sam said, stretching his arms above his head and turning to you. “I think we’ve got this in the bag.”

Indeed, you did. The two of you had worked rather seamlessly together, more than you’d expected. “Yeah, I think it’s done.”

“Wanna turn it in together?” He gave you that smile, the one you had every inch of memorized.

“I think we only need to submit it once. You can do it, if you want.”

“No, together!” He pulled up the submission screen and added the finished file, neatly titled with your full names. Seeing them next to each other like that was strangely jarring. Before you could protest, he snatched your hand off the desk in front of you and brought it over to the mouse on his laptop. That warm, rough hand stayed on top of yours, pushing your fingers down to click the mouse button once.

And just like that, it was over. The class that had originally drawn the two of you together was done, it was all over. Nothing tethered you to him anymore but the fraying social ties you’d so carefully neglected. Pondering it for too long made you feel tears threatening to well up in the corners of your eyes.

“Finally done.” His voice broke you from your reverie, his hand sliding off of yours. “You wanna come over some time soon?”

You didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you could ever be alone in a room with Sam ever again. You recalled the words of his brothers, though. You needed to talk to him. Even if it was only to find closure, to be given the opportunity to truly cut him out of your life without guilt. “Sure, if I’ve got time. Finals, y’know.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” he chuckled. “I’m in the same boat. And I have to move all my shit back to the house, too.”

He did look much more exhausted than usual. Those eyes, that already had an air of tired behind them, seemed heavy. Dark circles adorned the spaces below them. His hair was pulled back, and had lost some of its usual luster.

“Maybe once I’m done with everything I’ll text you." Maybe.

He looked at you, and closed his laptop with a finger. “Sweet. I’ve been missing you.”

“Really?” The word slipped out in shock.

“Of course. What’s a sky without the sun and moon?” He gave you a little shove and a grin. Unbearably endearing, to the point you almost felt embarrassment over it.

“Will you ever stop being so cheesy?”

“Don’t think it’s physically possible, actually.”

“So you’re not staying in your dorm?” You asked.

“No, isn’t the place closed during break?” He looked at you, confused. "You're staying there, though, I'm guessing?"

You nodded. “Normally, yeah. They let some people stay over the break. Like, international students, or people who can’t go home.”

“Can’t…go home?” He looked at you like he was treading on very treacherous ground.

You waved a hand at him, giving a sheepish grin. “Oh, it's not like that. My parents are just really far away. And they downsized recently, so I don’t have a room there anymore. It’s smarter for me to just stay here.”

“Oh, right, right.” He propped his elbow on the desk, resting his cheek against his palm. He looked utterly captivated by even dull talk. “Seems like it would get lonely in there this time of year.”

“Doesn’t bug me much. You get used to it.”

“Probably nice to finally have some peace and quiet, huh?”

“Oh, god, yes.”

“Hoping I’ll finally get some of that at the house. The guy in the room next to me, I don’t think he's spent a single night alone the whole semester. Loud as fuck, too.”

You laughed at that, immediately picking up what he was laying down. “God, that sounds obnoxious.”

“I’m worried it won’t be much better at the house. It never is.”

There was something behind his eyes when he said that, something that made your palms start to sweat and your eyes take in a bit more light. Fear, regret, something in the middle of the two. All that ran through your mind was thoughts of Jake, how you would have to stop. You’d need to quit all of them, that entire family.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and spoke over your silence. “I’m gonna run, if we’re done here.”

You nodded, suddenly struck by the feeling that you might cry at any moment. “Sounds good. I’ve got some shit to do, anyway.”

The two of you parted ways, and you were both burdened and light as a feather as you headed to the library to kill time before your next class. You didn’t have anything to do, in reality, but you needed time to center yourself.

Walking into the library did you no favors. You could see the quiet corner where you and Sam had sat together; that was months ago now. You sat as far away from that spot as you could, but your eyes lingered on it. If you could go back to that moment, would you change a thing? Would you have given up the blissful joy of being in love to avoid the way you now felt shattered to pieces?

A small part of you thought that, perhaps, it had all been worth it. Just to know him, during this time, had been enough. Maybe in your next life, you would meet him again, and he would point out the stars to you with his arm draped around your shoulder while you wore his sweater. The one you loved, the one that complimented his eyes. Maybe it would look just as good on you.

#greta van fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x y/n #inr #i never really

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sitp-recs · 9 months

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Hello Liv, I’m looking for a fic with « a falling in love while the world around us is ending » vibe. Finding love in a midst of a war or a tragedy. when everything around is collapsing, when we don’t know how much time is left so every second is lived fiercely and intensely.

A bit of a tragic lovers vibes (but with ultimately a happy ending).

Do you think you could help?

Ohhh I love this ask so much! I definitely have some nice recs for you, and would love to read more doomed lovers, it’s one of my favourite tropes. Please note that some most of these have open/unhappy ending. Enjoy!

Without Sunshine by @sweet-s0rr0w (T, 1k) - open ending

The fall of the Wizarding World begins on a Tuesday morning. As Draco says, the timing's dreadful.

if the world was ending by saltwatergarden (M, 4k)

The world is ending again, but it's far less dramatic this time. Harry Potter tries to save the day. Draco wishes he wouldn't.

Between Two Fires of Beltane by secretsalex (E, 5k)

As the war drags on, Draco becomes a spy for Voldemort and works his way into Harry’s good graces—and his bed. When the Order prepares to invade Malfoy Manor, Draco is forced to examine his loyalties.

A Cold Spot in Hell by @drarrytrash (E, 8k)

When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire. If you wanted 8k of sexy arson, emotionally difficult arson, general arson, handkerchiefs, dread, and poetry curation, now is really your moment.

The Taste of Magic by @romaine2424 (M, 10k)

As the world's atmosphere changes, magic starts to disappear. Only a "lucky" few will stay in the magical world until the earth begins to heal.

And Save Me From Bloody Men by @blamebrampton (T, 10k) - open ending

Draco Malfoy once watched others fighting to stop the world falling apart. This time, he's not just watching.

The Eighth Tale by lettered (E, 12k) - Cw: mcd

Draco Malfoy tries to fix the past, but instead mucks it up some more. For Harry, it all becomes quite clear.

Two Zinnias and the Scent of Lemon by @the-starryknight (M, 17k)

The Ministry didn’t turn bad overnight. Harry didn’t suddenly turn rogue either. Between covert Legilimency links and Polyjuice disguises and running and running and running, Draco has forgotten what it is like to have a safe harbor that isn’t a person. If there’s an art to fighting back, then they’ll find it hand in hand.

All the Ashes Like Leaves by @firethesound (M, 21k)

Nothing about being the Chosen One had prepared Harry for this. With most of the population blinded and man-eating plants running amok, he can only stay close to his friends as they make their way to safety. Not that he’d call Malfoy a friend, but the end of the world does rather make their ongoing feud seem trivial. And it just figures that it took nothing short of an apocalypse to make Malfoy seem like less of a git.

We Are Legend by @vaysh11 (E, 38k) - cw: mcd

Eighty years into the future, Voldemort won. Harry Potter is a renegade wizard, Portkeying Muggles out of London to Hogwarts, last sanctuary in a Britain ruled by the Dark Lord. On a mission he encounters a powerful phoenix Animagus fighting on the Death Eaters' side.

REVOLVEVLOVER by @firethesound and @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 46k) - open ending

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for.

The Compact by astolat (E, 64k)

Hermione frowned. “The real question is why the magic of Britain would be failing now, in fact.” “That is not the real question!” Ron said loudly; he’d woken up fully by now, and Harry had too; it was starting to sink in that they’d found the problem. “The real question is, how do we fix it?”

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (M, 104k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Bonus: I don’t usually read WIPs but this one is my all-time favorite and it fits the ask perfectly!

In The Dark by @bixgirl1 (E, WIP)

In the aftermath of an apocalypse, Harry receives an order to find and bring Draco Malfoy nearly a thousand miles, to the tenuous safety of Hogwarts. But more than distance separates them from their goal. The world has fallen, and death is hungry.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #tragic lovers

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msbhagirathi · 2 months

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IPKKND LIVE BLOG SEASON 1 [Epi 5]

Let'z welocme Shyam today. *sarcasm intended* (-_-) (I know I wrote the wrong spelling by mistake but then I noticed it and thought let it be. Who cares. Shyam himself won't come here to correct me.)

There, I gave you the biggest spoiler of the episode, in advance to ruin your mood.

Heh. I am evil.

Now don't leave without reading it, okay? I do a lot of mehnat into writing these. :')

Come. Let'z begin this then *sighs irritated-ly*

Arnav's manager shows him the live news with the footage, being telecasted in some channel. (Kamlesh Khabri ji, was that yours ? Lol.)

2. Did you-too- wonder about that 'smart' phone, Arnav was holding? Turns out, I could find it.

3. "Aaj ka saajan" Lmao. (Today's lover)

4. Arnav, while watching that clip, being telecasted, flashes back to the line Khushi said last, before leaving. "Devi maiyya ki marzi ke bina koi kuch bhi nahi kar sakta, koi Arnav Singh Raizada bhi nahi." (No one can do anything without Devi-Maiyya's wish, not even some Arnav Singh Raizada.")

5. Basically, he is thinking, that, he has shown her place to 'that girl', who had said that he can't do anything without some 'devi maiyya's wish'.

6. This is clear in his reply to Akash's protest for over paying MR . "Meri beizatti karne ki himmat naa kabhi kisi ne ki hai, naa ab koi karega." (No one, has ever disrespected me, nor anyone would, now, have the guts to.) Oh. So, the problem is your ego issue.

I should have known it. Khushi had the misfortune to meet you and now she is paying the price with her reputation and dignity, being butchered like animal slaughtering. You, a__hole.

7. Khushi and her Amma are getting molested by a bunch of perverts.

8. Babuji tries to stop them, but he gets a hard push, which results in Shashi losing his balance and his head hits a nearby pole.

9. The men are very adamant and one of them tugs at Khushi's dupatta.

10. There. A man, wearing, a beautiful shiny brown pair of office shoes, with a matching pair of trousers, is shown stepping down from somewhere. He starts walking (towards the scene?)

11. A Turquoise bracelet gleaming in his right wrist. (why the fck isn't he wearing his wedding ring?) He is shown from behind some -shops?- He walks upto where babuji had fallen down. He helps him to stand up.

12. Wow. Daiyya Ho! What an entry.

13. Everything aside. Aabhaas looks so fckin handsome in that outfit. Everything. Literally, everything about his look is so freaking perfect. The colour combo of the shirt and pant. The shoes. Oh. God. I am in love with those shoes.

IDK. It's just looks so- fantastic?-deliciously beautiful?- I am simping for those, quite literally. Is it normal for some human to simp on a pair of shoes? Whatever. So. Yeah. I was talking about the look. The flare of the pant, as he walks. His haircut. Like. Wow. Absolutely ravishing.

14. And he starts beating those mfs, one by one.

15. After beating those hooligans. He walks back to Babuji, to check up on him. He tells him to get a band-aid for his cut. Babuji is touched by his words and thanks him for the help.

16. Then, Shyam turns to look at where Amma was standing but is transfixed to see Khushi shyly(hesitantly?) looking at him with tears in her eyes, from behind her Amma, just like any other rom-com film, only that, this isn't any other rom-com film. (the Sitar and Tabla BG score used, here, is so freaking beautiful and also kind of suits him coz it sounds something like wicked and graceful.)

17. We can see, he is caught off guard, by the way, Khushi is looking at him; by her beauty. He realizes her hesitation and picks up her fallen dupatta and offers it to her but Amma takes it back. He might have wanted to talk to her but, before that, he is pulled out of his trance, by babuji and they bid him a goodbye.

Khushi turns back to look at him, one last time. Only that, this isn't the last time, they would be meeting. Alas. Khushi as well as we, don't even have an idea about, the depth, of his obsession with Khushi that, will go, after this moment.

18. Look at the absolute contrast, in the way, they introduced both the anti-hero and the main villain. At this point, half of the audience might have already started shipping Shyam and Khushi.

19. The sequence, at Gomti Sadan, is so freaking emotional. Khushi is, again, getting punished for the crime that she didn't even commit. (Or until they think that she shouldn't have left the house at all.)

20. Even babuji cannot come to forgive her, this time. Garima decides to send, both of them, away to Delhi. Buaji, who always had an over-reaction for every situation, was, a minute ago, shouting at both of them to say or do something, to punish Khushi,(She really likes to see Khushi suffering. Bloody sadist.) is shocked. Lol. "Dilli kauno davaai ki pudhia thori haee, ki ghol ke pilaay dio. Sab theek." (Delhi isn't some bundle of medicines that dissolving it in water and making it drink someone, would cure everything.)

21. The moment she realizes that she has to take both of the girl's responsibility, she spits out the water from her mouth. Lmao. She tries to convince both of them but is not successful. Her discomfort is so visible, as she gets to taste the result of her instigation. LMAO. LMAO. LMAO. Buaji ab maza aaya? Lol.

22. Anjali comes in with a thaali, diya and some incense sticks burning. Arnav is immediately irritated at the sight of his Didi (initially he used to call her 'didi' then he resorted to 'Di').

23. She asks about whether he ever thought about the well-being of 'that girl' before creating such a huge ruckus and Arnav, I think, is caught off guard.

24. We are immediately taken to 'that girl', who is so innocent that she could not even think that her 'woh' had released those 'taswirein'.

25. She vows to find out who was the one to release them.

26. Deepali's foundation was so off, in this scene. (Literally, her face looks so pale.)

27. Payal asks Khushi, in a challenging(or admonishing?) way, that how will she find out, ready to scold her, for even mentioning to do something else, lest it worsens the already messy situation, they are in.

28. Screen cuts to Arnav, still in his thoughts (maybe regretting? Lol. No.) as he comes out of his reverie and says " Soch ke hi toh kiya tha." (It was a thought out move.)

29. Liar. (Liar, pants on fire. Lol.) No. You were not thinking when you ordered for those videos to be released, Arnav. Why are you lying then? Tell your Didi that you did it, in a fit of rage, to show 'someone' that you actually hold a lot of power. Bloody b_stard.

30. Lol. "Ab aap apna yeh 'naari mukti morcha', yahan mat nikaliye, yeh mera office hai." (Now, please don't start your 'Women's Liberation March' here, this is my office.)

31. Lmao. The brother-sister banter is so heart warming and fun to watch :)

32. Both Khushi and Payal reach the office of 'Khabrein 24x7' (News 24x7). Khushi, is nervous, and clutches Payal's hand in fear. Payal understands her distress and smiles victoriously, that now she will be able to convince her sister, to return back to their comfort zone.

33. But, her sister is more courageous than she seems to be. And, true to her nature, she tells Payal to take a seat and walks up to the reception, gulping nervously.

34. She asks to have a word with their company's 'maalik' (owner). But, the receptionist tells her, for that she would have to go to Delhi.

35. After a few minutes of deciding, when she wants to talk, to the receptionist again, she tells her to wait for sometime without paying any attention that she is 'the same girl'.

36. Sometime later, the workers of the office realize that Khushi is that 'TV wali ladki' and they start mocking her and make fun of her situation. They circle her in the center of the office and keep laughing.

37. Payal is disappointed and reduces to tears immediately, she quickly walks up to Khushi but loses the courage to take her out of it, as her feet get frozen, due to the nervous-ness, by all that negative attention, that, they are getting.

38. Khushi noticing, that her sister is getting affected by the mess that they have managed to land into, speaks up. She, while shedding tears, knocks some sense into them. And they are.....umm, immediately regretting it? No realization?

I mean to say that they could have shown them realizing their mistake, like, they could have taken some time? Then, that, 'sorry we were wrong' could have made much more sense. Did you too feel that? No? Only me? Ok. Leave it. (Pata nahi choro.)

39. So. Yeah. They 'feel' sorry immediately. And regret it. But, Khushi does not want their apology. She wants the answers which she had come for. They reveal that they got the orders from the higher authorities ('Woh clippings release karne ke orders upar se aaye the.')

40. Khushi asks who send them those clippings and is unsurprisingly shocked. I know. I don't make sense. But. Let me explain. See. She is so naive, that, she didn't even realize the extent of power and influence that ASR commands.

Just because, she got to 'talk' to him personally, in a fairly public place (The Dargah), without any appointment, in his own office, doesn't mean that he is not 'that' much influential. It's just, he chose to have a conversation about the topic with her. He could have easily ignored her. But, he didn't.

So, my point is, she could not even come to think that only he would be the one, who could do this, even after, getting into a heated argument with 'The ASR'. She had already started treating him like an acquaintance. Like, he is a random normal person, just like her. And, not some Business Tycoon of the Fashion Industry. She had already started treating him like an equal, like a normal person, of her 'status'.

41. So. She's shocked. Screen stops at her face. Precap begins. *quickly pauses it* Spoilers. (Although I had already watched it once earlier *smiles nervously* I am not a hypocrite, okay? I had watched it out of excitement.)Ok. Bye.

P.S. : No P.S. Bye. Have a great day/night ahead. God bless you.

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#arnav and khushi #arnav singh raizada #arshi #ipkknd #khushi kumari gupta #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #no tags today #lol #ok bye

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carolmunson · 11 months

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Lol the three least likable people in this fandom writing a Titanic AU, this is so embarrassing for you

so true actually. in fact, please sign this petition to get us removed from the fandom.

here's another snippet just for fun:

Palm Court is as stunning as you expect, a beautiful sunny restaurant enclosed by tall arched windows that allow the creamy sunlight to blanket your dull lunch. It’s decorated with tan wicker furnishings, lush green planters, striking white and black patterned tiling from the floors and up the walls. It’s marvelous, really. But sitting between Steven and your mother makes it terribly difficult to appreciate.

Your mother is allergic to ever letting her nose turn down, Steven is only interested in schmoozing the men across the table, and the men across the table are more than happy to indulge each other and, therefore, themselves.

“She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history,” the Managing Director of White Star Line, Scott Clarke, remarks proudly. There’s a kink of a smile that’s poorly concealed by his voluminous mustache. Clarke waves a small gesture of his hand across the table to a younger, more handsome gentleman, “And our master shipbuilder, Mr. Alexei here, designed her from the keel plates up.”

Mr. Alexei turns red at the ears, disliking the attention he attempts to deflect. “Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Clarke’s,” he nods and Clarke holds his chin a bit higher. “He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, so luxurious in its appointments that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is,” Alexei is proud without ego, he slaps the tabletop in a bout of excitement, “willed into solid reality.”

“Here, here,” Steven cheers obnoxiously through a grin.

While Mr. Alexei’s enthusiasm seems contagious to everyone else at the table, including one Erica Sinclair, it’s hard to embrace while suffocating like cargo, a heat expanding in your throat that you desperately wish you could ignore. You’re distant from the chatter as you reach for relief, the cigarette stuffed neatly in its tortoise shell holder. A strike of a match and a deep inhale help suppress that clawing in your throat. The nicotine flows up into your thoughts and you’re graced with relief for only a moment before your mother leans in. Feathered hat bobbing like her craned neck.

“You know I don’t like that, dear,” she says displeased just for you to hear. Her sharp eyes and clipped words are daggers. You exhale the plume of smoke and it envelopes her face, she blinks wildly, bewildered. Embarrassed by your actions she shifts uncomfortably in her chair, even more when you refuse to look away. You’re pleased to watch her squirm, you bet she’s wondering whom at the table caught you. You hope everyone.

“She knows,” Steven interjects, leaning over to quickly pluck your cigarette from its holder with his uncalloused fingers. He stubs it out in the crystal ashtray between you. Steven’s unphased by your antics, keeping you in line is a chore he’s used to. He doesn’t miss a beat when the waiter steps just beside him. “Mm, yes, we’ll both have the lamb. Rare, with very little mint sauce.”

It’s by accident when your eyes meet Erica’s widened one’s across the table. Steven very rarely allows you to speak for yourself. Him ordering on your behalf is nothing new, but Erica’s observing. She flicks her eyes to your mother then to your unaware fiancé. Steven turns to you but you’re focused on a window just behind Erica. The light of freedom beyond the frosted glass taunts you.

“You like lamb, don’t you, sweetpea?”

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theteasetwrites · 8 months

Text

The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon | S1E2 Thoughts

⚠️ SPOILERS AHEAD ⚠️ do not read below the cut unless you’re okay with spoilers

Positive Thoughts

The opening scenes in Paris at the start of the outbreak? Genuinely got my heart pumping and my adrenaline rushing. I was actually freaked out. I wish TWD would have shown the outbreak actually happening more than they did. It would've been really interesting to see how each character ended up at the quarry, going all the way back to season 1 of TWD, but that's irrelevant lol

Camerawork is crazy good??? I mean, I don't really know anything about cameras but I thought that there were some really cool dynamic shots, especially in the flashbacks.

Isabelle is growing on me a LOT. I am so glad she is turning out to be her own character so far. I mean, I don't completely trust her because I think she definitely has her own agenda (can't really blame her), but I like her character. She hasn't annoyed me once which is crazy because even DARYL has annoyed me a few times in this episode lol

I loved the little detail of Sylvie being at the abbey when Isabelle arrives with Lily. Just a cool little detail where we see a little bit of Sylvie's story, too

The entire concept of Laurent being born to a walker is cool as hell and idc what anyone says. I wonder if him being born to a walker actually has some kind of effect on him. Of course, my first thought goes to maybe he is immune or something, or he carries the cure to the virus in his blood. I am so excited to see how that pans out. Idc if it's "ripping off" TLOU (I don't think it is tbh)

Speaking of Laurent, I have a newfound appreciation for him. He's so cute and sweet, and I felt bad for him when the children were picking on him

Lou's group is SO COOL. I love that they're a little group of children who raised themselves. Kinda reminds me of Jocelyn's kids from season 9 of TWD, but less evil. MUCH less evil. Not evil at all, actually. They remind me of the Lost Boys from the movie Hook, which is based on Peter Pan. That dinner scene was especially reminiscent of that for me

Daryl being undercover as a priest LOLIONGJWKDS

Daryl has some amazing sassy/cute moments in this episode. I think my personal favorite is when he loudly slurps down the soup at the dinner table. I also loved the little detail of Daryl starting to eat before everyone else/before they said grace, signifying how Daryl doesn't really have good table manners (which I love). It's so cute when he starts saying the prayer with food already in his mouth lol

And Norman's acting in this episode was once again so good. There's a scene when they're watching the TV where the camera slowly zooms in on Daryl. His smile begins to fade and you can just see in his eyes how much he misses home, and how much he wishes he could be with his family, even Merle, who he is probably thinking about, too, since he used to watch the show with him.

DARYL USING A MORNINGSTAR DARYL USING A MORNINGSTAR DARYL USING A MORNINGSTAR DARYL USING A MORNINGSTAR DARYL US--

That annoying American was slightly entertaining. Mostly annoying but slightly entertaining as well

Daryl and Laurent are very cute. I love how Daryl sort of relates to him in that they were both outcasts as children

Negative Thoughts

There are a few things Daryl does in this episode that rubbed me the wrong way just a tad bit. Of course I still love him but I just don't understand some of his decisions lol. Like when he let the mule go instead of just getting off his ass and taking out those walkers. He could've done it! Especially with the help of Isabelle and Sylvie. They probably could've taken out that herd without sacrificing the mule. Just kind of a stupid decision imo. Unnecessarily cruel too. I also didn't get why Daryl locked Lou in that shed. Kinda not cool? He could've just said, "hey, you stay back and I'll handle this." I didn't really see the point in having him do that :/ and he lies a lot to Lou and the kids in order to get what he wants. I mean, I get that he doesn't owe anything to these kids, but still... just seems a little callous. It's giving Carol vibes lol. They're basically making Daryl do things the way Carol does them—by lying, manipulating, and being cruel to children. I like Daryl because of his kindness, not this weird deceitfulness that he has going on suddenly. Again, I get that he is in a foreign place and these are all strangers to him so why should he care, but it just really doesn't seem like our Daryl. Other than that, I liked Daryl a lot in this episode, but there were just some little things I didn't vibe with

This episode did seem to veer away from the main plot quite a bit. I wonder if Lou's group will return later to help Daryl and the others in his group, or if they were just a one and done storyline. While I loved this little adventure, it did seem to not really add to the overall arc, and the little scene at the end with Codron walking around the abbey did seem a bit shoehorned just to remind us of the actual plot, but who knows?

Neither Positive Nor Negative Thoughts

So lets talk about the bed scene. Idk. I didn't hate it because I didn't see anything romantic there between Daryl and Isabelle, BUT it was a little like... can't you guys just have there be two beds lol. I really just think it's baiting, once again. I don't feel any romantic connection between them, and I don't think the show is necessarily trying to get that across to us, but I do think that they're like "well if people do think this is a romance, it will get them to continue watching the show and see if they get together!" So basically I think it's just a way to get people interested, but I don't think anything will happen. I think they will stay friends, otherwise it would be very awkward, at least from the way their relationship is so far

That's about all I have to say I think! Thanks for reading my thoughts. Hoping to get Chapter 2 of Begin Again out before the next episode, but no promises <3

#the walking dead: daryl dixon #twd: daryl dixon #daryl dixon #the walking dead

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mechina · 4 months

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Sending this ask because I feel like you're the one person who won't immediately think I'm splitting up chaggie because I ship charlastor, but with the introduction of Emily I feel like that's who should have been vaggie's partner.

We know vaggie has a white knight complex and doesn't seem to actually view Charlie as someone who can make her own decisions, or can be trusted to handle herself in certain situations. On top of that, I noticed something I thought was odd. Now I don't know the reasons behind it but if you closely watch, vaggie never refers to herself as Charlie's gf, nor does she refer to Charlie as her gf, or partner, or anything. Maybe it's a Pearl/rose quartz dynamic, but if that's the case then vaggie and Charlie shouldn't be together because they amplify each others worst behaviors. And to be fair to vaggie, she'll often give Charlie good advice and Charlie just kinda of ignored it? But then they never really have a conversation about this stuff, so neither can grow as characters.

So if they wanted to have a wlw ship where vaggie could be a protective girl without needing to help her partner grow as a person, Emily is right there. I especially feel like em would take offense at vaggie being punished for showing mercy and want to bring her back to heaven. Idk, I'm just spitballing but seeing welcome to heaven made me mad that this relationship feels so imbalanced but it'll probably be handwaved away when Charlie by all rights should feel super betrayed that this person who she's spent years with never told her a thing about this, leaving her blindsided in front of a court of other heaven dwellers. But I'm just rambling, I would love to hear someone's objective thoughts

As much as I WANT to like chaggie, I haven’t been able to. That’s not to say I think they should split, but the tropes with those two are INSANE. Sunshine x grumpy, overprotective x naive, gullible idiot x savior, etc. It’s just a LACK of story. What should’ve happened (in my own opinion), they legit should NOT have been together from the start. Their relationship should have taken time to develop and maybe even go into girlfriends if that’s what Viv wanted, but it was for a bonus star. Stories change all the time, though I just wish it developed better. Of course they were in a rush (the time constraint is crazy to me) so relationships haven’t had time. The songs literally fix everything??

Your words go back to my trope issue. savior complex with the girl who is naive about the world. It’s been clear that Vaggie is just stupidly protective of Charlie because Charlie doesn’t have it in her heart to be mean. Brings back the gullible idiot trope who needs to constantly be saved. Charlie lives in a box and Vaggie just HAS to be the one to save her from her own dumb decisions. They don’t talk and that’s another issue.

It magically gets fixed lol. In Vaggie’s song, she said “I’ll spend my life being your partner.” But we didn’t even get any “she’s my gf” until literally episode 5. Then she has this secret, which will again, be magically waved away if the trailer gave any indication. Their duet will be their grace I’m sure.

As far as Emily goes, that’s actually not bad tbh?? Vaggie gets cast out, Emily (the one who is ACTUALLY the embodiment of how an angel in Heaven should act) does not like this. It can resolve the power balance. Charlie does NOT need saving but because of her naivety, Vaggie has to save her.

Vaggie and Emily? They’d save each other.

And while Chaggie is canon and I’m not bothered that my ship never will be (Charlastor), I’ll never judge anyone for their opinions on certain ships until they start harassing people. Just because you like a dynamic doesn’t mean you want the w|w representation to go away.

We want the representation to be better. Sorry for the rambling and I’m not even sure I answered what you asked, but thanks for the ask. I’ve never had these before, lol.

#ask

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tragedyslayer · 1 year

Text

Neteyam x female reader! Part 1

In a universe where Spider has an older sister who happens to be on the wrong side.

Neteyam x female reader

Part 2

Characters are both 18

Warning I will use as vague descriptions as I can, however I expect throughout this fic there will be some specific mentions of hair length, body type, height, etc.

I'm new to writing fanfiction so I hope I don't write this horribly. Spider having a sister completely throws off the original plot of the movie so FYI I intend on straying pretty far from the movie as far as the story line goes. If anyone has recommendations for things to include in this fic I would absolutely love to hear them. This will be a slowwwww burn, or at least thats how i'm planning it. I hope at least one person can enjoy this lol, so enjoy!

It was time, The day I would return to the planet I was born on. The day I would return to my brother, my father, my planet. Only it was not a day to celebrate, because I was only returning to destroy it all.

The inside of my cheek was raw, all I could do was gnaw on my own flesh as I waited for my father to be reborn into his new body. I wish I could say I missed him, but it was quite the opposite. He was the last person in the galaxy I wished would have the opportunity to live twice. He died when I was young, I grew into my own without his help. It was a weird feeling to suddenly have a father again. I wanted something to go wrong, maybe who he was before would be lost and he could start fresh. Perhaps our ship would depressurize and we would all die instantly, unfortunately all the hoping and wishing in the world could not prevent the inevitable.

I raised my head at the commotion taking place in the room behind me. He was awake, freaking out at the sudden transition from not existing in any form to now being an avatar. I sighed, glancing backwards, and sure enough, it was my father.

Two days had gone by since we landed back on Pandora, my father was spending his time catching up on everything he had missed over the past 15 years. While I spent my time doing less productive things. My entire life I was trained to be a soldier, to follow in my fathers footsteps. Though I always felt like I was fighting a war that wasn't mine.

I was fortunate enough to also receive my very own avatar, however I wasnt willing to commit suicide in order to be Na’vi permanently. Besides, I always believed that it isn't right to claim a race that isnt my own. The Na’vi people were spiritual, sacred. I may not be able to stop the human race from colonizing their culture, but I could at least not take part. Well not any more than I was forced to.

My thoughts were cut short by a commanding voice through my door.

“Soldier, it's time.” I thought it was funny that my father refused to call me anything but soldier since he's been back. I suppose he missed out on too much to still recognize me as his little girl. I didn't feel a need to respond as I got off my bed, if you could even call it that, opening the door. “Yes sir”

I followed my dad and his team through the forest of Pandora. I had been in my avatar before, countless times actually. It was good for me to train in the same body as the enemy, so I could have even a chance to best them. But nothing could have ever prepared me for the feeling of being Na’vi in the thick of Pandora. In my avatar from all my senses were heightened, and all my physical abilities were multiplied, but getting to use this body in the environment it was originally adapted for is like nothing else I've ever experienced.

I watched from a distance as my squad poked and prodded at my dads final resting place. Funnily enough I remember coming here as a kid, Grace and Jake, I was so young. Now I was meant to kill my childhood companions on sight if given the opportunity. I truly can't understand my dads thirst for murdering Jake Sully and everything he loves. You would think he'd learn to let things go after two decades, but I never knew him to be the forgiving type.

A twig snapped. It was far, but not out of reach for my heightened blue ears. Something about the sound forbade me to let it go. It was so slight and quick that it could have been a hundred different things. Though my heart was telling me something far different.

While the rest of my squad was still distracted, and my father was still caught up examining his own corpse I slipped through the tree line. I was thankful for my experience with the avatar, navigating quickly, and silently through the foliage was much easier for me than any of the other avatars team human still had.

I stopped as soon as I saw them. It was a group of kids, besides one that seemed to be closer to my age, and a human boy. My throat dried as I watched them. My baby brother, it had to be him. “Miles” I whispered to myself. Next my eyes focused on a toddler she looked to be no more than 7. These kids had no idea what the hell they were getting themselves into. How naive could they be, a pit in my stomach grew at the thought of my father finding them.

The anxiety I felt for my brother and his friends swelled in my chest as I looked back over to the abandoned shuttle to see if anyone had noticed my disappearance. I let out a shaky breath in relief seeing that none of their positions had changed. I turned my head towards the Na’vi children, seeing that the eldest had disappeared from the group. My ears lifted as I raised my guard. It could have been in my head, but I didn't feel unseen anymore.

“Take the bow off your back and throw it to the ground.”

My head shot in the direction of the voice. It was the older Na’vi boy. I almost wanted to smile, no one has ever been able to sneak up on me before. These warriors were nothing like American soldiers, the reality of that has only just set in. I raised my hands in submission looking the man in the eyes. I examined his body, he was holding a knife out to me but he wasn't in striking distance.

“I don't want to hurt anybody.”

I admitted reaching for the bow on my back. The boy narrowed his eyes at me, obviously not having it. I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, realizing that no one in their right mind would want to hear out a human.

“Listen, if I wanted to I could draw an arrow before you would even realize I'm doing it, but I'm not.”

I whispered slowly, taking the bow off my back. My reasoning only seemed to agitate the boy as he gripped his knife harder. I internally scolded myself for not being better with words, even when pleading for my life I seemed arrogant.

Both of our attention was drawn away from the stand off at hand. My squad was currently capturing my brother's friends. The boy took no time to dart towards their direction, I grabbed him by the arm, pushing him behind a tree out of any wandering eye's line of sight. He glared at me, opening his mouth in protest and confusion. I muffled him with the palm of my hand, looking into his eyes. I gave him a pleading look, wordlessly begging him to trust me a second longer. His hard gaze softened and for a moment I felt a mutual understanding with him.

“I can help you”

My voice was almost silent as I pulled my hand down from his mouth. I glanced over his shoulder to find my squad walking the Na’vi group towards the abandoned ruins.

“Follow me”

I picked up my bow off the ground and dashed toward the two groups. My stride came to an abrupt stop as my arm was tugged. I glared at the culprit,

“what the hell are you-”

“Listen”

The boy cut me off and I closed my mouth. I heard bird-like sounds in the distance, they were almost indistinguishable to the natural noises of the forest. I doubt I would have noticed them if they had not been pointed out.

I gave the boy a questioning look, hoping for some kind of explanation.

“We have to go”

He urged, turning to the other direction. I was still confused, and wanted to ask this boy a million questions, but I settled on following him blindly. Some feeling deep in my gut possessed me to stay close behind him. It may have gone against all the training I've ever done, but I trusted this Na’vi boy more than I trusted my father. I turned my head backward as we fled, wanting another look at both my father and brother together. I heard the whistle of an arrow cut through the air before it shot a man from my squad in the heart. The precision and distance was bone chilling, I was thankful the boy allowed me to come with him or else I could have suffered a similar fate.

After a short while of running through the forest we came to a clearing and he slowed, I stopped behind him. I took a moment to take in our surroundings. The forest canopy opened above us allowing gabs of sunlight through the clearing. I had never seen anything so breathtaking. Everything was so still, but I could feel the surge of life all around me. I looked back to the boy who was already staring back at me.

“Why did you save me”

I questioned, If I was in his position I can't say I would have done the same.

“You said you would help.”

I pressed my lips together, sliding my bow behind my back.

“I meant I would help you and your friends not get killed, but it seems you didn't need my help.”

The boy shook his head, taking a step closer to me. He had a confident presence, but it didn't feel threatening.

“We do need your help.”

My face contorted in skepticism. Why would he want my help, why would he trust me so easily. Everything about the situation I found myself in was hard to wrap my head around.

“How could I possibly help you?”

He took in a frustrated breath, running his hand over his braided hair.

“You're a sky person mm? But you offered to help me. To help us. You aren't like them.”

I shook my head,

“You shouldn't assume things”

He continued,”I am not assuming. I know.”

I mumbled in response “Skxawng (stupid)”

His eyebrows raised in surprise after hearing a foreigner speak his native tongue. I didn't know what to do, it was unrealistic for me to agree to help him, before long they would figure out where I was and who I was with. It would be Jake Sully's betrayal all over again. And yet I found myself wanting to agree.

I gasped looking back from the direction we came from.

“Miles” I whispered looking back to the Na’vi man, continuing before he could question what I was saying.

“The boy, the human boy. Who is he?”

I urged, to think he had been here all this time. Living amongst the enemy, all he knew was this foreign world.

“Spider? He's our friend, our brother.”

I shook my head, impatiently continuing my interrogation.

“But where did he come from?”

The boy looked at me with furrowed brows, making a shrugging gesture as he spoke,

“He is the old military commander's son, when he died Spider had nowhere else to go.”

I covered my mouth in shock. I was so sure it was him but hearing it confirmed, it made it so real.I really saw my brother, and he really lived a happy life here on Pandora. He really had a family, and I really wasn't a part of it.

#neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x oc #neteyam fluff #sully family #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you

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