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arcielee · 8 months

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Ours never knew peace.

Summary: On the morning of the Great Tourney of Harrenhal, Lyanna Stark's granddam visits to give her an heirloom, a necklace with a sapphire stone... Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader Word Count: 7600 Warnings: Third POV and first POV, AFAB, mentions of infidelity, graphic violence, character deaths, and there is a hyperlink for the smut, so mind those warnings too. Author’s Note: I definitely played with the timeline of the Dance of the Dragons a lot to fit with the narrative. Also, the idea is the bloodline stems from Cregan Stark's sister, which is why Lyanna's granddam is still kicking. Also, this was not beta read, please feel free to DM me any mistakes you may find 💜 A huge thank you to my Tumblr kindred spirits: to @aegonx for this inspiring gifset, and to my darling @itbmojojoejo for these perfect dividers 🦝💜 Also, to Hozier. I started writing this in June and had not touched it until I started listening to Unreal Unearth. The title for this and the smutty one-shot are from the song Francesca.

“I have a gift for you, my dear.”

Lyanna was leaning against the ornate balustrade and watching how the sun rose above Gods Eye. She drank in the sight of how the rays danced against the blue-green gemstone surface, shimmering with the rippling waves that met with the shoreline and towards the center where the Isle of Faces jutted upwards; she saw the weirwoods shift lazily with the breeze, its red foliage breaking away and littering the laketop, like drops of blood.

She pulled her eyes away to see her granddam standing in her room, poised with her walking cane; a handmaiden was in tow, carrying a wooden box that had once been intricately carved into, though its detailing was now worn with age.

Her granddamn was the matriarch of House Stark and the only mother figure she had ever known as hers passed away when she was very young, leaving Lyanna with her father and three brothers: Brandon, Eddard, and Benjen. Though she originally had come from a noble house in Oldcastle, she had been proud to don the grays and whites of House Stark, dignified in such a way it seemed that she was born into and not just married.

Her reputation was notorious and though some would consider her shrewd, Lyanna knew her granddam had a sharp mind and wit, an undeniable ability to see beyond the façades of court with her storm colored eyes; she was gallant, devoted to her husband until his last breath and remained in Winterfell after, her devotion extending to the North.

“This is my home,” she had explained as if it was the simplest thing. “Always.”

Time now showed itself in silver streaks, a bold contrast with her dark hair that had been meticulously combed and knotted at the base of her neck, showing the severity that lined her features. This look alone had the other handmaidens–who before had been aimlessly flitting around her room, coaxing Lyanna to ready for the day’s events–quickly excuse themselves, allowing her a moment alone with her granddaughter.

“Set it there,” and the remaining handmaiden jumped to command, placing the wooden box on the vanity before following after the others.

There was the click of her cane with her sure steps, one hand resting on the gilded handles and the other coming to place on the edge of the wooden box, its brass hinges groaning in response to her opening it. Placed against the velvet inlay was a necklace of a peculiar silver that did not shine, but seemed to permeate a strength despite its delicate, celtic chains interwoven with one another; its pendant, a sapphire stone no larger than a silver pence, was nestled in the same style, curled around to hold it in place.

Only the stone gleamed, just like the water’s surface–alluring, calling, but she kept her hand at her side. “It is beautiful,” Lyanna acknowledged.

“It is reforged Valyrian steel,” her granddam continued, and she was pleased to see how her eyes widened with a reverence for the rare medium. “This is a heirloom that has been passed down, once belonging to your thrice over granddam. It is something for you to wear today.”

Lyanna remained rooted, only a wistful sigh in response. “This is my duty in life now, to be adorned in gems and silks and rare silvers, just to be shown off at this event.”

“It is our lot in life, yes,” her tone cut through the self-wallow. “Lord Whent wants nothing more than to parade the money he poured into this cursed castle, to show off his simple-minded daughter to the highest bid. The queen of love and beauty,” and her laugh was sharp, “only her brothers would defend that nepotist title!”

Lyanna felt her lips curl; she loved her granddam, dearly, especially when she was unabashed with her bold opinions. Her eyes fell back to the necklace. “Love and beauty,” Lyanna murmured. “No man has want for a clever wife.”

It was her turn to sigh. “This can be true, but some are fortunate with their matches.”

“Robert has no want for a clever wife,” Lyanna continued as if she had not spoken. “He wants something docile and pretty at his side while he wags his cock at every set of tits in Westeros.” She could see how the inside sagged with the weight of the necklace and a bundle of parchment that was tucked beneath, hidden in the folds of the fabric.

Her granddam plucked the paper bundled together with string and then moved back towards one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace. “My dear girl, love is always unexpected. Perhaps in time, despite the faults you each share,” she gave a knowing look as Lyanna moved back towards the bed, “you, hopefully, may have a gradual love and respect grow between.”

“He is already convinced it is love,” she sat back on the mattress, sinking against the goose feather pillows piled at the head. “But it is with this idea of me. He does not know me, who I am truly or what it is that drives me…” her eyes were drawn again to the box, opened still, and to the glint of the sapphire. “How did this come to our possession anyway?”

“It was a gift,” her granddam scoffed, untying the string and smoothing the letters on her lap.

Lyanna closed her eyes a moment, her own smile playing at her lips. “Yes,” her tone forced, “but who would have gifted this to her to begin with?”

Her granddam hummed, now her turn to smile. “How clever of you to ask, sweet girl,” but she did not answer Lyanna. “I saw how you are blossoming into a lovely young woman, especially after last night’s banquet,” and she saw that her granddaughter grinned, cheeky. “Ancestry has its weight with House Stark, and I thought now is the time to gift this necklace, just as your grandsire gifted it to me, and how it was given to your mother, who listened to me read this, years ago,” and she gestured to the letters.

Lyanna reached for the pillows, fluffing them and sinking back into them, her arms folding behind to hold her head upright. “I would never deny my granddam of my company,” she teased.

“Yes, how kind of you,” her tongue wet her lips, her eyes flitting over the first page. “Now shut up and let my old eyes read.”

And so she began.

It was the unmartyred act of my mother to bring me into the world. My father was a proud man, an honorable man who would never blame me, but I could see how he would wilt in my presence; perhaps it was that I reminded him of her as I grew, reminded him of the cost of her life so I may live instead. My brother, Cregan, kept his grief quiet, though it clouded his storm-gray eyes with this pain, this hurt that shadowed behind his irises.

With the unsaid, I know my existence haunted my father, Lord Rickon Stark, the Warden of the North, to his grave. It was only then that Cregan truly recognized me with our sorrow now shared, as well as the burden as our uncle Bennard was quick to come to Winterfell, bringing his shrewd wife and his sons, our wretched cousins.

I could only watch from the shadows with how Cregan fought to stay afloat with the smothering regency brought with them; our uncle was cunning, wishing to isolate my brother, which was why it was decided for me to be sent away to King’s Landing. It was under the promised lady-in-waiting for Princess Helaena Targaryen, though its true intention was for me to marry a Targaryen prince, for the opportunity to have a Stark within the royal inner circle and a direct line to the Iron Throne.

Cregan hugged me farewell, the whispered promise that he would write, and I was ushered into the carriage, cramped with my trunks, and my aunt Margaret, with her wardrobe and endless idylls of how I would lure King Aegon II.

I reminded her that King Viserys was not dead, and of the crowned Princess Rhaenyra. She bristled with her response: “No woman will ever rule the Seven Kingdoms.” She embellished this, and her inane plans to make me a princess; I had just turned ten and three with the soured taste of her words the further south we traveled.

We arrived at the capital almost two months later, coming as the last of the daylight disappeared in the horizon, with the full moon and stars already glowing in response. I wished to sleep, but was forced to bathe, to be soaked in a gilded tub with rose petals that floated on the surface while hands flitted over combing and scrubbing and cleaning every bit of me, all while my aunt hovered with her critiques.

The next day was our debut luncheon, allowing my formal introduction to the House of the Dragon. My aunt was peevish that the king did not join, we still met with the queen and Lord Hand, who introduced Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena.

It was said that Prince Daeron was away in Oldtown and Prince Aemond would not attend either, but did not speak more of it.

The prince and the princess held their old blood features, the shades of purple in their gazes and the gold-silver of their hair, a contrast to their mother’s auburn and her dark eyes that were watchful and worrisome.

Prince Aegon already had an exhaustion lining his face, with shadows that stretched beneath his lilac eyes, something heavy for someone only two years older than myself. In time I would learn that his shoulders sagged with the forced Hightower expectation placed, and its accompanying slow suffocation. The prince responded to it as well as any adolescent with unwanted responsibility: to rebel.

The princess–who we learned, to the woe of my aunt–was his betrothed, but that day she also became my savior, in a sense. Though she carried her own burdens, something deeply rooted within the ichor of Old Valyria that surged her veins, her company was enjoyable, nonetheless.

I enjoyed my time spent with the princess, learning of her fascination with entomology, with a favoritism that stemmed towards arachnids; though I found it unsettling, I still knew it was better company than my aunt. I was devoted to the task to fill mason jars with dirt, leaves, sticks to create little habitats for her ever growing collection, and it became our daily ritual to walk the gardens of the Red Keep, always in search of more to add or to release others who dutifully served their time in their glass confines.

One thing I noted was her utterances, her singsong riddles on repeat. “Be mindful,” she said with a hum one afternoon.

“Of what, princess?”

“A song of ice and fire,” her eyes were glassy, sorrowful. “It is a tragedy, again and again…”

My evenings were held captive by my aunt and her ever growing determination to force her way into the royal social circles; her daily mantra to remind me of the two remaining Targaryen princes, how I need my focus to be on snaring one of them.

I knew that Prince Daeron was a child and away in Oldtown, which left the second son of King Viserys, Prince Aemond, who I thought peculiar and quiet. He was isolated the first six months after we arrived, and I heard the whispered incident at Diftmark that had involved the crowned princess and her bastard sons; I also learned how it ended with the loss of his eye, but that was not learned until Princess Helaena brought me to visit with her brother.

“It would be good for him,” and her lilac eyes sparkled.

He was sullen, but rightfully so; he was still bandaged and refused the milk of the poppy, though I knew he was hurting, his anguish was vicariously heard with the roars of his dragon, Vhagar, whose bellows rattled the entire capital, leaving the inhabitants uneasy.

Eventually, Prince Aemond healed enough to leave his room, though the queen was still adamant he not venture outside of the Keep. I watched him, a dragon caged, stalking the corridors, a dark passing in search of confrontation, his unbridled want for vengeance and his inability to see it through; a tormented unrest, an unruly anger from the injustice of what happened that fateful night at Driftmark.

I had been present for over a year and would inevitably have the misfortune to cross his warpath, alone, without my shield of his sister. It was a foreboding presence that drained the air, a palpable anger that hung heavy, and I flinched, perched by the window, curled up with Ten Thousand Ships.

“What are you doing here?” He spat.

I remember how his anger darkened his features shown, but the rest was still hidden beneath bandages wrapped around his silver head. “Reading,” was all I dared reply, refusing to look away from the pages as if the very tale of Nymeria held me captive.

“They educate the women in the North?”

His words were mocking and this is when I pulled my eyes away to meet with his one uncovered. “The North does not only teach their women how to read, but how to fight as well, my prince,” my tongue had a life of its own I could not control, sneering his title in return.

Her granddam paused a moment, peering over the edge to see how Lyanna had shifted; she was now closer towards the foot of the bed, curled up with one of the pillows, her eyes glowing with admiration.

“My great-great-great granddam was fearless,” Lyanna concluded.

She chuckled in response. “It is a trait in Stark women, that is for certain,” she clucked her tongue. “Stark men also search for strong women to survive the winters. Maybe another day I will tell you about your great-great-great aunt Alysanne Blackwood.”

Her eyes shone. “I would like that very much.”

And then, her granddam continued.

I would learn that Prince Aemond was just lonely; allowed out of his quarters, his mar was forever isolating with how the castled treated him with kid gloves, like an open wound that never healed despite the jagged red of new flesh mended, cutting from his brow to his cheek and peeking beneath the eyepatch he took to wearing. Though he would never apologize for that day in the library, the next time I found him within the walls I saw he was lost in the pages of Winter’s Kings, or the Legends and Lineages of the Starks of Winterfell.

I could only assume it was all the apology that could be expected of a dragon prince.

Our friendship was something predetermined by the gods, or this was what Princess Helaena wholeheartedly believed; for a time, we were a trio of lonely souls akin and knitted together until the princess inevitably became pregnant with the twins. And then, there was the subtle change of our dynamic with the seasons passed, an initial wariness that settled in the edges of his features that only softened whenever I took his hand and pulled him forward.

Perhaps he believed that I would abandon him for his sister’s company, which would be expected of her lady-in-waiting. But I did not.

Instead I indulged the prince and his company, and we became inseparable; whether we visited with his sister, playing with the little prince and princess, while Helaena budding with a third, or going to the courtyards to train under Ser Criston’s watchful eye and my aunt’s apparent disdain. It was then that the evenings became our own and spent in the library of the Keep; it was here that Aemond dared remove his eyepatch, the sapphire stone that showed brilliant from his scarred socket.

The first time, I stepped closer so his nervous exhale fanned my cheeks; I could see the plumes of pinks to his features, my fingers ghosting his jawline as I attempted his ancient tongue. “Gevie.”

Beautiful.

Prince Aemond was respectful, always, but he was also fearless with me, allowing the same sense of freedom in return, to speak my mind as I always had. But I faltered with what I truly wished to say: that the years crafted him beautiful as any Targaryen prince, with sharp edges chiseled from marble stone, his lips that curled with a perpetual smirk as he voiced his peculiar insight which always led to a good natured battlement between us, leaving me flushed.

And then the day came that he took my hand, that his palm now enveloped my own.

It was the familiar touch now paired with a feeling, a fluttering in the pit of my stomach that I could not place, though writing these words allows a clearer perspective with the retrospect: that I was falling in love with him.

My aunt grew more insufferable with the passing days, though I expected as much with the letters I exchanged with Cregan. I knew his every action in Winterfell, what he was learning, of his sweetheart Lady Arra Norrey, my new nephew, but mostly of how our uncle continued to tighten his hold. My brother was a wolf, restless, and spoke that his hour was coming; and meanwhile, I continued to play my role, a simpleminded girl from the North.

My aunt tsked. “He will never see you as more than a plaything,” as if this was a cruel fate. In truth I was still so unaware of what was growing within the confines of my heart, but I knew that I only wished to remind at his side, devoted, present, always.

So when Aemond asked that I finally become acquainted with Vhagar, I went. I remembered how my hand fit within his as he pulled me to follow his steps, moving through the ingresses that weaved with the castle walls. We broke out to follow the coastline, a crisp salt air and the clouds covering the sun, heavy with the threat of rain, but Aemond promised we would rise above them.

I followed his long steps until we came to where Vhagar waited for her rider, diligent, alert.

Dragons are magnificent creatures, and I swear them sentient with the bond I saw between Aemond and the she-dragon. Fear trickled my spine, but Aemond held onto my hand and I tightened in response to the massive eyes that focused on us, her pupils constricting in query. Aemond held up his other hand, the honey spill of his soothing voice of his old tongue to coax her and allow me to climb aback.

I then felt the gaze of Aemond and refused to allow my fear to root me, moving to take the bottom rung of the rope ladder; he was pleased, a hum, the slight curl of his lips, and followed behind me with his promise that he would not let me fall. At the top, he pushed past to settle into the saddle, then reached to pull me behind and I settled against his backside.

“Just hold onto me,” he murmured, bringing my arms around his slender waist.

This moment I was adamantly aware that he was no longer that sullen child that sneered within his gilded cage, but against my hold that Aemond was solid, lithe, and so warm with a woodsy musk mixed with smoke against his skin.

Pressed against, I was able to feel his low baritone command Vhagar, followed by her jolted steps forward, the beating of her wings to take flight. To feel this power beneath you is indescribable; I could not help my scream, my laughter from the exhilaration that that spate my veins; I dared not close my eyes, tears streaming, and I peered to marvel at how small the capital seemed beneath, how large the shadow we cast overhead.

It was a newfound euphoria, and I felt my cheeks burn from the crisp air above the gray clouds, but I also knew it was from my close proximity to Aemond. I held onto him as we soared out over Blackwater Bay, and sighed from the touch of his gloved hand, from the heat that permeated through the leather when he placed it over my own.

And I knew then that I never wished to let him go.

He eventually brought Vhagar back to land onto the grassy knolls outside the city; the afternoon was growing late but there was still enough light to return. Aemond warned that my legs would be shaky and again he moved first, again with the promise he would not let me fall.

I still trembled when he set me on the ground, his large palms kept their hold on my waist and my hands rested on his broad shoulders. My eyes were wide admiring the beauty of his mussed, silver braid, his cheeks lined with his dimples with his pursed grin. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Enjoy myself?” I was incredulous, I was a mess; windswept and blooming red, a grinning fool with tear-streaked cheeks, “Aemond, you showed me the heavens.” And a boldness pressed me onto my toes, my lips against his.

It was my first kiss; it was a heartbeat’s length, it was everything, and when I pulled back, I fell solid to the earth, my soles grounded back on that gassy knoll. I looked up into his bicolored gaze, the lavender of one eye and the gleam of sapphire for the other that stared back.

Aemond was unreadable in that moment, and I felt my blood surge from my heart and pour into my face; the quiet that settled between us the same length of the years I had spent in King’s Landing, a choking regret that burned in my throat with the thought that I had ruined everything built between us.

Then he kissed me back.

And I felt alive once more with the touch of his arm that curled around my waist, how his other hand followed the curve of my spine, tangling into my hair and holding me to capture my mouth. His lips were warm and soft and his tongue clever in a way that drew the very breath from my lungs. I melted against him, my fingertips soft to follow the sharp contours of his jaw, trailing his neck and grasping his collar to bring him even closer.

We only parted for air; the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath his riding leathers, the crimson on his cheeks with his quiet confession, something he held close to his heart.

“For how long?” I breathed

And he thought for a moment. “Always.”

To take his hand now was finding a piece that I did not know was missing from me; our fingers interlaced in a way that felt akin as if I held my own hand, though I knew it was him from the warmth of his skin, from the fire in his blood. By now the tendrils of dusk began to curl over the city, its amber hues bold against the blues and purples of the coming nightfall, but we continued our leisure pace back, Aemond and I.

We were greeted by the gold cloaks at the gates and they escorted us back, and though he did not let go, I saw that it was no longer Aemond who held my hand but the second son of King Viserys, a Targaryen prince. He was stoic, but this time I could tell the other emotions that flittered beneath, his uncertainty of what awaited, but above that was his determination.

We finally came to the barbican of the Keep where we were greeted by his queen mother, my aunt, and several White Cloaks.

Relief washed over the queen while my aunt raged, lifting her skirts to meet us in the courtyard, her nails biting with her grip on my arm and pulling me back; the rushed spill of her words, “I cannot believe this unseemly behavior of a lady, unchaperoned with a prince! We are leaving this moment–”

I tried to twist away but she held on still, a madwoman. Aemond moved after, quick, and his anger burning from him and his long legs moved to block her path. “She will not be leaving.”

The finality of his words, the barrier his form created halted her at once and I felt my heart between my teeth. “My prince,” she stammered in response. “We must leave this very moment! We have imposed on your hospitality far too long as it is, and when my lord husband hears of her behaviors–”

But she was unaware that Cregan and I wrote, dutifully; he shared his life within the walls of Winterfell, as well as his growing concern with the regency our uncle imposed still. She also did not know the newest letter I had received, how my brother was now the proper Warden of the North and our uncle imprisoned; my aunt paled with my words and it was commanded for her to be taken away. She did not leave quietly, her wails echoed and I watched impassively, knowing her every action was a self-serving and a selfish ploy for power for herself, her husband, for those wretched cousin kin in the North.

And I knew I would not miss any of them.

Ever the diplomat, the queen stepped forward with her congratulations for my brother, her condolences for the betrayal within our family, her practiced concern for my well being and its shift to confusion that knitted between her brows when she saw how I smiled at her son. She offered my escort back to Winterfell, but I was quick to decline as I knew I could not leave Aemond.

I saw the understanding began to roll over, and she then asked her son if he loved me. Aemond responded, “I believe I always have, mother,” and I knew I loved him in return.

It was decided that the ceremony would be held in the Royal Sept, and chaperoned until, though Aemond stole a moment to gift me this very necklace. I could feel the power of Old Valyria thrum from the metal, adoring how it was woven around the sapphire stone; he told me it was a piece kept from the same stone fitted for his eye.

I lifted my hair and turned my back towards him, my skin prickling from his touch to clasp the necklace around my throat.

He hummed. “Gevie.”

Only a week later, and the service seemed surreal. I felt his warmth that held to the robe he brought around my shoulders, the touch of my palm on top of his large hand kept me grounded while the Septon wrapped the ribbon around; shy glances shared, me to Aemond and seeing his gaze on the sapphire stone beneath my collarbone. The muted words called for a kiss and I burned when Aemond captured my mouth with his own.

The celebration after was an intimate meal with the king, who was a man withering away beneath a gilded mark, the queen, his siblings, and the Lord Hand, who seemed pleased with the idea of solidifying a truce with the North.

But I could not think of politics this night, not with the subtle touches from Aemond, a warmth that curled in my lower abdomen when he inevitably took my hand, his low voice that tickled against my ear. “Come with me, my sweet wife,” as we walked towards his quarters.

Her granddam stopped abruptly, flushed. “Well, you understand what is implied.”

“Understand what?” Lyanna quirked her brow.

It was a pregnant pause that allowed her eyes steel onto her granddaughter, and Lyanna returned her gaze with a cheeky, taunting grin.

“It would serve you well to not agitate your elders.”

“What a bore I would be if I was just another docile woman of nobility?” Lyanna countered, gleefully. “Granddam, Robert has bastards and I am no fool, I do not believe his immaculate conception claims…”

“Yes, you are very bright,” she huffed. “Now hush up and let me read.”

Our marital bliss that followed left me in a haze; Aemond was not one for public displays of affection and how I craved his subtle touches, his lingering hand that would have me blushing furiously in response. He would only hum, his perpetual smirk that played on his lips with my every visceral response to him.

I wrote to Cregan and informed him of our union; he was quick to respond with his congratulations, as well as his newfound concerns, asking if it was true that the crowned princess had sired bastards with the intention to make them her heirs without ownership of her actions.

“Our father was honorable until his last breath,” he wrote, “I would not besmirch his memory or our house, our legacy, for an oath made for bastard-born heirs to the Iron Throne.”

This was a topic I had already discussed in length with Aemond, even before we had even kissed. I was aware of his scar and its cause, and I knew of the old blood and the features lacking when it came to his nephews, something made apparent for the claimant hearings of Dirftmark, as well as the cruel response of Prince Daemon when a lord spoke out loud what the court was thinking.

I answered my brother truthfully, knowing full well that this would sway the North behind Prince Aegon II.

And then King Viserys met his inevitable demise; the small council moved quick to announce that his final words were that he wished his firstborn son to take the crown. Aegon panicked, but my husband and Ser Criston fetched him, washed him, fed him, but also comforted him.

It would be Ser Criston who coaxed him to the coronation, to be the one to place the crown of steel and rubies on top of his silver head, announcing: “King Viserys is dead, long live King Aegon!”

My husband would be sent to Storm’s End to negotiate a betrothal for his brother, Daeron, to one of the Four Storms. It resulted in tragedy, or vengeance on who spoke the narrative. The room stilled with Aemond’s words, the unspoken terror in the queen’s large, brown eyes, the shock that lined the severe features of the Lord Hand, but it was his brother, King Aegon wearing the Conqueror’s Crown who spoke that Aemond had shown the true blood of a dragon.

But in the quiet quarters we shared, Aemond lamented the loss of life, the war it started, a guilt that weighed heavily, and once more I saw the sorrowful prince when I first came to King’s Landing.

“There will be repercussions for my actions,” he rasped, unable to meet with my eyes. “I have ruined my namesake, and I have cursed our family…”

“War seemed inevitable,” I began slowly, my hands careful to hold his jaw, to bring his gaze to my own. “And with it comes rash decisions, with impossible choices to be made…I trust it was not intentional, but even if it was, cursed or not, I am still yours, husband.” A soft kiss to seal my words. “Always.”

War and its bloodshed was rampant in Westeros, and my brother wrote they would travel South when winter ended to help King Aegon with his rightful claim. I feared for the delay, for what would follow Storm’s End, and how it seemingly unleashed the Rogue Prince.

Hired men with the monikers Blood and Cheese came in the night, and I knew them to be sent for me, as one repeated, “An eye for an eye, a son for son,” but followed with his slow realization, “she is not a son,” before his sword was drawn and struck Prince Jaehaerys.

The screams of Helaena resounded against the cobblestone; Aemond found us covered in blood, his rage and his grief conflicting on his angular features. The king cried for vengeance for his firstborn son, to search for these men and place their heads on spikes; the kingdom was repulsed by the murder of the princeling, a martyr made with his blood spilled.

Aegon’s bloodlust made for rash decisions and the battle of Rook’s Rest; though one dragon and its rider slain, its cost was the king crippled in a way that he was not fit to rule. So Aemond stepped forward to take the title Prince Regent and the Protector of the Realm, a natural role that was suited for the second son.

The Rogue Prince struck against the Riverlands, torching until ash remained. In response, the now Prince Regent and Ser Criston left to claim Harrenhal.

I was told to wait, to remain at the side of our grieving queen, my sister by all accounts; I watched over sweet Helaena, coaxing her to eat, washing her, sitting alongside her in the haunting silence of the quarters that somehow still echoed her screams from that fateful night. We were often left alone, as the maesters and the dowager queen never left King Aegon’s side, and I remained with her until I received the latest letter from Aemond.

Harrenhal had been dispelled of every Strong traitor to the crown, and he spoke of a witch he wished me to meet, that I was to leave King’s Landing and be by his side, as the gods ordained.

A quick kiss to the silver head of Helaena and I left the castle, careful to retrace our steps that led to the coast and I continued until I was back on the grassy knolls from what felt like a lifetime ago. I waited the skies until I felt the rumbled call of Vhagar in the distance, gleeful when she finally landed and watched my prince descend to envelope me in his arms, his whispered adoration, “My love, my sweet wife.”

We returned to Harrenhal to meet with the witch he spared, a hushed reverence when he told me of her abilities. “She sees much and more.”

I could see she was hardened by life, but her expression was kind when she greeted us; her eyes roamed around, watchful, looking through to my bones and only then did I understand what my husband meant.

At supper, we sat around the table, along with Ser Criston, and her eyes watched the flicker of candlelight, the flames licking her irises, before she spoke: “Madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.”

Aemond finished chewing before he asked her. “And I am which?”

Alys’ eyes were black, her painted lips curled and framed around her pearl teeth. “To be the greatness, you must end the madness,” was all that she offered, and then, “the Rogue Prince is coming.”

Ser Criston looked uneasy, but it was a silent understanding in regards to her statement, something that pressed heavily on us both. King Aegon could only have a true chance to rule the realm if his sister lost the power she had with her husband, the Rogue Prince; it was known that he was unruly, untamed, but loyal to a fault, and willing to see it through to its brutal end.

That night, we fell back into an intimate embrace, cherishing the feeling of skin to skin–

Her granddam was crimson. “Oh, my, I believe I should skip this as well–”

She watched her granddam a moment, the intrusive thought to take the letters for her own readthrough, but it was muted by a growing sadness that began to settle in the edges of her sharp features. Lyanna knew well the history of the Dance of the Dragons, something scrawled on scrolls and tomes, its tragedy saved in ink and tucked away.

And still, she had to know this truth.

“Please,” and her voice was soft. “Please, continue.”

And granddam did.

It was the 22nd day of the 5th moon and we waited on the shores of Gods Eye, myself, Aemond, and the witch. Ser Criston rode North to meet with my brother, and we remained, waiting.

It had been a vision for Alys, something sinister; it was no surprise when the wyrm screeched its arrival, circling above, wary of Vhagar, before finally landing. Prince Daemon had an arrogance with his dismount, with his walk towards us.

There was a symmetry as they squared towards one another; the Rogue Prince was cloaked with the past and my Aemond embodied the future, the true hope for House Targaryen. My husband faced him, unflinching, his brow furrowed with his ever present determination, while Daemon rolled his eyes over the each of us, sucking his teeth.

Aemond broke the silence. “You were a fool to come alone.”

“Were I not alone, you would not have come,” Daemon was amused.

But it did not deter my dragon. “Yet you are, and here I am,” he sighed. “You have lived too long, nuncle.”

“On that much we agree.”

The prince retreated to his wyrm and Aemond looked to me, his eye pleading, the glassy lavender that bore through my skin, and the gleam of sapphire for the other. He then dipped forward to kiss me and the tears pearling in the corners of my eyes spilled onto my cheeks at the taste of him, the touch of him; I knew I could never imagine anyone else. Those words stilled on my tongue, how I wanted him to beg to stay with me, but I also knew that he must.

“Do not say it,” my voice broke, hushed against our kiss swollen lips. “Just come back to me.”

His two fingers pressed against the sapphire pendant I wore, before leaning forward to press his lips to my hairline, and then he climbed aback Vhagar, his lithe body quick to mount. I remained on the sand with the witch at my side, and we watched these winged beasts rise above us.

Dragons are truly magnificent, but they are also equally deadly. I trusted Vhagar was loyal to Aemond, but also knew it matched by the bond shared between Prince Daemon and his wyrm. It was said that Targaryens are closer to gods than to men, and I believed this as I watched them on dragonback, circling above the massive lake. Their roars vibrated through to our bones, the snapping of the jaws like cracks of lighting and their flames that singed the threads of my gown from my place on the shore.

My eyes did not leave, and I asked Alys. “Will he live?”

She was quiet for a moment. “The memory of him will live on,” and I felt her hand reach and touch my stomach.

And all I could do was hold onto my pendant with prayers to the old golds, to the new gods for mercy for my husband, whose child I carried.

They did not listen.

It was a clash of scale and bone, something that reverberated to Harrenhal and rattled the castle walls that still stood. The wyrm’s screams were cut short as the massive maw of Vhagar clamped onto its neck, and its talons flailed and cut deep into the old dragon’s underside. Blood rained onto the lake and I watched, struck with mortification at the dull glint of Valyrian armor, the flash raise of Dark Sister, and I knew it was over.

I remained on the shore as the waves created from the fall of dead dragons crashed against the sand, a blood foam that flooded and wet my skirts. I remained still as the sun tucked beneath the horizon, until I heard the call of the witch.

“My lady, the wolves have arrived.”

This would be the shift of power needed for King Aegon II; the Rogue Prince was dead and his men fell to the sword under the command of my brother and Ser Criston. Cregan was shocked to see me and I was stoic still, dumbstruck with my grief that did not feel real; we returned to King’s Landing with the Northern army, quick to dethrone Rhaenyra and place her in the cells with the company of all the lords who supported her.

King Aegon was scarred cruelly with a gimp to his steps, but he made his way to the Iron Throne, his crown of rubies and steel, and greeted his mother and the queen. This joyous moment died as I was tasked to share the news of the death of Aemond, of my husband and father of my unborn child; we cried our heartbreak, but I had no tears left.

This pivotal moment would be known as the Hour of the Wolf by our history. It will speak of the heroism of Prince Aemond and what he sacrificed to kill the Rogue Prince, of how my brother descended onto the capital with a vengeance and helped return the throne to its rightful heir. The casualties of war included the bastard princes, as well as both sons of the king.

When King Aegon learned that Prince Daeron the Daring met his fatal end, he decided mercy on the remaining Targaryen princelings, Aegon III and Viserys II, with his solemn vow to raise them as his own, as his heirs to the Iron Throne.

Cregan served as Lord Hand through my pregnancy, for the birth of my darling Lysara with a patch of silver that showed against her dark curls and her eyes the same as her father’s, lavender. My brother had also been widowed but met the Lady Alysanna Blackwood, a woman I admired fiercely, and Lysara was smitten with, and was thrilled when I learned I could call her sister.

It was then Cregan asked to be relieved so he could return to the North, to his son, and I asked to go with him. My time in King’s Landing was over, with every stone haunted with presence of Aemond; I already swore I would never marry again, would not dare have another set of hands touch and taint the memory of his hands against my body, his touch forever etched onto my skin and seeded into the marrow of my bones.

Aemond would return to me at night, a silver dream, my body thrumming with the warmth of his touch, his gentle kiss, the low murmur of his voice, but it always ended the same: my realization when my hands pressed to his chest and felt no heartbeat.

That I would never feel it again.

The pain of losing him has not dimmed nor diminished with time, but I do not mind it as it serves as my reminder that he was real, and that the love we shared was real.

As the witch predicted, Aemond also still lived within Lysara who was solemn, brilliant, and as determined and stubborn as he had been. I made sure to do an annual trip to King’s Landing, allowing her to meet her granddam, her royal family, and so that my daughter could learn that her blood not only held that of the Andals, the first men, but also of the fire that licks within her veins.

Which is also why I write this, along with the gift of the necklace. It holds legacy, but also the reminder of the words Queen Helaena spoke to me when we were girls, something said a lifetime ago and before I could comprehend the weight of them.

There is something in the blood of House Stark that calls out to these dragons, perhaps an ancient power of the old gods or a kindred spirit, the disparate bond of ice and fire, a clash that is brilliant, violent, and tragic, always.

As she once said: a song of ice and fire, it is a tragedy, again and again…

It ended with a finality that rested against her chest. This was a tragic history of the crown, something already written with facts and dates, but this was a personal storying stemming from the blood of Stark woman, and only now did Lyanna begin to understand how the stories remained so vivid, so detailed despite its years of retelling.

But also…

“What does this mean for me?” Her voice was soft, an almost childlike naivety to her tone. “I am already engaged to Robert Baratheon.”

Her granddam watched her, a tight lipped smile in response as her mind returned to the feast of last night, to the looks shyly exchanged between her granddaughter and the crowned prince, Rhaegar Targaryen, as he played his harp for her. It left her unsettled with a hunch, an inkling about this interaction.

Instead she agreed. “You are right,” and she sighed. “Let me help you get dressed for the tourney.”

The new Harranhal swelled with the life for the festivities, with the kingdoms’ best sent in response of Lord Whent’s invites; the new cobblestone seemed bright against the darkened foundation that still held, its ghosts trapped still and trampled underfoot by the crowds as the seats filled, the echoing chattered excitement that vibrated.

It dimmed with a hushed reverence to see Prince Rhaegar Targaryen entering the field on his steed; his lavender eyes scanned the masses, an intent to spot one soul in particular, and she unknowingly called to him with her sweet smile, by the glint of the sapphire that rested against her chest.

There's not one thing that I would change.

Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @snowprincesa1 @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @darylandbethfanforever9 @namelesslosers

arcie's masterlist

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x stark!reader #tragic romance #inspired by hozier #ours never knew peace #rhaegar targaryen #lyanna stark #rhaegar x lyanna

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secondbeatsongs · 2 years

Note

Hello! I'm Julie from Cariona and I just want to ask if you're interested in doing ads/promotions here on Tumblr? If yes, how much do you charge per reblog?

For proof of legitimate promotions, you can check @catchymemes, @sulfatto, @isnt, and many others.

Website for reference: http://cariona.com Over 200 five star Facebook reviews: https://www.facebook.com/carionaproducts/reviews

Please feel free to respond here or reach out to us on [email protected] for more details! Thank you once again and have a great week!

absolutely fascinating that you decided to send this as an ask, when you also DM'd me. unfortunately, you may realize that this was a mistake - you see, asks can be responded to publicly.

so, allow me to respond:

hi, Julie! I'd never heard about Cariona before, so I decided to go poking around, and I learned something!

well, I learned a few things, actually. from your site, Cariona seems to be a small business that sells reusable menstrual products. and while I will never advertise a product that I haven't used, there's nothing wrong with wanting people to promote your company.

I have, however, found a few problems.

the first thing I found was this post by @crafiet from May 12th of last year, saying that shortly after making a purchase on your website, her debit card info was leaked, and used to make facebook ad purchases.

it seems that at least back then, your payment system was insecure. I'm really hoping you've fixed that, because. yikes.

and when I messaged crafiet to ask if it was okay if I linked to her post, she also mentioned that even though your website says you ship from Georgia, her package came shipped from China, and took a long time to arrive.

that's pretty sketchy.

the next thing I found was some folks talking about receiving cards with their orders that have a QR code on them with the words "Scan For God's Message To You", and that on the other side, have this bible verse:

O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is. Psalm 63:1

fun fact! that's from the King James Version (which I have a lot of thoughts about, but I'm not going to get into that right now).

additional fun fact! that particular psalm is from that time David fled to the wilderness because Jonathan's dad was trying to kill him.

and that's why I have to talk about the verses that follow it:

(ID in alt text; link to the NIV version if you want it)

so...are we like 100% sure it's god that David is thinking about here? because...I mean...that's pretty horny, right? and all of this while on the run from his boyfriend's dad?

I'm not saying anything, but like...¯\_(ツ)_/¯

it's a weird verse to choose for this, that's all.

anyway, back to you, Cariona: after seeing people talking about the bible verse cards, I decided to poke around your website more, and allll the way at the bottom of it, finally found your "About Us" page, which ends with this:

...look. there's nothing inherently wrong with being christian. but to say "we do not wish to impose any beliefs on our customers", and to then put bible verse cards in people's orders? that's sneaky, and I don't like it.

I also think it's a bit sneaky that you've flagged your tumblr account as pro-trans on shinigami eyes. at least, I assume you flagged it yourselves, because I didn't find a single post on your blog that mentions trans issues.

(though you have, entertainingly, reblogged some stranger things fanart, and a castiel cat cosplay)

and while your website uses very gender-neutral language, your "About Us" page doesn't say anything about being inclusive of trans people, just that you don't "discriminate against anyone who has a different belief than ours."

unfortunately, that's not good enough for me. I have this sneaking suspicion that "trans people are the gender they say they are" counts as a "different belief".

lastly, since you say on your website that people can message you asking about your faith, I had a friend do that!

baptists. you're baptists, which is a pretty conservative denomination.

and according to you, part of that 10% you donate goes to your local churches, and some missionaries. who are also probably baptists.

so.

in the end, I just...don't trust you? I don't trust that the 10% you're donating is going to organizations that aren't homophobic or transphobic. I don't believe that you're not trying to impose your beliefs on others, because that's what you're obviously doing. I mean, your "About Me" says that one of the reasons you built this company is to spread the gospel.

and I especially don't like it that you reached out to me (an openly queer person) for promotion without mentioning that you're an evangelical company.

so to answer your question, Julie: no. I am not interested in doing ads or promotions for you on tumblr. and honestly, you probably picked the wrong website for this kind of thing.

#asks #carionausa #cariona #additional info for the record:#my friend told me they did say they donate to some environmental stuff #like maybe wwf they thought?#but from the wording they weren't sure #and also another charity called #Connecticut Quest for Peace #which I couldn't find out much about #it doesn't have a rating on charity navigator #but the posts I found about it on tumblr are all...mmm #very religious in nature #and no judgement if that's your jam #but it's not my kind of thing #so #no thanks #I don't like the idea of promoting a company that gives money to the baptist church and other religious organizations #I just don't #sbs rambles #and I couldn't even find much information about cariona besides this #no business registered in georgia under that name so #who knows #I wonder...hmm #if I was just looking at this information #with no other context #with the errors on the website #and the shipping from china #...I wonder where Cariona _is_ based.#or if it is in georgia - what name is it registered under?

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neo-my-geo · 6 months

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Hey gang, it’s your old pal Neo here. If you know me, it’s probably from one of the several very stupid TF2 comics I’ve posted to Tumblr.

However! I am also an English major (unfortunately). One who has read millions of words worth of fanfiction in their life. I have been part of the Sherlock, BNHA, Disco Elysium, and, of course, TF2 fandoms; I’ve been around the block.

The further I’ve progressed into my English education, the more I’ve noticed which mistakes are the most common in fanfiction. Many of them are easily fixable; writers just need to be pointed in the right direction.

“Neo! Does this mean you think people shouldn’t be allowed to post their works online without a background in formal English education?”

Of course not! I can explain why if you’d care to venture below the cut with me!

Yes, I will explain how to use commas.

It’s important to note that this is NOT a post about formal writing. You aren’t writing an essay. Please, for the love of god, do not write fiction like you’re writing an essay.

There are no stakes to writing fanfic. No one is going to get hurt if an author doesn’t know what a dangling participle is. One of my favourite things about fanfiction is that it’s one of the only art forms left that’s done exclusively for fun! You should write what you enjoy, and share what you make with like-minded people.

What I want to do is provide assistance as best I can to writers who want to improve their fundamentals without having to take the same university courses I did. Nobody is going to be getting a formal education to write fanfiction unless they’re ridiculously dedicated, and I’m not expecting that of anyone.

The point I need to stress is that knowing these grammar fundamentals can instantly improve the flow of your writing. Punctuation is a ridiculously important tool for writers, ESPECIALLY in fiction. Commas, semicolons, and full stops (including periods, exclamation points, and question marks) steer the pacing in the reader’s mind; did you notice how your brain stopped for a second after that semicolon? I can show you how to do that.

You may be wondering why I’m going through so much effort to teach all of this to strangers on the internet. The answer is that I enjoy sharing this knowledge with others and helping them grow. By seeing this, my goal is to help you become more proficient at self-editing. Showing this to people who actually want to learn will, hopefully, benefit the community as a whole, and I think that’s very worth it.

Also, while this post is obviously themed around TF2, the points I’m making can be applied to any fiction. Grammar is for everyone, and the church of the semicolon always has room for more initiates.

Also also, as an edit, I should clarify that this is meant to cover the more objective facets of self-editing, which is why I'm mostly covering punctuation. Maybe I'll do another post about using adjectives someday.

With that out of the way, let’s get going!

I’ve teamed up with several English teachers (real ones! One of which may or may not be my mom!) and an editor to gather a list of the most common problems we see in amateur fiction. This post is going to be split into three broad sections: apostrophes, commas/semicolons, and other common problems.

The apostrophe

This section is short, but it holds weight. Other than commas, apostrophes are the most typoed grammatical tool in any fanfiction I’ve edited. This is because, much like the rest of English, the rules surrounding them can be annoying and inconsistent.

Apostrophes have two main uses: possessives and conjunctions.

A possessive is a word that denotes the ownership of one thing over another. The vast majority of the time, this is done using an apostrophe and an S.

There is, however, one glaring exception to this rule, and it’s the bane of my existence.

When denoting possession of an object over something else while using the pronoun ‘it,’ you do NOT add an apostrophe before the S.

A conjunction, on the other hand, is when a writer uses an apostrophe to combine two words. The following are examples of common conjunctions:

What’s (what is)

They’re (they are)

It’s (it is)

Conjunctions are not often used in formal writing. Thankfully, we aren’t dealing in formal writing. Go crazy.

Time for a lightning round of the most commonly mistaken for each other possessives and conjunctions!

Your is possessive. You’re is a conjunction of ‘you’ and ‘are.’ When you can’t decide which one to use, imagine replacing it with ‘you are’ and seeing if it makes sense. If it doesn’t, use your.

Their is possessive. There indicates a location. They’re is a conjunction of ‘they’ and ‘are.’

The comma and the semicolon

You knew it was coming. I knew it was coming. It’s time to talk about commas.

Commas and semicolons are far and away the biggest grammatical hole in the toolset of fanfiction writers everywhere. They’re often treated like the rules surrounding them are complicated and difficult to understand, but the exact opposite is true!

The big issue I’ve heard time and time again is that the rules of commas are often explained through metaphor instead of example; this means that writers everywhere have slightly different ideas of how you’re supposed to use them. The fact of the matter is that, yes, there are correct and incorrect ways to use commas. Knowing when they’re appropriate and when they aren’t is easily the fastest way to bring your writing from looking amateurish to sounding professional and experienced.

In order to know how to use a comma, you must first understand the difference between a dependent and an independent clause.

An independent clause is a section of writing that functions perfectly well as its own sentence. It MUST have both a subject and an action/verb.

A sentence without an independent clause is known as a fragment, and they’re the bane of English teachers with highlighters everywhere.

A dependent clause is a section of writing that does not have both a subject and an action; it does not function as its own sentence.

Now, let’s say you want to combine the two. When joining a dependent clause to an independent clause, the order in which they are placed is crucial to whether you use a comma or not.

When joining a dependent to an independent with the independent clause first, you do not need to use a comma.

When joining a dependent to an independent with the dependent clause first, you MUST use a comma.

Keep in mind that, if one strives for total grammatical perfection, all narrative sentences MUST have an independent clause. This, however, does not apply to dialogue. Human beings do not think about whether what they’re saying is a dependent clause, and neither would the vast majority of fictional characters. Don’t be afraid to break the rules of grammar as long as it’s contained within quotation marks.

Alright, that’s the easy part. Time to learn about joining two independent clauses. It’s semicolon time, baby!

If you join two independent clauses without properly using a comma or a semicolon, it is a run-on sentence. You do not want these in your writing. They’re awkward to read and mess up the flow.

When joining two independent clauses, you can use EITHER a comma or a semicolon. You just need to follow these rules:

If you’re joining two independent clauses with a comma, you MUST use a joining word (and, but, so, etc.) AFTER the comma.

If you’re joining two independent clauses with a semicolon, you do NOT need to use a joining word.

Did you know that a sentence with a comma counts as its own independent clause? This means that you can make a sentence that includes a mix of both without it being a run-on! Just make sure that, no matter what, the semicolon is between two independent clauses.

Still, try not to write more than two clauses in a sentence too often. Sentences with a lot of punctuation are very attention-grabbing, but shouldn’t be overused. Full stops aren’t your enemy and variety is the spice of life.

It’s also important to remember that you should avoid using more than one comma in a clause (with the exception of the rule below). That part loops back to the 'avoiding run-ons' bit.

It’s really that easy!

Commas are also used in informal writing to inject a separate thought or descriptor mid-sentence without breaking the flow by adding a period. This is often used when describing the perspective of a character experiencing something in a story, but not (usually) when using omniscient perspectives.

The final issue I frequently see with commas in fanfiction is in regards to dialogue. Sometimes you end it with them, and sometimes you don’t. What gives?

Well, my friend, the answer is, thankfully, much simpler than the previous section.

When following dialogue with a dialogue tag, use a comma instead of a full stop. If you’re continuing the previous sentence after the tag, use a comma after it as well.

Note that a dialogue tag is a short phrase that identifies the speaker. It isn’t a complete sentence on its own.

When following dialogue with an action that does not serve as a dialogue tag, use a full stop instead of a comma.

Other common problems

This section is dedicated to putting specific grammatical errors into words, along with how to solve them.

Not sticking to the chosen point of view

Always choose your point of view before you start. Is it in the first, second, or third person? Is it omniscient or limited? Does the point of view switch during the story?

First person perspective is told as if the POV character is directly describing their experience to the reader. The character uses I and we to describe their own actions.

Second person perspective is told as if the reader is a character in the story and their actions are being described to them. This is the rarest, and the most difficult to write.

Third person perspective is the most common and the simplest to write. The events of the story are a separate entity from the reader altogether and the narrator uses they/he/she/it pronouns for characters.

Omniscient perspective means the narrator of the story knows all, including the thoughts and feelings of each character.

Limited perspective means the narrator of the story only knows what the POV character knows.

Past and present tense

When you decide between writing a story in past or present tense, it is crucial that you do not switch between them unless it is narratively intentional. Reading a past tense story that mistakenly switches to the present tense is like being pulled out of the room someone is telling a story in and suddenly taking part in it yourself. It’s disorienting and gives the reader unwanted pause.

Overly-long paragraphs

A common adage spread by English teachers is that most paragraphs should be at least eight sentences long. This is great advice for beginner essays. You’re writing fiction.

If you have a new thought, start a new paragraph! A concise and well-read single-sentence paragraph is infinitely better than one that drags a thought for too long. Aim to have a blend of paragraph lengths when you write, alternating between the descriptive and the punctual.

Dangling participles

A dangling participle is when a word is used to describe a noun that isn’t actually present in the sentence. Much like how a sentence without an action isn’t grammatically correct, neither is a sentence without a subject.

Malapropisms

A malapropism is when an author mistakenly uses one word or phrase instead of another similar-sounding one. I’m not about to list every single malapropism ever made, but these are the ones I notice most often:

To comprehend is to understand something, to apprehend is to arrest someone, and to be apprehensive is to be anxious or fearful of something bad happening.

Could care less means you do care. Couldn’t care less means you don’t.

A lot means a large amount of something. Alot isn’t a word and you shouldn’t use it.

The only real solution to using malapropisms is to make sure you fully understand any words you use in your writing. Never guess, and make sure you always google it. Having beta readers also helps.

If you made it this far, congratulations! You now know the most common errors in amateur fiction and how to solve them! Thank you for listening to me complain for two thousand words.

The most important thing to remember is that it’s okay to make mistakes. First drafts are always gonna be a little bad. The real key to success is knowing what your end goal is, and how you plan on achieving it. Here’s hoping this was a helpful tool for that!

Shoutout to @salmonandsoup for helping me think of the list of issues to address! You're a real one. Also shoutout to my mom, who doesn't have Tumblr. Also the third person. You know who you are.

#grammarposting #tf2 #grammar #educational shitpost #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #writing advice #fanfiction writing advice #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #bro your participle is dangling

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tyrantisterror · 5 months

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Saw Godzilla Minus One again and yeah, just as good if not better than I felt it was the first time.

But it does have me thinking - well, honestly, I've been thinking about this for a while - about how often critics of this series have bandied the argument that only certain Godzilla movies are "true to the spirit of the original," and others are not and thus are trash. It's always used as a way to not just praise the movie in question the critic is talking about, but to still paint most of the Godzilla movies as disposable garbage - which is really to protect the critic's status as an authority by emphasizing they do not challenge the popular assumption that Godzilla movies are by and large garbage, and instead only think certain Godzilla movies - a rare and specific few - managed to rise above their station as garbage to be worth something.

Godzilla (1985) is the only Godzilla movie to hold true to the spirit of the original.

Shin Godzilla is the only Godzilla movie to hold true to the spirit of the original.

Godzilla Minus One is the only Godzilla movie to hold true to the spirit of the original.

And I have... too many thoughts on this to put in a normal tumblr post, I should probably organize them into, like, an essay (god it's been ages since I actually wrote one of those, nowadays I just let myself ramble with only a thin grasp of a point). But this is bullshit, right? This is a bullshit thing that critics and especially fans, so many Godzilla fans do this. It's so fucking cowardly and pretentious, the act of a person without the bravery to truly stand up for art they love, a person who'd rather cover their own ass than be bold enough to fight for what others have ignorantly deemed trash.

Like, my feelings on Shin Godzilla are not negative - they're lukewarm, a "well it's not really for me but I get what they're going for" feeling. But so many people for so many years have held it up high and said, "Finally, a Godzilla movie that's not trash like all the other sequels, one that FINALLY lives up to the SPIRIT of the first, FLAWLESS, PERFECT FILM!" that I can't help feeling resentment for it, a sort of petty envy at how it is constantly held up so the people praising it can shit down on all the others that preceded it. I think I've been more harshly critical of it than I have most Godzilla movies specifically because so many people feel the need to praise it as flawless while shitting on the Godzilla movies that I like more - as if I need to find flaw in Shin Godzilla to prove my love for the others.

Which is cowardly too, in all honesty. We shouldn't need to burn one movie to praise another.

I love Godzilla Minus One. Objectively (or as objective as any critique I make can be) I think it's the best movie since the original, maybe even surpassing it (unlike the 1954 Godzilla, Godzilla Minus One has not jump cuts or other glaring editing mistakes caused by a rushed production time that didn't allow for proper film coverage). And while it may well be impossible to overcome nostalgia and topple the Holy Trinity of Godzilla sequels in my personal rankings, it might manage to fight its way into my top five Godzilla movies. It's an excellent movie, one of the best for sure.

...but people are ALREADY doing the "It's the first Godzilla movie that's true to the spirit of the original!" bullshit already, and specifically using it to tear Shin Godzilla down. I'm at least a little guilty of it - I mean, it was just an honest expression of my preferences, but still, there wasn't a need for me to express my lukewarm feelings on Shin while praising Minus One - and fuck, man, I already regret that.

It's a coward move. Fight for what you love even if people say you're cringe or uncultured for it. Fuck 'em, be the atomic freak you were born to be. You can't find your monster island if you don't.

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 15 days

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Caught (Up) in the Act

Notes: Prompt # 7 from this Fake Dating Prompts list

Also for some reason tumblr isn't tagging past a certain point on my list?? So sorry if you didn't get a notification!

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Fake dating at a wedding; smooches

Summary: The little touches that Santiago had been giving you all night were honestly making you a little hot under the collar.

You were trying to hate it. You had to admit that it was a dire: being invited to an ex's wedding was a tricky situation. You only agreed because Santiago had been desperate (though the open bar and opportunity to get all dressed up had also been appealing). He had sworn up and down that he'd owe you one, that he'd never ask another favor of you as long as the both of you lived. He'd seemed to struggle even asking you in the first place, and for as much as the two of you got on one another's nerves, you couldn't find it in yourself to say no.

The little touches that Santiago had been giving you all night were honestly making you a little hot under the collar. It had started with hand-holding, progressed to wrapping his arm around your shoulders, dropping a peck to your cheek, and giving you a brief, almost tender kiss when he'd noticed his ex looking at the two of you across the room.

As annoyed as Santiago made you, every little touch was weakening your resolve.

He wrapped his arm around you now, giving you a little tug when you didn't lean right into his side.

"Would you just," He hissed through his smile.

"Just what!"

“You’re a terrible cuddler.”

“And you’re a terrible kisser, but you asked me to be your fake girlfriend, so stop complaining.” You knew it was a mistake the second you opened your mouth. Santiago glanced toward you, smile eerily intact as his eyes narrowed.

"...Would you like to run that by me again?"

God, just back down, apologize, tell him it was a joke—

"You seemed to hear me well enough the first time."

...Or make it worse, that was also an option. Your stomach flipped as Santiago slowly turned to face you, eyes resting heavily on yours. You could still apologize, couldn't you—?

You didn't have a chance before Santiago cupped your cheeks and drew you in.

The first time he'd kissed you had been so brief and soft—hardly a brush of lips. But this...

Your mind went blank as his tongue slipped past the seam of your lips, teasing against yours. You couldn't help the soft, surprised moan that bubbled up, tipping your head as he gently guided you. You knew that it was all for show—that there was a swarm of people around you, people that you would never see again. There was a woman on the other side of the room in a poofy white gown that had given up being kissed like this, with a passion that made your face go hot, and sent a shiver down your spine. You didn't bother to hold yourself back as you curled your arms around his shoulders, allowing him to draw your body fully into his.

You slowly opened your eyes as he broke the kiss, his nose gently brushing against yours. His gaze lingered on your lips before he met your eye.

"...What were you saying?" He murmured, a knowing smile curling his lips.

"That was, um..." You cleared your throat. "That was just fine."

"Fine."

"Mm. Mhm."

"You usually moan for 'fine'?"

"I'm just playing a part, Garcia. Trying to be convincing."

He didn't believe you for a second, but he nodded nonetheless.

"Well." He slid his hand around your waist, smile widening as you willingly leaned into him. "Could've fooled me."

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

#Santiago Garcia x Reader #Santiago Garcia x You #Santiago Garcia/Reader #Santiago Garcia/You #Santiago Garcia fic #Santiago Garcia imagine #prompts

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mwg-drwg · 11 months

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Welcome guide for redditors

A lot of the guides I've seen don't actually seem to understand how reddit works in comparison to tumblr so I'm here to fix that

"Following" blogs is the same as "subscribing" to a "subreddit" be sure to "follow" "lots" "of" Blogs "."

You can edit other peoples posts on tumblr, to do this reblog a post and retype the entire post in the way you'd like and tag it with #edit

Reblogs are used in the same way as comments you should reblog and type your thoguhts always, be sure to @ the person who made the post or they wont see it

engage in discourse it is the best way to attract like minded followers to your profile

when engaging in discourse be sure to shoehorn in sick burns as people respond well to this

to start a new post you just need to reblog someone elses post and add your post underneath tumblr automatically seperates your new post from the reblog

This website has rules against talking about the soviet union brought in by the new owners, we are trying to get this removed it is just like the reddit shutoff protest - section 3.4 of these rules is the worst, on google search "SU rule 3.4" to find out more as i cant discuss it here

use 3 colours on your post to help people see it better

if people dont respond to your post you reblog it with popular words like "swag" and "top post" - the algorithm will boost your post!

threats of violence are allowed and encouraged

at the end of the day you should write a "post summary" in your diary and file it away

write "PROTECT ME" on posts that frighten you

pray at the end of the day after every post if possible

god won't be so merciful

push over a pedestrian when possible

release GMO micro organisms into the envrionment

murder wihtout consequence

tags are reblogs

reblogs are follows

follow for follow to make a mutual send the 6 asks daily to maintain this

if they unfollow you send them repeated asks about it it was obviously a mistake youre so funny

report people who post about "vriska" as this is a homophobic and transphobic dogwhistle

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ohnonononononono567 · 2 months

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Fool - Jason Todd x gn!reader (fluff???? angst??? dont quote me)

(I have never written a thing in my life aside from mandatory essays in school, nor posted on tumblr)

You popped into the Red Hoods life suddenly. He was disgusted by it. How gentle you were, how you looked at him as if he could treat you right. It felt wrong.

Your little college student life. How you slept peacefully at night, only to wake up to see a cat at your window and to grab a cup of water. It was nauseating.

He considered kissing you his first mistake. Holding your waist to keep you steady, his mask left on your bedside table, as if it wasn't the last thing countless of people have seen before pain befell them. He did good leaving you for a month after that. Never bothering to show up at your window, nor a bouquet at your door. He should've never gotten you accustomed to that treatment.

Seeing you upset didn't hurt him. You need toughening up. This world needs toughening up. The rats he ate in Jokers hold didn't care if he cried, why should he? Yet he found himself falling into your clumsy, yet tearful embrace, wiping away your tears with a huff, lightly patting your cheek and telling you to get over it. When it didn't work, he did what he always knew to do. Adapt. He tried to make you laugh. He allowed the gentle pads of your fingers infect his skin. He let you see parts of him he locked away for a reason.

He felt disgusting for all of this. He doesn't need any of this. He's hurt too many to even acknowledge what one person may or may not care about.

He kept your apartment clean. He hated if it was anything but. Falling into the soft cushions of your sofa after a long night, just to wake up to your smell having left the dingy little apartment for your 9AM class. Must be nice.

On the worst nights of this infectious disease you've given him, he found himself at your bedside as you rest, hands clasped together as he prayed to whoever would listen you'd be safe. That you'd cure him and he'd leave you alone. That no harm would ever come towards you.

He wanted you to leave Gotham. Every goddamn day. He wanted you gone.

And when you'd leave HIM alone, saying you "respect that he needs space right now", he'd call bullshit. You don't respect him. You will leave and hurt him.

He knew he was wrong, all the goddamn time. Whether it was ordering his men to raid a safe house belonging to the Black Mask knowing it would prove fruitless, whether it was to run away from connecting with Bruce in any meaningful way, or whether even through his fits of just what can only be described as a temper tantrum in his eyes, you still fell into his arms, connecting yourself to him only when he allowed it. The world never deserved you. Reality would hit someday, and one fateful day, you'll learn to be as bitter as him.

But he won't allow that to be today. Today he'll sit with the person plaguing every nerve in his body, on a scrappy leather couch only a college student would see as luxury, and the back of your head will rest on his shoulder. He'll inspect every finger of yours, partly to try and find evidence of the magic you might have contained to make him feel like this, before bringing those fingers to his chapped lips, just to remind himself you're here with him. It's not a mental break. He is not a teenager being electrocuted by a Dr. Harleen Quinzel to learn to hate Bruce Wayne, hallucinating an image of who he assumes to be God and mentally beg for his forgiveness. He is here. With you. And the scars have healed.

Fools call it love. Jason wasn't a fool, but he'd allow himself to be. Just for the moment. He wanted to vomit, but he knew if he did, you'd hold his hair for him.

You're a fool.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #batfamily #dc universe #batman #red hood #jason todd x male reader #jason todd x female reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd imagine #fluff #jason todd fluff #light angst #rawr xd #not proofread

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13pxrkhxoe13 · 19 days

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Pleasure Me | Jk

✽ Pairing: Aaron Warner!Jungkook x Fem!Juliette Ferrars!Y/n (Shatter Me series (Book Series) AU)

✽ Synopsis: After 2 months of being in ‘Love’ with Jimin, Y/n had finally realized that she isn’t, and wasn’t, in fact ever in love with him after all. It was always Jungkook. Now, in her current situation after being presumed dead by Jungkook's father, and staying with Jungkook until they both come up with an idea to kill his father, things get a little… freaky…

✽ Warnings/Genre: Sexual content and themes, 18+ (but if younger, you are reading at your own risk), slight cursing, unprotected sex, no prep, Jk Dom, and… that’s mainly all I can think of-

✽ A/n: This oneshot is based on & inspired by the Shatter Me series by Tahereh Mafi—to which I am currently obsessed with the series!~ This is my first fanfiction that I will post on tumblr, so thank you for reading and don’t feel shy to request something for me to write! I love suggestions~ Sorry for any grammar mistakes, btw! Also, please do not copy this piece of work and use it as if you wrote it with your own blood, sweat, and tears—but reblogging is allowed!

I am just now realizing the fate that had been before me all along.

With Jungkook on top of me and his breath fanning over my lips and his hands all over me, I felt like my days in the asylum weren’t even enough to prepare me for this kind of shock. Or even the amount of butterflies that swam in my stomach everytime he called me, “Jagiya.”

Things were different when I was with Jungkook.

I didn’t have to hide my secrets and pretend I was ok, he just knew.

His gift was remarkable—maybe even more than his love for me… but that would never be humanly possible as long as he lived.

“Y/n…” His deep voice whispered above me, my body trembling with need and teenage hormones at the very word of my name being called.

I just couldn’t respond, and he seemed to understand that.

He leaned in ever so slightly just so our noses were rubbing against each other, and I could feel my core ache with need at the small movement of affection.

“Do you want this… Are you sure?” He questioned again, his voice softer this time as I felt his hands stop once they gripped my hips so tight I could feel his short nails even from the fabric of my pants.

I nodded my head once, twice, and settled on the third one.

“As flattered as I am by your shyness, Jagi, but I’ll need words.” Jungkook chuckled under his breath, his middle body moving slightly as he readjusted himself above me.

I felt red take over my face and heat up my neck, “I-I want this, Jungkook. I need this.”

His adam's apple moved under my touch when I let my hands touch his face, moving down from his cheek to his jaw and father and farther, until he caught my hand with his own—right before I could make it to the waistband of his pants too.

He groaned and I slightly smiled when he met my eyes. Oh, his brown eyes. So vibrant and full of life.

“God, I love you.” And just like that he leaned in to close the distance between us, his lips touching mine like it was our first kiss all over again.

His soft pillow lips melted against mine, his hands traveling under the silk of my shirt as they teased my skin with soft touches, to which he was barely even touching me—giving me goosebumps.

It was soft at first before he bit my bottom lip with his teeth, ever so slightly, to which I became breathless instantly and opened my mouth for a breath, only for his tongue to be plunged into my mouth.

The open mouth kisses were rough and intense as his hands became more eager and found their way to my back before unclipping my bra, even though my shirt wasn’t off yet.

I let my hands run over the scars on his back, being gentle even if he still had his shirt on, as well.

He broke the kiss, letting both of us breath before kissing my chin and right under my jaw, settling at my neck.

I let my head fall back against the pillow behind me as his hands now cupped my breasts, under my bra and shirt, making me let out shaky noises of whines.

His middle and pointer finger found joy in fiddling with my nipple, occasionally flicking at the bud as well. He sat up, taking his hands back as he took off his sweater, throwing it over his head and somewhere over the room before trying to take mine off in a rush.

And even though I had seen his bare form before he was still breathtakingly beautiful as ever, and I felt myself falling harder for him by the second, my cunt begging for him as it throbbed for attention.

His hands achieved their goal in taking my shirt and bra off, not wasting a single moment before latching his mouth around one of my nipples, sucking like his life depended on it.

“Oah~” I moaned and I felt him smirk as my hands played through his hair, one of his hands found their way to my other nipple, making sure it wasn’t left out.

He stayed like that for a short while, switching back and forth between my buds and I was on cloud nine in pleasure, and we haven’t even gotten anywhere yet.

Soon though he began kissing down the length of my stomach, stopping at the start of my pants as he looked up at me for permission to which I nodded desperately as I watched his teeth grab ahold' of the cloth before tugging it down, all the way down to my feet before he stood up and took his own pants off.

I could see the outline of his bulge and I was desperate to pleasure him as he was me, but when I leaned up to palm him he shook his head and pecked my lips before saying, “No, Jagiya… I just want to be inside of you… We can experiment with things like that in the future.”

I swear my heart did flip after flip when he said that, making me know that we would find ourselves like this again, and I loved every thought of it.

He pulled my underwear off first, before taking his own off, and I watched as he groaned at the release from the uncomfortable cage his cock was in, to which it was now free.

I could feel myself clench around nothing but oxygen as I watched him stroke himself a few times, looking at my lower half.

“Fuck, Jagi, I knew you were beautiful but damn…” He hissed, crawling back over me, not letting me respond as he kissed me again, “This is your first time, right?” He whispers, between kisses, and I could feel him poke my lower abdomen.

I blushed again, embarrassed by the fact for some reason, but it was true nevertheless. I could never touch anyone before I met him and Jimin. So, I shook my head and he smiled before replying to my movement, “I’ll be gentle, it’s my first time too. I didn’t have any girls like you before you came here…” He grunted as he grabbed his cock in hand and rubbed himself on my folds, “I wanted no one but you… ever since I first saw you.”

I moaned again, louder this time and he smirked down at me as he watched my parted lips, before he took one inhale before slipping the tip of his dick into me, stretching out the beginning of my virgin hole.

And it felt good.

He groaned and his hands found their way to my waist and stayed there, keeping his head bent as he stared at the scene happening between both of our bodies.

“Shit, never knew this was how pussy felt.” He cursed, grinning up at me and I tapped his back, letting him know that I needed more of him inside of me.

“Same… I never knew dick felt this good… I can feel every vein on you.” I whined and spoke before he slowly moved his hips forward so that I took a little more of him in.

“Every vein?” He chuckled, “Some humor.” He pushed in more, making me quietly close my eyes as I got used to the burning sensation.

“I-I’m not joking, Jeon.” I barked back, playfully but also impressed at myself.

I never knew sex felt this good.

“What?” He lifted his head up and I could see the sweat already forming on his head, “I never knew that about girls…”

I furrowed my eyebrows as he smiled inside of me for a while, “Firstly, you knew nothing about women before I got here,” He pouted, “And secondly, this shit feel so good, so I need more.” I teasingly moved my hands to grasp his bum and move more of him in and he blushed but also smirked.

“Anything you want, Jagiya.” He purred and when he was buried inside of me all the way to the brim I moaned, feeling him fill me up so good made me want to cry as he hit every nerve with his long dick—not like I could talk since I have only ever saw his dick-

“T-tell me when to move…” He stuttered, his jaw clenching and his teeth grinding.

“M-m—” I didn’t even get the chance to finish before he pulled out and moved back in, his dick slipping in and out with ease from my juices.

“Ahhh~ Jungkook!” I called out, my lungs burning with the need to let noises out as he started a steady pace, moving in and out.

In, still, out.

He groaned, his hands gripping my ass and lifting my lower half of the bed slightly as he kept his eyes on him moving inside of me and went slowly, making it painful for me to hold back desire.

“Faster!!” I whined and he smirked, licking his lips before lifting my legs up by holding under my knee ever so slightly until he could ram into me.

He sure did go faster, and I mean faster.

I could feel the pit of desire in my stomach begin to build as my pussy heated up even more as he hit every nerve in me.

“Shit—So tight, so much better than my hand.” He lifted his up, throwing it back as he breathed with each thrust, as my hand grabbed onto his thighs either side of me.

He went slow and then faster, making me let out noises of pleasure more frequently, him groaning and trembling in response. I was getting closer and I let my fingernails claw his thighs slightly as I screamed,

“C-Cumming soon, Jeon!”

“Right behind you, Jagiya…” He trailed off and plunged his long dick into me faster and faster until I felt my stomach clench, making my cunt clench before I felt my release.

“JEON~!” I called out, arching my back off the bed as I came, with him still ramming into me making my walls clench from overstimulation.

“Shit—shit, shit!” He cursed his hips stuttering, “So t-tight! Y-Your clenching—Shit!” He moaned and whined as he builded himself up using my cunt, making my mouth wet and my eyes roll back slightly as I felt him pull out quickly.

I looked down and saw him stroking himself over my stomach, and just as I was about to help him he came all over my breasts, his white serum making me look like a canvas.

“Jagiya…” He whispered, stroking his cock a few more times until he started going soft again, to which he placed himself on the bed beside me, our sweat filled bodies colliding non-sexually now.

“I love you, too.” I called for the first time, making him look at me with surprise and joy, his eyes lightening up.

“If I knew sex was all it took for you to say that I would have done this a long, long time ago.” He chuckled, pecking my forehead.

“Hey! I know you love birds just did the naughty, but no more! My lonely ass is tired and it smells like… y’know what, and we have a war to get to tomorrow!!!” - Taehyung (Kenji in this case) yells as he knocks on the door, somehow in Jungkooks living quarters. 🤣🤣🤣

THANK YOU FOR READING!!!~~~~

#bts au fic #bts au #bts au fanfic #jeon jungkook #shatter me series #aaron warner #juliette ferrars #bts smut #jungkook smut #Jimin mentioned #y/n #jjk x reader

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iamvernswhore · 8 months

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Sexually Frustrated

Summary: You and Vernon have been busy with work which meant it had been so long since y'all had been intimate. You were sexually frustrated and just wanted him to fuck you till you couldn't think straight anymore. Vernon was almost always calm in general but that didn't mean he tolerated bad behaviour from anyone, especially you. He just wanted you to be his good little girl.

Smut warnings: fingering, blowjob, unprotected sex (this is just fiction, don't do this irl), choking, a lil spanking wouldn't hurt would it?, dirty talk, spit kink (well it's Vernon, the black eye singer) Marking, handcuffs, degradation, pet names (whore, slut, baby) it's just really slutty hehehee so please scroll away if you're not comfortable.

Pairing: Dom!Vernon x brat!reader

Author's note: I'm new to Tumblr and this is my first post so I hope you guys like it. I luv u <3 Please ignore any grammatical mistakes.

You were horny.

It has been so long since Vernon and you have spent any intimate time together as you both were busy with work. It's 3 a.m. You're trying to sleep but are sexually frustrated. You didn't want to wake him up but you were horny and just wanted to fuck him so you came up with a plan, which you were probably gonna regret later.

You got up from the bed, went to the closet, undressed yourself, and wore his plain white t-shirt with nothing under it. He has always had a thing for seeing you in his clothes, especially when you wear nothing under them.

You felt a little guilty and selfish for doing this right now, at midnight when he was exhausted from work. Your need was taking over you.

You opened the drawer and smirked when you took out a pair of handcuffs. Oh, you are so gonna regret this later. You walked up to him who was in deep sleep, and slowly handcuffed him to the bed.

You hovered above him and kissed him which slowly awakened him. "y/n what are you doin-" That's when he realized he was cuffed to the bed "What the fuck are you doing? Uncuff me right now" fuck, his voice was so deep. He was completely awake now.

"Shh" You put your finger on his lips and just smirked. You moved to the edge of the bed while maintaining eye contact with him. He noticed what you were wearing and gasped.

He never liked the idea of you touching yourself. He thought it wasn't necessary as he was your boyfriend and was always there to help you out and anyway, he should be the only one touching you, It made no sense to him and he never allowed you to do that.

Well, what's the worst that could happen?, you thought before slowly moving your hands to your vagina "Don't" he warned. You just raised your eyebrow in a, 'or else what' way. You moaned when you put your finger inside your vagina. His mouth watered at the sight of your wetness. So you were that horny.

Your other hand went to your right boob, squeezing it when you added another finger into your hole. He could practically see your hardened nipples through your/his t-shirt which made him groan. He just wanted to grab them, slap them and suck the shit out of them.

You bit your lip and moaned his name, which didn't make it any easier for him. You increased your pace as you added another finger "fuck Vernon" your moans getting a little louder "I swear to god y/n if you don't stop right now I'll fuck you so hard that the only thing you'll remember is, My name" as if you wouldn't like that.

Even if this was getting you to your high, nothing could compare to him. He always knew how to please you and make you cum in seconds. He watched you with a glare, his jaw tight. You were close and you knew he was rock-hard under the sheets. "ahh oh my god fuck" With that you came, breathing heavily.

"Are you done now?" He wriggled his hands as if that would free his hands. "Untie me, this instant" You ignored him and uncovered his almost naked body by removing the sheets.

You sat on his lap and leaned over to his face. You licked his lips but moved away quickly when he tried to kiss you. He groaned "Stop playing" You chuckled as slid your hands on his abs, licking them after.

"Hmm, Where's the fun in that?" You tucked on his boxers and pulled them down, His beautiful dick on display. You went down and kissed the tip, licking his sides as you know he hates being teased.

You had only one goal tonight, Pushing his buttons so he'll fuck you like you deserve.

"Fuck, don't tease me" You looked at him and batted your eyelashes at him. He groaned and clenched his jaw "Please" You smiled and finally started sucking him. He was huge so you couldn't get him full in your mouth so you used your hands too. You increased your pace and started bobbing your head.

He wanted to grab your hair and fuck your mouth but he groaned cause he couldn't do that. You moan when he thrusts his dick upwards, which sends vibrations across his body. He was close, but not for long as you pulled away right before he could cum.

You grinned at him, who lost his tempo "What the actual fuck y/n?" he groaned loudly. You thought he was riled up enough and would fuck you good now. You were intimidated but still proceeded to uncuff him. He flipped you over the moment you threw the cuffs away. He gave you no time to adjust as he thrusts his dick into you. You moaned loudly

"Such a fucking slut" he spanked you "All this just so I could fuck hard, right?" he spanked you again and choked you when you didn't answer "Answer me, whore" He wasn't vocal in bed in the starting but he knows you get off faster when he talks dirty and calls you names, so he's been doing that quite a lot lately.

"Ah yes, It's just fun to see you like this" You grinned as he rolled his eyes. He tapped your cheek "Open" he demanded, If you were in a brattier mood you would've said 'Make me' but right now he was already infuriated, so you obeyed him and opened your mouth allowing him to spit in your mouth. You swallowed it "Good girl"

"You could've just asked me what you wanted and I'd give it to you like a good boyfriend, but no. A brat like you would always choose the hard way" He groaned when you clenched his dick

"Ple-please" he spanked you "Please what?" he knew you were in no place to even utter words which made him grin "Say it babe, say what you want like a good girl and I'll give it to you"

You sobbed when he hit your G-spot "Aww already crying?" he wiped your tear before thrusting harder. He pushed his finger into your mouth, making you suck it. He spat on your face and smudged it. He held your jaw "You should've just behaved baby" It was always such a sight to see this side of Vernon, it was hot.

He spat on your boobs before slapping them. He leaned forward to suck them "Fu-fuck Vernon I'm close, ple-please" you sobbed, He chuckled "Come for me baby" You clenched around him which made him groan and grab your hips harder. It would surely leave marks.

"You fuck me so go-good god, I love you" He kissed you "I love you too baby" His thrusts became sloppier. You moaned loudly as you came. He came soon after.

You hugged him. He chuckled as he was caressing your cheek "You didn't think we were done, did you? I know it's been a while since we've fucked and maybe that's what made you forget your fucking manners"

He moved his finger to your lips, playing with them "So Tonight, I'll fuck some senses into that dumb brain of yours"

#vernon #vernon smut #vernon x reader #hansol smut #seventeen smut

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sleeplessdreamer123 · 1 year

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So, I got an idea from this prompt. Again, can't really enjoy writing on Twitter, so Tumblr it is!

Lucerys' screams were loud enough to reach Dragonstone from King's Landing. The entire family winced as they heard him shout, begging, cursing in both High Valyrian and common tongue for the Maesters and the midwives to "do what they were paid to do and get the babe out of him!!!"

Aemond acted the worst out of all of them, walking around in circles, glancing at the door every second, glaring at anyone who dared to even breath loud enough for him to hear.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He barged into the birthing room, and while the Measters begged him to leave, saying it wasn't a place for a man of his stature, a glare was enough to silence them.

Lucerys, seeing the man who made him the way he was now, the cause of his recent suffering, redirected all the abuse he was capable of giving to Aemond.

"You, you cursed worm! You...You..-" he screamed as the pain got worse and the midwives begged him to calm down.

"You beast! You absolute, one eyed Hightower cunt! You dare show yourself to me after what you've done!" He shrieked.

Aemond, for the most part, stayed silent, most likely in shock. He knew Lucerys wasn't the sweet angel everyone thought he is, but this was the first time Lucerys has ever called him...any of those insults. He didn't even know he knew words of insult (his mistake, seeing as Daemon was there to teach him). And he did it in front of all those people.

Who seemed to be ignoring said insults as Lucerys began to scream again, grasping the covers as the midwives urged him to start pushing.

The Maesters hurriedly told him that it was normal for anyone on the birthing bed to hurl insults, as the pain they're going through was akin to dying of a heart attack, they would scream anything at anyone. Except they don't usually die, the Maesters quickly say once they saw Aemond's face paling from the mere notion of his consort's death, in fact, with the amount of curses and energy from Lucerys, they believe it would be a rather healthy birth, and that he has nothing to worry about. (Except for the fact that the labor started too early, they were only supposed to be visiting and they were supposed to stay in Driftmark for the birth).

"Aemond....Aemond...." Aemond's eye left the Maesters and landed on Lucerys, who was reaching out for him, tears staining his face. Despite protests, he goes to him, and holds his hand.

That was a mistake.

He never realized how strong his little consort was, until he squeezed his hand so tight, he felt as if the bones would break. He didn't say anything though. He knew that if he did, Lucerys would tighten his already tight grip, just enough to ensure he would never be able to practice with the sword for at least a few weeks.

He kissed his sweaty forehead, whispered in his ears that he was doing good, so good, so well. And how did Lucerys reacted to that? Well...

"Do you think of me as a dog, husband?! I care not that I'm doing well, or good! I want the babe out this instant! This will be the only babe you'll get out of me! You will never sweet talk me into allowing this to happen a second time! If you wish for a second child, why don't you get pregnant instead!"

The Maesters and the midwives wisely ignored their conversation. Well, the older ones did. The younger ones were busy trying not to laugh at what they've heard. Aemond will deal with them later.

He wiped his sweaty face with a cloth given by the midwives, kissed his cheeks, contained his groan of pain every time Lucerys tightens his iron-like grip, and hope to the gods, be it the Seven, the Fourteen Flames, hells, anyone would do, for it to be a speedy birth.

So of course, it took the entire day.

The Maesters did try to remove Aemond from the premises once, and Lucerys was quick to retaliate once his pain-addled mind figured what they were trying to do.

"No, you dare send him away to get comfortable while I writhe in agony?! He shall stay and see just how much he hurts me! See if he wishes for another child after this!"

Aemond wisely didn't remind Lucerys that it was he who wished for a child, that he was the one who "forgot" to drink the moon tea prepared for him. Yes. He was very wise not to mention that, since every time Lucerys felt pain, he would utter curses and insults like a seasoned sailor, directing it to anyone in the room he sets his eyes on, so much so that Aemond began to wonder if he heard them from Daemon or Corlys.

Soon, soon, the midwives informed them of the babe's crowning. Soon, a crying babe was added to the cacophony of noise in the birthing chambers. Aemond waited for his dear consort to release his poor, poor hand.

He could feel the iron grip tightening more than ever.

"I can feel something moving from the inside!"

And thus, the midwives and the Maesters scrambled to prepare for the second child, and once his own crying was heard, everyone in the room finally relaxed.

They cleaned the babes and placed them on Lucerys' chest, and he looked at them with satisfaction.

"Oh, hello." He croaked, his throat dried and tired from the shouting.

They waited for a few more minutes before allowing the family in. It only took a few seconds of awkward staring for Aemond to figure out they heard everything. He will deal with that on a later date as well.

The family were on their best behavior, at least. They greeted the two new additions of the family, Rhaenyra, Daemon and Jacaerys checked on Lucerys, asking what he wished to eat after this, and Alicent silently looking at the two silver haired boys places on his chest.

"I think...I think I called Aemond a cunt." He coarsely whispered.

"You did? Well done."

Alicent's glare at Daemon's answer did not seem to affect him at all, too busy looking at his new grandchildren, who seemed to not mind their presence, at least.

Aegon, however, had to ruin the peace with his half drunken antics.

"So, dear nephew, did that hurt?"

One look from Lucerys gave Aemond all the permission he needed to slap Aegon on the head with his not-crushed hand. The look of approval from both Rhaenyra and Alicent told him he did the right thing.

The look of satisfaction from Lucerys told him he was forgiven.

He hoped that he forgives him if he knew that he planned on getting him pregnant again, maybe in a year or so.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x lucerys #lucemond #lucerys velaryon #lucerys x aemond #aemond one eye #birthing chambers where Lucerys curses at Aemond the whole entire time

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polkadotpenguin16 · 2 months

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#MarchFicMadness24 Rec List

Here's my contribution to @the-blind-assassin-12's March Madness Reblog Challenge: reblog 63 fics in 31 days!

Below are stories/drabbles/whatever that I enjoyed reading and give the Penguin Stamp of Approval 🐧™ (very exclusive)

Expect a lot of Carisi/Barba love 😍

Part 1 | Part 2

🥰=Fluffy 😔=Angsty 🥵=Saucy 📋=Masterlist

1. Carisi and reader's first kiss by @kryptonitejelly 🥰 Sonny Carisi x reader This is just an adorable little snippet that made my heart flutter

2. Mistakes We Knew We Were Making, Chapter 1 by @lovecarisi 🥵 Sonny Carisi x reader Hot damn - that's it, that's all my thoughts lol

3. Slow, soft love making with Barba by @adacarisi 🥵 Rafael Barba x reader This was my gateway fic into the Tumblr-SVU-Fic-Verse (came here from a random pin on Pinterest). And it is still one I enjoy going back to because it is so delightful. Anyone who enjoys smutty SVU fics should check their stuff out!

4. Sweet Tangerine by @whoevrwhatevr 🥰😔 Sonny Carisi x Rafael Barba My guilty pleasure is sick/comfort fics, and this one checks all the boxes for me. Pathetic, ill Sonny has a special place in my heart lol

5. Second Chances, Part One by @tropes-and-tales 😔🥰🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader I read this on the recommendation of @misscharlielulu, and it did NOT disappoint! It literally has everything - broken hearts, adorable dates, a sensual satisfying climax. It goes from angsty, to fluffy, to saucy, and it is near close to perfect.

6. Overtime by @storiesofsvu 😔🥰 Rafael Barba x Reader Honestly, read any of her stuff, you're guaranteed to enjoy it. I like this one in particular because it is such a well composed story. And she nailed Raf being a lovable dick 😂

7. Tears For A Good Man by @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader I always get excited when a new Sonny fic comes across my dash, and this one is just GAHHH **insert incoherent happy noises** Probably the sweetest version of Sonny you will ever come across **swoon**

8. 19 (aka losing your virginity to Sonny) part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 by @carisi-dreams 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader If I was on a deserted island and was only allowed to bring one fic to read, THIS WOULD BE IT!!!! I love how relatable the reader is, I love how attentive Sonny is, and it's just GOD DAMN HOT 🔥

9. Relaxation Therapy by @mrsrafaelbarba 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader Who doesn't want a sexy Cuban lawyer to take care of them after a long day 😏 #life is hard and barba is hot

10. You're My Dream Girl by @pascalispretty 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader Apparently @misscharlielulu and I are on the same wavelength because we were both thinking about this one today lol. This one is hot, heavy, desperate and it's AMAZING

11. Line Without a Hook by @writingdayandnight 🥰 Rafael Barba x Reader This reads like a delightful romance movie, and is a beautiful alternative for Undiscovered Country-deniers (seriously, what were they thinking?!)

12. Carisi realizing he’s in love by @kryptonitejelly 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader Another adorable snippet courtesy of @kryptonitejelly - keep em coming!

13. “i’m yours, in every way possible.” by @qvid-pro-qvo 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader Y'all wanna cry happy tears? Cuz this made me cry happy tears! I found this gem last week, and have become completely obsessed.

14. HCs: Being in a Relationship with Sonny Carisi by @locke-writes 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader This is wonderfully written, in-depth, and simply put, it's heartwarming 💓

15. Rafael Barba Masterlist by @melk917 📋 Rafael Barba x Reader If you're a Barba fan, this is the Tumblr to go to! Seriously, just pick any of them. You'll find a little bit of everything, and you'll enjoy yourself.

16. A Fight With Sonny by @storytimefromthecreed 😔🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader The dialogue in this is so perfectly written. Honestly, it's #truelovegoals

17. Rain, Candlelight & Pumpkin Spice by @beccabarba 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader This one is so soft and sensual and makes me miss fall. Standout quote - "I love that you think you’re the lucky one" - I'm literally melting 🫠

18. Taken Care Of by @plaidbooks 😔🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader There are LOTS of stories out there about Sonny taking care of the reader. Not nearly as many about Sonny being cared for, and by god does that man deserve it! This is a fav of mine, Julie's so talented, and I've got 45 more fics to go so I'm sure I'll be adding more of her stuff to this list.

19. Perfect / Love Won’t Die by @cathrrrine 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader When this fic dropped, I got absolutely nothing done that day because it was the only thing I could think about. It gives you all the nice mushy feelings a good fluff piece should!

20. Movie Night by @adarafaelbarba 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader This is one of the first Rafa fics I ever read. Then I freaking lost it and thought I was imagining the whole thing. And when I finally found it again, it was even better than I remembered lol

21. Mistakes We Knew We Were Making, Chapter 2 by @lovecarisi 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader Chapter 2's out y'all!

22. Public Transportation by @amaroforpresident 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader An utterly adorable meet cute 😍

23. Caught in the Act by @svuwritings 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader Just absolutely filthy smut; might need a cold shower after this one.

24. 4th of July by @australiancarisi 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader I love reading fics with a focus on Sonny's family. We got such a small sliver of that part of him on the show. This fic just makes me smile ☺️

25. Decisions by @detectivesvu 😔 Rafael Barba x Reader This is a heavy read, but it's oh so good. Sidenote, this reader is a saint - I wish I could practice this level of patience lol

26. Paradise Lost & Paradise Found by @cycat4077/@cycat-carisi 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader So Tumblr will not let me reblog these for some reason, but I just had to share because I love them so much. This story breaks my damn heart and then glues it back together and I am HERE for it! All of their stuff is a joy to read 💙

27. I Want You to Touch Me by @writefasttalkevenfaster 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader Sexy bearded Barba, anyone? “I told you it wouldn’t be a bed,” - GAHH I'm blushing 😳

28. Gallery by @svu-ncis-criminalminds 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader Is "deliciously angsty" a thing? I have issues dealing with conflict in my personal life, so reading about people fighting and making up is kind of cathartic for me. It does wrap with a sweet ending.

29. Getting Flowers from Sonny by @duchesschameleon 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader I've only received flowers once from someone (who wasn't family) and I remember just how goddamn special that made me feel and this perfectly captures all those warm fuzzy feels 😊

30. "Hey, just look at me. Breathe." by @amirightcounsellor 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader Oh, to be held by Sonny after a nightmare...

31. Sonny in an accident part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 by @carisi-dreams 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader Scrolling through Violet's blog is like the best box of chocolates you've ever received - always something new and exciting to find. I cannot believe I only just read this today. I think it is a contender for my most favorite fic of all-time. Violet, I bow to your greatness 🙌

32. Unsure by @svucarisiaddict 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader I love this story so much. It really resonates with me deeply. And Sonny is such a dear in this :)

33. The Tum by @plaidbooks 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader I love me a fluffy man, and Raf deserves all the adoring attention in the world <3

34. A Misunderstanding by @minidodds 😔 Rafael Barba x Reader This is a cute shorty about a silly miscommunication.

35. Toy Box by @detective-giggles 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader Did someone turn up the heat, cuz it's getting a little steamy in here. This is filthy...please enjoy 😏

36. All Wrapped Up by @melk917 🥵 Rafael Barba x Reader I know the holiday season has passed, but this is a good read all year round.

37. Come Home part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 by @enamoured-x 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader In case you needed your heart torn up this evening! This whole series is amazing, I love it so much. Why do I we love to see Carisi suffer so much?!

38. Do Not Disturb by @foryouthem00n 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader I do enjoy me some Cranky Carisi lol. Can hardly believe Sonny would turn down cuddles 🥺

39. how the svu characters would react to you pranking them by texting “i miss being single” by @cathrrrine 🥰 The whole SVU gang These are all just a laugh and a half 😆 and so accurate! "Not now. I'm not done sulking yet." OMG seriously Rafa?!!

40. fluff #1 by @writingsforfandoms-multi 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader Ya know, I'm just a sucker for some domestic bliss. This one is so precious!

41. Your first five dates with Sonny… by @reddielov-e 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader This is such a fun read! Very well thought out, lots of details. "you’re an outstanding woman and you never fail to make me laugh" - ya killing me!

42. Jealousy by @minidodds 😔 Sonny Carisi x Reader This is an oldy but a goody. I go back to this one whenever I'm in the mood for some angst.

43. Trust Me by @ambivertdreamer 😔 Rafael Barba x Reader I really like Rafa stories that follow the plot from Intersecting lives (wtf were you thinking giving out your address Barba?!) and seeing the fall out and consequences that the show didn't really give us. This is a great story that ties up really nicely.

44. Coming Home by @seekret-fanfic 🥰 Sonny Carisi x Reader Warning! Your heart may not be prepared for this amount of fluff!! I fucking LOVE this story - it pulls at the heartstrings in such a delightful way. Warms my cold dead heart 🖤

45. On Takeout and Yoga by @inflagranteinnuendo 🥵 Sonny Carisi x Reader Not your conventional smut piece. This is so well written. I love the flow of the whole story. I love the build up to ending. I love just how goddamn sweet and endlessly understanding Sonny is!!

46. SVU guys picking out engagement rings by @adacarisi 🥰 Sonny Carisi, Rafael Barba, Mike Dodds I've been a wedding-y mood recently, and this just tickles my fancy.

#marchficmadness24 #63 stories in 31 days #fic rec #sonny carisi x reader #rafael barba x reader

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cptapathy · 4 months

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My takeaway for the new UK guidance on gender transitioning in schools

Please, everyone, respond to the guidance and call it out as how shit it is, don't just accept this shit.

Here is the link to respond to this attack on trans youth

https://consult.education.gov.uk/equalities-political-impartiality-anti-bullying-team/gender-questioning-children-proposed-guidance/

1. If you are under 18, are doubting/exploring your gender and wish to involve the teaching staff but not your parents, then explicitly say to them, "if my parents find out they will beat me"

This is the only way to prevent the teacher from having a legal duty to inform your parents

2. The guidance is rife with "G3nder Cri1ical" terminology, but what do you expect from the equality minister for Britain?

3. Unsupportive teachers will be able to justify their prejudice as "watchful waiting" as laid out in the guidance as step 1

Just to clarify, if a 16yo comes to ask to be referred to by a different name or pronouns step 1‽ is to not honour those requedts for an indeterminate period of time to "make sure." This will be standard across an entire country

4. A direct quote

"Does the child feel pressured to identify differently because they simply do not align with stereotypes associated with their sex? This is relevant as some people think gender identity reinforces stereotypes about men and women"

They need to spend some time on tumblr, ain't nothing about you freaks that reinforces gender stereotypes

5. Another quote

Schools "should not unilaterally adopt any changes, including using a new name or new pronouns, unless or until this has been agreed by the school or college in accordance with the proper procedures and... parental consent"

So, any time a child considers their gender identity, there must be a school meeting about accepting it. They then go on to talk about "contested views"

But if anyone has contrary views, those are protected and "must be respected," not period of denial, and informing the parent to then hold a meeting of if those views are necessary for the school to honour.

6. "Agreeing to a child’s request to have others use different pronouns about them is a significant decision."

No it fucking isn't

7. Children under the age of 11 are not allowed to have different pronouns. It's just an outright blanket ban on using gender affirming pronouns for Under 11s.

8. Over 11 well, now we have to decide if using they/them is a large enough benefit to you that it "outweighs the impact on the school community."

Idiots the lot of them

8. But if we do accept a pronoun change, you will still be referred to as "girls" or "boys" collectively, and we won't stop teachers or other students from not using your pronouns. Did you think this was to enforce your pronoun use? No, no, no, this is just to allow YOU to use those pronouns, god forbid a student decide for themselves how they want to be referred to!

9. Literally just explicit transphobia

"Schools and colleges should exhaust all other options, such as using first names, to avoid requiring other individuals having to use preferred pronouns"

10. The first and only mention of bullying, in full

"In all cases, bullying of any child must not be tolerated. No child should be sanctioned for honest mistakes when adapting to a new way of interacting with another pupil"

Why does that feel like they're defending transphobes from bullying? Oh, right, because that's what they are doing.

11. Did anyone expect anything different to this?

"Responding to a request to support any degree of social transition must not include allowing access to these spaces"

So, it will be a legal requirement for teachers in England to prevent trans people from going to a toilet or changing room designated for their gender.

12. This one is not a legal requirement but rather a "should" statement, which is trans children "should" be held to the same uniform status as other children of their AGAB.

I'm running out of commentary here

13. No one is surprised that trans people are once again banned in sports

The full doc for anyone willing to go through it

https://consult.education.gov.uk/equalities-political-impartiality-anti-bullying-team/gender-questioning-children-proposed-guidance/supporting_documents/Gender%20Questioning%20Children%20%20nonstatutory%20guidance.pdf

Boys, girls, and the genders we aren't allowed to mention, that is my summary of the UK government proposed guidance on trans students.

Please help stop them.

#uk politics #uk #trans rights #transphobia #trans #transgender #transpride #trans pride #trans youth #uk trans #trans uk

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buckys-loverman · 2 years

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cooking lessons - jeremiah fisher

you and jeremiah have been best friends since you were children and he has taught you everything you know; but he’s not done with all his lessons

warnings: smut, finger banging, minors DNI, 18+ appropriate, praise kink, vulgar language

pairing: fem!reader x jeremiah fisher

A/N: hi guys! this is my first time writing on tumblr so pls be nice to any mistakes that i make this time around. not my gif & hope you enjoy!

You and Jeremiah had been childhood best friends since preschool, along with Conrad, Steven and Belly. It was tradition for you to join along on their summer vacation to Cousins Beach.

Every month the two of you liked to try new recipes to cook, it helped the both of you learn something new and allowed you to spend uninterrupted time with Jeremiah. Your stomach twisted and turned each time he guided your hand while cooking, his laugh echoing in your ear as your cheeks turned pink.

You weren’t allowed to think about him in that manner, he was your best friend and you just had to ignore the way his fingers would glide into his mouth as he would taste test the batter you made for the lemon cake you both agreed to make that day. How you could see his tongue swirling around his fingers, swallowing every drop as he stared intensely into your eyes. Your stomach had tightened in knots watching him, your panties slowly getting soaked as you tried squeezing your legs together and starting up a conversation to distract yourself from the boy in front of you.

“So, are you going to the bonfire tonight? First one of the season.” You smiled as you picked up an egg to add to the mix.

His voice got closer to your ear, “Depends, will you be accompanying me again this summer?” His hands lightly wrapped around your waist from behind, his veiny arms on full display as you could see his smile from the corner of your eye.

“I-I’m not sure-” You cleared your voice, “Someone actually asked me as their date…” You whispered the last part, hoping that he either wouldn’t hear or wouldn’t ask you any questions.

“What?” His arm moved away from his previous hug and landed on the sides of your waist as he flipped you around to face him, your body pushed against the counter. “Who?” He asked as his arms have you trapped, an angry and confused expression smeared across his face. God he looked so hot when he was angry, especially at you.

You snap yourself out of your thoughts and you take a deep breath, “Um Alec, the one from the club. You remember him right? Taller side, likes to surf-” But Jeremiah stopped you before you finish, “No.”

“What?” You blinked a few times as you thought Jeremiah would be happy that you finally got your own date to the bonfire, you wouldn’t be his best friend that just stands next to him all night feeling like a burden that he can’t go flirt with other people.

“I’m not letting you go with him, he’s a total fuckboy! He’s just trying to take advantage of you.” He spat in disgust, his eyebrows wrinkling together as his fists began to grip on to the counter behind you.

“I’m sorry, did you ever consider that maybe I know about his reputation?” You crossed your arms, never breaking eye contact with him.

He shook his head, “If you know then why go with him? He’s just trying to fuck you like the rest of the girls in Cousins!” His face turning red as he moves closer in, his breath mixing in with your own.

“Because I want to! Jesus, wrap it around your stubborn head that maybe I want to fuck somebody and if that means Alec, then I’ll do it!” You raised your voice as you uncrossed your arms and shoved Jeremiah away from you, the anger in your body beginning to take over your emotions.

Jeremiah looked taken aback at your sudden shove as pure anger crossed his face as he grabbed you by the waist and re-pinned you against the counter top, a gasp coming out from your mouth as he lowers to your level.

“Do you even know how to satisfy someone?” His low voice and lust filled eyes sent shivers throughout your body as his hands slowly move down your waist.

“Maybe not, but I can try.” You gulped as both your faces were just inches apart from one another.

A small smirk spreads across his face as he tilts his head towards your ear before whispering, “Then I’ll just have to show you.”

In one swift moment your body is lifted off the ground, a gasp escaping from your mouth as he places you on top of the counter, placing himself between your legs as he grabs the back of your neck, forcing your lips to smash into his.

The knots in your stomach soon turned to ash as you wrapped your legs around his back, pulling him in as your fingers moved through his hair, tugging at it. A groan escaped his mouth, lips still attached to yours as the two of you moved against each other’s bodies, knowing what the other one wanted.

His fingers moved agaisnt the small of your back as it made it’s way down to your pussy, that was surely drenched from his touch. He rubbed your clit over the thin material of your panties, causing a muffled moan from you. In a sudden movement he harshly pulled your underwear to the side, causing a loud rip, “I’ll buy you new ones.” He grunted.

His long and thin fingers moved up and down your heat, him teasing you with his touch as he plays with you, a smirk reappearing on his face as he watches your body twitch with this new overwhelming feeling that is taking over your body.

“Jere please-” You beg as each breath becomes harder, “No more teasing.” Your fingers now clench the counter that he did previously, your stomach feeling on fire.

He licks his lips as he smiles, “Fine, but only since you’ve been such a good girl.” He slips in a finger and you instantly feel your walls closing in around him, god it’s like he knows what makes you weak.

You moan as you tilt your head back in pleasure, his other hand reaching for your chin as he moves it forward to look at him while he finger fucks you, a second finger entering, stretching you out in pleasure.

“Fuck!” You say as you can feel the tips of his fingers curling inside of you, instantly hitting your g-spot, something you had never been able to reach yourself. Your body floods with another wave of euphoria as your toes curl inside your shoes, your breathing irregular as his fingers thrust deep into you.

“Tell me how it feels darling.” His eyes moving between your eyes and your pussy, now on display in the kitchen you two were once cooking on. The thought of it causing his cock to flinch at the thought of fucking your tight little pussy right there so he could show you that no one could ever fuck you like him.

“G-good Jere, it feels so good.” Another moan threatening to break free as his free hand moves over to your pulled up skirt, his thumb rubbing sweet and light circles over your clit. His touch sends you into orbit as your nails dig his shoulders, surely to leave a mark.

“Take it all in, there you go angel.” His stupid smirk never leaving his face, “Now tell me you’ll go to the bonfire with me.” His fingers continued to speed up inside as he adds more pressure to your clit, driving you closer to your first orgasm.

You can barely speak, better yet answer him as waves of pleasure continue to suffocate you. The way his fingers glide in and out of you, the delicate touch of his thumb rubbing over your clit as his baby blue eyes continue to stare deep into you.

“Jere-” You gasp as he slides in a third finger, your body beginning to twitch in pleasure as moans escape your mouth before you can stop them. Your knuckles turning completely white against the counter from your grip.

“That’s not an answer princess,” His deep voice feeling like an echo, “I want to hear you say yes. Think you can do that for me?”

You quickly nod as you feel all this pleasure finally catch up to you, causing you the fall flat on your back against the kitchen counter as a shock runs through your entire body, your back arching as you push your head deeper into the counter and your eyes roll into the back of your head. His fingers continue to slip in and out of you as your orgasm flashes through your body, your breathing becoming jagged as you slowly begin to come down from your high.

You feel light headed as he pulls his fingers out of you, sticking all three into his mouth as he continues to stare at you, the way he did earlier with the cake batter that was now spilling off to the side.

You sit up to your elbows to face him, “You know…” He began as he pulled his fingers out his mouth, “You never gave me the yes that I asked for.”

Your eyes widened in realization as you opened your mouth to respond, but nothing would come out as he began to unzip his pants, his hardened dick peaking out from the top as it stretched the fabric of his shorts.

“So it looks like i’ll have to fuck it out of you.”

——————————————————————————

hello everyone!! i really hope you enjoyed and if you have any more suggestions for new stories or want a part 2 then please comment, thank you all <3

#the summer i turned pretty #tsitp imagine #tsitp jeremiah #jeremiah fisher #conrad fisher #fisher boys #the summer i turned pretty x reader #jeremiah fisher smut

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celtic-crossbow · 3 months

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So I Live a Lie in the Light

Setting: Forest (6 year gap) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Tabby O’Sullivan (OC) Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mentions of child abuse; mentions of pregnancy Summary: Daryl has a secret. He’s always known it could affect all of those he loved. Just not like this. A/N: Tumblr is being an uber twat right now and won’t let me edit so hopefully there are no mistakes.

It had been getting more difficult to hide. Emotions always made it worse. For most of his life, he had tried to hide from them; push them down and bury them. And that was before he was bitten. He had been so young and careless, out in the woods after a particularly heavy beating from his father. Nature had always been his safe place. That night, it was anything but safe.

He had thought it was a dog at first, a low growl the first indication he hadn’t been alone. He had stumbled through the bushes and landed directly in the middle of the dinner table. The creature was kneeling over the deer carcass, its clawed hands holding open a gaping hole so its canine-like maw could delve inside.

It had heard him, probably smelled him now that he thought back on it. Running had proven useless, its long legs catching up to him with ease. He remembered thinking he would die right there that night. Even now, he could feel the pain flare to life around the scar its teeth had left on his shoulder.

Then it had let him go.

His daddy had been passed out drunk when he got home, allowing him to care for the wound without explanation. He would find out on the first full moon since the attack that the creature had been Merle and what exactly that bite meant for the rest of his life.

So Daryl, a lycan, had kept his secret. It made slaughtering the undead while alone a piece of cake. Even when he was with his chosen family, he had strength he would never be able to explain if he didn’t hide it well. Had he not been so consumed by fear, he could have saved them. He could have saved so many of them.

After Rick’s supposed death, he had skulked off into the woods to find his brother’s body, dead or alive. He had left everyone behind. He had left her behind. If there had been anyone he would have told, it would have been her. He wanted to tell her; wanted to show her how much he trusted her. How much he loved her.

But he was afraid. The walkers had done nothing more than die and had become the enemy. What would that mean for him? A lycan. A werewolf.

Rather than live with her rejection, he chose to live with her absence. It was better for both of them this way.

Daryl had made her promise to never visit aside from after each full moon. He had been adamant and, so far, Tabby had held to the promise. She’d set the world on fire for that man, so even when her heart ached for his presence, she held fast to the agreement.

Until now.

Circumstances called for an earlier visit. She brought supplies with her but secretly hoped this would be when he’d return. It had been six years. Two day visits every 30 days or so just wasn’t cutting it. He’d always allow her to stay in his camp, sharing touches and sweet kisses and whispered words. Sharing his bed and his body. She yearned for those moments.

Maybe today was the day.

“Daryl, are you here?” Tabby peeked into the tent, surprised to find Dog stretched out on the bedroll but no archer. “Daryl?” With careful, quiet steps— just like he’d taught her— she crept across the forest floor. It wasn’t long before she heard the familiar snarls of a herd. Oh god, no!

She didn’t call for him. It would only alert them to her presence when he could be perfectly fine and hiding to wait it out. But why would he leave Dog? There was a new, unfamiliar sound as she closed in, an animal of some sort. Probably, being mauled and eaten, the poor thing. When she could see a few of the uncoordinated, shuffling bodies, she pressed herself against the nearest tree, carefully leaning around to the other side.

What she saw defied everything logical she had ever been taught up until the dead began to walk.

A large, black creature was slaughtering walkers left and right; taking heads and limbs and tossing them carelessly. It was covered in fur and stood on two legs at about seven feet, with decipherable knees but canine hocks below them. The fingers and toes were tipped with large, razor-sharp claws that were slicing through flesh like butter. The torso was comparable to that of a human but larger, broader with pronounced skeletal and muscular features. But its head… Its head was large with canine features: elongated snout, pointed ears, and a mouth full of dangerously sharp, dripping teeth.

Tabby was frozen to the spot with wide eyes, tears on her lashes, and only one coherent thought: Daryl.

Had it killed him?

The creature paused with a walker’s head in its grasp, raising its snout to sniff the air— and turned its black gaze right to where she was hiding.

“Oh fuck.” She whispered, stumbling backwards before she turned around and began to run back to the camp. There was a roar unlike any she had ever heard from somewhere behind her but then the sound of more walkers being dispatched. “Dog!” Tabby screamed, relieved when the canine poked his head out of the tent. “Dog, come! We have to find Daryl!” She saw the archer’s pack on the ground, choking on a sob. Why would he go anywhere without supplies? “Come, Dog! We have to—”

When she turned, she was face to face with an open maw of pointed fangs, rivulets of thick saliva stretching and falling to the leaves. She lifted her foot to take a step back, watching its eyes lower and then rise before it growled. She couldn’t die. Not now. She hadn’t survived years of slow moving corpses to be taken out like this when she was so close to everything she could have ever wanted, apocalypse or not.

“Dog.” She whispered, oddly concerned that the canine hadn’t made a single sound. She started to risk a glance but didn’t have to look far. Dog was sitting calmly at her side, looking up at the creature with his tongue hanging out the side of his open mouth.

Movement in front of her brought Tabby’s eyes forward. A huge, clawed hand was reaching for her, slowly. She whimpered, raising her shoulders and screwing her eyes shut. The touch on her face was shockingly gentle. When it pulled away, she released the breath she had been holding and opened her eyes. It was backing away.

It made a noise before things began to shift. Bones and colors and size, shrinking and morphing until…

“Daryl?!”

He was naked as the day he was born, a hand out against a tree to balance himself as if the change had sapped his energy. The look he was giving her was unreadable, so many emotions flitting across his face that she couldn’t pinpoint just one.

“Ya weren’t s’posed to come here.” He whispered.

“Yeah, I get that now.” She snapped. “What the fuck is going on?” He stepped toward and when she stepped back, his expression crumbled.

“Yer afraid of me now.” He choked on a sob, his chin quivering. Daryl walked briskly past her and grabbed his pack, jerking out clothing and proceeded to begin dressing himself. “Ya can go if ya want.” The tremble in his voice made it clear that wasn’t what he truly wanted. Besides, she came to tell him something and now, more than ever, it seemed more imperative.

“Daryl,I—” The redhead braved a step toward him, visibly trembling. Yes, she was afraid. Even so, something in her gut told her that he would never hurt her. She was afraid because she didn’t understand. She needed to know what this meant for her. How it changed things. “I need an explanation. I need to know—”

Tabby paused, standing straighter when he went still with his shirt halfway pulled over his shoulders. Daryl sniffed the air— once, then twice —and turned to her, his brow creased. “Ya smell diff’rent.”

“You can smell me? Like…a dog?”

“Lycan.” He corrected, pulling his shirt the rest of the way down. The archer began to step toward her, but she consciously made her feet stay planted.

“Lycan?” Tabby queried, blinking.

“Werewolf.” Daryl stated calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He was nearly in front of her now, taking a moment to lean in and inhale through his nose once again. “Why do ya smell diff’rent?”

“New body wash?” She giggled nervously, a fine shaking to her person but still not moving away.

He actually dared to look insulted. “Ain’t like tha’, Tabby-cat. S’ya scent. Yer smell. Ain’t yer clothes or soap or perfume. S’you.” The jig was up. She had to tell him and then he’d need to her what it meant; if it was dangerous. What she needed to do.

“So,” The redhead dropped her gaze, toeing at the rocks. “What happens when…lycans?” He nodded. “When lycans and humans have sex and that results in the creation of a little being?”

Daryl stood up straight, looming over her in a way that had never intimidated her before that moment. “Yer…pregnant?” Tabby nodded, her chin quivering. Daryl barked out a laugh and doubled over, hands on his knees.

She stared with wide blue eyes, incredulous. “You’re seriously laughing right now?”

The hunter shook his head and stood up with an expression of pure relief. “Thought ya’d got bit. Didn’ have the…dead stench but I didn’ know how else ta take it. Ya weren’ s’posed ta be able.” He sobered quickly, reaching cautiously for her shoulders. When she didn’t back away, he pulled her in against him. “Anyway, aint been through it ‘fore n’ haven’ ran inta many others like me, but s’far s’I know, ain’t no diff’rent than a human. Jus’…” he trailed off, easing his hold on her so that she could move back a little.

Tabby looked up at him, fear present in her trembling orbs. “Just what?”

Daryl bit his lip nervously. “Kid’ll have the curse. Ain’t no two ways ‘bout it. Don’ know how much or how lil’ it’ll show up. Could be born like a pup, could be human. Could change immediately, could take months, years. S’a lot I don’ know.” He let her go and turned away. “M’sorry. Didn’ think ya’d ever…”

Tabby stood in stunned silence, completely overwhelmed and more than a little frightened. One thing hadn’t changed, though. She didn’t think it ever would. She stepped up after a deep breath, wondering if he already knew she was closer because of super hearing or smell. Regardless, she wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her head between his shoulder blades, pushing back the mental image of them snapping and shifting only a few minutes before.

She still loved him. He was still somehow her Daryl, even if she had a lot to learn.

“I’m scared. You can’t blame me for that.” She felt more than heard him sigh. “But I’m not scared of you.” Now a sharp intake of breath, blue eyes searching for her over his shoulder. Tabby leaned back, only enough for him to turn within her embrace, pressing herself right back into his chest. His arms encircled her immediately, warm and familiar. “I’m scared for our baby, what it means for them. What sort of life they’ll have to lead. What precautions we’ll have to take.”

Daryl nodded but didn’t interrupt.

“I do know that I want this and I want it with you.” She smiled against his shirt, squeezing him tighter. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

“Together.” He repeated softly, a hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.

Pulling back, she gave him an all too familiar smirk, a mischievous twinkle in her wet eyes. “So, if I scratched behind your ear, would your leg shake?”

“Stop.”

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