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yazthebookish · 2 months ago

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Maybe I'll spoil you guys and talk about Gwynriel and ACOTAR5 and anything related to it overall. I recently finished my HOFAS reread and have some fresh thoughts. I'll let my thoughts guide me and some of these points I've already addressed in my insta stories yesterday. I just rather share a lengthy post here since I'll only tag under #gwynriel.

I often see arguments about how Gwyn and Azriel can't move the plot forward because the series is centered on the Archeron sisters.

First, that's not true because Sarah is following what she called "a traditional romance route". She's following the same patterns of Nalini Singh, Kresley Cole, and Lisa Kleypas where they publish multiple books in the same series following different couples.

This is fitting for a series like ACOTAR because it's romance-centered. And Sarah have already said that each couple is getting one book and there will likely be more books beyond ACOTAR6.

Saying that doesn't dismiss the importance of the sisters to the story, Feyre already has a trilogy centered on her. The spin-off just follows different characters including the sisters.

I won't try hard to convince people on this because I've already posted almost everything Sarah said about the spin-off series and what's it's about. So if the next book is not centered on an Archeron sister, that's for Sarah to bamboozle the fandom with.

One thing that stuck out to me is when I compared the ending of ACOSF with the scene of Bryce giving Nesta Gwydion and seeming like she left Nesta with a new quest.

First, this is what the text says, and this is Chapter 80, the very last chapter in ACOSF:

Succeeding in the Blood Rite didn't mean the training stopped. No, after she and her friends told Cassian and Azriel most of the details of their ordeal, the two commanders had compiled a long list of mistakes that the three of them had made that needed to be corrected, and the others wanted to learn from them, too. So they would keep training, until they were all well and truly Valkyries. Gwyn, despite the Rite, had returned to living in the library.

1. The Valkyries are not yet a unit.

2. SJM only and specifically highlighted that Gwyn, despite the Rite, returned to living in the library. It was like "hey, remember all the talk Gwyn did about wanting to leave the library after two years? Yeah that's on hold a bit but keep that in mind". She didnt even add Emerie or the other priestesses to that sentence.

With Nesta being left with Gwydion to find out why the 8-pointed star was tattooed on her, I don't think the next book will start with "hey Elain take this sword and deal with it". Who are Nesta's main companions now? Gwyn and Emerie.

I'll be back to the Valkyries but let's just talk about Azriel for a bit.

It is so painfully obvious to me that Azriel is being handed the Illyrian plot on a golden platter. How big or small of a plot it is depends on SJM, but it's important based on the fact that she fleshed out the Illyrian's origins and tied them to the crossover AND making Truth-teller the knife of Enalius.

That is a big deal for an Illyrian like Azriel.

And I quote my friend Lacie on this, it is very poetic for Azriel to be the owner of the knife that originally belonged to the person who freed his own people from the Daglan's clutches, perhaps because he saw his people are more than just slaves to the Daglan—how powerful would it be for Azriel, who loathes his own people, to parallel Enalius.

And for years some people were against Azriel dealing with this plot because he shouldn't make peace with his "abusers", its true his own family and some Illyrians failed him but he is condemning an entire population. Good people like Emerie and Balthazar. Even Rhys's mother, who had valid reasons to hate her people especially as a female, still made sure to make Rhysand connect with his Illyrian heritage and he even goes on to say that his mother didn't forget what they did to her but still loved her people.

If both Cassian and Rhysand (and by extension the author) continue to flag Azriel's hatred of the Illyrians as an issue—then it is a damn big issue for it to be addressed repeatedly.

Okay so to address my final point about Gwyn and Azriel and how they can move the plot forward.

Now I didn't detail out much about what the next book will deal with because that's another post (and I already have a post on that).

All of our theories and predictions are based on information that is available to us. Saying Azriel and Gwyn cannot move the plot forward does not make any sense because the central plot is tied to multiple characters, Archeron or not.

If SJM wants to make a character move the next book's plot forward, she can do it because she's in control of the story. She's in control of the narrative. She's in control of the characters.

The characters are puppets and this is an unfinished story. If some characters would add more value and make for a more interesting story before the others, she can decide on that. If she wants to make Eris the protagonist of the next book, she can easily do that whether the fandom wants it or not.

Let me give you an example of minor characters that pushed the plot forward and became main characters: Yrene Towers and the Hind. These kind of arguments could've been used for them in HOEAB or HOSAB and Pre-TOD. Before HOSAB/HOFAS and TOD, could we have predicted that they would have played a crucial role before those books? Not likely because they had minimal appearances and were not part of the main cast. This is what I'm talking about.

You can't know how a character will contribute to a story until you see how it all unfolds. We can make guesses on the information we have which is why I believe three characters are likely to join the main cast: Gwyn, Emerie, and Eris.

Why is it so easy to accept that Emerie might be sharing a book with an original character like Mor but it's hard to comprehend the fact that Gwyn could also share a book with Azriel? Because Emerie showed up in ACOFAS? To me that's not really a strong argument based on Sarah's writing and what we have in the books, she doesn't really pick based on who showed up the earliest. Here's a good example: Hypaxia, who showed up earlier, didn't even get her own chapters but the Hind did.

And there's one argument I recall about how I need to rely on Nesta to have a plot focused on Gwyn or the Valkyries in the next book. Nesta's arc is clearly not over based on HOFAS, but does that mean she's getting a POV? Not necessarily. I don't think she is. Gwyn is the perfect candidate for us to see what's going on with Nesta post-HOFAS and how they all deal with the Valkyries and whatever Sarah will set up with them.

There is this whole Valkyrie/Illyrian conflict that could be triggered as a result of the Blood Rite, with Ramiel definitely being an important location to explore in the next book, we also have the Pegasi and the Prison and the implications of the crossover. It makes sense to have an Illyrian and a Valkyrie POV to deal with some plots in the next book.

"Gwyn contributes to nothing" we can't know until the book is out. How sure are we that maybe SJM won't connect her to the crossover by making her mysterious father a Worldwalker? Or Prince of Hel? Or an Asteri? Maybe I'm right maybe I'm wrong.

"But Koschei! And the Human Queens!" Koschei will always be a background player pulling on the strings until the final book as it's obvious he is the big bad in the series, unless someone even worse is revealed. But no one is dismissing Koschei or the Human Queens messing around.

Literally what's the point of the story or the fun elements of surprises or plot twists if you need Sarah to list down everything that the next books will deal with. That's not how a story develops to me. I don't need to know everything in advance to just know how it will go. That's like knowing spoilers early on and checking off with each book what happened and what didn't happen. I feel like it's close to how a lot of readers were disappointed with not having enough ACOTAR in HOFAS, because Sarah implied half of the book would be set in Prythian. So by the time the book came out and it wasn't that, people were vocal about it.

In my opinion, SJM set a good foundation for Gwyn's arc to build up on in ACOSF and her arc is not over. We won't get mentions of her still carrying the guilt of her sister's death or not leaving the library after she said she's sick of being there for two years without us seeing resolution for that. She wouldn't be in Azriel's bonus chapter if she is not involved with him.

To conclude, my reread still affirms to me that the next book with an Azriel/Gwyn book. Azriel is clearly being set in the forefront.

#gwynriel #that's it for a while

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flowerandblood · 9 months ago

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Object of Despair (2/3)

[ dark • Aemond x Arryn • widow female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, oral sex, fingering, hate sex, smut, angst, domination, violence, swearing, humiliation, hard chauvinism ]

[ description: Aemond is forced to marry a widow from House Arryn as part of the alliance and support of his brother in the war against the Black faction. After their wedding night, which went completely differently than he imagined, Aemond tries to return to his daily routine. The female character has a specific eye and hair color. Lots of hate sex, violence and chauvinism. ]

Part 1 �� Object of Desire Part 3 − Object of Delight Epilogue

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

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Their wedding night was so different from what he had imagined that he was at once horrified, ashamed and intrigued by the person who had been living in the chamber next to his for several days. She wasn't seeking his company or attention, appearing only at suppers spent together with his family.

He knew he could have summoned her to his chamber at any time, and it would have been her duty to come and give him what he wanted, but every time he meant to do so he changed his mind and resigned, frustrated, staring into the light of the fire burning in the fireplace, sitting in front of it on his ornate wooden chair, thinking about that evening.

After what had happened between them it seemed to him that they had both suddenly come down to earth, not knowing what to make of how aggressive and full of rage the rapprochement had been.

He let her go and watched her, breathing unevenly, tying back his breeches, as she immediately covered her buttocks back up with her nightgown − he could see that her whole body was shaking, her lips trembling, her eyes big, her cheeks puffy from the tears that ran down her face.

She calmed down a little after his words and reassurances, but she was still terrified.

She asked him in a breaking, weak, quiet voice if she could now return to her chamber, and although he had originally had no intention of letting her lay in his bed, he felt disappointment at the thought that she had not begged him to let her stay.

Not wanting to show weakness or allow her to think that her presence was something he craved, he allowed her to do so with a nod, and she left without a word, neither bowing to him nor wishing him a good night, quietly opening and closing the door of his chamber behind her.

The next day, during the duel with Criston Cole, he could not concentrate − whenever he caught sight of a shade of blue out of the corner of his eye he involuntarily looked in that direction, thinking it was her in her gown that he remembered so fondly, his heart pounding hard with shame.

He pressed his lips together, turning his head away, snorting, playing with the hilt of his sword in his hand with apparent impatience, seeing some other woman − Cole watched him vigilantly, but not dared to ask either about her or his impressions of her.

Her presence was a taboo for him.

That same day, he walked and spent long hours in the great royal library, despite the fact that he usually instructed his servants to bring thick, old volumes filled with the history of his family and all Essos to his chamber. He hoped to meet her there, to confront her again, this time clearly showing her where she belonged.

To his disappointment, he did not see her until the evening − her blue gown immediately catched his attention, sewn from a soft, lovely fabric it fell heavily over her pleasant, girlish curves, accentuating her figure.

He swallowed hard as he looked at her face and noticed a large red bruise under her eye, which must have been the result of the moment he grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head on the table.

She was discussing something in a whisper with Helaena, his sister bent over her with concern, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture they had all inherited from their mother.

They fell silent when they noticed him − her violet eyes looked up at him, sad, resigned and tired. He thought, feeling a burning embarrassment in his chest, that explaining to her who had the final word on what their marriage would look like was no longer necessary.

Sitting down at the table next to her he knew what awaited him − when his mother walked into the chamber and saw his wife she froze, the smile gone from her face.

She looked at him with pain, with disappointment he could not bear and he closed his eyes, thinking only of the fact that he wanted to sink to the ground.

"Dear sister-in-law, has my brother given you another gift besides, we all pray, his future heir in your womb?" Aegon asked with a sneer. He clenched his teeth, sucking in a deep breath, looking at his brother with grim fury, to which he only smirked, popping a grape into his mouth, biting through it with a loud crunch, amused.

He felt his wife shift beside him − his heart began to beat faster in panic at the thought that she was about to say something to humiliate him, to mock him in front of his entire family to take revenge on him.

"I slipped in the bath, my King." She replied simply, without emotion, regret or anger. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, surprised at the ease with which she lied despite it being obvious that everyone around her had guessed what had really happened.

His brother raised an eyebrow clearly impressed, cocking his head, leaning back in his chair with a loud creak of wood.

"You slipped." He repeated softly and she replied nothing, looking at him calmly.

She and Aegon exchanged glances for a moment − it seemed to him that she feared neither him nor his position.

"I hope no more such unpleasant…accident happens to you, my Lady. Such a pretty face." He hummed, reaching for his cup, but she merely blinked, no grimace passing across her face, as if his words did not bother her at all.

He himself didn't know what he thought of all this, so he decided to go back to his daily routine, pretending that she simply wasn't there, convincing himself that it would be better that way.

He didn't need her, he didn't want her, and her silence and distance were doing him a favour.

He watched her sometimes from afar, seeing her pleasant silhouette glide between the columns as he trained in the courtyard, always headed for the garden, the tree he had read about before she came to King's Landing, and at which he understood the Northerners prayed.

He did not think of it at first, but then he began to notice the gazes of the men and guards fixed on her as she passed them, their smiles, their dreamy gaze as if they were imagining what they would do with her body, the body of his wife, his right and his duty.

It planted a seed of doubt in him − he wondered if perhaps she was meeting her lover there, if he was a source of ridicule in the keep because the servants already knew that she had not been faithful to him, that she had betrayed her crippled husband.

This thought made him furious, but having no proof for his supposition he decided one day to change his plan for the afternoon and watch her through the window − as soon as he caught sight of her figure passing through the cloisters he left his chamber, moving unhurriedly after her.

As he walked between the tall shrubbery, hearing the grass rustling and the birds singing, he tried to focus on other sounds, expecting quiet moans and panting to reach his ears, but heard only his own footsteps traversing the path strewn with small rocks rattling under his feet.

He stopped as he stepped into a small clearing − a large, white weirwood with a disturbing, wrinkled, red face on its trunk looked at him ominously, his wife lying on her back on the grass beneath it, her eyes closed, her dark, loose hair surrounding her head, her hands laid on her stomach.

He stood motionless, wondering if she was waiting for someone, however, she did not open her eyes or look around.

He thought with surprise that she was asleep.

He swallowed loudly, for some reason feeling desire at the sight of her lying silhouette, the fact that someone could see and hear them, that she was his wife, and he could take her here and anywhere else he wished.

He felt how his cock swell in his breeches, his lips tightening into a thin line as the heat spilled in his lower abdomen.

She shuddered and opened her eyes when she heard him move towards her − she lifted herself up on her arm, her lips parted in disbelief, however for some reason she did not rise or try to escape.

He stood, towering over her, feeling his superiority and dominance over her in this position and this situation, his fingers slid down to his breeches, untying them in a calm, nimble manner.

"Come here, wife. I promised you something, didn't I?" He asked, feeling his heart pounding like mad, releasing his aching erection, its pink tip glistening from his precum.

It seemed to him that she was shocked by his insolence, by the fact that he wanted to profane her sacred place, after a moment, however, the expression on her face changed. He parted his lips noticing how she rose slowly, kneeling before him as if to pray, with a light flick of her hand sliding the material of his breeches lower, looking him straight in the eyes.

No fear, no terror, no regret.

He sighed and immediately grabbed her by the hair, wanting to be in control of what was happening when her hand grasped his throbbing, hard cock in her soft palm, squeezing it at the base. He drew in a loud breath as her lips brushed its tip without any hesitation, her pink, shiny tongue licking it encouragingly. He tilted his head back, delighted.

"− fuck − keep going −" He commanded, impatiently pressing her closer to his lower abdomen, watching her with excitement and curiosity, his manhood quivering with desire in her hand, her fingers giving it a calm, assured strokes. He groaned involuntarily when he saw how she slowly slid the fat head of his cock between her lips, the tip of her tongue teasing him lazily.

She sighed as the thrust of his hips slid it deeper into her mouth − he heard her almost choke when it hit the back of her throat, her palate wonderfully wet and warm, her lips clamped down on it, in some natural, subconscious reflex beginning to suck it.

"− that's it − there you go −" He gasped with awe at the perverted sight before him, his fingers entwined in her smooth, soft hair, clenching down on it, controlling himself, however, so as not to cause her too much pain, forcing her head not to escape when his hips with sure deep pushes invaded her throat.

"− did you often satisfy your late husband like this? − it's clear this isn't your first time − little slut −" He exhaled, groaning lowly listening to the loud clicks of her saliva each time his aching cock disappeared again and again deep into her mouth, her hand tightening on it more firmly, making him accelerate his pace.

"− stop − that's enough −" He muttered, having no intention of wasting his seed, wanting to finish inside her, trying to push her away, but he felt her tongue trailing down his length, her free hand clamped down on his buttock, not allowing him to escape − he had to lean against the tree trunk, his other hand holding her hair as his cock thrust into her greedily.

"− f-fuck, fuck, fuckkk −" He hissed out in rage combined with delight and groaned loudly in relief as he felt his semen spill over her palate. He looked down at her, her eyes closed, all around them only the rustle of the leaves, his shaky, loud breaths and the sound of her swallowing, so lewd it sent shivers down his spine.

Slowly she slid it out of her mouth, his cock all slick and glistening from her wetness − her soft, pink tongue licked it for a while longer, teasing and sucking lightly on its tip from which the remnants of his seed still flowed. He stroked her smooth hair, feeling his body still shudder with shivers of pleasure after such intense fulfilment.

"− you look perfect like this −" He gasped softly, his thumb running over her cheek, noticing with some kind of relief that there was hardly a trace left of the bruise from a few days ago.

"− you will spend this night in my chamber − you should try how it tastes sticky with your moisture − don't touch yourself −"

That evening he waited impatiently for her, strangely excited and anxious, pacing around his chamber, absorbed in his thoughts.

He feared that she would humiliate him, show him, by not coming to his summons, that she despised and disrespected him, and then force him to use violence against her again.

He did not want any more accusing glances from his mother directed towards him at the table.

He shuddered as the door to his chamber opened suddenly − he turned over his shoulder and swallowed hard, noticing her figure covered only by her night gown and the cashmere blue shawl thrown over her shoulders − her long dark hair were loose, the look of her violet eyes calm and full of some kind of curiosity.

"− have you touched yourself? −" He asked coolly as the door closed behind her with a loud clatter of wood, turning towards her, walking in her direction with his hands folded behind his back.

"− no −" She replied softly, without any pleasantries or further elaboration, looking straight into his face without a sign of fear or uncertainty.

He intended to regain control of the situation she had taken from him when she decided when he would come and how, all by herself.

Stupid cunt.

"− undress and lie on your stomach −" He commanded in a dispassionate, cool, deep tone, from which her gaze darkened a little, as if clouded, her plump lips parted slightly but no sound came out of them.

She walked past him without a word, heading barefoot towards his bed and climbed onto it, her back turned to him as she sat on his bedding, letting him watch as her fingers slid the fabric of the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall down, revealing her naked, smooth body.

His hands began to undo the clasps of his tunic as she lay on her stomach following his command, her face turned the other way so that he could not see her gaze − the sizzle of the fire in the fireplace all around them, and besides, a complete silence filled with a heavy, stifling tension, a threat of what was about to happen between them.

He felt what he saw in his cock, his manhood expressing painful impatience, throbbing in his breeches at the thought that he intended to come deep inside her that night more than once.

"− did you love that fool? −" He asked indifferently in a voice slightly hoarse with arousal, licking his lips with his tongue in satisfaction to see that her whole body tensed, her fingers clenched on the pillow lying under her head, her back rising in a shuddering breath.

She was silent for a long moment, as if his question had startled her − he watched her vigilantly, pulling his boots off his feet, staying only in his undershirt and breeches as she lay exposed, bare, vulnerable, condemned to him and him alone.

No matter what her answer would be.

She shuddered, as if snapped out of her reverie, as he sat up behind her, his large hand running over and stroking her full, soft buttocks.

"− speak −" He hissed, his hand slapping her bare skin so sharply and quickly that she bounced and squealed. He gave a reassuring stroke to the spot, red and throbbing in the indistinct shape of his hand − involuntarily his lips curved into a teasing smirk as he noticed the moisture glistening between her thighs, her folds pink, throbbing and swollen.

She liked this kind of games, he knew that.

"− I was the furnishings of his household − I loved him as much as his chair, his bed or his table could −" She muttered, and he looked at her, surprised, not knowing himself what he thought of her words. He stared at her face, her gaze fixed on his window, her lower lip trembling as if she was trying not to cry.

He hummed, intrigued, moving forward, placing his hands on either side of her head, his long hair tickling the bare skin of her back and shoulders, making her gasp loudly, her body quivering all over in anticipation and uncertainty, fear and curiosity at what he was about to do.

"− I am, I believe, in his debt − he taught my wife how to suck cock so well −" He whispered quietly with a hint of dark mockery and threat, her lips parted wide in a quiet moan as he slid one of his hands under her stomach, parting her legs with his knee, forcing her to spread them in front of him, his mouth ran over her neck as his fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood.

"− but did he fuck you good? − hm? − did he know your weaknesses? − your most sensitive points? −" He murmured, her whole body breathless, her buttocks bucking up towards him and rubbing against his hard cock, moving to the rhythm of his fingers as their tips dug into her tender skin, trailing around her bud, teasing her once in a while, his hand all sticky with her juices.

"− fucking answer me − he fucked you with his fingers 'till you mewled his name? − 'till you begged for his seed? −" He growled, crushing her with the weight of his body, his other hand clamping down on her neck, careful not to overdo it though − she whimpered loudly, writhing beneath him as he quickened his pace, running his fingers over her puffy slit again and again, leaking from her fluids, his fingers invading her fleshy folds with a loud, lewd click, his aching manhood hitting her buttocks.

"− yes − he's gained experience with whores and servants before, just like you −" She hissed out, her breath caught in her throat as his fingers tightened harder around her neck, his two fingers forced their way inside her, stretching her tight, hot, wet walls with sure, deep pushes to which her hips responded greedily with rocking, meeting him halfway.

"− shameless whore − maybe I should care less about your pleasure, hm? − fuck you so that you cry out in pain −" He threatened, and she laughed, struggling to catch air, her lips parted wide, her eyelids clenched.

"− objects do not know fulfilment or disappointment − love or hate − do what you want with me −" She breathed out, her eyes opened, releasing a wave of tears that ran down her cheeks, seeing this he slid his fingers out from inside her and let go of her neck, quickly untying his breeches, for some reason furious at her words, his nostrils twitched dangerously in accelerated breath.

His thumbs spread her folds wide to the sides, allowing the fat head of his cock to force its way inside her with her loud moan of surprise, his one, brutal push was enough for him to thrust deep into her with a sigh of pleasure and satisfaction.

"− listen − that sounds like disappointment to you? − like hatred? −" He sneered, panting loudly, placing his hands on either side of her head again, his knees spreading her thighs wide so that he slid fully into her, bucking his hips, his thrusts violent, sure and deep, each time his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a loud click of her moisture.

"− fuckin' leaking − all thirsty for my cock −" He gasped, feeling her muscles squeeze him tightly in pleasure, his face sinking into her soft, fragrant hair, his hands in some subconscious, natural reflex found her breasts, caressing and kneading them between his fingers, teasing her nipples with his thumbs.

"− ah −" She cried out innocently, girlishly − he stifled a low groan hearing that sound, accelerating his pace, opening her slick cunt wide on his cock again and again with brutal, quick thrusts, his mouth sliding down to her neck, clamping down on her skin, sucking her so painfully hard that she hissed, grabbing him helplessly by the hair.

"− I promise you that when I'm done with you, you won't be able to sit up tomorrow − your stomach and womb full of my seed −" He growled out into her ear, his breath caught in his throat as her hands found his, clenching on his fingers, entwining them together, her hips responding to his thrusts so eagerly that he struggled to restrain himself from coming just yet.

"− don't stop − fill me, please, please, please −" She mewled so loudly and sweetly that he lost control completely; he could feel the sweat trickling down his back from the exertion, one of his hands slid down her stomach, giving her pearl a few encouraging strokes from which her whole body quivered.

"− good girl − say my name −" He muttered with his face pressed against her soft hair, no longer controlling his movements, his hips slamming into her involuntarily, aggressively and quickly, no longer sliding out of her, chasing his own fulfilment, her walls clenched against him greedily, sucking him inside, wet and hot.

"− Aemond, fuck me, fuck me, f-fuck −" She whimpered and that was the end of it, from her lips came sounds of pleasure and relief he had never heard before, sweet, girlish, innocent, vulnerable, he felt her moisture trickle down her thighs, soaking him all over, her core throbbing hard in fulfillment, giving him wonderfull squeeze.

He gasped loudly, letting go at last, coming so hard inside her that it went dark before his eyes, his fingers tightened on her body to make sure she wouldn't escape him, their bodies writhing in convulsions, overwhelmed by how intense the fulfilment was, slapping against each other.

"− oh gods −" He mumbled, stroking her smooth shoulders, breasts, hips, thighs with his large, rough hands − he felt as if the scent of her body, her hair and her moisture had completely overwhelmed him, filling his lungs and his head. He closed his eyes, panting loudly with her, only realising after a moment that the fingers of one of her hands were still entwined with his.

They lay like that for a moment, trying to calm themselves, his lips finding her cheek, neck and shoulder, placing hot, lazy, wet kisses on them. He heard her sigh softly, her words like honey to his ears.

"− I want to taste you now −"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddessing @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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daiziesssart · 6 months ago

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a humiliatingly long character analysis of lily evans

Someone sent me an ask that briefly mentioned how misunderstood Lily is, and before I knew it I was typing out this monster. I am. sorry. This is literally just me rambling about her, what I find compelling about her character, and why her character is so often misunderstood.

This is long as hell so I'm putting it under a read more lolol

Part of the reason I like Lily so much (other than my being ginger and projecting onto any redheaded female character I see) is that even though she isn’t explored as much as her other Marauders Era counterparts, we know enough about her to start building the framework for her character. And what I see is a girl who was incredibly interesting, kind, and flawed.

One thing I always think about in regards to Lily is that she was dealt with a pretty unfair hand. As soon as she receives her letter, she’s basically torn between two worlds, both of which have been less than welcome to her. On one hand, we have the muggle world that she’s known all her life, but once she starts integrating into the wizarding world, she likely feels a bit of a disconnect with that world. To twist the knife further, her sister- whom she loved dearly and grew up so close with- starts outwardly resenting her with such unbridled hostility that they likely couldn’t even be in a room alone together without major conflict.

On the other hand, we have the wizarding world– a world she’s not as familiar with and one she soon learns holds a demographic of people who hate everything she is and would rather see her excommunicated or even dead. And even though finding out you’re a witch/wizard is probably such an exciting and life-changing moment, I can’t help but also take note of the difficulties, especially if you’re the only one in your family with magic. You’re essentially uprooted from the only way of life you’ve known at an already complicated age, and now you have to quickly become acclimated to this new world that you only just found out existed. Not only that, but now you’re suddenly attending a school with classes that are primarily focused on this world of magic (which is still brand new to you), and you have to work extra hard to play catch up in order to do well. Like, that all seems like… a lot for a kid to handle.

And then I remember how young she was when she was thrown into that mess. She was only 11, and kids that age desperately crave any sense of belonging. I mean, that’s something that still holds true for adults, but it’s especially critical for a developing child. So imagine Lily, ages 11-15, struggling to stay afloat in this weird purgatory between these two parts of herself, both of which have been the cause for major and traumatic experiences relating to rejection in her life.

(I say it was the “cause” even though it’s obvious that those things were never her fault at all, but when you’re a young kid navigating the world, the only thing you’re able to process is that the common denominator is you, therefore you’re the one who must shoulder the blame.)

So now we have this tween-teenaged girl who has a dysfunctional relationship with two major parts of identity and probably feels absolutely lost.

This is why her hesitancy to end her friendship with Snape makes sense to me. Even though by fifth year he’s already well past toeing the line with the dark arts, Lily was willing to overlook some pretty egregious and troubling things in order to maintain the relationship. I kind of interpret that as her way of desperately clinging on to any sense of belonging she has left; her relationship with Petunia has already been poisoned, and now there are people who resent her existence as a witch; if she loses Severus too, what and who else does she have? And what tone does that set for her, if everyone and everything she’s come to hold close to her ends up turning her away?

It’s also important to note that not only is Severus one of her few remaining connections to the muggle world, but he’s also a wizard who grew up in the muggle world; he understands her, and I don’t doubt that he gave her some stability at times when she needed it (her finding out about her being a witch, her having trouble acclimating to the wizarding world, etc).

I see this as being one of her flaws and I can actually appreciate how relatable and realistic it feels. Lily is not a bad person; on the contrary, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone to describe her as such. Not to get all clinical and boring, but the interesting thing about (unhealthy) coping mechanisms is that it can actually be really hard to identify them in your own behavior. Unless you’re in therapy and/or are actively psychoanalyzing yourself, you likely don’t even realize how many of your common behaviors are born from self defense mechanisms put in place by your brain after past events.

To me, it makes sense why she avoided actually confronting the idea that Snape was too far gone. We know that she was aware of the path Severus was taking, but it almost seems like she was still convinced that she could save him, and could possibly steer him back in the right direction. It’s only when she becomes the target of his bigotry that she realizes that the Snape who called her a ‘mudblood’ was not the same Severus who was the one who held her hand and introduced her to this new, exciting world.

In a general sense, yes, it is selfish, to only take a stand when something starts affecting you personally. But I also think it’s important to note that it’s unlikely that this was a conscious decision on Lily’s part. In my eyes, it was easier to delude herself into thinking she still had a chance to save him before it was too late when she was able to separate him from his actions (considering, a lot of the time, she was only hearing about them after the fact, rather than seeing them firsthand). But the elusion is shattered once she sees that the Snape she grew up with– her friend, Severus– is, in fact, the same person who’s out there calling other students slurs, dismissing the malicious use of Dark Magic on others as just “a laugh”. There we see a Lily who is actually revealed to have been somewhat aware of Snape’s involvement with the darker side of magic, and genuinely feels pretty ashamed about her inaction.

Also, this is in no way me being a Snape-anti, and I actually could do an entire separate analysis on his character alone and why I find him so interesting.

Anyways, that moment in SWM is probably somewhat of an epiphany to her. It’s like a dam that’s been broken, and now she’s overwhelmed with the realization of exactly how much she overlooked in order to keep their friendship afloat. And for someone like Lily Evans, someone whom we know is opinionated and unafraid to call others out on their bullshit, that can be hard to swallow and feel pretty mortifying and shameful. And I think this was a huge turning point for her- at that point, she doesn’t have the luxury of avoiding uncomfortable truths anymore and now that she’s getting closer to graduating and being thrown out into the world on the brink of war, this was probably a really sobering discovery.

This is where we don’t have as much info to go off of, and a lot of it is up to interpretation. But we actually have little crumbs to go off of following her graduation and leading up to her death.

One of my favorite little tidbits isn’t in the books, and @seriousbrat's post reminded me about it. Here's the actual entry on Pottermore for anyone who's interested, but I'll summarize: after James and Lily began dating, Lily brings James to meet newly engaged Petunia and Vernon. Everything goes downhill, because Vernon is a smarmy asshole, and James is still pretty immature and can’t help but mess with him (which… fair, I guess). Petunia and Vernon storm out after Petunia letting Lily know that she had no intentions of having her as a bridesmaid, which causes Lily to break down into tears. I mention this because I also think it’s a pretty important aspect of her character; like we’ve seen in her past friendship with Snape, Lily seems more than willing to forgive others most of the time. Petunia is a bit of a complicated character herself, but she was objectively very cruel and unfair to Lily once it became obvious that she was a witch and Petunia was not.

Something that always stands out to me is just how desperate Lily is to earn Petunia’s trust and approval again. Even up until her death, she was more than willing to mend the relationship, were Petunia ever to consider.

This is a detail about Lily that I feel is misunderstood quite a bit. I’ve seen a lot of instances of her character being reduced to a one-dimensional archetype with little to no complexity. And often, that archetype is “know-it-all, prudish, self righteous bookworm who is also a goody two-shoes with a stick up her ass”. What annoys me is that the reason for this is most definitely the scene in which she blows up at James in SWM for bullying Snape, and hurls quite a few insults at him directly after an extremely devastating and overwhelming situation for her. This frustrates me because we know for a fact that she’s the polar opposite of this archetype I’ve seen her reduced to.

In actuality, she’s referred to as popular, charming, witty, bright and kind. From flashbacks we also are shown that she’s opinionated, bold, and not afraid to challenge others. With other context, like her interpersonal relationships, we can also see that she’s pretty emotionally driven and wears her heart on her sleeve.

(I know Remus didn’t mention Lily much in the books, but I really love how he described her in the movies. He tells Harry that the first thing he noticed about him was not his striking resemblance to his father, but his eyes, the same eyes Lily had. He also calls her a “singularly gifted witch” and an “uncommonly kind woman”.

“She had a way of seeing the beauty in others, even and perhaps most especially, when that person could not see it in themselves.”

I know there are mixed feelings on whether or not the films count as canon source material, so take it with a grain of salt, but I personally cannot see a world in which Lily and Remus didn’t become close friends.)

Here we have a direct description of what she was like and who she was, corroborated by recounting of memories of her, and yet for some reason, this feels like the thing that is most commonly lost in translation.

I don’t think I can say why I think that is without mentioning the dreaded M word (misogyny- it’s misogyny), but I also don’t want to get too off topic so I’ll be brief: female characters are typically not given the same grace as male characters. When we have an undeveloped male character, he’s awarded the assumption that despite his lack of depth, there still exists a complex and multifaceted character– it’s merely just potential that hasn’t been tapped into. Whereas when we have underdeveloped female characters, they are taken at face value, meaning that not much exists beyond the little information we have of them. They are not presumed to have a life or a story that exists beyond the surface of what we know like male characters are. That’s why I think characters like Regulus, Evan, or Barty (just to name a few) are more popular than Lily, despite being less developed than she is.

(Before anyone gets defensive, no, I don’t think it’s an individual problem that you alone need to be shamed for. I think it’s the result of a deeper issue regarding misogyny in media as a concept; these are things that we’ve all unknowingly internalized and while it’s not our fault, we still have to do the work to deconstruct those learned prejudices.)

What I find really cool about her character is that despite how much she’s been hurt, she’s also still known as one of the most loving, kind, and considerate characters. There were so many times in her life where the love she received was conditional and ripped away from her– and I think that’s what makes her sacrifice even more poignant. She was able to protect her infant son from an extremely powerful dark wizard, wand-less, knowing that her husband was just murdered in cold blood, just from how much love she felt for Harry. Her love was a force of nature on its own, and I just think that’s such an amazing thing about her.

I know I’m biased, given that she’s one of my favorite characters, but even upon delving into this, I still just find it so incredibly hard to understand how anyone can actively hate her (not indifference, but actual dislike). In my opinion (again, no one is unbiased, and she is a favorite character of mine, but trust me when I say that I’m trying to be objective as possible when I say this), she’s probably one of the most likable characters of the Marauders Era. I think perhaps a lot of people haven’t given her a chance or really taken the time to learn about her character, but it could be a myriad of other reasons that I’ll never understand.

There's so much more I could say but this is long enough and I will stop myself

Lily Evans, u will always be famous to me

#lily evans #character analysis #harry potter #i am a little embarrassed that i got so invested in this. i hope at least one person enjoys this insane essay that no one asked for

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 5 months ago

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By fire and heart.

Daemma Targaryen. Second daughter of King Viserys and queen Aemma, you're the living portrait of your mother with the character of a true dragon, as a second daughter you don't have right to the throne but certainly, you will protect your sister's succession by heart.

(You are one year younger than Rhaenyra.)

Warning ⚠️: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to! Grammatical and spelling errors, maybe this won't be good enough but In my head the story was a good one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Pt.2 is here

You're smart, brave and pretty, agile with swords and archery, you have interests in medicine and history, you feel proud of who you are, the confidence and self-esteem are one of many attributes. You always thought you didn't need no one else but yourself, you're good with it, for you that's more than enough.

You never complained about being the second child or about the preference of your father for Rhaenyra, for you it was fine, after all she was the first born, and your father's desire to have a boy helped to not feel this favoritism.

Your mother didn't have favorites, she loved her daughters, your relationship with your sister wasn't the best but it worked, you always thought Alicent was like her father, your uncle Daemon said it a thousand times «he's an arsehole» and you agreed, you never understood why your father couldn't see it in that way.

Daemon is a great uncle, your favorite person in the world but he always looks more interested in your sister, with you he was like the kind of father you wanted, fierce and protective, teaching you to fight and follow your own ambitions, you were good with the sword thanks to him, you were a good Dragon rider thanks to him, much of the things you like is because of him, your father is not really there for you, your poor mother was always in bed with her pregnancies, and Rhaenyra always with Alicent, you even take your classes with the septa alone, not with them.

After your mother's dead you for the first time felt weak, fragile and alone, the anger started to burn your inside, you were angry with your father, his wishes to have a son took your mother's life away, the poor newborn was alive for less than a day. Poor little thing, his little nose would never inhale the fresh air of the morning, his little mouth would never suspire and his eyes would never admire the majesty of the world or a dragon. Then your uncle making those comments about your baby brother hurt you, but you still admired your uncle more than to your father, in fact you were sure all this situation could be avoided if your father simply named your uncle as his heir.

- DAEMMA! You have to understand! I'm the king, it is my duty to bring heirs to secure the Targaryen bloodline on the throne.

- You already have an heir! Now leave, I don't want to see you, for me... You murdered my mother!

Were lonely nights and days, you rarely left your room, you were sad, angry, depressed. Your uncle was sent to go back with his wife, Rhaenyra was living her own duel, you didn't have a shoulder to cry in.

One night your father requested your presence with urgency. You arrived just in time, Rhaenyra was already there talking with your father.

- What's the meaning of this familiar reunion?

- Daemma, come here. I... I thought about what you said to me a few nights ago.

Your father looked tired and unsure of what he was saying but you were also tired, Rhaenyra is not understanding yet, but you, you have a presentiment.

-You were right, I want to apologize to you, my girls, all this time I wasted trying to have a son and named him as my heir... But, Rhaenyra, you're my first child, all this time you were the answer to my pleadings. I'll name you my heir.

Rhaenyra and you looked at each other in shock, what did he say?, without wasting time both spoke.

- But Daemon!

- Daemon was not made for the crown, but I think you are, Rhaenyra, I believe you would be a good queen, your mother would agree with me.

Rhaenyra is in silence, you're too since you're thinking about Rhaenyra as the first woman who will sit on the throne. Would the council accept this?. You were lost in thoughts that you didn't feel your father taking your hand in his, you realized it until he spoke.

- Daemma, you're my second child and I know you and I have our differences but... Promise me, you will support your sister, swear over your mother and brother ashes that you will always be at your sister's side.

For the first time in years, you and Rhaenyra had a connection, none of you say something, but both understood each other. Both nodded in silence, accepting what the destiny was putting on your shoulders. The three of you held hands while your father explained about the secret passed from the king to the heir, you went back to your chambers, that night you couldn't sleep you had nightmares about fire, blood and wars.

The next day, while your sister was getting ready for the ceremony, you were just there, observing her and Alicent, both were in silence, when your guard knocked on the door.

- Princess Daemma? I have the information you require this morning.

You stood up from your seat and left them, your guard told you about your uncle leaving the castle, so both are running to the dragon pit, he won't leave without saying goodbye, at least not without saying bye to you.

He's with a woman you never saw before, he's allowing her to touch Caraxes.

- Daemon... Leaving without saying goodbye is not what I was expecting from my uncle.

- Daemma...

He approaches you and gives you a hug, caressing your hair.

- The King sends me away, Otto Hightower, that poisonous snake convinced him.

- I thought it was the fact you celebrated while my family was suffering the loss of my mom and brother.

He steps back and simply looks at you and smiles, then takes your hand in his.

- Take care of them and take care of yourself, get stronger Daemma.

You nod in silence while he walks back at his dragon, in a blink of an eye Caraxes Roars and disappears with your uncle. You went back just in time to the ceremony, you were the first one to bend your knee and swear your loyalty to your sister, the future heir.

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solarissun · 7 months ago

Text

We are never, ever getting back together.

afab!reader x aged up Clapton Davis

Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, porn with plot, no use of y/n, hard dom, unprotected (wrap it please), angst, exes, daydreamed violence, aged up character

A/N: I’ve never posted my writing before due to being insecure, but now that I discovered this fandom on Tumblr, I decided to suck it up and see where it goes! I’m sorry if this is bad, I wrote it at 3 am two nights in a row. I just had to write something before I forgot all my ideas. Enjoy!

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You hated him. You hated him so fucking much. All you wanted to do was watch him wear your hands around his neck like a necklace. And there he was, standing outside the vacant apartment beside yours, cardboard boxes surrounding him.

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You're running late to work, having slept through your alarm. You quickly hop out of bed, jump into the shower, and throw on whatever clean enough clothes are on your laundry pile.

As you run out your door, you pause, noticing the piles of boxes lining up the wall of the apartment next to yours. You smile, waiting for whoever it is to walk out. You honestly didn’t mind your previous neighbors. By all means, they weren’t the friendliest of people. They’d bang on your walls if you even played your music one digit too loud.

So, honestly, you couldn’t help but admit you were pretty happy when they moved out. As you eye the boxes that take up half the hall, you feel yourself getting excited.

After a few moments, you see him.

Your heart drops, and you feel your whole life falling apart in just one second. He turns to look at you, your eyes locked on each other. Both of you pause, not a word leaving your mouths.

Almost exactly 2 and a half years ago, the love of your life, the man you pictured spending the rest of your days with, left. He didn’t warn you, he didn’t even call. You came home, and all of his and his sister's belongings were completely cleared out of your apartment, gone without a trace. All he left you was a text. A single text.

“I found someone new, I’m sorry. I truly wish you the best. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

After a few months of rotting in your bed with mascara-stained pillows and tear-soaked bed sheets, you got tired of wasting away. You moved away to a new, cheaper apartment, not warning anyone of your departure. You wanted a fresh start. A new job, a new home. A new you. All you craved was a way to forget the past, and you were so close.

Except after 2 years, the past was standing in front of you, only a few feet away. Anger bubbles within you, the deep cuts he left when he abandoned you all of those years ago tearing open and filling with nothing but pure, burning hatred.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, his face twisting.. into god knows what. You want to ask him so many questions. You want to get on your knees and beg him to tell you why he did what he did. At the same time, you want to sock him in his mouth. Instead of doing either, you turn on your heel, walking away as fast as you possibly can.

He doesn’t call after you, he doesn’t chase you. Instead, you hear the faint click of a door shutting behind you. Your anger turns to anguish as you hurry down the hallway, trying desperately to put as much distance between him and you before breaking down. You find a maintenance closet, slam it behind you, and sink to the floor. You sob until your throat is destroyed and your eyes are dry.

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All you can think about while you work is him. Are you grading your students' homework? Mike. You’re yelling at your class for being too Rowdy? Mike. He lives in your head the entire day, and no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is the look on his face when he saw you just a few hours ago.

The school day is finally over, but you dread going home. You wish you could curl up under your desk and live there for the next few decades. But you can’t, so you suck it up and drive back to your apartment.

You get to your door, fumbling with your keys as you quickly try and escape the hallway. You hear the door next to yours click open. You rest your head against your door in defeat. He walks by you quickly, not even glancing towards you. You clench your fists, swinging your door open as soon as you unlock it, slamming it so hard behind you the frame shakes.

You want to cry, just like you did before. But no tears spill. Your eyes don’t even water. All you feel is rage.

You decide right then and there, you're going to make him suffer for what he did to you. Besides, maybe if you truly make him miserable he’ll move back to wherever the hell he came from.

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Later that night, you start plotting different ways you can get him to pack up his shit and run away with his tail between his legs. You think of hundreds of possibilities ranging from glitter bombs in his mail to… Clapton. You shake the thought out of your head immediately. You can’t do that to him. He’d probably be down for anything, to be honest.

Despite that, you tuck the idea into the back of your head, writing it off as a last resort. You want to start with more petty things before immediately jumping to the most extreme idea your mind can muster.

You quickly form a short list in your head, smiling as you daydream the look on Mike's face as you go through each scenario. Around midnight, after you finish coming up with every possible insane revenge plot you can think of, you crawl into bed.

After tucking yourself in, you Bluetooth your phone to a speaker, turning it up. You play the most infuriating, mind-numbing song you can think of. It starts blasting out, the speaker shaking on your bedside table. You sigh, sinking into your pillow as you hear Mike’s old bed springs creak through the wall.

You sit there for what feels like hours, the same song looping repeatedly. He doesn't knock on the door. You don't even hear him speak, let alone breathe through the wall. You groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you realize it might be pointless.

Despite your failure on the first night, you continue to blast the same song night after night, all with the same result. After almost 3 nights of getting only a few hours of sleep, you give up. You have to step up your game if you want to get results.

A few weeks pass without you tormenting him. You want to make him feel safe. You want to make him feel like you realized it was all a waste of time. Well, you also waited a few weeks since that's how long it took for the prank package you ordered to come. Sure, the package was a bit pricey, but you decided it was worth it either way. As soon as the post office stops by your apartment, you snatch up the box, almost ripping it out of the poor mailman's hands.

You quickly customize it so Mike believes not only is it his mail, but that some random man from Florida sent it. At first, you had thought to sneak into his apartment and throw glitter over everything, just like you'd do back in high school. But, you need to be careful about how you go about this. Unless you want a lawsuit to land in your lap, you need at least some amount of deniability

After deciding it's perfect, you leave it directly in front of his door. He might think the placement of the box is a tad suspicious, but you rationalize it by telling yourself he’ll feel so special he’ll open it on the spot.

After a few hours, Mike comes home from what you assume is work. A part of you wonders why in the world he works on the weekends as well. You forget about the thought quickly as you flip open your phone, watching through the camera that comes with the box. You watch in anticipation as you hear the sound of tape tearing off of the cardboard. Your smile widens as you see Mike's face appear in the frame, peeking into the box.

After a few heartbeats green, blue, and pink glitter explodes directly into his face. He yelps, dropping the box immediately. As soon as the box thunks against the door, more glitter explodes out, covering his entire living room. You hear him groan through the wall, grumbling about how petty and childish you are.

You’re laughing way too hard to even care he knew it was you. Tears start streaming down your face, and you clutch your stomach as you try to breathe. You finally got him. You feel on top of the world as you look at the camera through blurry eyes. All you see is a beet-red Mike decked out in sparkles. You start laughing even harder as he flips off the camera before stomping on it, destroying the feed.

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Despite how his misery made you feel at first, you start to get a little less happy as the days pass by. He hasn’t talked to you about it and he hasn’t told anyone what went down, not even the landlord. A fraction of you begins to feel a little worried he might be planning. As you ponder the thought, you hear a knock on your door.

You creep over to the peephole, seeing no one standing at your door. You crack it open, worried Mike might be standing outside, waiting to ambush you. Instead of Mike standing around the corner with an airsoft gun, there's an Amazon package.

You smile, realizing exactly what it is. You ordered soundproof headphones so you could sleep while also torturing Mike. You quickly take it to your kitchen, tearing it open without a second thought.

What. The. Fuck.

Glitter sprays everywhere. Directly into your eyes, all over your dining table, all over the countertops. It even reaches the sink. You scream as you try and claw the glitter away from your face. As you stumble towards the sink, glitter continues to coat your entire kitchen.

This means war.

You immediately flip open your phone, not even bothering to clean the mass of glitter that’s coating your kitchen. You text the one person you know would do anything for you.

“I need you, Clapton.”

He found someone new? Well, so did you. And you’re going to do everything in your power to make sure he fucking knows.

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During your high school years, you and Mike became inseparable. It was the two of you against the world... Until Clapton Davis came along. The three of you became the best of friends. You always knew Mike was jealous of Clapton and how much he captured your attention. Despite how you felt towards him while you were younger, you chose Mike. And he threw it all away for some random bitch.

So, now you’re choosing Clapton.

A month ago, you two decided to reconnect and reminisce about old times. You had him over a few times just to watch a few movies, but the most you’ve done is kiss. Every time he’d come over, you knew he wanted more. And he was getting exactly that.

You lay in bed, waiting for just the right time. Around 2 am, you smile to yourself as you faintly hear Mike shuffle into bed and sigh as he sinks into it. Thank god for the paper-thin walls. You reach over to your bedside table, squinting into the light. You flip to Clapton's contact and text, “Do you think you could come over right now?” You had originally told him to come over the next night, but it had to be at an ungodly hour, or it wouldn't be as satisfying. Almost immediately He texts you back, “Are you okay?”

“I just need to see you sooner.” He immediately texts back a thumbs up, and after a little over 10 minutes you hear a knock at your door. You unzip your hoodie, quickly making your way to the front of your apartment. You open the door and there he is. He clearly had just woken up, wearing a tank top and grey checkered pajama pants. A fraction of you feel bad for calling him over like this, but you push it aside and remember who’s sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall.

He raises his eyebrow, unsure of how to ask why you ‘needed him.’ You don’t give any explanation before you throw yourself at him. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. He sucks in a breath, clearly confused. That confusion vanishes when you press yourself against him, pulling his waist against yours.

He wraps his arms around your waist, walking you into your apartment. He walks you backward, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You whimper as you feel him hoist your thigh up, holding it as his hip. Suddenly, he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him, your eyebrow furrowed. You sigh as you see him looking at your kitchen in utter confusion. “What in God's name happened?”

The kitchen is still completely decked out in glitter. The moonlight slithers its way through the window, illuminating the sparkles, making it look like a thousand stars splattered against the walls. You laugh a little, brushing it off. “Nothing Important.” He seems like he wants to say more, but as you grind your hips against his, he immediately forgets it. He groans, bending down to press his lips against your neck.

You tangle your hands through his hair as you feel his lips brush your neck. He starts sucking the skin below your pulse, making you whine into his ear. You gasp as you feel his teeth meet the plush skin, nipping at the sore spot. You slowly start grinding against him harder as his tongue swipes across the already numb skin. He groans against your neck, his breath hot against it.

His fingers slowly brush down your body, leaving goosebumps erupting on every inch he touches. His hand reaches your waistband, fiddling with the elastic. You whine against his shoulder as his fingers dip lower, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. You slowly grind your hips against his finger, desperate for more friction. He picks you up by your thighs, his fingers digging into the skin. You wrap your legs tight around his waist, holding onto his neck. He quickly carries you to your bedroom, throwing you down as he reaches your bed. He lays you down, sliding next to you.

He presses his lips against yours again, this time wasting no time to dip his fingers into your panties, not even bothering to remove them. He drags his digits through your folds, circling your clit. “Shit, you’re already so wet.” He gasps out. His middle finger teases your entrance before slowly sliding in. He slowly pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers on the spongy parts inside of you, hitting all the right spots.

“You like that?” He asks, and you nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. You feel him add another finger and your walls clench around him. “Fuck!” You cry out, frantically grinding against the palm of his hand begging for more.

He adds a third finger, and you see stars. He pumps faster and faster, bringing you dangerously close to the edge. You just barely overplay your volume, remembering Mike. As soon as your legs begin to shake, he removes his fingers, ruining your orgasm and leaving you feeling empty. Your eyes flutter open and you stare at him, whimpering.

He slowly puts the fingers that were just inside you in his mouth, cleaning them off. You bite your lip as he blinks at you through his long eyelashes, savoring the taste. He smiles down at you once he’s done, sliding your zip-up off your shoulders. He slowly undresses you, a pile of clothes beginning to form on the floor. He leaves you in nothing but your panties. His breath hitches in his throat as he studies every curve of your body.

You do the same to him, helping him pull his shirt off his head. Your hands quickly fly down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to his ankles. His tight grey boxers leave little to the imagination as you see the outline of his hard-on, begging to be free. You do exactly that, pulling them off of him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

Your eyes trail along every vein and detail, taking him in. He’s average, but somewhat girthy. The tip is hard and red, already leaking with pre-cum, slowly dripping down his shaft. You reach out, your thumb collecting it. You stare into his eyes as you suck it off of the pad, a bittersweet taste spreading across your tongue. As soon as your thumb pops out of your mouth, he grips onto your hips, pulling him on top of you. He slides your panties to the side and you moan feeling the cold air hit you. He slides his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness.

You slowly sink down onto him, gasping as his tip enters you. He grips your waist harder, holding you down. “You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest. “Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.

He pushes in, faster this time, and you finally feel his hips meet yours. “You’re such- Shit! You’re such a good girl.” Suddenly, he grabs you harder by the waist, flipping you over. You gasp as your bare stomach meets the rough sheets of the bed. He grabs your hair, pulling you against his chest, somehow hitting so deep you see white.

You moan out his name louder and louder as each thrust inside of you quickens. He shoves you back down against the bed, thrusting so hard the headboard begins to slam against the wall. You smile into the sheets realizing the torture Mike must be going through right now. “You’re taking me so well…” He grumbles out, pushing deeper into you.

The smile is immediately wiped off your face as he moves one hand away from your hair and slithers it down to your clit. He rubs circles on it with 2 fingers. You grip your fingers into the bed sheets, screaming into the mattress. Your vision starts getting blurry as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. Pure euphoria tears through you as his fingers quicken as well as his hips.

“I’m close-“ He groans out as your walls clench around him. He rubs faster and faster circles on your clit and your legs start to shake uncontrollably. You scream louder and louder, and your walls start to spasm. Quickly you hurdle over the finish line, coming all over his dick. You feel tears running down your cheeks as you feel him release inside of you, his hips stuttering.

You call out his name one last time before he pulls out of you, lying down next to you. He looks over at you, tears spilling down your face and your fingers still bunched up in the bedsheets. He laughs as you give him a shaky smile.

“I’ve imagined that since grade 12..” He whispers out. He reaches towards you, brushing your hair that’s plastered to your face with sweat. “Me too..” You smile, moving forward to press your lips against his. He kisses you back, pulling you on top of him. He smiles up at you, his face flushed.

“Round two?”

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Your eyes flutter open, the warm sun creeping through the blinds, bathing your room in a warm orange glow. You slowly reach next to you, feeling the muscles on Clapton's back. He stirs, turning onto his back. His eyes slowly open, and he slowly looks over at you. He stretches up, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I better go…” You get up as well, turning and placing your feet on the cold wood floors. You gather up his and your clothes from last night, handing them to him. After you're both dressed, you lead him to your front door. He opens it and steps out into the hallway, starting towards the elevator.

As soon as you hear Mike's door click open, you quickly grab Clapton's wrist, pulling him back towards you. You get on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him. He slips his tongue in your mouth, his hand untangling your hair. After a few seconds, you pull away, resting your forehead on his.

“I’ll see you around?” He says, smiling. “Of course.” You grin, pecking his cheek. He unwraps himself from you, turns around, and walks away. He doesn’t even seem to notice his old best friend who is standing just a few feet away, watching.

Once Clapton’s out of sight, you turn to look at Mike. Oh, he looks absolutely wrecked. His curls are a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes are even deeper than you’ve ever seen them. He has the same look on his face you’ve seen him have when men would flirt with you on your dates. But, he also just looks.. sad. You expect him to turn back into his apartment and walk away but he speaks instead.

“The glitter wasn’t enough for you, huh?” You scoff, anger filling inside you at his audacity. “A girl can’t have fun?” He raises an eyebrow at you and a small smirk creeps onto his face. “You think I don’t know how purposeful that was? Do you have any respect for others?” You laugh, right in his face. His mouth twists into a nasty scowl, his stupid smirk wiping immediately off his face.

“Mike, I lost every bit of decency I had towards you when you abandoned me for some..” You don’t finish the sentence, instead letting his mind fill in the blank. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks disappointed. He looked at you like that when you were still together.

You’ve always hated that look.

He opens his mouth and closes it, clearly wanting to say something important but deciding against it. He shakes his head and turns back into his apartment, closing the door behind him softly.

You do the same, opening your door and sliding down with your back against it. You pull your knees up to your chest, rubbing the bruises on your sides that Clapton left. You rest your head on your knees and sigh.

“God, what am I doing?”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

#smut #mike schmidt #jhutch #fanfic #enemies to lovers #clapton davis #clapton x reader #clapton smut #mike schimdt x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #clapton davis smut #light angst

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 7 months ago

Note

I hope you’re having a good day! I wanted to request a fic with Jimmy (or jey, I love them both) where the mc is a bridesmaid at their sister’s wedding and she meets one of the groomsmen (Jimmy) and they start to really like each other. The sister warns mc that Jimmy is a playboy but things start to heat up quick between the two anyway! You can add or take away any aspects, have fun with it. Thanks, I love your writing!

The Bridesmaid - Jimmy Uso x OC

thank you @summerssoldierxx for the request. Sorry it took so long to get out. Hope you like it! 🫶🏽

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

Main Masterlist

“I thought it was against the rules to look better than the bride.” Summer Cooper rolled her eyes and let out a sigh as she turned to face her newly brother-in-law’s best friend. Jimmy or Jonathan - she was very confused about the two names - had been flirting with her since they met at the rehearsal dinner last night. And she was flirting back, heavy until her sister pulled her to the side.

“Do not get involved with Jonathan Fatu okay.” Her sister Vanessa said. “He ain’t nothing but trouble and I won’t allow you to become another notch on his bedpost.” Summerhad never seen Vanessa look so serious before so she left Jimmy/Jon alone and ignored him the rest of the night. She was doing a good job at ignoring him during the wedding too, even though they walked down the aisle together.

“Damn you ignoring me? I thought we hit it off?” Jon broke her out of her thoughts.

“Listen.” Summer trailed off. “I’ve been told about you and your little games and I will not be another one of your victims.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Summer furrowed her eyebrows because Jon actually looked hurt and shocked at what she said.

“Oh ight. Shoot, my bad.” He said rubbing his hands together before walking away from her. She bit her lip as she watched him walk away from her. She quickly pushed him out of her mind and went over to her sister.

“I seen you talking to Jon.” Summer rolled her eyes.

“Yup. Told him to leave alone. Happy?” Vanessa smiled and placed her hand on Brittany’s shoulder.

“I’m only looking out for you.I don’t want to see my baby sister hurt.” Summer rolled her eyes and nodded her head.

“I understand. You just looking out for me.” Summer forced a smile on her face. “Now go dance with you husband.”

Summer laughed as she watched her nephew do his best TikTok dances on the dance floor. She picked up her champagne flute and took a sip as she looked around the banquet hall, the bitter feeling was back in her stomach as she watched all of the happy couples but once she looked at her sister and her brother - in -law she had a small smile on her face. That was what Summer wanted, someone who loved her unconditionally. And it seemed like every time she thought she found the one they wound up being complete jackasses who weren’t worthy of her time.

“Who is that man and why does he keep staring at you?” Summer furrowed her eyebrows as she looked in the direction her mother was looking and felt her heart stutter in her chest as her eyes met Jon’s.

“One of Dontae’s friends.” Summer replied as nonchalantly as she could. She arched her eyebrow as Jon pushed himself off the wall and started making his way towards her table.

“Hi i’m Jon” He said walking up to her mom and holding his hand out and Summer’s mom shook his hand.

“Oh, you’re Jon.” Her mom said, causing Summer and Jon to furrow their eyebrows. Jon looked at Summer who held her hand up and shook her head. “I’ve heard some things about you.”

“Apparently, everybody has.” He said, his eyes still on Summer who rolled her eyes and picked up her champagne flute, taking another sip.

“You wanna dance with me?” He asked Summer and before she could turn him down, her mother spoke for her.

“She would love to.” Summer shot her mom a look. “Summer Renee, don’t look at me like that. You might be thirty but I'm ya momma and will still whoop ya ass.” Summer shot Jon a glare as he tried to hide his laughter behind his hand. She rolled her eyes , stood from her seat and walked away from Jon and her mother towards the dance floor.

She let out a huff as the DJ started playing a softer, slower song. Jon smirked and pulled her closer to him, taking her arms and wrapping them around his neck before wrapping his own arms around her waist.

“So, what did you mean by you didn’t want to be another one of my victims.” Jon stated, getting straight to the point and instead of answering right away, Summer let her eyes wander around the room and stilled as they landed on her sister who was watching her and Jon dance. Summer shook her head and cleared her throat.

“I’ve just heard some things about you and.” She paused and shrugged, “Listen, I like you and I’m not tryna get my feelings hurt. Okay..” She said averting her eyes from his.

Jon scoffed. “What makes you think I was going to hurt you? Like I told you earlier, I thought we really hit it off yesterday. I’ve told you some shit I aint even told my twin brother.”

“Really?” She asked shocked and Jon nodded his head.

“Yeah, I’m not a liar, Summer.” She bit her lip and cut her eyes back over to her sister who was still watching them. Jon followed her eyesight and cracked a smile.

“Ohh, your sister is the one who was talking shit.” He let out a laugh. “Big sis looking out for lil sis, I get it now. What did she tell you?” Summer shrugged and mumbled,

“That you a playboy and that she wasn’t gonna let me become another notch on your headboard or something like that.” Jon bit the inside of his cheek and nodded.

“Wow. Aight, imma be completely honest with you right now.” He started and stopped dancing , so the two of them were now standing still while everyone else around them continued to dance. “I was married and got divorced about two years ago. And in those two years, I’ve had sex with one person.”

When Summer just arched her eyebrow in response, Jon sighed. “I told you I'm not a liar, Summer. I told you yesterday that I really liked talking to you. I ain’t try nothing with you, did I?” She shook her head. “Exactly, If I was a playboy wouldn’t I be trying to get you in my bed? Look, You live here in Pensacola right?” She nodded. “Aight so fuck what ya’ sister saying and have breakfast with me tomorrow. Get to know me without having your sister in your ear saying how much of a bad person I am.” Summer bit her lip and nodded her head, causing Jon to flash her his pearly whites.

He pulled his phone out of his suit pants pocket. “Here, put your number in my phone.”

Summer took it, but before she put her number in she looked him in his eyes. “Don’t make me regret this, Jon.” Jon smiled and took her other hand into his own.

“You won’t I promise.”

Sorry, this took me so long @summerssoldierxx. I really hope you like it and if you have anymore request, send them in ❤️.

🏷️: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @baconeggndcheez

@theninthwonder @empressdede @harmshake @alyyaanna @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade

@abadbitchblogs @qveenmikaelson @mzv11

@black-yn @badbitchcentralinc @bebesobrielo @saintaquarius

@theesexystallion

#wwe #jimmy uso x fem reader #jimmy uso x oc #jimmy uso x reader #jimmy uso x black reader #jimmy uso x you #jimmy uso imagine #jimmy uso fic #jimmy uso fanfiction #jimmy uso smut #whatdoeseverybodywant writes #wwe x black reader #wwe x reader #wwe x fem reader #wwe x oc #wwe x you #wwe x y/n #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic

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cece693 · 2 months ago

Note

you wrote about the mad hatter so well... i don't want to overwhelm you, obviously, but i would love a 2nd part!! and maybe in the future you can write some smut scenario with him? 😶‍🌫️

You're Not Crazy Pt. 2 (The Mad Hatter x M! Reader)

Here's the second part :) I'm iffy on writing smut for the Hatter since he's so childlike and I think he wouldn't go that far with someone, he probably finds kissing pleasurable enough, but who knows. I'll probably end up doing it 🤷‍♀️

tags: angst, happy ending, the reader tries to say goodbye, mentions of Alice, the reader is an idiot, but redeems himself

The Hatter's words stung, but you couldn't stay with him. You didn’t belong to Wonderland, as much as you envisioned yourself adapting to the world. You didn’t share its whimsical madness, its strange logic that defied all reason. You loved its colors, its characters—especially him—but deep down, you felt like an outsider playing pretend in a place that wasn’t truly yours.

So, you left.

Back in the real world, everything felt strangely muted. The once-familiar streets seemed dull and lifeless, lacking the vibrancy of Wonderland. Your sister Alice noticed your somber mood almost immediately. She’d seen you come back looking tired or perplexed before, but never like this. It was as if the life was sucked out of you; You weren’t yourself. She knew something big must've happened to put you in such a state.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the room, Alice found you sitting by the window, staring off into the distance. She approached quietly, her voice soft. “You’ve been awfully quiet since you got back. What happened in Wonderland?"

You hesitated, the words sat heavily on your tongue, reluctant to be spoken. How could you even begin to describe what had transpired in Wonderland? The way the air had seemed to still when the Hatter looked at you with those wild eyes, the hurt lurking behind his laughter? But after a moment, you sighed and decided to open up, knowing Alice would pester you otherwise.

“The Hatter…he told me to leave. He said I should return home. So, I did.”

Alice watched you carefully, her brow furrowed with concern. “But why would he say that?” she asked softly. She knew the Hatter was eccentric and unpredictable, but she had seen how he looked at you, how his eyes lit up whenever you were near.

You shook your head, frustration mixing with the ache in your chest. “I don’t know.” you admitted, though it wasn’t entirely true. “I think…I think he was afraid. Afraid I’d leave on my own someday, find something more important than him.” Your voice wavered, and you clenched your fists to steady yourself. “He wanted to push me away before I could do it to him.”

Alice remained silent for a moment, her expression softening as she pieced together what you weren’t saying. “So, you just left because he told you to?” she asked, not accusingly but with a kind of gentle reproach. “Without telling him how you felt?”

You looked down, guilt settling like a stone in your stomach. “I thought it was what he wanted.” you murmured. “I didn’t want to hurt him more by staying. But leaving…it felt wrong, too. It still does.”

Alice reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You men and your pride,” she said with a soft chuckle. “You’re both acting like fools. You know that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

She smiled, patient and knowing. “I mean that sometimes, people say things they don’t mean because they’re scared of being hurt. The Hatter’s a complicated man, but he’s not so different from anyone else in that way. You need to go back and talk to him. Really talk to him. Otherwise, you’ll never know what could’ve been.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you, resonating with the doubts and hopes that had been churning inside you since you left. She was right—you couldn’t leave things like this, with both of you hiding behind unspoken fears. You had to face it, face him, and figure out what you truly wanted.

Returning to Wonderland was like stepping back into a dream, one that you’d missed desperately in your time away. The colors were brighter, the sounds sharper, yet everything felt strangely muted by the tension in your chest. As you made your way back to the tea party clearing, you could feel your heart pounding harder with every step, a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

When you arrived, you found the Hatter sitting at his usual spot at the head of the long, cluttered table. He was hunched over, a hat perched lopsided on his head, his fingers busy stitching a ribbon that looked like it was fraying at the ends. His back was to you, but the moment he heard your footsteps crunching on the gravel, he stiffened ever so slightly.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” he said, his tone light and airy, but you could hear the strain in it—like a string pulled too tight. “Come to say a proper goodbye?”

You took a deep breath, stepping closer, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on your shoulders. “Yes, but I want to do it right. I don't want to leave with things unresolved between us."

The Hatter turned to face you slowly, his usual mad grin stretching across his face, but it was different this time. His eyes, usually bright and wild, were shadowed, clouded with something you couldn’t quite place. “Well then,” he said, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a broken sigh, “goodbye it is! Off you go, then! Don’t let the rabbit hole hit you on the way out!”

Without thinking, you reached out and pulled him into a hug. His body went rigid at first, as if he didn’t know how to react. You could feel his rapid breaths against your chest, hear the hitch in his throat as he struggled to keep up the façade. Then, slowly, he softened, his arms coming up to clutch at your back, holding you as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered, his voice cracking, caught somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Why are you making this so hard?”

“Because I don’t want to leave you,” you confessed, your voice thick with emotion. “But I don’t know how to stay when I feel like I don’t belong here.”

The Hatter pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “You do belong. To me, you do.”

His words pierced through you, breaking down the last of your defenses. You thought you had made up your mind to leave, to return to the real world where everything made sense, where things followed rules. But in that moment, nothing made sense without him.

You stepped back, letting go of him even though it hurt. “Goodbye, Hatter.” you said softly, turning away. “I’ll miss you.”

As you started up the path that would take you back home, every step felt like dragging a weight behind you. You reached the midway point, the fork in the path where one route would lead you back to reality. You paused, your heart aching with each second that passed. You glanced back, your breath catching in your throat when you saw him still standing there, watching you leave with a look of pure devastation.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t leave him like this.

Turning on your heel, you sprinted back down the path, the wind whipping against your face as you ran. You didn’t stop until you were right in front of him again. His eyes widened in shock, his lips parting to ask something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, pouring all the emotion you’d been holding back into that kiss—your fear, your love, your need to stay.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he stared at you, his eyes wide and searching. “You…you came back?”

“I did,” you said, smiling through the tears in your eyes. “If you’ll have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, he looked as if he didn’t believe you, his gaze darting over your face as if trying to find some hint of doubt or hesitation. But then his lips slowly curved into a smile—a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. “Oh, yes. Yes, indeed! And we shall have tea every day, and perhaps cake, and perhaps something more delightful!”

You laughed, a lightness settling over you that you hadn’t felt in days. “Sounds like a plan.”

#x male reader #male reader #the mad hatter x male reader #the mad hatter #the mad hatter x reader #alice kingsleigh #alice in wonderland #white rabbit #cheshire cat #red queen #white queen #tweedle dum #hatter x male reader #mad hatter #hatter x reader

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insomniakisses · 2 years ago

Text

Her Little Stark

Character: Cersei Lannister (GOT)

Requested?: Yes

Warnings/Notes: 18+ Content, MINORS DNI, Omegaverse universe, slightly au timeline / events. Tommen and Joffrey r both killed before the wedding, Tywin is the hand of queen Cersei.

You knew it was wrong. Oh how wrong and corrupt it was, the thoughts that flooded your mind about her. Cersei Lannister the queen herself. Your captor, a woman belonging to the family that had torn yours apart and killed multiple of the people you loves. And yet you cant help the throbbing between your legs whenever you see her.

You blamed her, for the way she released her scent around you or for how she always seemed to press her bulge into you as she walked past. The lingering looks and the way shed lean to whisper ungodly vulgar things into your ear about everything she wanted to do with you. It was all too much and had you head over heels for her, weather it was love or lust you weren't sure.

Today like no other you awoke to her shooing out your hand maiden demanding that she tend to your sister instead. Shooting her a look she left without complaint, leaving you staring up at your queen she smiles and reaches her hand out indication for you to take it.

She leads you to the next room, where a the tub is filled with bot water and there's an array of expensive soaps on a table beside it. You turn to her about to protest but she's already ridding you of your night dress, she chuckles almost meanly when you gasp at her palming your ass. Pushing her off and sinking into the tub as a way to hide your naked form from her.

She pays no mind however, sauntering over and sinking to the floor by the tub grabbing the soup she likes the scent of best before dipping it into the tub by you leg. Now wet she glides it across your skin, smiling to herself when you relax and allow her access to your body.

Your calmness fades when you here a quiet “oops” next to your ear, acting as if she had accidentally dropped the bar of soap that had landed by your leg. She acts as if she is about to reach it and you relax slightly, hoping you had simply misjudged her actions letting your eyes close again when you feel her bring her hand back up.

Its only when you feel her fingers rub at your clit that you jolt, attempting to push her off but she simply shushes you, kissing at your neck as her other hand moves to your breasts squeezing and tugging at them as she wishes.

“Its alright my little wolf,” kissing along your neck she moves to nip at your back and shoulders making sure all the marks can be coverable as she relishes in your soft gasps and whines your resolve disappearing as you let her have her way with you. Feeling her push two fingers into you, you cant help lean further into her hold allowing her mouth more area to kiss and mark.

“Quiet now, wouldn't want anyone to hear you sinful little mouth would you, hmm?” she hums against your neck as you plea for your release, which she gladly gives you capturing your lips with her own to silence your moans.

She smiles at your wide eyes when she pulls away, simply continuing to bathe you as if she hadn’t jus touched you in such a sinful way. She helps you dry off and dress, placing soft kisses along your bare skin as she does so, reminding you of how fond she is of her good little wolf and how soon she will have you as her little wife all hers to ruin and fill with her lion cubs.

Now dressed, you feel her arms wrap around you that sweet soft Cersei only you get to see resting against you. “You okay?” she chuckles bitterly the anger returning “I keep you captive here, Your family slaughtered by my own, Your sister tortured by my late son her previously betrothed and both of you needlessly reminded of your own fathers death by my father yet you ask me if I am okay?” She turns you to face her before sinking to her knees in front of you, face resting against your stomach. “Gods I don't deserve you”

Your silent then, hand running through her hair as she holds you to her burying her face deeper into your dress. “I'm sorry I shouldn't have brought it up-” you cut her off by kneeling next to her placing a soft kiss to her own lips. “Its okay” you whisper softly wiping away her tears when you here a knock at the door and are both notified of the council meeting Cersei is to attend immediately.

That night you return to your champers to find a note from Cersei, a request that you should go to her chambers tonight. You knew the connotations if you where to accept she means to bed you, clearly having settled the arrangement that you are to marry her and now needing to begin making heirs for her throne having non as it stands now.

You make quick work of undressing, wrapping one of your cloaks around your bare form and heading to her champers. When you enter you are greeted with the sight of her naked form laying atop the grand rug by her bed. Her hand stroking her cock gently, hand speeding up once she realises your there.

You body moves of its own accord and you find yourself kneeling against her, watching her hand glide up and down before she speaks, “Go on. Suck.”

Your cheeks flush as you move to take the tip into you mouth sucking gently and moaning at the salty taste of her pre-cum. Moving her hand to your hair she pushes you further down, her cock being forced down your throat as she groans. She holds you there while you gag, until you slap at her thigh to let go.

She growls at you, pulling you on top of her as her hand wraps around your throat. You whine in protest when you feel her tip brush against your hole almost slipping in, not wanting your first time to be forceful. As if sensing this she releases your neck, moving her hands to your thighs thumbs brushing the skin gently.

“Now, are you going to behave or act like a spoilt slut?” she taunts moving you against her cock moaning at your wetness coating her cock. “Behave” you whimper and she smirks, nodding in approval as she pulls you into a kiss as she pushes into you softly.

She swallows your moans, guiding you along her cock in a soft pace allowing you to get used to her cock. You surprise her when you grab her hands, pinning her hands above her head and moving to kiss at her neck. You pick up the speed of your hips, bouncing on her cock fast and hard.

A soft gasp escapes her when your lips reach her jaw, cock twitching rapidly and a gush of cum filling landing on your ass when u pull off of her jus before she cums. She groans and thrashes under you in protest as you smirk, “Think i found your weakness baby” you coo in faux sympathy.

Reaching behind you you sink back onto her cock, the tip red and throbbing from her ruined orgasm she groans moving to push you off but you simply grab her face pulling her into a kiss as you you ride her.

You smirk against her lips when she begins cumming again, going to pull off of her once more but she growls deep. Flipping you into a mating press with ease, satisfied smirk on her face as you try and fail to regain control.

“Now you said you would behave, and while i would love to let you have your fun i can’t very well put a baby in you when you wont take my cum” she nips your neck then, placing a kiss on it before biting there again deeper, mate marking you as hers.

She uses this as a distraction to fuck you properly, hard fast thrusts as she nears her next orgasm keeping this pace until her cock shoots hot cum deep into you. She pushes her knot in then her tip kissing your cervix as it shoots her load. Your walls milking her as your orgasm takes over once more.

Your both breathing heavily when she rolls onto her back bringing u with her so your laying on her front her arm rubbing your back. Kissing her neck you smile against her calling her your soft golden lion feeling her start rumbling in response eliciting soft purrs from you.

#game of thrones imagines #got #got x reader #got imagines #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #cersei #lannister #cersei lannister #cersei x reader #cersei imagines #got smut #game of thrones smut #cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister imagines

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thornnii · 9 months ago

Text

⎯ ☆ she's my girlfriend

genre: platonic, fluff wordcount: 0.6k pairing: percy jackson x older sister!reader tags: older sister/daughter of poseidon!reader (she/her), all poseidon children contain Ryan Reynolds level sass, inspired by this, swearing (obviously), percabeth summary: percy introduces his older sister to his girlfriend notes: short & sweet

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ancient greek sucked ass [reader] decided as she stared down at her notebook. her handwriting was messy and rushed from frustration as she compared her work to that of the textbook balanced precariously on her knee that she was learning from. in no way did she expect the learning process to be quick and/or easy, but it would have helped if greek characters weren’t such a hassle to draw in the first place. shutting both books with a sigh, [reader] instead pulled her reading book from her bag. it was a book annabeth had recommended a few months ago and it wasn’t until [reader] had been on a quest in maine that she’d had the chance to purchase the book and see if it really was as good as the young athena girl’s recommendation. not that she had any doubts, annabeth always gave the best reading recommendations.

[reader] spent the next few hours getting lost within the world that the pages of her book created. it was a fantasy story, a rare recommendation from annabeth who seemed to prefer nonfiction books. it had been roughly 2 hours since [reader] started the book and the sun had begun it’s descent towards the ocean as the breeze began to cool. [reader] took this as a sign to take her belongings back to her cabin before dinner was called. placing the receipt for the book as a bookmark, [reader] packed the book away and headed off towards cabin 3.

there were very few other campers by the cabins, most were trying to squeeze in a few more minutes before dinner to get their training or some other chore done. cabin 3 was seeming empty as [reader] walked up to the heavy wooden door, though her opinion was quickly changed when she pushed the door open. inside the cabin sat both her half-brother percy and annabeth. the pair were cuddled up on percy’s bed, seemingly having been reading together, but their eyes had snapped away from the book and towards the door upon [reader]’s entrance.

“what in the fuck knuckles is this?” [reader] raised an eyebrow, shutting the door behind her.

percy rolled his eyes at his sister’s blunt question before responding, “she’s my girlfriend, you intolerant shit.” he wrapped a protective arm around annabeth.

once again all [reader] could do was raise her eyebrow and stifle a giggle at her brother’s antics. “pump the hate-breaks, fox and friends.” [reader] put up a hand in surrender, “I’m just surprised anyone would date you, especially miss wise girl over here.”

percy frowned at his sister using his nickname for annabeth. not that the girl in question minded, she was trying and failing to suppress a wide grin from adorning her features at the poseidon siblings’ banter. “well, she is dating me so…” percy ended his sentence by flipping the bird at his sister, who just laughed. annabeth joined in with the older girl’s laughter and percy pouted in response.

percy opened his mouth to defend himself but before he could get a word in, he was interrupted by the call for dinner. [reader] dropped her bag on her bed before calling to the pair, “c’mon, might as well get there before we’re left with crumbs to pick from.” as she made her way to the dining pavilion.

a smile graced [reader]’s features as she walked. she was happy that her brother had found someone good and strong as a partner, and she already knew that if the couple ever argued she’d take annabeth’s side, no questions asked. [reader] was grateful for the few minutes it took to walk to the dining pavilion where she could have a moment of peace from her brother. she knew that as soon as the two were sat by themselves at the poseidon table that she would be getting an earful from percy. oh well.

#thornnii’s fics #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo series #platonic percy jackson #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #annabeth chase #percy jackson x annabeth chase #percabeth #x reader #x fem!reader #older sister!reader #daughter of poseidon!reader #fluff #platonic

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onlymurdersintheafterparty · 2 months ago

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OMITB S4:E5 "Adaptation"

We're at the halfway mark and I feel like fans with a Hercule Poirot or Sherlock Holmes type of IQ could solve the mystery by now but I am not one of those fans so I'm just here to recap and debunk or strengthen theories I already had. I say this every week but I am truly loving the pacing of this season and that they don't shy away from answering questions early on instead of trying to shoehorn everything in for the season finale. As always spoilers ahead!

Ok so now we officially have confirmation that there are two killers. After circling back to the footprint on the windowsill of the Dudenoff apartment, the tacky paper used on the photoshoot and production room set reveals that the footprint belongs to one of the Brothers sisters. We see that one twin is physically strong enough to lift a body when she lifts Oliver and moves him onto his correct mark. I don't think that necessarily means both twins are involved in the murder though. We also end the episode with that same twin being missing and hearing a gunshot implying that she has been killed. I have been waiting YEARS for a season in which the bodies start piling up and it's finally happening!

This episode was narrated by Marshall the writer and I don't know how to feel about his character. I get that he and Mabel are supposed to be similar in that they both have imposter syndrome but he in general just gives off red flags. He's inserting himself into investigating which is something killers do and him having the fake facial hair introduces the idea of the killers having disguises so clearly he was important to this episode. Not to mention he's giving stalker vibes or parasocial Arconiac vibes. I find it very interesting that Mabel and Charles did not view the video of his stand up to verify his alibi. This could very well mean that he was at the Arconia the night that Sazz was killed. He also never stepped on the tacky paper so we don't have his footprint. That's two strikes against him.

You know who else we didn't see step on the tacky paper? Glen Stubbins. Who is back by the way. I still don't care for his character but I am starting to suspect him. He's physically capable of jumping on the windowsill because he's a stunt performer and for that same reason I'm sure he's also capable of aiming and firing a gun. Also how did he know exactly where Charles lived? They only met the one time at the Stunt Man bar. And yes it's sweet that he brought bread but he could have left it downstairs with Lester. As Ben's stunt double I can't help but wonder if he was present at the Arconia the night of Sazz's murder but in disguise. There's actually a really compelling theory on the hulu subreddit that Glen is the killer if you want to check it out.

Bev actually does have an alibi for that night and seems to only be guilty of wanting her movie made. Can we rule her out just yet? Idk but we'll see. She didn't seem that confident while aiming the gun or firing it off to prove it wasn't loaded. Her revealing Sazz's voicemail and the time it was left definitely proved helpful in establishing a timeline and confirming that there are two killers. Or three if you think it's three people working together.

Howard working for the production team is only strengthening my theory that he's the Moriarty. This man is everywhere! He was working at the theater last season and immersed in the plot there and now here he is in the center of it all once again. Again I don't think he's an evil mastermind, I just think he started off envying the closeness of the trio and now he's high off the power of manipulating things behind the scenes.

Have any of you heard of the opera La Forza Del Destino? In A Series of Unfortunate Events, there is a reference and parallel to it in which a character is mortally wounded after a weapon is accidentally fired off and strikes them. What if the killer was aiming for Charles, saw Sazz dressed similar to him and was aiming to shoot, and the accomplice called to warn them that it was the wrong person but something startled the killer and they accidentally shot Sazz? Like for example they were ready to go and then someone knocked loudly or something which not only muffled the noise of the phone but startled them enough to shoot.

This season has so many parallels and coincidences that we have to assume is on purpose. We've got multiple dopplegangers and cases of mistaken identity, guns being misfired (Eva with Rudy's prop gun and Bev with Sazz's loaded gun), and even the blackout in the S4 premiere vs the fire alarm going off in the S1 premiere.

My small takeaways from the episode:

Mabel being 30 and having an identity crisis is so relatable and I hope she finds her way by the end of the series.

Lester talking about wearing a gimp mask is WILD

Charles mentioning having an account in Belize and Detective Williams pretending to unhear it is hilarious

I'm beyond tired of this Oliver and Loretta plotline and him being insecure about her new status as a celebrity. WRAP IT UP!

Fans keep bringing up the cold case and I wonder if that will become the plot point in season five

Zach Galifianakis telling Oliver about how Jonk (sp?) ran through the seven dwarfs and that they could be heard Hi-Ho'ing from the trailer took me out 🤣

Charles having a new murder board each week is my favorite thing because that's literally all of us fans each week after watching a new episode

Bev and Cinda would be besties or frenemies and I really need to see them in a scene together before the season is over

#omitb #only murders in the building #only murders hulu #omitb spoilers #only murders spoilers #omitb theories

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screamintoad · 24 days ago

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Silanche kid-Alaric Vanrouge

I liked both vers so take em. RSA pride and Diasomnia pride

“I was hoping to attend NRC like my sister but…maybe I fit in better here.”

Voice claim: TBA

Character info

Alaric is a quiet and sometimes timid young man. He prefers his own company unless he’s around people he likes. Sometimes others will find him curled up somewhere taking short naps in between longer classes. Sometimes the third year students will poke fun at him because they know his sister went to NRC but he always brushes them off, until they find a snapping plant in their dorm rooms a few hours later. Despite that though he’s a straight A student, he’s quiet but he’s learned a lot from growing up in Briar Valley and around the royal family. He actually talks a lot to his roommate, especially about books they’ve read or are reading.

His household is quite large since it’s him, his older sister, his parents, grandpa, and great grandmother all living together. Not including the animals. But, he wouldn’t have it any other way. His mom told him about when it was just her and her grandma living together with their old dog and he’s always thought about how lonely they both must have been. At home in Briar Valley he’ll be all over town, from helping at his mama’s bakery, to his granny’s flower shop, to hanging out at the castle when Silver is on duty.

Fun facts: Aroace icon. Certified mama’s boy. He doesn’t want to become a knight but he would be around his sister when she was training so he learned some things that way. Blanche and Granny Primrose made sure to teach him all about plants and botany, y’know, just in case. When he visits home, him and Fleur have a tradition of going on a trail ride past a waterfall that they’ve dubbed the “Fire Fall” because at sunrise the water appears golden-orange, then they’ll race back home and the winner chooses their next activity.

Basic info

Age: 16

Height: 173cm/5’6 during first year, 185cm/6’ at graduation

B-day: February 2nd (Aquarius)

Dominant hand: left

Family: Blanche and Silver (Mama and Dad), Fleur (sister), Lilia (grandpa “old man” for funnies), Granny Primrose (great grandma “granny”)

Nickname: Lil bat (by family), Ricky (by friends)

1st year

Class B

Club: Horseback riding club

Best subject: Botany

Hobbies: Gardening, reading, baking

Pet peeve: People who can’t mind their business

Favorite food: His mama’s cooking

Least favorite food: His grandpa’s cooking

Talent: Tending to plants

Character dynamics

Fleur: Thick as thieves, they’re inseparable when either of them comes home. Even as kids he would always follow her around. If he’s busy with something then she’ll be the one to find him and hang out until he’s finished.

Jane: Opposites into best friends. He doesn’t encourage her late night visits but he always hints that it’s okay.

Luna Howl: If he has bite marks they’re from her. Somehow she always drags him into her and Jane’s shenanigans, yet he never complains.

Joey Howl: Big bro. But seriously they’re close as well, he helped push him into confessing to Fleur.

Mika Bucchi: Roommateee. They spent the first week at RSA in complete silence, until Alaric saw him reading one of his favorite books and got so excited he asked about his thoughts on it. Ever since then they’ve talked to each other a lot more. He still forgets to warm him when Jane visits.

HOWL SIBS BELONG TO @blood-red-bumblebee AND MIKA BELONGS TO @twtysevapr

anddd extra tags: @gimmeurmoneyagh @babyghoul138 @bunniehunn @angelwishess @moonyasnow

@skibidibabygirl @justm3di0cr3 @midnightmah07 @beneathsakurashade @4necdote

@theolivetree123 TELL ME IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED OR NOT

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #silanche #alaric vanrouge #twst oc art

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murmel-malt · 5 months ago

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Hedaera Targaryen - 97 AC

Viserys Targaryen x Hedaera Targaryen (OFC) prev / next wordcount: <1k summery: my answer to the question: what if Viserys and Daemon had a little sister? canon divergent dance of the dragons au featuring canon and original characters.

chapter summery: Four years after her own wedding, Hedaera attends her cousin Aemma’s wedding to her brother Daemon and ruminates on what has happened since she married Viserys.

A/N: note that english is not my first language so there will probably be some grammar mistakes.

97 AC - Kingslanding

Daemon and Aemma’s wedding is nearly as grand as her Viserys’ had been. Once again the great hall is filled to the brim with decorations and guests and music and conversation, and the long table for the royal family at the foot of the Iron Throne to preside over the masses. The tables are laden with the finest food and Aemma is decked out in white and light blue and the silver circlet holding her veil in place, is matching the one on Daemon’s head. She looks happy Daera thinks; a far happier bride than she had been four years ago.

They are older now; Aemma being five and ten and Daera three and ten. She doesn’t feel very different, but everyone is telling her that she is now almost a woman, grown and ready to fulfill her wifely duties. She has yet to be pushed into the marriage bed, despite having flowered and plans to avoid it for as long as possible. Which probably isn’t for that much longer. The King is getting impatient, according to her Lord Father. But they will have to force her if they want her to share Viserys’ bed. There’s not a bone left in her that wishes to please any of her grandparents or father anymore. Instead they should be pleased that she has not run off or thrown herself from some tower. She has thought about it on occasion. Both about running away and throwing herself from the highest tower of the Red Keep. About the latter only in her darkest moments though and only twice.

The Queen and her Lord Father seem to have finally understood the consequences of their actions. No longer is Daera referring to them as Grandmother or Father, Alysanne is ‘her Grace, the Queen’ and she had flinched as if struck the first time Daera had addressed her this way. Her Father simply is ‘Prince Baelon’ and there is always a distance between them now, physically and emotionally. Everytime Daera looks into their eyes and sees the pain her behavior inflicts on them all she can think is: “Good. I hope this hurts you as much as you have hurt me.” She no longer feels guilt over these thoughts. It was them that hurt her first, now they simply reap the fruits of their hard labor.

The King is the only one who doesn’t care and Hedaera now thinks that he never cared to begin with. Not about her or about any of his daughters. She barely knows any of them but she has heard stories about them. How Viserra had been so desperate to avoid being sent North that she had tried to seduce Hedaera’s father. Baelon hadn’t helped her either. He had stood by his father’s decision, a loyal son to King Jaehaerys at the expense of his sister.

Viserys will be different when he is King, Hedaera decides. For one, she cannot imagine him ever being as scary as Jaehaerys; the thought is so ridiculous it nearly makes her laugh. Her brother just doesn’t have that air about him. Not now and not ever, she is afraid. Daemon even at four years younger can be scarier than Viserys; and Rhaenys, too. It is a very unfortunate thing that only the future king does not. Perhaps she as his Queen will have to make up for it. She puts the thought aside. She will not let her brother’s shortcomings ruin her mood.

From her seat beside Viserys she gazes across the hall instead, making note of the attendants and testing herself if she can remember all the names belonging to the faces and sigils on display. Many of the guests are Vale Lords, which is not a surprise given Aemma’s father Rodrick was Lord Paramount of the Vale. She imagines his recent death is still weighing on her cousin but the celebrations seem to have lifted her spirit. Not even Daemon seems able to dampen it, and apparently he hasn’t even tried. On the contrary, he looks almost happy, if Daera is to judge.

He has generally been more agreeable ever since he had claimed Caraxes last year. He is the only one of them that has a dragon now after Balerion’s death only a year after Viserys had claimed him. Some had taken it as a bad omen and that Viserys might turn out to be a bad king or something ridiculous like that. The dragon had been old, simple as that; and eventually even dragons died. It was only a matter of time. And honestly, Hedaera doesn’t need the death of a dragon to know that Viserys might not be a good king, she simply knows her brother.

Daera hadn’t even been allowed to try to claim a dragon. Four years ago they had told her that she was too young, now they pretended that as the future Queen and mother it was too dangerous for her. It was a weak excuse but she had no power to argue or contest it. Another reminded how powerless she was. Viserys of all people had comforted her, telling her that not having a dragon wasn’t so terrible and that perhaps it simply wasn’t her time yet. It had been a nice gesture and had actually helped a little bit but it still stung whenever Daemon talked about Caraxes.

It made her feel less than and that was infuriating because she knew she wasn’t. She was a Targaryen, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and if she did not get to have a dragon, well, then she would have to become the dragon.

a/n: this is a short one. sorry people.

#my writing #oc: hedaera targaryen #fic: hedaera-verse #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon oc #hotd oc #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #fyeahhotdocs #fyeahgotocs #short but... sweet?

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ikkleosu · 2 months ago

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Is Isabelle a "fix it fic" for Leah?

(Running back to my first love tumblr because I will not pay Elon to use more words)

So with the release of Isabelle's character bio, confirming Isabelle has romantic feelings for Daryl, it leads me to think more about what I've been suspecting for some time - that Isabelle's story was created to redo the Leah arc from s11, but this time do it right.

So, when we look at the Leah story from Find Me, it's very clear to most people that there was a story there that was meant to go someplace, relating to Carol and Daryl's relationship, that for whatever reason got canned.

There's the obvious parallels they drew with Carol and Leah (repeated dialogue etc), there's the knife that passed from Leah to Daryl to Carol and we were told was going to be significant - and was then never mentioned again. And of course, there's the fight at the end of Find Me that was never resolved on screen.

I think it's safe to say that was all leading somewhere, but because of COVID or the show being cancelled or Melissa leaving the spinoff, or some combination we don't know about - the conclusions from the Leah storyline were dropped, and it left a whole lot of unresolved stuff between Carol and Daryl.

We know Melissa and Norman have both talked about wanting the spin-off to delve into stuff from the main show that wasn't dealt with, and to give time to stuff they felt was rushed over. It's not much of a leap to assume the Leah story is one of those things, especially when we know form Angela Kang's own words that Norman was VERY MUCH not a fan of the Leah plot. So much so he asked for Daryl to kill her at the end of the Reaper arc.

So what if, the Leah storyline was intended to give us greater insight into the Caryl relationship, and specifically Daryl's feelings towards Carol? And Norman, along with the audience was frustrated that instead Leah just killed everything he's said about Daryl's attitude to love and sex, for absolutely no reason.

It's easy then to understand why Norman might want a redo of that chance to tell a similar story but with the resolution that was originally intended.

And so, we have Isabelle. Now, obviously, she's a very different character to Leah... but really, is she?

Both have fallen into a religious cult that helps them deal with their own trauma, and gives them a sense of family they were missing.

Both adopted their sister's child as their own (Leah lost hers, but Isabelle is drive by protecting hers)

Both manipulate Daryl and lie to him to keep him by their side.

Both, ultimately, ask Daryl to make a choice between going back to his family, or staying with them.

I think these similarities are deliberate. And I suspect there will be more similarities once we see season 2 - it looks as if they are both held captive by Genet, and may have similar through the wall conversations to Daryl and Leah when the Reapers held him captive.

So if we assume this is deliberate, we can also assume dialogue references are deliberate. Isabelle tells Daryl she doesn't need a hero - a line that goes back to Leah saying he always has to be the hero, and Carol saying she didn't need a hero during the fight in Find Me.

We also have the starts of the "making it right" dialogue when Isabelle asks Daryl if he could be happy there, and he says he doesn't know if this is where he should be - like Leah asking him where he belonged and he was unsure, but then said "I belong with you". This time, Daryl isn't going to ever say "I belong with you" to Isabelle, because as he said in Find Me he knows where he belongs.

Isabelle having feelings for Daryl is not for nothing. It will - if this speculation is correct - be a chance for things to be set right. If she has feelings she will somehow, at some point, express them. And that is where the storyline will "diverge" (see what I did there?) from the Leah storyline, and this time Daryl will be able to tell Isabelle "why not".

It will resolve the Connie question too, in that way, which was also never answered. Why don't you want to make a move on Connie? And why don't you respond to Isabelle's feelings?

Both are for the same reason, and it feels like this is the chance to finally say it.

I should add that

a) i suspect this will be cliffhanger throughout the season, and will play out like "Daryl's promise" from s1 where we won't know the answer, and it will all be opaque until episode 5 or 6

b) My understanding of the whys this might be happening, and why they gave Isabelle romantic feelings for Daryl, does not mean I like it or I would have chosen this route. I would not.

#caryl #twdcaryl #tboc

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babybells123 · 7 months ago

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There is something so beautifully anvilicious about these quotes;

" I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise." (AFFC, Alayne II)

"The dream was sweet . . . but Winterfell would never be his to show. It belonged to his brother, the King in the North. He was a Snow, not a Stark. Bastard, oathbreaker, and turncloak . . ." (ASOS, Jon V)

Both Jon and Sansa are yearning for Winterfell and the feelings/memories/family associated -but both are intrinsically restricting themselves based off of their bastard status. The notion of Sansa being the only Stark (and character) to transition from a high-born noble lady to a baseborn bastard cannot be overlooked. (And then of course, the notion of Jon being the only Stark (and character) to transition from baseborn bastard to lord commander, cannot be overlooked.) Jon has risen to the top whilst Sansa has lowered to the bottom.

She (GRRM) makes the comparison to Jon herself, meaning that GRRM makes the comparison himself. this isn't something interpreted by fans - it is right there, explicitly within the text.

Sansa's desire to reunite with Jon is "sweet," it'd be almost like a dream come true. Jon's "dream was sweet" as well. But "Winterfell could never be his" and seeing her brother once again "of course, could never be" (possible).

And then later on in the text, Jon is offered the chance to become Jon Stark, and have Winterfell in name. Thus his decidedly unsubtle desire (that he dismisses as an entirely impossible dream) is fulfilled by Stannis' offer, even though he eventually rejects it in truth "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa."

There is also the quote that precedes Jon's "sweet dream," where he fantasises about a beautiful little romance with Ygritte; showing her a flower from the glass gardens, feasting her in the great hall, bathing in the hot pools, and loving beneath the heart tree. This dream is directly connected to Winterfell and is obviously sexually + romantically charged.

So whilst Jon's desire is partially fulfilled (even if he doesn't accept it) can we possibly assume that Sansa's simultaneously unsubtle "that could never be" may also be fulfilled? Since GRRM seems to really be beating us over the head with how 'that could never happen' from Sansa's internal monologue "no one will ever marry me for love" is reiterated multiple times (just you wait sweet one!) and Sansa desiring to reunite with her brother who she has modelled her bastardry after, who is supposedly the only brother left to her, is immediately dismissed by Sansa because she's accepted the fact that she'll never be with her family again, (and that she shall never encounter true love).

The connections only keep connecting!

So to summarise:

Jon & Sansa both have "sweet" dreams/desires that connect to Winterfell/family.

Jon's dream is sexually/romantically charged, involves a red-headed girl, and establishes Jon's suppressed desires as actually romantic.

Both Jon and Sansa are bastards in these contexts.

Both Jon and Sansa woefully dismiss these dreams/desires as impossible as "that could never be" and "it could never be his to show."

Jon's desire however is later offered on a silver platter by Stannis Baratheon, to which he mulls over and states that he "has always wanted it" (to be his). Though he later refuses Stannis' offer on the basis that "Winterfell belongs to Sansa" - twice over he says this.

Jon 'giving' Winterfell to Sansa is in direct contrast to Robb (Sansa's image of an honourably idealistic older brother) flat out rejecting Sansa's claim on the basis of her marriage to Tyrion.

Jon thus establishes himself as the only character who respects and protects Sansa's claim. Who does not abuse or exploit it. (Even though he was given the opportunity for it and it's been his innermost desire since childhood.)

In a way, this further conveys Jon as Sansa's unspoken, subconscious hero who is protecting her interests and instilling all those heroic ideals (such as the Janos Slynt situation) - though she does not realise it and has accepted that "there are no heroes" at all. But Jon is the true hero, hiding in plain sight.

So, whilst Sansa believes there are no heroes, Jon fulfils those ideals. Whilst Sansa believes no one will marry her for love, Jon exists as the embodiment of all the chivalric, romantic ideals that she's so desperately wanted.

Can we now assume that Sansa believing that she will essentially never see Jon again as entirely anvilicious as she will in fact see Jon again?

GEORGE I'M IN YOUR WALLS.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #the fact that I could make a multitude of other connections #like Waymar Royce and the ashford tourney #and Valarr Targaryen #among many many other things #they really are so rich with subtext and linguistic parallels #and people will say they have 0 narrative basis???#HUH???#cause you know for a fact if this was about any other pairing you would not hear the end of it #just ironic lol #anyway Jonnel and Sansa Stark #not going to tell anymore than I already have !

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