#oh my lords I have so many things to say
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I'm french and like many people here, watched the ceremony out of pure spite. Was I surprised? No. Fucking annihilated.
It had EVERYTHING:
- Random kids carrying the flame
- Gays.
- French cancan't
- Furries
- Lady Gaga???
- Craftspeople and public workers
- Bloodshed, cannons and a metal band
- Masked genderless silhouette parkouring their way through the whole mess
- More gays
- Polyamory
- Non-binary dancers and actors
- POC dancers and actors
- Disabled dancers and actors
- Whatever the fuck was going on with those poles
- Lesbian kiss?
- France's most hated rapper singing a song written entirely in slang in front of THE FUCKING INSTITUTE DEDICATED TO THE FRENCH LANGUAGE?
- Her being accompanied by the National Guard orchestra.
- Gays. SO MANY gays.
- MINIONS???
- Hundreds of top quality instruments getting fucked up by the rain.
- Drag queens, opera dancers, fashion designers and...oh, yeah, Alsace.
- National icon Philippe Katherine but make it blue
- 100 years long horse ride
- Damn that armor's looking fine
- Giant balloon ascending to the sky and...just fucking staying there cause they had nowhere to put it
-Did I tell you about the gays?
Holy fuck.
I'm flabbergasted. I'm bamboozled. I'm lying dead on the ground, holding my last breath.
I mean yes, it was funny. Yes, it was strange. Yes, it gave France a super weird reputation.
BUT DO YOU REALISE THAT THE DESIGN COMMITTEE JUST SAW THE RISE OF OUR EXTREME CONSERVATIVE PARTY AND DECIDED TO THROW A MASSIVE "FUCK YOU" AT THEM???
I think I'm in love. Call me french in training.
#paris#paris olympics#paris 2024#olympics#lgbtqia#poc representation#disabled representation#oh my lords I have so many things to say#so proud of living in the shithole rn
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THE USOS REUNITE WWE SMACKDOWN (OCTOBER 25, 2024)
#no useful tags just me bitching lmao#i am SO unmoved#im praying theres more to all this than them just speedrunning this reunion just so certain things can line up in time for ple shows#and so wrestling fans with less than one braincell can get the instant gratification of their favwit tag team together again 🥺#bc oh bite me lolllll#so much of this ~cinema~ is starting to feel rushed and im just hoping theres turns or angles or REASONS for it#but thats asking me to trust wrestling with carrying storylines fully and i do NOT#the things i wanted most from this story were jey getting proper acknowledgement/vindication and apology for his abuse#and explanation for why the family treats solo as they do (and then expect him to be a well adjusted adult lmao)#jey has NO reason to forgive them yet like did they buy him hallmark cards behind the scenes?#and theyve done much worse to him for much longer the new bloodline#you dont get to brag about this being the greatest slowburn long term cinema storytelling and then just....#im HOPING so bad its not just as simple as it looks i am#they keep swearing theres so many more 'innings' to this so idk prove me wrong please literally do#but that still wont make me moved by ✨og bloodline reunion✨#bc what yall mean yall are still the heels in my eyes like why do you have so many family members yall left on the side of the road#while talking about family above all and dont divide family lmao#and i get ~twin bond~ but LORD#actually that twin bond excuse is evil too#solo go bring in jeremiah since hes technically part of wwe canon too and beat their asses together actually lmao#i aint forgot jey saying something like having brothers is great but how being a twin is just different/special#like yeah sure but can you not make your other siblings sound like secondhand brothers or whatever shdhfhjf#ok im done. for now. for this post. maybe.#venting about my interests is fun for me ok#its how i process the information given to me and understand it#and also i like to bitch
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i am once again thinking about The Boy
not the movie lol
#give it up for day 13#how has it just been 13 days since my first time seeing him in so long#🙈💕 i like how i haven't had A Crush in a sec and the last person it was on was him lol.#there's a lot of little stuff that's changed since then abt myself and between us ig but good lord i have never been more attracted to him#than i am now 😵💫😵💫 seeing him in sweats and a sleeveless turtleneck that first day has just had him in my head every day since#like HELP he's hot 😭 but then like... so am i omg (。ノω\。) actually cleaning my place finally so i can have him over lol#i know I'm hot but at the same time i forget ykwim.. until i look in a mirror or see a picture and I'm like oh right i exist.#anyways ms ma'am is getting better at talking to her friends abt these kinds of things ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ ♡#i say that there's nothing I'd do for a lover that i wouldn't do for a friend and that i just love ppl fundamentally#and i know this is my true self‚ but I'm somewhat new to living that in practice and on purpose.#I'm a little clumsy i think but no one's seemed to mind 🙈💕 i am happy that I'm learning and i am happy to deepen my friendship#and i look forward to how much easier this will be to navigate a yr from now ^.^ I've been polyamorous for a year and a half ig#and i feel like I've found my comfort zone yk? :3 ♡ what being polyamorous Means To Me#it's good to be here.. i look forward to the friends i will make after i move and i wish i was more forward w the boy sooner omg#but it's okay. he won't be Too far away it's just a bit of a trip. i wanna have him over a couple times before i leave tho and hopefully#many more at the next place ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა ♡ but i will visit him too hehe his family's rly nice
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supernatural s1e16 shadow (w. eric kripke)
Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He's stronger without us around.
#supernatural#spn 1x16#sam and dean#john winchester#sam winchester#dean winchester#by grabthar's hammer this MUST be my last gifset from this episode! dear lord.#supernatural gifs#spn gifs#mygifs#spngifs#long post#there were so many face journeys that i felt were important but i tried to cut it down to the most important ones 🥴#dean is exhausted and seems so defeated admitting that john should leave#in my humble opinion i feel like this was a fairly flimsy reasoning thrown at the issue because jdm wasn't available for much filming#the two times i've just sat and watched the episode - like everyone seems to believe what they're saying - but i don't#like yes. safer. alone. of course??? whatever man. it's a tropey thing you say but i'm not buying it :p#i do buy however that it's the sam and dean show and we got limited jdm time and we need the focus to stay on s&d and get john out for now#and sam seems genuinely really upset that john is leaving - but his words say he's upset that he doesn't get to help catch yed basically#not that it's like... an emotional attachment to being with john? sam's feelings about john are always confusing#but his face is definitely saying it's not just about catching the demon#i don't have anything disparaging to say about john here. who am i? oh. except jdm smiled at weird times with him in this role#and it made him seem kind of... smug to me in a way?? that made me wanna punch him :P#there was one weird smile in this interaction. earlier in the episode there was a lot of what i consider inappropriate smiling LOL
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my elf!laurens idea has been rotting in my brain for WEEKS. i am so glad i made a storyline for him cause oh my GOD he’s giving me brainrot
#john laurens#amrev#historical john laurens#looks nothing like laurens at all#that’s the fun in it!#sad#pathetic#slightly suicidal#elf man!#oh lord i have so many things to say about him#my art#nonhuman au
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the heedster and her mom, along with her mom's loml
#genshin#genshin impact#nahida#greater lord rukkhadevata#rukkhadevata#nabu malikata#goddess of flowers#this is grown up nahidster#somehow started obsessing over them (naburukkha) and am going insane#reading all the lore I can get my hands on aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh#I have so many things. to say about them like it's insane#not so much deshret#sorry king (literally) but I am yuri brained yuri pilled and yuri devoted amen#naburukkha#<- makin my own tag 😤#oh by the way the last pic is called 'asking kisses from the wife' .thank you
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"Why does everything need to be Gay now it's so shallow to make men attracted to each other when they could be Pure Platonic Friends -"
oops sorry I can't hear you over the sound of me Doing What I Want Forever because I have been watching movies, TV, and animation since the 80s and have watched enough shallow heterosexual romances that would have been stronger as mlm-wlw solidarity friendships to fill the space between stars in a galaxy
#also 1) friends can fuck each other so you're not safe especially since gay guys do this a lot#2) why can't there be a cast with MANY mlm characters where some are strictly friends and some are partners#(bc this is a real thing that happens in the real world shocker I know but sometimes friend groups have several mlm folks)#3) as an aromantic vaguely ace spec person I get the need for good platonic relationships#but uh queer people reading mlm romance into something (often based on their own experiences or representation needs)#that creators refuse to delve into#or god forbid writing it into their own work#IS NOT THE BIGGEST PROBLEM HERE#i can't believe it's the year of our lord 2024 and i am still seeing this thinly veiled homophobic take everywhere#2006 called and it wants its 'I don't wish evil on gays but i dont condone their gay stuff' attitude back#Also when I think about all the shows and movies that came from source material with wlw or mlm characters who were all but TOTALLY erased#Or I think about media about queer historical figures who were utterly straightwashed or had their queerness demonized#or reduced to a footnote or Non Controversial background noise#My rage about this increases like 10000 fold#Anyway TLDR ultimately I fall under the mlm umbrella and that's part of the reason I write the shit I do and I'm not the only one#And I write cheeky posts about it but I actually am genuinely disturbed sometimes at this sentiment#Because no one says it outright but there's this massive undercurrent of an assumption that we don't exist#And we don't create#And we don't create things FOR OURSELVES not even bc precisely because of all the times we were told#'Well that's not really marketable so if you want to see it maybe you should create it yourself'#I feel like I'm talking to a wall here DOES NO ONE ELSE GET ANGRY ABOUT THIS#LIKE HOMOPHOBIA ISN'T OVER YET#ESPECIALLY NOT FOR MLM PEOPLE WHO AREN'T CIS AND WHITE#Like stop calling sex and/or romance shallow when it's gay and SUSPICIOUSLY 0 OTHER TIMES oh my fucking god
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I was thinking earlier about the fact that the character I’m currently obsessed with (Blanche — and the rest of the Golden Girls, but mostly Blanche) and the last character I was obsessed with before her (Pearl Steven Universe) seem to have nothing in common except feminine presentation, which was so strange to me.
Then I figured out they both fit into the “character who had a long, encompassing Great Love at some point in their life, was immensely hurt by the loss of said Great Love, and is slowly trying to put themselves back together and overcome their fear to love again” definition and. Oh. Not so strange after all.
#this says a lot about me as a person huh.#love when I end up accidentally psychoanalysing myself through these things lmao#I’ll be adding ‘character type: widow’ to my list of favourite character traits#like literally they couldn’t be more different. i was so puzzled and then#they are fairly different even within that definition but the Loss of a Great Love is such a crucial trait for both of them#and I suppose it shows#I have so many feelings about Blanche’s marriage and the death of her husband ngl. I have Lots of Feelings about all the Girls#but atm Blanche’s widowhood is especially prominent in my mind for some reason#(as is the way she deals with grief and pain and fear. oh lord she is so dear to me)#the golden girls#steven universe
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"Whomevers pursuing whom in this very moment, I intend to eat them."
HANNIBAL I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD YOU ARE STRESSING ME THE FUCK OUT WITH YOUR COCKY LITTLE CHEEKY REMARKS THAT I KNOW ARE NOT ABOUT FISH JELLY
I love you so much and I know you have plenty of experience while I am literally laid here in bed in stitch pyjamas but oh my god
#Hannibal you are actually going to be the death of my both of my heart and the other area you make beat like a heart#hannibal i love you so much please never stop being you#except you could maybe stop the eating people part i think that would be good#just a thought#hannibal thoughts#please be gentle with me hannibal#hannibal#“im going to make these remarks because they're investigating me and it would be silly to say these things so its then it's actually smart”#YEAH BUT MY HEART CANNOT TAKE IT#oh my lord the small fight Hannibal has in s2 ep12 has me BEGGING FOR HIM#HE'S GOT SO MANY MOVES AND I WOULD LIKE HIM TO USE THEM ALL ON ME#his little raspy voice saying “shouldn't have done that” GONE. I AM JUST GONE.#OH NO OH FUCK WILL LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID YOU PREDICTED THIS SHIT#FUCK YES WILL THAT'S MY BOY#wait what the fuck is this set shit oh Hannibal what did you do OH OH I SEE OKAY ALRIGHT NEVERMIND CARRY ON#poor Mads has been made to look like some weird shit in this show#OH DUDE WHAT THE FUCK NO NOT THE FUCKING DOGS NO#NO HANNIBAL WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL THERE AICJSNDNISH#He's still going i love that this show just does not stop or hide anything i love that#stop it the way hannibal looks up at will as he walks up to him sketching he loves him so much
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thinking about recipes that taste different in every home, differing with each hand that makes it. how there can be so many different foods all sharing the same name, even within a single culture.
except not in a wow-cultural-variations-are-beautiful-way, but more along the lines of how they can inspire pure, distilled disappointment (or rage) in ways few other things in life can.
the dish stays the same, the ingredients stay the same, the cooking method stays the same - so you hear of [dish] and are briefly filled with hope and longing. bonus points if you're living away from home and you haven't had a chance to eat said dish for months or years. and!! here it is!! you've diligently avoided eating said dish at random restaurants over here because you just know (usually from prior experience) that they'll absolutely ruin it, so you're better off abstaining. or maybe it's the kind of dish that ISN'T available at restaurants, and your only hope is plotting and making friends with the right people that have family visiting in the vague hope that they're the kind to delight in plonking food into hands of "these students living all alone and so far from home :(" (nvm the fact that you saw said friend having the TIME of her life all this time because she's finally in a city with better food outlets than her hometown) (yes, I am aware that this is getting suspiciously specific at this point, shush)
so anyway, the food. it paid off! you put in the legwork and suffered through the appropriate number of awkward conversations with friends' parents who REALLY don't know you as well as they like to pretend they do, gave the right number of fake totally-not-awkward smiles, and now!! they're INSISTENT you join them for lunch because they brought [dish] from back home! and fuck, it's been literal MONTHS since you've had this last, AND they're from broadly the same culture as you so really, surely you can trust them to mean it when they call what they've brought [dish]. your eyes gleam and you agree, because oh man it's been so long and you just know it's going to be so good and the anTICIPATION is-
and then you take one bite and question your life's choices and experience a moment of unadulterated bafflement and abject loss because this was the first time you've had [dish] outside of your home and you didn't realise people used the same name for ATROCITIES like the kind you're attempting to eat now. it looks wrong, smells wrong, and tastes dreadfully wrong. this isn't [dish]. this isn't just a disappointment after all the build-up and hope you had. this is an insult. this is an embodiment of the sheer disrespect they have for the dish.
you realise then that ah, turns out disappointment actually DOES have a very distinct taste, and you just got acquainted with it. you wonder how they managed to ruin it so spectacularly. how!!! why???? literally WHAT lengths did they have to go to in order to manage to make [dish] taste so alien???
anyway, that feeling. few emotions I've experienced in life were as potent as that welling up of abject horror and sorrow as I tasted the first long awaited morsel of a beloved dish made in a different style (an objectively WRONG style /lh)
#this is about gongura pachadi (a type of pickle)#i will. readily sell an appendix for some good gongura pachadi#the images ddg provides when I look it up on the interwebs look terribly questionable so ignore them#and take my word for it when I say it looks much better and tastes excellent#well I love the taste anyway#anyway i have and will eat it literally every single day - multiple times a day actually - if i can#i didn't have it for two whole days recently and i missed it so much (it was just sitting in the fridge but that's not the point)#so i had it again today and life suddenly made sense again :]#but it reminded me of the time my roommate's parents brought their version of gongura and it was. good lord. so wrong on so many levels#i'm sure they feel the same about the version we make but shushhhh#oh also the name is fascinating#telugu has this interesting thing going on with corruption of words#and gongura is another example because while i /write/ gongUra i tend to pronounce it as something closer to gongOra#but telugu is a phonetic language! so idk why this happens but it's with a lot of words. see also: writing being 'vrayatam' but pronounced#'rayatam' by dropping the 'v' sound; or katuka (that's kohl) being pronounced katika by some (me)#where was i going with this - oh yeah it's interesting because we already have accommodations for word corruptions in our grammar#but this is a different kind or something? problem is that my telugu is pretty sucky so im not entirely sure if it's#a family thing/community thing/region thing/or just me personally mishearing and making mistakes#but no vrayatam vs rayatam is v common - in fact we have a term for it: it's basically bookish vs spoken language#but again gongura/gongora ISN'T an example of that dichotomy from what i understand so i think it's like a different genre of corruption?#apologies if this isn't making much sense; i'm quite sleepy#anyway what was my point#oh yeah gongura my beloved <3#placeholder tag
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ik in reality the library of alexandria burning didnt actually set humanity back by much. However i still wish it hsdnt burned bc it makes me sad,
#but on the other hand lotsss of potential for the library of alexandria in media. for example if it hadnt burned my best friend ivy#alexandria Of the mechanisms fam wouldnt exist. so maybe some things r worth it. its like ww1 like sucks wish it didnt hapoen but at least#gunpowder tim? Thats a joke .#sucks abt jesus getting killed but also drumbot brian? SRY I NEED TO LITERALLY STOP DJTBRJFBFJFN ive been thinking abt them#they r like weevils.#but yas. bc like#yes it had a ton of scrolls but the thing abt scrolls is like. say the bible. it can fit in one codex/book +#have room for more. vut it would take Tons of scrolls yk....#so even if there r like 10000 scrolls. that wouldnt be that many still bad burning books/scrolls always a bad thing but like yk. but still#....... basically. i miss the library of alexandria I never knew it personally but its much lika pangaea to me#where i have a fictionalized version of it in my head and im like Wow i miss it . we need 2 bring this back !#sigh. oh lord now ive thiught abt Pangaea again
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did I finish the entirety of season two from the moment the clock struck midnight to now, 8am-ish, and is my brain both sludgy muck while every molecule vibrates at frequencies never reached before? why did I do this now I gotta wait another two years for s3
#shadow and bone#idk how I'm gonna work today I am grishaverse garbage for the foreseeable future#I have many a things to say and scenes to rewatch and pick apart#I didn't even like it that much but I loved it lmfao#spoilers#rip darkling!ben barnes you were unhinged and so tragically beautiful (on the outside at least)#I have doubts about Rollins as the next big baddie but looks like a new drug lord might take that spot instead#when I was thinking 'jeez someone give Nikolai some fucking flaws' I didn't mean THAT#I have so many feelings about the zoya/genya/Alina trio ❤️😭❤️😭❤️#oh my god david#GENYA OH GENYA#you know what I'm not touching any of the ships with a ten foot pole I am lying on the floor contemplating my life's decisions okay#every relationship romantic or otherwise actually drove me insane#not to mention all the HANDS
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.
#i found an old tweet of mine#from june 2021#where i'm complaining about the exact same thing i've been feeling these past weeks#IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I DO#WILL I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE THIS?#why was i in the year of our lord 2021#when i was only working#complaing about not having time???????#when i now in the year of our lord 2023 am swamped with too many thing from uni and a position at my job#that barely lets me do things while i work because every minute i decide to take for myself someone calls me?#like i want to go back and understand what i was going through two years ago that made me feel as miserable as i feel today#and that feeling led me to thing: oh i don't know what i'm doing with my life oh i feel so empty oh i feel so purposeless#and then three months later i was applying for uni#and now#A YEAR AND A HALF IN UNI#i'm again rethinking my decision because NOW i barely have time for myself#like.... i seriously can't understand what i was complaining about two years ago#because today i have it so much fucking worse#but anyways this is just so say#i don't know what i need to do with my life#for this feeling to go away#bc i don't feel a way out soon#i don't feel things changing#unless i change them but then to change it all i have to take so many risks and i fucking hate it#depression and anxiety only serve to keep me in the same fucking loop years and years on end#i just want this to be over jfc#personal.txt
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zuko confiding in sokka to be his wingman to try to get together with you?
a/n: sokka sharing his back bending skills with zuko we love to see it. also this takes place post-war
summary: Zuko isn’t sure how to tell you he likes you, so he looks to Sokka for guidance
Zuko watches longingly from across the room as you dance with Katara and enjoy the night’s festivities. Your eyes sparkle with joy and your smile is so infectious it has everyone around you beaming. Everyone seems to want your attention, and so he hadn’t been able to speak to you much since the party began, but he desperately wants to be near you.
“You know you look like a total creep when you stand in the corner and stare, right?” Sokka notes, interrupting Zuko’s sulking.
“I’m not staring!” The Fire Lord says defensively, but he knows he’s not fooling anyone.
“Come on, buddy, it’s a party! Lighten up! Go mingle!”
“I don’t want to mingle,” Zuko grumbles indignantly, “I just want to talk to y/n.”
“Then go talk to her!” Sokka encourages as if it’s the most easiest thing in the world. “It’s not like you haven’t talked to her before. She’s our friend!”
“I know that,” the boy bites irritably. Deflating, he sighs, “But it’s different this time.”
“What do you mean?” Sokka says, his demeanor morphing into that of a more serious tone.
“I… I think I have feelings for her.”
“You what?!” Sokka exclaims, earning a few puzzled stares from nearby partygoers. Zuko sends his friend a harsh look and urges him to be quiet.
“I know, I know. What am I thinking? She’s perfect, she’d never go for someone like me,” he admits in quiet defeat. “It’s stupid of me to feel this way.”
“What? No way, that’s not true,” his friend insists encouragingly. “You’re a great guy! You just need to work on your romance game.”
“My what?” Zuko retorts skeptically.
“Your romance game! Look, if you want y/n to like you then you have to work your charm.”
“I don’t have any charm to work.”
“Sure you do, it’s easy! Take it from your old buddy Sokka, the ladies love me. Just follow my advice and by the end of the night y/n will be dying for you to ask her out!”
Zuko is skeptical of his friend’s words and hesitant to take Sokka’s offer of help, but he knows he’s hopeless on his own and there aren’t many other options. With a relenting sigh, Zuko gives his friend an agreeing nod.
“What should I do first?”
“Just follow my lead,” the boy says with a wink before loudly calling you and his sister over. Zuko does his best to mask his embarrassment and puts on his best attempt of a smile as you and Katara saunter over arm-in-arm.
“Hi, guys!” You greet cheerily. “King Kue really knows how to throw a party, doesn’t he?”
“He sure does! Say, that’s a really nice dress,” Sokka compliments before harshly elbowing Zuko’s side. “Don’t you agree, Zuko?”
“Uh, yes, it is,” he stammers nervously, his face immediately turning red. “You look very beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you reply with a bashful smile. “You don’t think it’s too much?”
“Not at all,” he says earnestly. “You could never be too much.”
“You know, y/n, Zuko here was just telling me how much he wants to dance,” your friend informs you much to the Fire Lord’s dismay.
“What?! That’s not-“
“Oh, well, would you like to dance with me, Zuko?” You ask with a careful smile, delicately holding your hand out for him to take. His protests immediately die in his throat as he takes in your gentle features, the world almost seeming to come to a halt as he focuses on you before him. Your beauty almost physically pains him, and he wished he knew how to tell you this without coming off like a total creep.
Zuko hesitates before taking your hand, knowing that whatever happens next could alter your friendship forever, but the idea of physical touch is almost too tempting, and so he gently grabs hold of your hand and guides you back to the dance floor.
The musicians play a melody of traditional Earth Kingdom waltzes, and despite knowing nothing about dancing Zuko does his best to match your pace. His hands are suffocatingly warm against your skin, but you never once complain. You say nothing when he steps on your toes repeatedly or gets caught on your dress, and in spite of how awkward you both look compared to the other couples on the floor you seem to be having the most fun out of them all.
“You’re doing wonderful,” you encourage, giggling when he missteps and nearly trips over his own feet.
“I’m awful at this,” he argues exasperatedly. “I’m sorry you got stuck with such a lousy dance partner.”
“I don’t care about how good you can dance. I’m just happy you’re dancing with me,” you admit, looking away bashfully to hide your smile. “I haven’t really been able to speak to you much tonight, so I appreciate being with you now.”
Over your shoulder, Zuko spots Sokka from across the way. The water tribe boy waves his arms frantically and gestures for Zuko to make his move. The Fire Lord simply scowls before swallowing down his nerves and looking back to you.
“Y/n,” he calls faintly, gently guiding your face to look back up at him. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you all night, but it’s been hard. You’re so full of life, you draw people in with just your smile, and so I didn’t think I’d get the chance to finally be alone with you and tell you that- well, that I have feelings for you. I want to be the one that makes you smile, the one that dances with you at every party.”
“Zuko,” you murmur softly, taken aback by his confession. He takes your surprise as rejection and looks down with a dejected smile.
“I know, we’re friends. It’s strange of me to think we could be more, but I just needed to tell you.”
“No, that’s not it,” you quickly correct him, “I-I’m just surprised because I didn’t think you felt the same way I did.”
"You mean… you like me back?” Zuko asks in disbelief.
“Of course I do! What’s not to like?” You tease with a smile. “All night I was hoping you’d come up to me, and even though Katara said I should be the one to make the first move I was too scared to try. I’m glad you told me because I feel the same.”
You feel as if your heart could burst when he carefully tilts your chin up to meet your lips in a kiss. Ever since he joined your group you’d wanted nothing more than for him to see you as you saw him, and after months of what you thought was one-sided pining it seems Zuko has felt the same way about you all along. It took some time for things to come out in the open, but now that they are you couldn’t be any happier.
And unbeknownst to either of you, Katara and Sokka share high-fives behind your back in celebration of their successful plan.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
#melzula writes#request#zuko#sokka#zuko x reader#zuko imagine#prince zuko x reader#prince zuko imagine#atla#atla x reader#atla imagine#avatar the last airbender
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His Second Wife - cregan stark x reader (request)
summary: two years following the death of cregan’s first wife, he accepts an undesired marriage proposal to rhaenyra targaryen’s daughter. rhaenyra’s daughter, who had loved cregan the moment she first met him as a young girl, immediately loves and accepts cregan’s first child as her own. yet it is still not enough for cregan to find his own love for his new wife.
cw: mean cregan😓, widow!cregan, targ!reader, loss of virginity(reader), rhaenyra’s daughter, angst to fluff, unrequited love, sex, happy ending
do yall notice i always post a long ass story usually around midnight or later ( i’m unwell)also this is long af soz it was a detailed request and I wanted it to be to a T. this is SOO long. i prolly should have done two parts… oh well @lillithsalvatore hope you enjoy it love ❤️
“How do you feel, my love?” Your mother asked, placing a warm and comforting hand on yours.
You sighed. “Nervous.”
She gave you that warm and sweet smile of hers. “I know. I hope you know this choice was not easy for me to make, as I know this was a hard task for me to place upon you.”
“I know, mother.” You say with forgiveness, giving her hand a squeeze.
“Had it been any other lord I would have surely declined but… Starks are the most honorable among men. I know your union will be blessed by the gods.”
You give her a smile, blindly trusting her words. You had met him once, and you knew he was kind. In fact, he had left a paw shaped imprint on your heart. You thought to yourself no union could be more suitable. You knew he had married once before out of a prior marital alliance, but the marriage had been short lived, lasting only a year before his first wife died in her birthing chambers.
It took more than four moons before you arrived at Winterfell, as if every power in the world was set on preventing it. You were not a superstitious person, so you simply thought all the bad things that happened prior to your marriage was coincidence.
Each time you went to leave, something prevented you. Your mother miscarried your baby sister, Lucerys was killed by Aemond, Daemon went silent at Harrenhall, Rhaena ran away and was lost in the eyrie before revealing she claimed Sheep-stealer.
You arrived in the dead of winter, and the journey had not been kind to you. You got a chill on the way up, causing you to stop at an inn for a few nights, you had came across raiders who killed one of the many men escorting you, and your clothes were ill suited for the weather.
You did eventually arrive at Winterfell thankfully, all in one piece.
You stepped out of the carriage cautiously, eyeing the snowy landscape surrounding you. It went as far as the eye could see. You held your hand out, letting the thick snowflakes fall and melt in your hand.
“My princess.” You turn to see Cregan, walking towards you. He bows, forcing a politeness. “Winterfell is yours.”
You bow in return, “No need for such formalities, Lord Stark. This is your home, and I am honored to have you welcome me here.”
He nods, choosing to say nothing else to you.
“Please show the princess to her chambers.” He says to one of the servants, then immediately turning on his heels to leave. Your jaw falls slightly, surprised at his curt demeanor.
You compose yourself, trying to hide the slight hurt in your features before making your way to your private chambers.
You bathed immediately, welcoming the hot water against your skin. No water could be hot enough for your dragon blood, but what they had drawn up for you would do nicely.
Your wedding was a week after your arrival, the lord having given you time to settle in. You had not seen him much during that week so you chose not to bother him, assuming he was busy with duties.
When you walked down that snowy path to the red weirwood, Cregan stole a glance at you. You looked beautiful, and he felt horribly guilty for thinking it. He felt like what he was doing was betraying her.
You said your vows, swearing your love before the old gods. You smiled at Cregan and he gave you a forced one in return. Guilt wracked his whole body. He felt guilty for you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you a union where you were loved, he felt guilty for liking your smile, he felt guilty for forgetting hers.
There was a feast following the ceremony, nothing large due to the pains of winter, but it didn’t bother you. The small gathering felt intimate, compared to southern weddings where lords and ladies travelled from all over the realm to witness it.
It was here you met Cregan’s son, Rickon.
“Hi, little one.” You said. He was only two, a fat little babe who looked just like Cregan.
“Rickon, this is my new wife.” Cregan said. The way he worded it made you twitch, it had sounded so strained. He didn’t even use your name. You told the boy the name he could call you, but he said nothing as he hid behind his father’s leg.
“I apologize.” Cregan said, his voice showing no sign that he actually was sorry.
“It is alright, my lord. He is just a babe. He and I will have time to get to know each other.” You said. Cregan tensed up, suddenly remembering again this union was forever.
“Excuse me, princess.” He said, turning and walking away with Rickon. Your heart sunk a bit. You could start to sense it now, Cregan was not in the slightest invested in your union together. You felt lost, out of place suddenly.
You sat back down at the high table, overwhelmed with nervousness. You bit at your nails and the skin around them, biting until they bled. You missed your mother dearly. Being here, in this room among strangers who didn’t care much for southerners to begin with, made you feel small.
You had sat there for an hour or two, not moving or eating once, save for your cuticles.
Cregan came to you, not noticing your nervous state. If he had noticed, he chose to ignore it. “I’ve put Rickon down… Would you please accompany me to my chambers?”
You looked at him, the nail bed of your thumb resting between your teeth. You nodded, standing and staring at the hall one last time. You locked eyes with a man, who noticed you both about to take your leave.
“Is it time for the bedding ceremony, Lord Stark?” The man asked, erupting a few cheers from the men mostly.
“No!” Cregan nearly barked the order. “There will be no bedding ceremony.”
The men in the crowd shuffled awkwardly at his outburst but accepted.
“Princess.” Cregan said, walking away and not waiting to see if you were following.
You did anyway, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. You had the sense he wanted this to be over with quickly.
He held the door as you both entered his chambers. You took in your surroundings. It was a clean and large kept room with a lit hearth and a large bed. A thought passed your mind, even though you tried to push it down.
Did he share these chambers with her?
Cregan began to take off his armor and furs, again not watching to see if you did the same, only assuming you were. If you weren’t, he didn’t care.
“Um, could you help, my lord?” You asked, referring to the laces of your white wedding dress.
He sighed, walking over to you as you turned your back to him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to hide it.
His hands were gentle with the laces, not tugging at them as you expected him to. He obviously had experience doing this before.
He grew emotional as he undid your dress, but he hid it well. It was a weird sense of deja vu. Your hair looked like hers from the back and he felt like he was back at his first wedding.
You pushed the dress off, revealing the sheer linen soft dress underneath. He hadn’t moved from behind you, trying to maintain his composure. You walked away from him, lying on the bed and biting your nails again.
He finished disrobing besides his briefs, and you stole a glance at his back. It was huge, muscular and scarred.
He walked over to the bed, getting between your legs and pushing up your shift.
“Is this alright with you, princess?” He asks. “We need not consummate this if you are not ready.”
For the first time it seemed like he kinda cared about how you felt. His hand still had a hold of your shift, which was resting on your pelvic bone.
You nodded, “Is it alright with you, Lord Stark?”
He nodded, pushing your shift up the rest of the way to reveal your chest. He wanted to fall on his sword for the way he kept stealing glances at your breasts.
He pushed his briefs down, and you choked on your breath at the reveal of his length.
“Oh, gods.” You mumbled under your breath.
He rubbed himself against your slit, and your heart stilled for a minute. The feeling was foreign and intense.
He gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. You hadn’t even realized you were still doing it, it was starting to become like breathing. A natural, unintentional habit.
Your hands fell to his biceps to steady yourself. You looked at him, but he did not meet your gaze. He instead bowed his head, watching himself enter inside you.
You dug your nails into his arm, gasping in shock. He gently shushed you, telling you it was okay.
“Please, please.” You said, not knowing what you were even pleading for.
“What?” He asked gently, his voice low and almost mimicking of your whining. It sent a shiver up your spine.
He was slow and gentle with you, not in it for any pleasure himself.
You touched his chest and his hair and his arms, and while he didn’t stop you he made no effort to touch you himself. His hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight.
Your hands found his arms again and you moaned softly, feeling your peak building in your stomach. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his head, moaning as you spilled onto him. He closed his eyes as he felt it, and guilt wracked him again.
He gently pulled out of you and stood up, immediately dressing himself into his nightwear. You pushed your shift back down and pulled the linen covers over you, immediately going back to biting your nails at his reaction.
He laid beside you, not facing you and not saying anything.
You said nothing, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed how he intentionally avoided spilling himself into you.
———
It had been 3 months since your arrival to Winterfell, and you had adjusted as well as you could given the circumstances.
You did not often see your lord husband, but you were used to it. He spent a lot of his free time in the crypt where she was. It hurt, but you gave him his peace and he appreciated that you didn’t hover.
“Mummy!”
“Sh, sh, love.” You say as Rickon runs into your chambers.
Cregan did not like when Rickon called you his mother. He’d gotten upset with you a few times over it, and you assured him you would correct Rickon when it happened.
“Mummy.” He repeated. You giggled. pulling him into your lap. You shook your head and tapped his nose, saying, “Nooo. Not mummy.”
“Mummy.” He laughed, and you ran your fingers through his thick brown curls.
“What ever will we do with this mop on your head, my son?”
“He is not your son.” You turned to see Cregan standing in the door way. “And his hair is fine.”
“Apologies, my lord.” You said, curtly. He ignored your attitude.
“Come, Rickon.” He said, beckoning his son.
“No, mummy.” Rickon whined, holding you.
“Go see papa.” You told him, and with your blessing Rickon ran to Cregan.
Cregan gave you a cold stare as he left, and you returned the favor.
You were growing ever so agitated with your husband. He had welcomed you into Winterfell, but not his heart. The only time you both had shared a bed was the night of your wedding, to which Cregan had made sure not to give you an heir.
You had no one. Rickon had you, Cregan had you even if he did not want you, yet you were alone here in Winterfell.
You decided to write to your mother on Dragonstone, requesting for Jacaerys to pick you up on dragon back so you could visit your family and hopefully receive advice. You had left your dragon, Silverwing, at home. You did not want to disrespect the already hesitant northern people, and you did not want Silverwing to be cold or hungry.
That night when you were brushing your hair before bed, there was a knock on your door.
“Come in.” You looked in the mirror and saw Cregan’s half sister, Sara, enter.
“Hi, Sara.” You said. She came up behind you, taking the brush from your hand and slowly combing it through your hair. You two had formed a unique bond, given you were both considered outcasts in Winterfell. You were a southerner, she was a bastard. They were two sides of the same coin here in Winterfell.
“I heard what happened today.” She said, and you hummed mindlessly. “My brother can be a bastard.”
You smiled at her in the mirror. “Is that so?”
She nods. “I wish I knew what to do, Sara.”
“We northerners love hard, princess. We are unwaveringly loyal. The wound of losing Aly is still fresh in my brother’s heart. Give him time. He knows you love Rickon, and that scares him. I don’t know why.”
“Was Aly pretty?” You ask.
“You have a southern beauty we do not see often in the North. Aly was not a beautiful woman, but she was a fierce fighter. That is how history will remember her. She was born fighting, and she died fighting. I know you are a fierce fighter as well, princess. You are the blood of the dragon. Do not let the grief my brother holds make you feel small.” She kisses the back of your head. “Throw a fucking book at his head if he acts like that again.”
You laugh, her joke comforting you. She turns and leaves you alone, your head clouded with thoughts of Aly.
You heard back from Jacaerys within a few days that he would arrive shortly to bring you home. You had not yet told Cregan, as you knew he wouldn’t care anyway.
A few days following the letter from the raven, it was Sara’s name day. Cregan had decided to celebrate with a feast, one bigger than your wedding.
You all sat at the high table, your husband and sister in law drinking heavily. Although Cregan was a big man, the amount of ale he consumed that night seemed enough to kill a horse.
“My princess.” A servant rested her hand on your shoulder. You and Cregan both turned to look at her, and she grew nervous, not expecting Cregan to pay any attention or perhaps she would not have asked the princess the request. “Rickon has had a nightmare and wants no comfort of the maids. He is requesting you by name specifically, princess.”
You turn to look at Cregan for his approval. He gives a quick nod, which you hadn’t expected. Perhaps he only obliged since Rickon had requested you by your name, rather than requesting his “mother.”
You walked with the maid to his chambers, opening the door.
“Mummy.” He said through sniffles. You turned to face the maid.
“I thought he requested me by my name.” You said.
“That is your name, princess… to him.” The maid closed the door.
You turn to face Rickon with a gentle sigh. “You know papa doesn’t like that word.”
“Mummy.” He just says again. You walk to his bed, fitting yourself in to lay with him. He cuddles into your chest, and you play with his hair to help him sleep.
“Say it okay.” He says.
“Hm? What do you mean, child?” You ask.
“She say it okay to call you mummy.”
“Who?”
“Mummy did.”
“No, you have to call me my name, sweet boy.”
“Not you, mummy. My other mummy said it okay.”
“You confuse me, Rickon.”
“Mummy says ignore papa.” You chuckle softly.
“Sleep now, my love.” You say, and he slowly falls asleep while you hum him a soft song.
You rise, tucking him in and giving his head a kiss.
You open his door to return to the feast, and Cregan is there waiting.
You gasp, covering your mouth quickly to not wake Rickon.
“Gods, you scared me!” You whisper/yell at him. He says nothing, his eyes in a glossy and drunken haze.
You close the door, nearly standing chest to chest with him.
“I heard you sing to him.” He says softly. “Where did you learn that song?”
“He taught me it.” You say, as you go to step past him when he stops you.
“Cregan?” You say confused, turning to look up at him.
He takes your cheeks in your hands and slams his lips on yours. You freeze for a second in shock, before immediately returning the kiss. He presses you against the door, and you moan into him as you quickly grow wet with Cregan’s sudden change of behavior.
He moves to press gentle kisses on your neck, biting softly here and there. His fingers dig into your hips, grinding himself into you. You moan softly, trying not to cause too much noise against the door.
“Not here.” You moan. He avoids your eyes, taking your hand and pulling you further down the hall to his chambers. It was only your second time in his room. He lifted you into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you against the wall.
You both hadn’t even undressed, but you loved the thrill. Your husband finally wanted you after three long grueling months. He pushed your dress up to your waist as you unlaced his breeches.
He took you there against the wall of his chambers, fucking you so sweetly, fucking you in a way that would surely produce an heir.
Your moans filled the halls, and the servants began to spread word that the lord had finally moved on from his first wife.
He carried you to the bed, placing you along the edge as he stood, fucking you with sloppy and drunken thrusts.
You moaned his name, both of you drawing so close to your peak as your hands rested against his stomach. He leaned closed to you as hand moved beside your head to hold his weight, and the other moved under your lower back to lift you slightly off the bed and pull you more into him. The angle sent you over the edge, crying and moaning his name.
Your moans pushed him over, but his next words made you sick.
“Fuck, Alysanne.” He groaned, burying his head in your neck and spilling his seed into you.
You gasped, not even sure you heard him right.
He kissed your neck a few times and then rolled off you, not noticing the look on your face.
You laid there unmoving, still in your dress which was now damp with sweat, and your thighs now sticky with Cregan.
He fell asleep the second his head hit his pillow, still in his clothes.
You choked back a sob, moving your hand to your mouth so he wouldn’t waken. In reality, you could’ve started screaming and he wouldn’t have woke, or even shuffled.
You exited his chambers, trying not to be sick on the way to yours.
“My sister!” Sara drunkenly yelled as she seen you in the hallway. She took notice of your disheveled dress and hair. “Oh my gods, did you and Cregan just…?”
You ignored her, but she noticed the tears on your face. “Wait, sister what is wrong? What happened?”
You slammed the door in her face, throwing yourself into your pillow and screaming.
—
“Mother would be furious if she knew you were sleeping this well past sunrise.”
You groaned, lifting your head from the pillow to find the voice in the room.
“Jacaerys?” You said, when your eyes landed on him.
“I take it the feast for Sara Snow was a success.” He says, making fun of you. Your hair was sticking to your face, wet with a mixture of tears and drool.
“I guess you could say that.” You said, wiping your hair to the side.
“You’re disgusting.” He says.
“Gods, five minutes you’ve been here and you already frustrate me! Get out!” You say, both of you immediately teasing and arguing like you had never left home.
You push him out of your room.
“Don’t touch me, wench!” He whines, smacking your arms.
“Piss off! Go harass the bloody Lord of Winterfell.”
“I’d rather harass the Lady.” You push him out of your doors, turning and pressing your back to slide down the wall.
You hear him knock again and you rise to your feet, angry. “Jace, I said-“
You don’t finish your sentence, since as you open the door it’s Sara.
“I wanna talk about last night.”
“I don’t.” You say, going to close the door on her before she pushes it back open.
“What happened?” She asks, angry. She closes the door behind her and follows you to the bed. You sit on the edge and rest your elbows on your thighs, burying your face in your hands.
“Did my brother hurt you?” She asks, worried.
“No, no.”
She rests on her knees in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Tell me what happened.”
You sigh, trying to hold back your tears, but you cannot. “We had sex.”
“Isn’t that good? What went wrong?”
“He called me Alysanne.” You sob out.
“Oh, no.” She says, moving to sit beside you and wrap her arms around you.
“I cannot stay here no longer, Sara. I am being haunted by Alysanne. I find letters she wrote to Cregan, her clothes, her weapons. Rickon thinks I am her and Cregan wishes I was.”
“I am sorry, princess.” She says, sadly. “I thought I knew my brother better than that… Perhaps, if you talk to him about these past few months things can be different. Just give it a try, yes? You have your brother here now. You can leave if things do not work and the marriage can be annulled.”
You did not even wish to think of that possibility. It would be so shameful for both of your houses. You would do everything in your power to make it work.
You cleaned yourself up and went to Cregan’s chambers, knowing he would be hungover.
And you were right.
You entered his room without knocking, finding him in a bath with a warm rag over his eyes. Three times now you’ve been in his chambers.
“You can set it on the table.” He says, not moving the rag.
“What?”
“Oh.” He says, his voice changing in tone. “I thought you were the maid.”
You say nothing, unsure of where to even begin.
“Can whatever you’ve barged into my chambers for wait until I am done.” He asks, only the question is more of a statement.
“No.” You say, angry. You walk over to him and pull the rag off his eyes. He squints at the brightness, then gagging on the air as if he might be sick. “We’re going to talk, Cregan. We’ve been married for months and I don’t think we’ve ever truly had a conversation once. It is all I am asking. You could at least give me that. You’ve given me the cold shoulder for three months, and I’m tired of it. I’ve helped raise your son, I’ve loved you and I’ve cared for you even when you didn’t want it. You owe this to me.”
He sighs, defeated. “You are right in that, my princess. I apologize. We can talk later, alright?”
“No, Cregan. We will talk now.”
“You wouldn’t rather talk when I am of a clear headspace?”
“No. Now.” You say. He sighs again.
“Say your piece.”
The words left your mind the second he said that. You had this conversation in your head many times before, but now it was here and you could not handle the heat of the moment.
He raised his eyebrow at you, as if you were dumb.
“Oh, do not do that. I thought you Starks were supposed to be the most honorable among men. This whole marriage I have been treated with everything but. You are a disrespectful man, Stark. I am truly sorry about Alysanne-“
“Do not speak to me about my wife, ever!” He yells, pointing at you.
“I am your wife!” You cry out. “You chose me, whether you were ready for another marriage or not! I left my home, my family, my dragon to be with you! If I cannot have your love, is it too much to ask for your fucking respect?!”
He goes quiet for a few moments, “You have always had my respect, princess… and I know I have erred in the way I’ve treated you these past moons. But this marriage is just a duty. Nothing more, nothing less. This marriage is not out of love… so do not expect me to love you back.”
You laugh, dryly. “You called me Alysanne last night… Do you remember that? No… I suppose you were too drunk. You never would have touched or cared for me like that sober.”
He says nothing, but his hands grip the side of the tub and his face is contorted with anger. You rise, hiding any sort of emotion on your face.
“The dead don’t need lovers. Only the living.” You said. He threw his rag at the door as you walked out, not even granting him a second glance.
The memories of last night flooded back to him, and he rested his face in his hands, crying at his behavior. He had let down Aly, his son, and you.
He did care about you, he did love you in his own way. He just didn’t know how to show it. He didn’t want to show it. If he had shown it, he only would have betrayed Aly even more.
You went down to the crypt, somewhere you had never gone before. You had no reason originally, no people to mourn.
You stood in front of her plot, staring at the statue of her. She had been a skinny girl, with long dark hair and ‘plain’ features. You thought she was a beauty in her own way. You saw why Cregan loved her.
You cried. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.”
Your hand touched her statue, then you stood and left the crypt.
You said goodbye to Rickon, Sara, and then you left with your brother on dragon back, ready to be home with your true family.
———
“You’re a fucking fool, brother.”
“You think I don’t know that? Gods.” Cregan rested his head in his hands. He had sent every raven in Winterfell to Dragonstone, yet not one had responded in the weeks since you’d left.
“We’ll be lucky if the bloody queen doesn’t declare war on us for you scorning her daughter.”
“I am trying here, Sara! I’ve sent my ravens, I’ve sent men to retrieve her. There is nothing more I can do!”
Sara slammed her hands on the table. “Go and get her your bloody self, Cregan. The trip to Dragonstone will give you plenty of time for reflection.”
Sara turned to leave, and Cregan knew it was his only option of getting you back here. He would go and get you and make things right. He had to.
You had your own time for reflection, riding home with Jacaerys made you realize how much you missed being on dragon back.
Your mother of course welcomed you with open arms, but was wracked with guilt that you and Cregan’s union was not working. You paid it no mind however, spending your days patrolling Dragonstone on Silverwing.
Cregan had taken his horse and a few men to retrieve you from Dragonstone. The trip by horse was long, more than several weeks.
The entire time he rode in silence he thought of you. He thought of your last conversation and the final words you had said to him. The dead don’t need lovers. And you were right. Alysanne would not have wished to see him treat you how he had, she would not have wanted Cregan to spend his time sulking or being angry. He only wished he had realized it before he left.
He loved you. If only it hadn’t taken you leaving for him to realize. You were kind, gentle, beautiful. Traits Alysanne didn’t have but it was what seperated you from her. It had been how he was able to find his own kind of love for you, even when he didn’t consciously realize it yet. His own bitterness from losing Aly had made forget his honor.
Cregan arrived about two moons after you had left. He was aching, frustrated, and desperate by the time he reached Dragonstone.
It was dark, pouring rain, and you were playing with your brothers Viserys and Aegon when he arrived.
“Your Grace!” A knight came into the room shouting. Your mother looked up from her book. “Cregan Stark of Winterfell has arrived and requests an immediate audience with you and the princess.”
Your mother looked at you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart sank and your face went pale, but you nodded.
You met him inside the council chambers with your mother and his men. He was soaked, shivering. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, that was how nervous you were.
“Cregan.” You said, walking towards him and pushing him by his arms to the hearth to warm him up. It was another thing he loved about you, your protective nature, so he said it.
“I love you.”
“Cregan…”
“Love her?” You both looked at your mother, whose face was angry. “You love my daughter?”
“Your Grace.” Cregan said, removing his sword and bending his knee. “I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”
She walked towards you both. “It is not mine you need to beg for… I sent my only daughter to you, and you spurn her for your dead wife?!”
“Mother!”
“You will not interrupt the Queen when she is speaking.” She commands you. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lord Stark?”
He stands. “I have nothing to say, Your Grace. You are right. My behavior was unacceptable. The princess deserved none of it.”
“Why are you here?” Your mother asks him.
“I’ve come to ask the princess to return home.” Your mother scoffs at him.
She looks at you, then back to him. “You are lucky it is not my decision to make.”
She turns and exits, leaving and commanding his men to wait outside the doors so you both could be alone.
You were even more nervous with just the two of you in there. It is silent for a few moments before you speak.
“Why the sudden change of heart?” You ask Cregan.
“It took you leaving for me to realize I love you.” He says, taking your hands in his. You roll your eyes, taking your hands back and stepping away.
“I can’t believe you.” You say, starting to sob.
“I know, I know.” He steps closer to you again, taking you in his arms as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“I loved you, Cregan.” You say, crying. “Since I was a girl I loved you. I thought you were different from other men. But, you’re just like the rest.”
Cregan cries into your hair. “I’m so sorry, my princess. I’m so, so sorry.”
You both stand there, holding each other and crying.
“Please come home.” He says. “Let me take you home.”
“Rickon misses his mother, Sara misses her sister… I miss you, you my wife.”
You pull away to look at him, trying to read his normally stoic features. You can see he means it.
“Okay.”
———
You returned to Winterfell on Silverwing, no longer having the strength to remain apart from your dragon.
Cregan had to endure another long and grueling trip back to Winterfell, which you enjoyed knowing he was suffering while you road through the skies.
Rickon had cried tears of joy when you returned, and a week later when Cregan arrived Rickon cried again.
You and Cregan had remained in seperated chambers while you still navigated your marriage, but Cregan made a point to spend every moment of his free time with you.
But you had been keeping a secret from him.
After you returned home to Dragonstone originally, your blood never arrived. The maester determined you were with a babe, which would arrive several moons away in the dead of winter.
Your thick furs and dresses made it easier to hide from Cregan, as you were not ready to tell him.
The babe had complicated things. If you had not been pregnant, you might not have returned to Winterfell when Cregan came for you. But you knew you had a duty, and you believed if Cregan could love you then you could fix your union.
Cregan had indeed put the work in the second he arrived home. He attended to you, conversed with you, ate with you, laughed with you, but gave you the space you needed and gave you the option to be intimate with him when you were ready.
It was strangely like falling in love all over again. You blushed around each other, got nervous and flushed, made each other’s hearts race, shared a first kiss when you were both ready.
Cregan had undoubtedly fallen madly in love with you, and he regretted not taking the time to do it sooner. He couldn’t make up the time he lost being afraid. All he could do now was love you without guilt, love you without fear, love you without shame.
Normally Cregan always knocked on your chamber doors before entering, but for some reason this time he hadn’t. He didn’t know why he didn’t knock, he didn’t know if it happened unconsciously or if he was too busy wrapped up with his thoughts.
Either way, he entered without knocking and by that point the cat was out of the bag.
He said your name, greeting you with a smile, only for it to fall off his face as if it had never been there.
You were in the bath, relaxing in the burning water, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d seen you naked, although it hadn’t been for a few months by this point, but him accidentally invading your privacy wasn’t the problem either.
It was the bump in your belly that was a problem.
Your head turned sharply, covering your chest quickly. “Cregan!”
“Sorry.” He said quickly, turning around to avoid disrespecting you.
“It’s fine.” You said, dropping your arm from your chest. “You just gave me a fright.”
He said nothing for a moment, only continuing to face the wall.
“What is that?” He finally asked. You sighed, stepping out of the tub and into your robe.
You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you now, and his eyes fell down to your other hand resting on the small bump in your stomach.
“Perhaps it’s time we talk.”
“You think?” He spits at you, immediately apologizing after. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be cross with you.”
You said nothing, walking over to the seats by the hearth hoping he would follow.
He did, and he sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your belly.
“Can I?” He asked, gesturing to your stomach. You nodded, untying your robe so that you were bare. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to the small bump.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have accommodated for you, made sure you were comfortable.”
“Truth be told it’s been hard for me to accept I’m truly with a child.” You say, “The reality had not set in until… well until you just now found out... I am sorry, Cregan. I should not have kept it from you.”
He chokes back a sob. “Feels like just yesterday Alysanne had Rickon.”
“He will be overjoyed to know he will have a little brother or sister.” You tell him. He looks at you, his face full of emotion.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks and before you can even finish nodding your head, you’re already leaning in to kiss him.
“I love you. I love you so much, my wife.” He says in between kisses.
His hand did not move once from your stomach the whole night.
#hotd cregan#cregan fanfiction#cregan x you#cregan smut#cregan x y/n#cregan stark smut#cregan x reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark#hotd#hotd season 2#team black#house stark#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon#hotd x reader#cregan hotd#hotd imagine#house of the dragon imagine#hotd smut#winter is coming#hotd fanfic
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Of Oblivious Minds
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Pining, yearning, idiots in love?? (an angsty moment as well)
a/n: What am I doing!! I don't know!! This is part one and there will be one or two more parts :) Thank you for reading ily ♡
Part 2
~~
You were having an epiphany—of that you were certain.
Sitting in the main room of the townhouse, a glass of wine spinning in your hand, many things were beginning to make sense to you. It was ridiculous that you hadn’t come to this realization before. All of the hints were right in front of you.
You leaned back in the armchair, a scrutinizing gaze pointed toward the corner of the room. You took a sip of your wine—a contemplative sip—and then ran through the facts in your head. Yes, it made perfect sense.
You wanted to kick yourself for not noticing before.
“Don’t hurt yourself thinking so hard.” Cassian’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. You blinked up at him as he took a seat on the arm of your chair. “Want to share why you’re staring a hole into the wall?”
“I was just… noticing something,” you murmured over the rim of your glass, voice low.
“And what’s that?”
You paused, pursing your lips. It would sound silly if you were wrong. But Cassian looked at you expectantly, so you simply whispered, “I think Az is in love with Elain.”
The sudden, rumbling laugh bouncing off the walls set your cheeks ablaze. The entire room halted their conversations to look at Cassian as he doubled over, holding his stomach with no signs of letting up. You stared up at him, mortified, and smacked his arm as his laughs lowered into senseless chuckles.
“Cassian, quit it. It’s not that funny—stop it or I’ll hit you again.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Sorry, that was just… that was a good one, y/n.”
“What’d she say?” Rhys asked, perking up from the other side of the fireplace.
“Nothing to warrant that reaction,” you grumbled, sinking lower into your seat.
Fighting back the vibrations in his chest, Cassian took a deep breath. “Inside joke, Rhys. You wouldn’t get it.”
Rhys huffed out an offended breath, quirking a brow at his antics. He looked to Mor and Feyre to garner some support, but they only giggled back at him.
“Maybe we would.”
Azriel’s gravelly tone only made you collapse further into the armchair. If you’d known there would be consequences to sharing your epiphany with Cassian, you would have kept your mouth shut. Cassian was usually wonderful at keeping secrets.
“Oh, brother, you’d find it funny as well, surely,” Cassian shared, heaving up from the chair. “But, alas, I have to go. No inside jokes for the room.”
“Well that’s not fair. You don’t get to cause a riot and then leave,” Mor whined, her cheeks rosy and her eyes glassy. Clearly, she had been having her own drinks throughout the night.
“Lovely. Now you want to know? Where was that attitude while you were giggling with my mate?” Rhys accused.
Feyre jumped in this time, pinching the high lord’s cheek and cooing, “Oh, you big Illyrian baby.”
The focus was no longer on you and your apparently laughable realization. Cassian’s reaction did little to deter you from the thought, however, and you were still quite resolute in your observations. Looking over at the couple in question only solidified that.
They were huddled close, Elain’s knees pressed against Azriel’s thigh as they spoke in low tones. Azriel would occasionally take a glance around the room, lingering on you as he went, but that was natural for the shadowsinger. His shadows were gone, where they went you had no idea, and his wings were held tightly behind his back.
And he stared at her—intently—as she nodded her head and answered whatever it was he had asked.
He had to be in love with her.
You were usually quite good at reading these types of things.
“I’m taking you home now,” Cassian spoke, holding out his hand. “We’ll walk.”
“What if I don’t want to go home?” you asked, taking his hand and following him despite your words.
“After all that nonsense, I think it’s clear you need a good night’s rest. Plus, you and I are in the ring bright and early tomorrow morning.”
You groaned, knocking your head back at the reminder of your obligations. It always sounded like such a good idea over breakfast. Cassian had clearly learned that you would only say yes to early morning trainings when you were half-asleep.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.”
You let him yank you to the door, your feet dragging behind you, when a warmth encased your shoulders. You recognized the material of your coat instantly and turned to see Azriel smoothing it down over your arms.
“For your walk,” Azriel quietly explained. “You left it on the back of my chair.”
“Oh!” you chirped, feeling the early licks of embarrassment barrage your chest. It’s not like he heard you talking about him, right? “Thanks, Az. I almost forgot.”
He offered you one of his soft, rare smiles. “I know. I remembered.”
He nodded over your head to Cassian after that, and you heard Cassian’s low, I got her, Az, only because you strained your ears.
You ended up being extremely grateful for Azriel’s forethought to grab your jacket. It was freezing outside. You could have winnowed home instead, but Cassian hadn’t really given you the option and no one ever let you winnow after you’d had something to drink.
You landed in Summer Court one time and suddenly everyone treated you like a hazard.
Your shoes scuffed against dark cobblestone as you walked. It was really dark, now that you looked at it. Maybe it had rained? Or a merchant had dumped their excess water?
Or maybe it was nighttime and you were a little drunk.
It was then that you noticed the silence. When Cassian walked you home, especially when Cassian was tipsy and he walked you home, he never shut up. So this was unusual. You squinted as you looked up at him, but he gave nothing away, keeping his gaze forward and his steps in steady pace with your own.
“Okay, out with it,” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest. “What was so funny earlier? And why are you walking me home all stoic?”
“I’m always stoic. Adds to my charm.”
“Liar.”
Cassian smirked, shaking his head, and then schooled his expression into one that was a touch more serious. “You really think Az likes Elain?”
You watched your breath puff out white. “Don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.”
You shot him a skeptical glance. “Well, then you’re wrong. I’m good at picking these things out. I knew Feyre was Rhys’s made before the rest of you figured it out, didn’t I?”
“It was pretty obvious, y/n,” Cassian scoffed. He took a fleeting glance down to the ground beneath your feet. “Honestly, I’d wager that you’re actually the worst at picking these things out.”
You gaped at him, bringing your coat closer to your body in a ploy to protect your damaged pride. Cassian only shook his head—again—and then flung an arm over your shoulder.
“Don’t take that the wrong way. Just…take a second look, maybe.”
“A second look at what? She was practically sitting in his lap tonight.”
“If you say so,” Cassian hummed.
“Stop being cryptic and buy me a snack on the way.”
~~
The following days were… strange to say the least.
Everywhere you went, Elain of all people was sure to follow.
And she spoke of Azriel. A lot.
Azriel did this and Az is so sweet isn’t he and oh, did I mention that…
Obviously, she was just as in love with Azriel as he was with her.
You were so, so right.
There was something off-putting about that truth, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. After a few days of hearing the younger girl rave about the shadowsinger, you chalked it up to the novelty of it all. You had known Azriel for over a century, and things were changing. Of course a serious love interest in his life would make you feel strange.
Azriel had had lovers in the past, but—now that you thought about it—you hadn’t heard him talk about another woman in months, much less seen him with one.
Well, other than Elain.
Perhaps it wasn’t healthy, nor productive, to be so caught up in Azriel’s love life. He was plenty capable of managing it on his own, and it’s not like you had that much of an interest, anyway.
You blinked, shaking your head and attempting to focus back in on the book you were reading. Elain had followed you into the library under the house, but thanks to the priestesses and their admonishing looks, she kept quiet. She flipped through her own book as you continued your research assignment from Rhys. It wasn’t very interesting, which was clearly the most plausible explanation for your mind drifting to Azriel.
Boring texts were the leading cause of nosiness.
“Do you have dinner plans?” Elain whispered after an hour of silence.
You sent her a small smile, looking up from the archaic book. “No, are you inviting me out?”
“Perhaps. I was thinking of asking Azriel.”
A suffocating sort of pressure clawed at your skin. “Oh?”
That was new.
“Yes, but I would really appreciate it if you came,” Elain continued, eyes downcast. “It could be fun.”
You bit into your bottom lip until the pain was uncomfortable. This was no different than her talking about Azriel all week. And you already figured that they liked each other—that they loved each other. You had relished in the discovery just a few nights ago.
So why did it suddenly feel so different?
“I wouldn't want to intrude,” you whispered. “I think a dinner with just the two of you would be nice. Azriel would surely agree.”
Elain shook her head. “I think he would be more inclined if he knew you were coming.”
As a buffer. She was asking you to come to displace any awkwardness that would arise on a first date. You had done it before for Cassian. You’d done it plenty of times for Mor—even making it a double date with random men you never spoke to again. But you’d never done it for Azriel.
Something about it felt… wrong.
“I could come,” you found yourself saying anyway, words tumbling out before you could catch them. “But I really do think he would love a dinner alone. I might be a bit of an outlier.”
Elain gave the closest thing to a smirk you’d seen on her face. “I somehow doubt that.”
“What does that—”
The ground was shaking. The faelights began violently flickering and the ground began shaking with even more vigor. You pressed down on the book in front of you and braced yourself as the air grew frenzied. The priestesses ran down the many stairs of the library as panic began setting into your bones. The last time something like this happened…
You shuddered at the thought.
This couldn't be an attack on Velaris.
Elain called your name. You answered with wide eyes.
“Get under the tables!”
You both dove beneath your table at the call, clutching at the legs with shaking hands. There was a commotion as books fell from shelves and lights popped, but there were no screams. No one was hurt. There was no attack.
Realization coursed through you, but it did little to quell your fear as the shaking continued.
“It’s an earthquake!” you shouted to Elain. “It’s okay, we’re going to be fine!”
Velaris hadn’t been struck by an earthquake of this magnitude in many, many years. The last one was centuries ago, and it had led to many rebuilding efforts and a handful of injuries. You hoped this wasn’t on the same scale. Or at least that Rhys’ magic was enough to abate the worst of the damages.
After another moment, the shaking ceased. You let the panic and adrenaline run its course as you caught your breath, Elain right beside you. It didn’t seem so bad now that it was over and the building had stayed intact. With a hand at your chest, you shook your head in disbelief.
“By the cauldron, that was unexpected.”
Elain let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt an earthquake before.”
You offered your own breathy laugh as you both got to your feet. “Well, you have plenty of time to get The Mother scared out of you and experience another.”
She opened her mouth to reply but was abruptly cut off as shadows materialized. Heavy footsteps rushed up stairs and it was only another beat before Azriel was upon you. Scarred hands cradled your face, turning it back and forth as hazel eyes took in every inch of your skin. Light became sparse as wings flared out behind him, shielding you from nothing.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded, voice still low despite the urgency. “Were you covered?”
“Azriel? What are you—How did you know we were down here?”
“Are you hurt?”
You attempted to reconcile the chaotic present with the very calm, very expected past. Sitting in the library with a boring relic in front of you and a new reading partner compared to an earthquake and a frazzled shadowsinger clutching at your face.
Gripping his wrists, you answered him with a slow and confused, “I’m fine.”
He closed his eyes as he let out a long breath. “Good…. good.”
When he released your face, he ran his hands along your hair. And then your shoulders and your arms. It wasn’t until he had touched most of you that he took a step back and ran a hand through his own hair. It was then that he seemed to remember Elain.
“And are you alright?” he asked, far more composed than he had been a moment ago.
“A bit overwhelmed, but I am fine as well,” she sighed out.
Azriel didn’t touch her as he nodded in relief.
“Was it as bad as the last one? Is everyone okay?” you cut in.
Azriel, who had gone back to unnecessarily looking you over, furrowed his brows. “What?”
You mirrored his expression. “The earthquake. Do you remember the last one? Was this one that bad?”
“Oh. No. Not as bad.”
“And how is everyone else?”
“I’m not sure.”
Azriel was typically short with his answers, but right now he was being particularly short. And he was never one to not have information. Ever.
“Are you okay?” you asked instead.
“I am now.”
You left the library wondering why Azriel had run to you and not Elain—why that moment felt so monumental in the face of all others.
Maybe being right wasn’t what you wanted anymore.
But maybe that wasn’t your decision to make.
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel fanfic#acotar fanfiction#azriel#a court of thorns and roses
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