#DRAGON IS FINALLY DOING SOMETHING USEFUL? MAYBE???
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cryptid-killjoy · 11 hours ago
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New Year.
They were there for New Years.
Yellow and Red was everywhere.
It was on paper lanterns that hung from strings. It was on lady's dresses of satin or silk. It was on desserts, icing, on flags, on shoes, make up faces painted for the occasion. The environment was festive. The sound of the night was joyous with different music at every street corner's turn.
Then they'd reach that river. Finally, finally, finally. They'd see it.
So, to sum up their little overnight trip they'd spend the day already doing the markets and street foods. He'd shown her some cultural performances she wouldn't be able to catch in the US too easily. Then it was time for the big boom of Chinese New Year. It was special presentation where they were going to get to watch a big dragon go down the river while watching the evening's firework and drone display. He was wearing simple clothes as Elsa noticed, but new clothes as was his tradition for New Year to start new.
It was a lot of eyes wide open shock and glittery awe. As the finale nearly took his ear drums out with firecrackers that sounded like gun shots he'd turn to her say, "This was cool. Thanks for coming to China with me. Um oh, I almost forgot."
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"Here." He handed her a red envelope. "It's lucky money for the new year for Ellie. It's tradition. We give to the kids. My parents always did it. I don't have a lot of kids to give it to now but the new Laveau babies maybe. They don't even know what money is yet. Give this to her next time you see her for me. You're as close to family as I got to give to. Better give it to her now before she grows up anymore."
It'd have 500 bucks in it. It might have seemed like a lot, but for Koda it was him trying to keep parents' traditions alive when there weren't many left of his family left to carry that on. He felt that weight. "It's to give her a good start. A lucky start. I don't know a lot kids. Something tells me she's at that age where she might not want to think of herself as one, but all the more reason she'll need it. I didn't know where to send it. I mailed a few to the rez."
Sometimes, watching someone get dressed is just as erotic and as intimate as watching them get undressed. The naked body was oneself completely raw, but getting dressed? That was who the person chose to be. They chose those clothes, whether it was at a store, or online, or even decided to keep them if it had been gifted. It was another reflection, perhaps a superficial one but one nonetheless, of who the person was.
The way that Koda’s shirt stretched around the muscles of his arm, the color brought out his eyes, the fabric made him appear even softer, more touchable. The trousers too, giving his legs a shapely appearance. Neither of them were ornate and overthetop tonight, not like they would be at the Halloween ball in their finery but - even that showed that still waters run deep.
“Yes, we should do that,” She hummed, agreeable to his plan as she pulled her hair out from beneath her shirt, letting it fall over her shoulders. After a moment, she decided to put it into a side braid so she could see everything without it getting in the way. She stood out enough, without being the blonde with the crazy hair among all of the darker tresses.
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Shoes back on. Appetites sated. Almost out of habit, she reached for his hand as they left their room again to go and explore, to see dragons, to see the start of a NewYear here, and dream of the possibilities it could bring.
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sabo-torao · 5 months ago
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THE REVOLUTIONARY ARMY PIECE IS REAL!!!!!!
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vaguely-concerned · 4 months ago
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just going about my day idly contemplating how some of the ways hawke can interact with a romanced anders are not at all unlike how they interact with leandra (and a bit of carver too, especially with a purple hawke), and then thought about my hawke in the timeline where he romances anders and was hit straight in the face with 'was he ever actually in love, or was he just desperately trying to renegotiate with his mother's ghost in any way he could' and now i need to lie down. this is the power of dragon age 2
#'you don't know my mother' haunting me through the years#dragon age#dragon age 2#hawke#On second thought let's not go to Kirkwall; it is a silly place#there are of course as many ways to do/read that relationship as there are players to interact with it haha and all valid!#but my personal version of handers is sooo fucked up and bad times for everyone involved and I love it haha.#this is a relationship neither of them should have been in and that made everything worse and everyone unhappy in the end#locked tomb levels of the horrors of love. i ship it but in the way that I want to make it sadder and more gutwrenching each time#to be clear this is a very mutual two-way kind of fucked up but I think varric in his loyalty and love would downplay hawke's side of it#for huge swathes of their relationship anders is not in a mental place to be a good partner and the emotional blackmail is Not Okay#(but it's just like how mother used to make it! hawke's soul cries sadly as it reaches for it hungrily)#which is in some ways fair enough no one could accuse him of not warning you ahead of time fjskda#but hawke is messy about it in a way only available to a covert people pleaser who has never had a millisecond of therapy#with some added stuff that my hawke is always acespec in some form and when he gets together with anders...#is the sex something he doesn't particularly care to have or not have but it 'makes anders happy'/he longs to feel wanted *and* needed#and also a way he gets out of ever being *actually* vulnerable (which I think he'd had to be with varric for example if he Went There )#'you want the hawke who's in your head so badly and I kind of wish I were that hawke too. so let's be collaborateurs with that fantasy'#(and then maybe if I do it right every time you'll finally be happy hawke says in his heart looking at this leandra-anders phantom form)#(and echoing stuff in varric's relationship to hawke but I think the important distinction there is that varric -- is a craftsman haha#he KNOWS when he's lying/making up a story he KNOWS the difference between what is and what he wishes the world was#(I think there's some deep longing there to not know; for it to blend together or have the power to change things. but he always knows)#which ironically leaves him in a better position to actually see and understand hawke the person#even as he is creating hawke the literary figure. almost to protect him in some ways? god da2 is so full of STUFF!!! I adore it)#and of course anders gets so disillusioned with hawke's inertia and lack of action (you all but married this man anders!#you should know this about him he's already carrying the whole family and city on his shoulders if you add a gram more he'll collapse!)#and hawke feels so desperately hurt that the promise anders seemed to make that he'd be enough -- that he could fix things for him --#('I'm the one bright light in kirkwall and that apparently doesn't count for shit so I'm just slowly turning to ash for you')#turned out to be untrue. anyway. sad now. imagine them meeting like twenty years on what the fuck could you even say to each other then#(I can't imagine Hawke ever physically hurting anyone he loves so he just tells Anders to leave at the end of DA2. they COULD meet again
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other-cullen-ficrecs · 1 month ago
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Unpopular opinion, I know, but perhaps if you know you won't be able to continue the series because the amount of choices is simply impossible to keep... Maybe you should just end it? 🤷
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tenojan-in-tevinter · 9 months ago
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Honestly I really want to be able to side with Solas in dreadwolf. I think it'd be super interesting to play as an elf in Tevinter and be able to just go "yeah actually I think Fen'Harel is right let's tear down that veil." I mean I assume the main conflict will be Solas trying to convince your character to join him, or your character being told they have to try and stop him, and there are not enough games that let you side with the presented "villain" character. I want to see what the world is like with no veil I'm so interested. Also so interested to see what full-on Fen'Harel Solas is like. Is he still as empathetic? Or is he more conniving and distanced from "mortals" like the old stories would have us believe?
#side note it's been a hot minute since I've played trespasser I've been obsessed with origins and anders and justice recently ok#i don't have super high hopes cause bioware sucks ass#Idk if they'll have the balls to introduce the player to that level of moral nuance#i just think it would be fun and cool to have some choices on the final outcome#*with the main villain character I should say#instead of 'player character who is awesome hero defeats evil mean bad guy'#i feel like the past games have always tried to paint a very clear target of who the 'bad guy' is#when in reality that's rarely ever so simple#i want a story that lets you decide if you actually think the bad guy is bad or not#and then lets you choose what to do about it instead of directing you to kill this one guy to save the day yknow?#and I think this would be a wonderful opportunity to explore that#and I mean we did get this is 2 if I'm honest#there's not really a singlular villain#you can choose if you think the mages or the Templars are right and side with one or the other#dragon age dreadwolf#fen'harel#solas dragon age#i just like complications in stories that make decisions very hard#make solas the players friend or something again make him seem like a person and not an evil mage entity bent on killing everyone#maybe I'm just tired of how often the writers have done moral gymnastics and tried to swap it around#to make it seem like actually the mages should all be locked away and treated like shit cause they're all egotistical maniacs#and that the Templar/mage issue is a both sides have a point thing when it is clearly not#maybe I just want them to direct us towards taking the side of the oppressed instead of the oppressors for once#Hope you enjoyed my longish rant I hide in the tags as usual
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Me, when Sebastian joins my party for the first time: Okay, this time I'm not going to forget about you, Sebastian. I'm going to make an effort to use you a lot this playthrough so I can better understand you.
Also me, immediately forgetting about Sebastian while finishing Act 2 and making it halfway through Act 3 before I finally notice his Faith quest: ......................Oh. Right. My bad.
#da2#dragon age 2#sebastian vael#listen in my defense..........i don't like bringing sebastian anywhere sksksks#okay look i seriously tried but every time i bring him somewhere i always think man i wish i had brought someone else#and also i do just forget about him! i finally added him to my party at one point and he had 24 points to spend...#that's how long i neglected him after i promised myself i was gonna use him more and then i didn't#it's not that i don't like sebastian as a character though i do tend to side eye him A LOT... it's just that i like everyone else more#even aveline like i'd take aveline over sebastian any day and that's saying something... or is it? i have a lot of feelings about aveline#whereas my feelings about sebastian could maybe fill a thimble...it doesn't help that in my canon run as a mage hawke#i romance anders and well... sebastian wants me to kill anders and my hawke is like 'do i approve of blowing up the chantry? complicated.'#'am i breaking up with anders for this? absolutely. do i still love him? mmhmmm. am i going to kill him sebby? i'd sooner set varric aflame#then sebastian threatens to bring an army to kirkwall and leaves so i can't say i have the greatest opinion on him#even the time where i did kill anders and he stayed in my party he was just... there#and then he glitched out and started t posing while asking if ed ever found out what anders wanted to do in the chantry so..... yeah#but even this playthrough where i'm playing as a lady warrior with a different personality and everything... i'd just rather use anyone els#also keep him away from bethany i do not approve sksksks she's too good for him#i want to understand and see the different angles of him like with the other companions but i've yet to convince myself to do it#also sebastian romancers out there can you like... explain? genuinely can you explain the appeal? i'm curious#because of all the love interests in da2 i look at sebastian and you'd think i'd maybe be more interested? but it's like...#i know about the chaste marriage and everything like that's fine i don't need sex to be a thing in the relationship but it feels less like#an asexual romance and more like... y'know... being with a priest and i guess that's just not one of my kinks? sksksks#i guess there's also the prince angle but i romanced alistair in dao and kept him a grey warden i don't really care about royalty power#and i don't have issues with him being a part of the chantry [well i do but yknow what i mean] since i romanced cullen in dai#and his whole deal with the chantry and magic and shit makes his romance interesting to me but sebastian is just.... a bit too much i think#i don't know i'd like to understand because i really don't but i also keep forgetting about him
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claitea · 5 months ago
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a little personal project i'm slowly chipping away at, thought it would be fun to make it into a chart that i add a doodle to every time i finish a new character so i can track how i'm going with it!
by project i just mean i want an oc of each type. i'm not making a game or anything the positions listed are purely for fun HDJBFJFKE
#clai speaks#clai's ocs#ignore the doodle of cyril though that isnt final. it was part of me Trying to come up with something for him so i just scribbled whatever#its not what i want him to look like but yhe doodle was so cute i wanted to keep it. maybe i'll turn it into a different oc idk#the laguardia siblings!!! and clear's here too ig#anyone who's been written here whether they have a design or name or not have some kind of character established already#like while i have a couple concepts for a rock trainer nothing is concrete yet so that spot remains empty for now#but even though chase doesnt even have a finalized name or position i know he's a gifted psychic who just uses his powers to do art#mago and colbur are brothers and run their gym together like tate and liza. first explicitly dual type gym!#(striaton gym not counted bc you only fight one of the triplets there)#chip and cassidy are also brother and sister#corey and kalin are cousins#mago and colbur run a berry farm and cafe. cole runs a pizza parlor. polly makes jewelry out of bug-type pkmn silk and stuff#cassidy's research centers on tm/hm development. unnamed dragon trainer is a costume designer#corey is an actor so good at her job people joke that she's being possessed by her characters. kalin is a mischievous ballet dancer#chip i'm pretty happy with. he's supposed to be like a youngster that grew up and became more experienced#he used to be shy before setting out on his journey but grew immensely from it and became champion#goes back to the first town and mentors the new trainers bc he knows how scary it is to set out on a journey for the first time#hides his champion status so that the kids aren't afraid to challenge him#i didnt want to go too detailled bc it is super late HSIBFIF I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ASLEEP LIKE THREE HOURS AGO#i just really want to share these bc these concepts have just been sitting in my notes for like a year?#over a year. i started this some time after making alto#point is i've been sitting on these ideas way too long but designing them so slowly i dont want to wait to talk about them anymore#this chart is so empty rn but i will finish it!!! one day!!!!
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radiance1 · 7 months ago
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When the Justice League heard of Phantom, they believed they had to act quickly. Based on what they were told by the GIW, a branch of the government they had no knowledge of previously (Batman is working to correct that), the ghost was dangerous and extremely powerful.
A ghost that terrorized a small town that they GIW have tried-and failed- on numerous occasions to send back to the Ghost Zone. The GIW wouldn't have come to the Justice League for help if it were just that, but based on what they have claimed Phantom has achieved an inexplicable rise in power after having met with the King of ghosts himself.
If what they say is true, then ghosts could potentially invade and cause an all-out war with humanity that the Justice League would rather much avoid thank you.
Negotiations for peace or understanding have been repeatedly rejected and the GIW has been led to believe that Phantom has done something to the Fenton couple. The leading ecto-biologists in the world, years of research suddenly wiped clean off and acting much more cordial towards the ghost.
A complete 180.
So much so that you could even claim them to have been mind controlled. Which isn't outside the realm of possibility due to ghosts having an innate ability to overshadow others and control them.
Perhaps even the entire town has fallen under Phantom's control. Even another ghost, who had just been recently opposed to Phantom, has fallen under his control.
So the Justice League had to act fast.
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Danny was fucked.
He could tell that very, very well. He still didn't have his entire new... dragon thing... under control very well, mostly sticking a half human like form. His powers were stronger yes but he couldn't really control them well.
Which is kinda why he's fucked.
Danny has never heard about the Justice League before, mostly because he had recently found out that apparently Amity Park was isolated. Like, extremely. Basically it's own little world cut off from the rest.
So when they appeared with the GIW he thought, hey, maybe they were finally changing their white suit shtick.
He didn't expect them to be extremely well-trained, have supernatural abilities or magic. Along with their usual tech well.
Yea.
Danny was fucked.
And he was very, very scared.
He's already died once but that didn't mean he wanted to die again, and he knows that he would probably be heavily experimented on if the GIW actually got their hands on him.
He was alone. He was surrounded. He was outnumbered. And he was oh, so very scared.
His family and friends had already fallen (thankfully not dead, just unconscious he thinks) and Vlad was occupied elsewhere, also fighting.
So Danny was alone.
No one would be coming to help him.
So what did he do?
He opened his mouth and did something he didn't do often. Despite that he could see that they somewhat recognized what he was about to do and tried to find cover.
Danny wasn't aiming at them.
He pulled his head back, mouth aimed at the sky.
Danny wailed.
It was waaaay more powerful than he had originally thought, so he was glad he aimed it at the sky.
As soon as it was over he felt drained, swaying on his feet and trying to use his tail to steady himself and not fall off his own claws.
They didn't know what was happening.
Danny just hoped it worked.
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Neither the Justice League nor the GIW knew why Phantom shot one of his most powerful attacks up into the sky, but they did see the opportunity it presented.
Phantom was weak. Looking like he would fall off his own feet and fall unconscious.
They had to act quickly.
But before they could, from right where Phantom had wailed into the sky.
It cracked.
And continued to crack.
Until a large hole appeared in the sky, leading into a dimension of endless green.
The Infinite Realms.
They believed Phantom was trying to retreat.
They were wrong.
Two roars came from the portal, forcing everyone to cover their ears.
Then.
Something came out of the portal.
A long, serpentine dragon flowed out, flying around the area of the crack before descending down and around Phantom.
Then.
A giant claw grabbed onto the edge of the crack. Pushing against it until it broke, forcing the hole bigger and bigger as a much, much larger dragon stepped out. Standing protectively over the serpentine dragon and Phantom.
A large crown wrapped in flame floating about its head signified its status.
The Ghost King.
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dalishious · 2 months ago
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The Sanitized Lore of Dragon Age: The Veilguard
Tevinter is the heart of slavery in Thedas. This lore has been established in every game, novel, comic, and other extended material in the Dragon Age franchise to date that so much as mentions the nation. But in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, when we are finally able to actually visit this location for the first time… this rampant slavery we’ve heard so much about is nowhere to be found. It’s talked about here and there; Neve mentions The Viper has a history of freeing slaves, as does Rook themselves if they choose the Shadow Dragon faction as their origin, for example. But walking down the streets of Minrathous, you’d never know. Because Dragon Age: The Veilguard, for all its enjoyment otherwise, has one glaring issue: It’s too clean.
The world of Thedas is full of injustices. Humans persecute elves, fear qunari, and belittle dwarves. Mages of any race are treated like caged animals in most places. The nobility is corrupt. Although, Dragon Age has not always handled these injustices well, mind you. Many, many times I’ve found myself frustrated with moments that just feel like a Racism Simulator. But what makes it worth it, is when you can actually do something about it. These injustices are things that a good-aligned character strives to fight back against, maybe even for very personal reasons. Part of the power-fantasy for many minorities is that this fight feels tangible. I cannot arrange the assassination of a corrupt politician in real life, but I sure can get Celene Valmont stabbed to death in Dragon Age: Inquisition, for example. Additionally, these fictional injustices can be used to make statements on real life parallels, like any source of media. For example, no, the Chant of Light is not real, but acting as a stand-in for Catholicism, through a media analysis lens we can explore what the Chant of Light communicates on a figurative level.
When starting Dragon Age: The Veilguard and selecting to play as an elf – this should be unsurprising to anyone who is familiar with my bias towards them – I was fully prepared to enter the streets of Minrathous and immediately get called “knife-ear” or “rabbit”. But this did not happen. I thought perhaps it was just a prologue thing, but returning to Minrathous once again, there was not a single shred of disapproval from any NPC I encountered that wasn’t a generic enemy to fight. And even the generic enemies, the Tevinter Nationalist cult of the Venatori, didn’t seem to care at all that I was a lineage they deemed inferior before now. This is a stark difference from entering the Winter Palace in Dragon Age: Inquisition and immediately getting hit with court disapproval and insults. Are we now to believe that Tevinter has somehow solved its astronomical racism and classism problems in the ten years since the past game? Or perhaps are we to believe all the characters who have demonstrated Tevinter’s systemic discriminatory views were just lying or outliers? Because it makes absolutely no sense at all for this horribly corrupt nation to not have a shred of reactivity to an elven or qunari Rook prancing around. But here were are, and not a single NPC even recognizes my character’s lineage. And because this is so different from every single past game, it feels weird.
As an elf, you have the option to make a comment about how “too many humans look down on us” in one scene early in the game. You can also talk to Bellara and Davrin, the elven companions, about concerns that people won’t trust elves after finding out about the big bad Ancient Evanuris… but this is presented as if elves don’t already face persecution. It’s all so limited in scope that it could be all too easily missed if you are not paying very close attention, and coming into the game with pre-existing lore knowledge.
All this made it easy to first assume that the developers simply over-corrected an attempt to address the Racism Simulator moments. And if that was the case, than I would at least give credit to effort; they did not find the right balance, but they at least tried. However, the sudden lack of discrimination against different lineages in Dragon Age: The Veilguard is not the only sanitized example of lore present.
In Dragon Age: Origins, Zevran Arainai is a companion who is from the Antivan Crows; a group of assassins. He discusses in detail how the Crows buy children and raise them into murder machines through all kinds of torture. The World of Thedas books also describe how the Antivan Crows work, echoing what Zevran says and expanding that of the recruitment, only a select handful of those taken by the Crows even survive. When you start Dragon Age: The Veilguard as an Antivan Crow, you immediately unlock a re-used codex entry from the past, “The Crows and Queen Madrigal”, that says the following:
“His guild has a reputation to uphold. They are ruthless, efficient, and discreet. How would they maintain such notoriety if agents routinely revealed the names of employers with something as "banal" as torture.”
Ruthless, efficient, and discreet. Torture is banal. This is what the Crows were before Dragon Age: The Veilguard decided to take them in a very different direction. The Antivan Crows in this latest game are painted as freedom fighters against the Antaam occupation of Treviso. Teia calls the Crows “patriots”. And while I can certainly believe that the Crows would have enough motivation to fight back against the Antaam, given that it is in direct opposition to their own goals, I cannot understand why they are suddenly suggested to be morally good. They are assassins. They treat their people like tools and murder for money. Even as recent as the Tevinter Nights story Eight Little Talons, it is addressed that the Antivan Crows are in it for the coin and power, with characters like Teia being outliers for wanting to change that. It makes the use of the older codex all the more confusing, as it sets the Antivan Crows up as something they are no longer portrayed as.
I personally think it would have been really interesting to explore a morally corrupt faction in comparison to say, the Shadow Dragons. Perhaps even as a protagonist, address things like the enslavement of “recruits” to make the faction at least somewhat better. (They are still assassins, after all.) Instead, we’re just supposed to ignore everything unsavory about them, I suppose…
We could discuss even further examples. Like how the Lords of Fortune pillage ruins but it’s okay, because they never sell artifacts of cultural importance, supposedly. Or how the only problem with the Templar Order in Tevinter is just the “bad apples” that work with Venatori. I could go on, but I don’t think I have to.
It is because of all this sanitization, that I cannot believe this was simply over-correction on a developmental part. Especially when there is still racism in the game, in other forms. The impression I’m left with feels far deeper than that; it feels corporate. As if a computer ran through the game’s script and got rid of anything with “too much” political substance. The strongest statements are hidden in codex entries, and I almost suspect they had to be snuck in.
Between a Racism Simulator and just ignoring anything bad whatsoever, I believe a balance is achievable; that sweet spot that actually has something to say about what it is presenting. I know it is achievable, because there are a few bright spots of this that I’ve encountered in Dragon Age: The Veilguard too. For example, some of the codex entries like I mentioned, and almost all the content with the Grey Wardens thus far. It is a shame there is not more content on this level.
Dragon Age: The Veilguard is overall still a fun game, in my opinion. But it’s hard to argue that it isn’t missing the grit of its predecessors. The sharp edges have been smoothed. The claws have been removed. The house has been baby-proofed. And for what purpose?
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cream-stew · 1 year ago
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How about monsterfcking with Neuvillette? Him in his dragon form pounding and breeding reader's pussy until his cum leaks out and when Neuvillette saw his cum leaking out he tries to push it back in using his thick fingers but it just won't stay inside, a lot of his cum wasted so he fucked Reader full again with a new batch of cum and cockwarmed him after their down<3
(What if after they have sex, Neuvillette carries Reader to the bathroom to clean both of them and Neuvillette still inside of Reader but ended up fucking when Neuvillette and Reader are inside of the bathtub)
Sorry if my grammar is wrong! English is my third language hehe and I'm still learning
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🔞minors dni
warnings: afab reader, breeding, creampie, multiple orgasms, squirting, tummy bulge, size kink, mosterfucking
// note: no worries anon I could understand perfectly <3 thank you for the request this was fun
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he's bigger than you even in his more human form, but like this, arms and legs covered in light blue scales, thick horns crowning his head, he's just. huge. straight up huge. he has you in a mating press and your face can barely reach his pecs, your legs can't even hook on his shoulders, they're ramrod straight as he grips your ankles in his big hands.
his cock is a really tight fit too... your pussy is stretched to the limit as he pounds into you, leaving you gaping each time he pulls out before slamming back inside with full force. now you can really understand why he decided to fuck you on the floor this time, putting down soft blankets and pillows so that you'd still be comfortable, but simply refusing to do it on the bed: he would have destroyed it in minutes, his strength and stamina in his half dragon form is insane!
when he finally cums inside you, when you're well on your way to a fourth orgasm, you think maybe he'll calm down a little but nope... he just changes tactics, never pulling out completely again, bc he doesn't want his cum to leak out of you :(
he keeps fucking you with really shallow thrusts, just as fast as he did previously, praising and encouraging you to just hold on for "a little longer" bc he needs to cum again, to claim you fully and stuff your cute little pussy to the brim :(
your eyes are tearing up a lil by then, but it feels so good that you can't find it in you to complain... so you let him pump you full one, twice more, until you hear him grumble and mutter something under his breath, until his huge fingers replace his monstrous cock, trying to fuck the cum back inside you. "what a waste" he complains. in his lustful haze he doesn't understand that your pussy is way too small to hold on to all that cum, so the only solution he can find is to fuck you again...
except this time, after pounding into you so so roughly, making you squirt on his cock for who knows how many times, he doesn't pull out after cumming... he just makes you cockwarm him, thinking that there's no way it'll leak out if he keeps your pussy sealed off like that!
it's hours before he allows you to move, but he still doesn't let you go, carrying you to the bathroom with his rock hard cock still buried snugly against your cervix, an evident bulge in your tummy. he summons enough warm water to fill the tub before lowering the both of you inside, effectively making you straddle his hips as the new position allows his cock to reach even deeper inside your womb.
it'd be relaxing, the warm water soothing your sore muscles, if he didn't grab you by the hips to move you back and forth on his cock :/ he uses you like a fleshlight, bouncing you up and down and jerking off inside your pussy as you desperately clutch to his shoulders, moaning and babbling, and when he doesn't stop even after cumming one more time inside, you just accept that you're going to fall asleep in his arms, and he's probably going to keep fucking you through it until you wake up in the morning🥺🥺
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fabled-fiction · 7 months ago
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Cregan Stark x Targaryen daughter of Rhaenyra
I don’t have a deep plot but I do have an idea. What if reader takes the place of Jace and flies to encourage Cregan like in the recent episode and he’s mesmerized by her beauty? 👀 Something along those lines — feel free to add or change it! ☺️ Thanks!
Snowflakes, Stolen Looks, and Beating Hearts
(Cregan Stark x Strong!Reader)
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Summary: When you are sent with your brother Jacaerys to meet up with the Lord in the North, Cregan Stark, some feeling being to make the both of you light headed and forget just exactly what duty calls from the both of you. 
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: MAYBE POSSIBLE SPOILER ISH FOR EP 1. Yearning, possible OOC for Cregan (love does things to a man can you blame him??), Use of (Y/N)
A/N: This took…too long to write. I wanted to make this a yearning lovesick-y fic of Cregan that I have been DYING for and kept mulling over all the details. BUT ALAS it is here, I hope it filled your request and you all enjoy!!
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You never thought that you would see snow.
You always wished to see it, having heard of its beauty. Ice falling from the sky in beautifully small flakes that seemed to be sewn together by the gods.
Looking at the palm of your hand, you smiled as you studied the pattern of the snowflake. Its exquisite beauty only lasting mere seconds as it began to melt into the valleys of your skin. A small frown made its way in place of your smile as you temporarily mourned the flake, before you wiped your hand on your cloak.
To think this place was blanketed in such beauty for the entire year.
Just ahead, Jace took a glance over his shoulder as he stared at the spectacle that was you. You stood next to your dragon, still as ever letting the snow collect on your hair and shoulders. You looked statue-esque as you continued to catch snowflakes, admiring them before they met their inevitable fate. Lost in your own world as you took a moment to forget about everything that had been plaguing you for the past few months.
He wished he could do the same, even for just a moment. Arriving at Winterfell, had him feeling on edge. For his whole life Jacaerys had protected you, feeling it was his duty to make sure nothing ever hurt you. The both of you, him being the first son of Queen Rhaenyra and you the first and only daughter, had grown up to know the true meaning of duty. This alone had bonded the two of you practically to the hip, it did not matter that you were older than him.
Looking back at you, he smiled as he saw how much snow had collected on your hair…people could mistake you for a “true” Targaryen…
That alone reminded him of the reason they were there.
“(Y/N)...c’mon we mustn't be even more late than we already are to meet with Lord Stark. Nightfall will be upon us yet…”
He watched as you finally looked up from the palm of your hand and sighed. Shaking the snow off of your head and shoulders, you rushed to meet his pace.
“I must say, I quite like this cold. It's much better than the humidity we face on Dragonstone.”
This earned a chuckle from Jacaerys. “Is that what you think of now? Not what to say to Lord Stark? What words to sew together to ensure he is our ally?”
“I do not need to take such action. Diplomacy comes easy to me. Besides, the Starks are known to be loyal to a fault.”
That much was true. Jace wasn’t entirely sure why he felt such anxiety with this meeting. It could have been that the simple act of ensuring allyship meant that war was truly upon your house. Or perhaps it could have simply just been that he did not wish to look a fool aside you as you expertly made your way through conversation with Lord Stark despite this being your first meeting. Since the both of you were small you had a knack for persuading people with your words. The Silver Tongued Dragon, you had been known as not long after this talent was found out.
Yes, he had nothing to fear. This would all go smoothly.
“Lord Stark, Prince Jacaeyrs Velaryon and Princess (Y/N) Velaryon of House Velaryon have arrived.”
Cregan nodded to the squire, straightening his cloak as he strapped Ice to his back.
This meeting in particular was one he was not too entirely worried about. House Stark had bent the knee to King Visery’s when he named his daughter as heir to the iron throne. This matter had been in the back of Cregan’s mind, with many more pressing matters being his top priority. He supposed that is why he often did not make the best first impressions, as his priorities were not that of the common list that many found themselves concerned with. He did not take an immediate interest in the pursuit of heirs or of ensuring that the house had a formidable reputation. Duty was his priority.
This meeting was a matter of formality to him. To ensure that he would stand behind Queen Rhanerya and support her in whatever way he could, without crippling the defenses on the Wall.
His hands reached back to tie his hair halfway up, his eyes focusing on the black ice of the steps. As his fingers struggled to snap the band around, he finally looked up to meet the faces of the two young dragons.
When his eyes met yours, everything seemed to stop.
It was as if the snows knew to freeze this moment over, so he could have the chance to meet your eye.
Cregan Stark had heard of the beauty of the old Valyria. He listened to the stories men shared of the silver haired house that brought out the darkest of temptations of man. How their men and women held a grace about them that had wives and husbands lust for just the touch of their hand on theirs.
As he looked at you, he felt that those stories were watered down backswill of a drunkard. There was not a word within the all known language of the Seven Kingdoms that could describe what he felt in this moment as he had the fortune to lay his eye upon you. He felt his grip on the banister tighten as he took in the sight of you. You, who looked up at him with the most mesmerizing beautiful eyes that only looked at him. 
It wasn't until he saw the rise and fall of your own chest did he remember to breathe.
“Lord Stark, It's an honor to make your acquaintance.”
Looking over at your brother, Cregan cleared his throat as he made his way down the stairs to properly shake his hand.
“The honor is all mine, to host the both of you here. My apologies for the weather, but it is the North.”
His accent stuck out to you. On Dragonstone and even throughout the Keep, when you had stayed there once upon a time, people often shrouded themselves in uppity falsehoods. Either to seem as if they were meant to truly walk amongst you, or to be someone entirely different from whence they came. It was part of the reason why you were so glad to have fled to Dragonstone, there were not as many falsehoods there.
So to see Cregan Stark have no fear in brandishing his weaponry, and speak to you in the laced tongue of the North was refreshing. You were drawn to the way he felt as if the niceties of royalty were second thought. As if the both of you could afford to toss aside pleasantries. It made you smile.
There was something else to be said about the Northerner. Just the way he stood before the both of you alone was enough action to intrigue you.
“Lady Velaryon, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
When his hand enveloped yours, you felt your breath catch in your throat. His eyes did not leave yours, as he lifted your knuckles to his lips.
“I wish it under other circumstances, Lord Stark.”
Giving him a small smile, the two of you stood there eye in eye. He had yet to let go of your hand as the two of you held each other there. When you stood this close to him you were able to get a better look at the man they had named Wolf of the North. Cregan Stark stood before you, dressed in fur and leather, bowing as he held your hand. You couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter as he held your eye. A flurry of grey and blue looked at you, purely you, and you couldn't help but feel as if that's all he wanted to do. Just as you stood there now, feeling consumed by the eye of the storm and wanting nothing more but to throw yourself to the whims of the winds.
“Lord Stark, Is there somewhere more private we could discuss?”
Feeling the hot stare of Jacaerys gaze on you, you regrettably took your hand from Cregan’s grasp. The imprint of his warmth on your skin remained, even through the leather, making you bring your hand to your chest as you bowed your head to him quickly.
Clearing his throat, Cregan looked at Jacaerys with a nod before motioning to the large metal lift.
“ ‘Course, let us talk atop the Wall.”
Jacaery’s held your eye for a moment as the both of you followed the Wolf. His eyes held a question within them as the two of you silently spoke. He had watched that whole scene unfold, having been a bystander to the tension that grew with every second that Cregan held your gaze. You simply rolled your eyes as you shoved him before following the Northerner into the metal cage.
Closing your eyes, you froze for a moment to feel the northern winds run through your hair and cloak. Snowflakes found themselves resting on you again, drawn to the warmth that ran through your Targaryen blood. As the lift brought you higher and higher into the sky, level with where you flew your dragon, it almost felt as if the air in your lungs crystallized.
“So tell me Lord Stark, What is this that falls from the sky and shivers my bones? Is it not still summer throughout the isles of the Seven Kingdoms?”
Cregan was so lost in his jealousy of the snowflakes that rested upon your skin that he almost didn't hear you speak. It wasn't until you had opened your eyes and looked at him through your lashes did he realize you had addressed him.
“This is only a late summer snow, my princess. In the true winter it will cover all you see, any memories you hold of warmth will be forgotten.”
“Sounds..hauntingly beautiful. Whilst this is my first time seeing snow it is my understanding that this is not the first time our ancestors have met here to treat? If I am correct it was the…Conqueror and the King in the North?” 
Jacaerys felt a relief fall over his shoulders as he heard you expertly laced the matter at hand into conversation. His eyes landed on Cregan as he watched the man hang onto every word you spoke. Not once had he looked at Jacaerys after the three of you stepped into the lift. His eyes never left you even before you spoke. He would like to think that it was because of the presence and attention you demanded. He had seen it many a time before, people could not look away from you whenever you entered a room, and their fates were often sealed after you had started to speak.
But, something else lay within his gaze. Jacaerys had seen that look before. The look of total awe and devotion to the other.
It was the same exact look he gave Baela.
“Surely the great Torrhen Stark would have sooner died than bent the knee. Unless of course he believed the Conqueror could bring unity to the Seven Kingdoms?” 
Cregan looked over to Jacaerys with a sigh. This meeting was meant for diplomacy, he had to remind himself of this as he looked to the Prince. He felt a crease grow within his brow as the three of you walked throughout the icy walkways of the top of the wall.
When your hand reached to hold his arm, he felt a fire light in his chest at your touch alone. It was as if you took all his pain and worry, forbidding it from plaguing him. When he took the opportunity to look over at you, he felt the ice in his veins thaw. 
“What my brother is getting at, Lord Stark, is that there is a threat upon the unity to the Seven Kingdoms. One that would tear the realm apart if the men and women who swore an oath to our grandfather do not remember who the rightful heir is. You understand our concerns do you not?”
“Starks do not forget their oaths, my princess…”
Looking at your hand placed on the crook of his elbow, he swallowed as he rested his hand atop yours.
“Can we depend on your men if the time comes that the Hightowers declare war upon our mother’s claim to the throne?”
Looking at Jacaerys, Cregan swallowed. He should not have felt torn, but he did. He needed his men here, to defend the wall from that which dared to plague Westeros. There were forces that lay in wait, that threatened the sanctity of not only the North but the South as well. He did not wish for his duty to falter in this dire time of need. But he had seen the worry in your eye. He knew that you were dependent on the power of the North if your mother’s throne, if you family was meant to remain the next in line. Another part of him wanted to promise whatever he could, whatever you needed just at the drop of the word.
“You must understand my hesitation, my Prince. Whilst I wish for nothing more than to offer you the whole of which the North has to offer, I must keep my army here to defend the Wall. Do you think my ancestors built a seven hundred foot wall to keep out snow and savages?”
As the three of you approached a divet within the wall, all of a sudden a very overwhelming dread filled your stomach. Looking over the edge, you saw nothing but a vast forest, covered in snow. But for some reason, the dragon within you faltered. Every sense you had was screaming at you to back away from the ledge that you took further steps towards. 
“What does it keep out?” Jace asked, as he felt his heart fall in his chest at the sight of you taking a closer step to the edge of the Wall.
“Death.”
You took a moment to look over your shoulder at Cregan once hearing the declaration. You had heard stories about the meeting place that took place here. How when King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne stood in your very spot, their dragons refused to cross the threshold. It made your stomach drop just at the idea of there being something more beyond the wall. That was a thought for another time however.
Both Jace and Cregan watched as you stood still as a statue once more, looking over the land of the North.
“I understand your hesitation to pull your men from the Wall, Lord Stark. It is quite the responsibility you have here,” Taking a step back, you swallowed as you smoothed your hair back. Jace offered you a hand to steady yourself as you took a few steps back from the edge.
“All we ask is that you provide whatever you can when the time comes. In return I personally can promise you’ll have mine when needed.”
Cregan sighed as he looked between the Wall and you. That alone had just sealed his fate, that he truely would give you whatever you needed, especially now knowing that you felt a duty to protect what was his as well. He could see it in your eyes when you looked over that edge. You believe his tales of things that lurked in the dark, just as he believed you when it came to the vile words of treachery.
The both of you would need the other soon enough yet.
“I can offer you thousands of greybeards. They have seen far too many winters, having grown a distaste for the cold. Their skills are well honed, and they can be ready to fight at a moment's notice. They will fight hard for you, like Northerners.”
There was a visible tension that dropped from the both of your and Jace’s shoulders after his words. Your brother rested his hand on your shoulder as you clasped your hands together in front of you. Jace then reached forward to shake Cregan’s hand with both of his.
“Thank you Lord Stark. Your promises will not be forgotten.”
Finding your way beside the both of them, you clapped your hand on both their shoulders with a beaming smile.
“Lets celebrate shall we?”
-
He couldn't take his eyes off you.
You sat across the table, the warmth of the candle light that lit up the meeting hall suiting itself well on your cheeks. You had settled in well at the opposite head of the table, chatting with other Northern women. You were content, from as well as he could tell.
His eyes hadn’t left you since the minute you found yourself in his halls, drinking his wine and eating his food. There was something that stirred in the pits of his stomach as he…provided for you. In the ways of war and also in the niceties of comfort. You had taken well to both, and he planned to bathe in your presence for as long as he could before you took your inevitable departure.
After that he wasn’t sure he would see you again ever.
While he should have been fine with that, as he had told himself a multitude of times that courting and the ways of society were well beyond his interests, something made him sick at the idea of letting you just slip away because of some silly notions he had been telling himself. You had bewitched him at first glance, and as he had taken in more of your presence throughout the day he could rightfully say that you had taken up a space in his mind if not in its entirety. 
His hand gripped his chin tighter at these thoughts alone.
“Lord Stark…” 
Shaking his head, he looked over to see your brother standing beside him.
“My prince, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Jace motioned to the chair besides Cregan, sitting down as the Lord motioned him. Taking one last look at you, as you laughed aloud at whatever the person holding your attention had said, he figured he could spare a moment of his attention being somewhere else.
“I just wanted to come by and thank you once again for pledging your support. I know it was not your responsibility to ease my anxieties but you did anyway, and I am grateful for it.”
He gave a curt smile to the prince, turning his body to face him to ensure that he was indeed involved in whatever conversation Jacaerys had meant to begin. However that could not be further from the truth as his mind began to wander.
“A Stark never forgets their oath. I would not be the man I am today had I intended to ever break it. “
“I figured as much. My sister said quite the same thing when we arrived, she being the more faithful one.”
Cregan smiled at the comment, taking another look over to you. You were alone in thought now, whoever you were speaking with having taken your attention for granted no doubt and departing to enjoy the festivities that were about. You were looking out the window, taking in the snow of the North like you had been earlier that day.
“She the smarter of the two of you hmm?” He quipped, smirking as he watched Jace chuckle to himself.
“She is the smartest out of all my siblings I would say. (Y/N) has always been a good judge of character, I don’t think I have ever seen her put her trust into someone who didn’t deserve it.”
His heart jumped at the words Jace bestowed upon him. Somehow knowing that you trusted him, that he was one of the few that could claim to have earned your admiration even within just a few words made him feel stronger in a sense. Is this what men talked about, when they said that the affection of a woman made them feel as if they could move the hills? If this is how he felt just at the mention of your trusting him, he couldn’t help but ponder on how he would feel from being the object of your affections.
“I think that might be one of the main reasons why she hasn’t been courted.”
Cregan froze, feeling himself look over at you once again. For some reason the thought did not run through his mind that your hand could have already been called for. It stirred something in him, knowing that your name was still Velaryon.
Your seat was empty when Cregan looked over again. He saw your silhouette turn the corner quickly, vanishing in a flurry of red and black.
“Enjoy the rest of the meal my prince.” Cregan laid his hand on Jace’s shoulder before making his exit in the same direction that you had.
Jace smiled to himself as he watched the man quickly follow your footsteps with haste, his cloak making a rather dramatic arch at the turn.
There you stood, looking into the sky. You looked as if you were infatuated by the moon herself, lit up only by her beam as snowflakes flitted around you. If it was possible for you to look anymore ethereal Cregan would become devote. You were cast in a halo of moonlight, so entranced that it almost made him guilty for interrupting such an intimate moment.
Looking over your shoulder, he swallowed whatever nerves he was feeling so he could actually have the opportunity to talk with you. But then you smiled at him, and he felt himself grow weak. Part of him wanted to fight against this foreign feeling, the other wanted to bask in it.
“Lord Stark, I hope my leaving didn’t come off as rude. I wanted to enjoy the cold for just a little longer.”
“Not at all. I’m glad you have taken such an interest in what others would consider harsh.”
This got a small hum from you as you held your gloved hand out. “How one could consider this harsh is beyond me.”
Cregan chuckled to himself as he came to stand next to you, watching as you studied the snowflake in your palm.
“Winter is not often kind. The cold and ice have a tendency to turn those away, since it takes so much and gives so little.”
“Fire does the same, yet people hold it in such a high regard. People should do the same with snow.”
Cregan hung onto every word you said, taking this private moment deep within. Hearing you speak so poetically, especially when the topic was anything other than the purpose of which you came. To get a glimpse into who you were, to know the person that was you made him think of a million other questions to ask just to fill out every step it took to understanding you.
He watched you closely as you brought your hand down, and held your arms when you looked up. The cloak you had dawned earlier was nowhere in sight, and if he could recall it had been left behind on your chair in the haste of leaving the room. Cregan was quick to remove his own fur lined cloak, and drape it across your shoulders. It swallowed you, enveloping you in the lingering warmth that was him.
“Thank you, you did not have to.”
“What type of a host would I be if I let you freeze?”
You laughed at his comment, a full laugh, and placed your hand on his bicep. It was still cold, from catching snowflakes, but it warmed him none the less.
“Plus, it looks better on you. The North suits you.”
A flash of blush rested on your cheeks at the comment, and made you tighten the grip on his cloak.
“Thank you, Lord Stark. I do have to say of all the places I’ve been I think I have enjoyed my time here the most.”
With a nod, he clasped his hands behind his back before leaning a little closer to whisper to you.
“Well I hope then that the next time you are here I can show you all that Winterfell has to offer..that is if there is a next time?”
You both had turned to face each other now, your hand still holding his arm as you looked up and only him now. He looked at you the same way the moon did, and you basked in the warmth of him in the same way.
Reaching forward, his hand came to hold a bit of your bang before wiping the snow from it and tucking it behind your ear. His hand came to rest on your cheek, holding the side of your face as the both of you were able to finally really look at each other without the wandering eye of anyone else.
He took his time committing your face to memory, just in case this was truly the last time he would see you. Cregan wanted to make sure his dreams were able to replicate the image of you.
You stood there, doing the same. You were surrounded by him entirely, in scent and sight. This entire afternoon when he wasn’t looking at you, you were looking at him. You could feel this back and forth game of cat and mouse that had played out, but there was a nagging reminder of everything that lead to this meeting and everything that waited after it.
Perhaps you could take this night to bask in something that wasn’t duty.
“I could entertain the thought, only if you could make the trip worthwhile.”
This earned a laugh from the northerner as he looked at you, and his thumb ran under your eye. The feeling off his touch had you feeling drunk off his attention. Oh you were absolutely certain if anyone had seen the two of you in this exact moment there would be many an accusation.
“Oh? And how exactly would I do that my princess?” He mused, looking at you tenderly
Reaching to hold the wrist of the hand that held you, you stroked his wrist and hummed.
“Give me a reason to come back, Cregan Stark. A reason that isn't just snow, or the cold. Something that is more than the North. More than duty.”
He stood there, just staring back into your eyes as he thought of the declaration. To give you a true and proper reason to ride all the way back here, where he was nothing but duty and sacrifice. To give you a part of him that was something else completely. You asked this of him as if it was the easiest thing he could sacrifice in order to see you again.
It should have been a hard request to fill. A question that should have left him tormented when giving the answer.
But somehow his answer was sealed the minute you stepped into view.
“Me…Come back for me.”
In the silent moment between the two of you, all that could be heard was the howl of the wind and the beating of your hearts as they became forever joined with just a touch.
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danielnelsen · 1 year ago
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WAIT THE SANDY HOWLER IS LEVEL 20 LMAO NO WONDER I COULDNT KILL IT
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entitled-fangirl · 5 months ago
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Flames in snow.
Cregan Stark x Velaryon!reader
Summary: the reader and Jace go to Winterfell to gain the support of the North. Cregan is not the same little boy they met all those years ago. But his son is quite similar to his father: his hair, his eyes, his love for the reader.
A/n: based on an ask! also... part 2 in the future?
Masterlist
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..................................................
"Prince, Princess," Cregan acknowledged as the Valeryon siblings entered the Hall. 
Jace grinned, his sister trailing behind him.
Cregan had not seen the family in what felt like eons, when they were small children. Now, they were adults. 
Though life had been cruel to them, it did not show. 
"Lord Stark," Jace said in a cheery notion. "I thank you for your hospitality. We are most grateful that you have housed our dragons."
Cregan nodded, stepping to them. "The honor is mine. It is not often that the future of the realm steps through Winterfell's threshold."
Cregan didn't miss the way the young woman's brow quirked up at his choice of words.
"We come in the name of Queen Rhaenyra," Jace clarified, not bothering with small talk again. "The rightful heir to the Iron Throne."
Cregan looked confused, and Y/n finally spoke up. 
"Prince Aegon Targaryen II has usurped our mother's throne."
"And you are asking me if I will help fight your war, Princess?" Cregan quirked. 
She nodded.
"Let us not discuss such heavy matters while the dragon riders remain weary. Rest, and we will discuss further on the morrow."
The Princess walked the long halls of Winterfell, exploring it herself as the sun began to set. 
She paused her steps when she heard a small cry.
Though she was no mother, instinct kicked in, and she began to locate where it was coming from.
And she found it.
On the floor of the corridor was a young boy, not older than four. He sat and cried, the smallest bit of blood running from his knee.
She moved to him, lowering herself to the ground, "Let me see."
The boy looked up with puffy eyes, letting the woman help. 
A servant rounded the corner, her eyes widening at the sight, "Princess, please… allow me-"
"-That is quite alright. I have it handled." She declined politely. She turned back to the boy, "And what is your name?"
The boy sniffled, "R…Rickon."
Rickon. 
She'd heard that name before.
In her studies from childhood. 
Rickon Stark, the past Lord of Winterfell.
This was Cregan's son.
She let out a breath, "Oh… that's… that's a lovely name. My name is Y/n."
She helped the boy stand and the two walked slowly to the boy's chambers.
"Am I going to lose my leg?" He asked with a sniffle.
"Heavens, no. It takes much worse to best a Stark. Do you believe a mere scrape would take down your father?"
He shook his head, "Papa is strong." He gained a sudden enthusiasm, "One time, he fought a wolf! And… and he took his sword," he mimicked the motion, "and he drove it through its heart!" He looked back up to her. "Have you ever done that?"
She shook her head, "I can't say I have. I don't have a sword."
"Oh, yeah." He said glumly. "You're a girl."
She tilted her head, "Well… I may not have a sword, but I have my own weapon." She paused dramatically, "I have a dragon!"
The boy's eyes lit up, "A dragon?! Papa does not have a dragon."
"Only children with dragon blood get a dragon. You, young Stark, have wolf blood in you. That's something of importance as well."
Finally at his chambers, he slumped in one of the chairs, "But it's not like a dragon."
"No," she countered. "But if everyone had the same blood, what would make each of us special?" She grinned as she kneeled in front of his chair. "You know, dragon blood gets quite cold up here. Do you get cold, Little Lord Stark?"
He frowned and shook his head. 
"Exactly. Wolf blood does not get as chilled."
"Is your dragon here?"
She nodded.
"Can I meet him?"
"Her, sweet boy. Silverwing is a girl."
"Can I meet her?"
She tilted her head, "Maybe before I leave. Until then, let me clean you up and put you to bed."
So caught up in the conversation, he had forgotten his little scrape entirely.
"Might I be curious enough to ask why the Princess is roaming the castle at so late of an hour?" Came a voice.
She jumped, turning to see Lord Stark standing with a small grin on his face. "Pardon me. It's not my place to wander."
"It's quite alright. My home is yours for as long as you'll have it."
She nodded, unsure of what to say to the man.
"You've grown," he finally said.
A soft giggle escaped her throat. "We are not children anymore, my lord. I'm afraid we'll never be."
"Aye. But I dare say that is not a bad thing." He tried to hide the way his eyes flit over her frame. His body naturally stepped towards her.
"I… I was quite saddened to hear of the loss of your wife."
Cregan nodded, taking another step. "I know. You wrote me. Remember?"
A warm smile came across her face. "I'm starting to. I do not remember what I said-"
"- 'May there be warmth in the cold, and flames in snow. May you be bundled in comfort anywhere you go. If not, I will ride with my dragon high, to bring it myself when the time is nigh.' "
Her smile faltered a bit, "You remember that so clearly?"
Cregan's felt his heart jolt. "I've always remembered you clearly."
An involuntary breath left her throat. 
The two stared at one another, an obvious tension coming over them. 
"I… I shall return to my chambers," she finally whispered. 
Cregan snapped from his trance and nodded, backing away from her, "Aye. Sleep well, Princess."
"Good night."
Things seemed to repeat themselves, because she found Rickon again in that same hall as before. 
"Lord Rickon?"
Rickon's head turned and his face lit up.
Y/n sat next to him, looking at what he had to play with.
It was wooden horses, through beaten from its time in the little boy's hands, they were carefully carved. 
Someone made them with care.
"Might I play with you?" She asked nicely.
A horse was thrusted into her hand.
"Papa does not play with me. He does not want to," Rickon finally said.
"That's not true, boy," she tried to reason. "Your father is just… needed by many people."
"I need him."
She felt a pain in her chest at the boy's honesty.
She understood the feeling very well.
"One day, little lord, you will be just as needed as him, and you will understand. Until then, I'm afraid there's little to help ease the pain."
"You help."
A noise almost escaped her throat. "Yes, but… I am not here forever."
The young boy sighed. 
"I wish you could be."
The three stood around a table, trying to come to an agreement on an alliance. 
"I have troubles of the other side of the Wall to consider, my prince. I cannot afford to turn my back to it with winter approaching."
Jace sighed, "What good would guarding the Wall do if there is nothing to protect?"
"Jace," Y/n butted in, "Be reasonable."
Jace turned to her, "Sister, the queen needs an army."
"So does the Warden. He knows his people's needs better than us."
"Thank you, Princess," Cregan offers. His gaze stays on her for a second too long. "I have 2,000 graybeards at your disposal. They've seen far too many winters."
"And you'll not march with them?" Jace asked in frustration.
"I will stay until the time is right," Cregan countered. 
"Stay with Rickon, you mean?" Y/n asked softly. "You're staying behind for him, yes?"
Cregan's eyes mixed with confusion and surprise. "You…"
She flushed. "Perhaps that was too forward of me, my lord. Forgive me."
"No, you…" his eyes softened, as well as his voice. "You are the one he has been discussing so gleefully?"
The confusion shifts to her, "I'm sorry?"
"Rickon, he," Cregan lets out a soft scoff. "He has been completely enamored with someone. I didn't know who it was, I assumed a servant."
Jace turns to her, "What is he speaking of?"
"I have indeed interacted with the boy, but it has not been that life changing for him surely-"
"-My Princess, Rickon speaks of no one but you."
Rickon ran through the doors, going straight to Cregan.
Cregan abandoned the table to catch his son, raising him up in the air, "Good morning, my boy."
Rickon giggled and squirmed in his father's hold.
Cregan let him down and ruffled his hair, "Go on, Rickon. Your papa has business he must discuss."
"You will not play with me?" Rickon pouted.
The tough lord of Winterfell let out a soft breath. "Forgive me, son. Not this morning."
Rickon's eyes flit to her, and they brighten, "Will you play with me?"
"Son, that is the princess you speak to. She has little time for such things."
"No, my lord," she interrupted. "I'd… I'd quite like the change of scenery. This talk to war is getting to my head. Perhaps chats of horses will be better."
Rickon's eyes light up, and he quickly grabs her hand and drags her from the room to play.
Jace is left in bewilderment. "I had no idea."
"Neither did I."
A few hours later, Cregan came to collect the two.
He found them in the courtyard. 
"Rickon!" He called out.
The boy's head shot up and he gathered his things and ran to his father. 
Cregan ran a hand through Rickon's hair, noting the way the princess watched the interaction from afar. "Go wash up."
Rickon went to move, then paused. 
"Can princesses live in Winterfell, Papa?"
Cregan froze. "Why do you ask, boy?"
"The princess should live here."
Cregan smiled, "You like to play with her that much?"
"She's my favorite." And with that, Rickon went into the castle.
The princess stood, seeing Rickon leave and Cregan approach. "My lord."
"Please, princess. I would prefer you call me by my name."
"Yes, my lord."
He tilted his head.
"Cregan."
He grinned at her correction, "Much better."
Her gaze moved downwards towards the object in her hand.
Cregan followed and his breath hitched. 
One of Rickon's horses. 
"He ran off before I could return it," she admitted. 
Her fingers ran over the mane of it, and Cregan felt a fire ignite within him, but he pushed it down to speak. "There is time to return it."
"You carved it."
Cregan's head tilted, "What?"
She held it up, "You carved this. Surely you did."
He reached up and took it from her, sucking in a breath with their fingers brushed. He studied the beat up toy, as if recalling a memory. "Aye. I did."
"It's beautiful work," she commented. "You've always… been gifted."
He felt his ears turn a shade of pink. "I thank you, Princess."
When silence fell over the two, Cregan continued. "When I leave Rickon, and I journey to the Wall, I whittle these little things. It gives me something to do, and in turn, gives him a reason to want me home."
"He wants you home regardless."
Something in him broke. 
"I know."
She placed her hand over his. "You're doing the right thing."
"Then why is it so damn difficult?"
She wasn't sure what to say to that.
But she didn't miss the way his fingers shook under hers, and his eyes taking her in as if something had dawned on him.
The two had avoided one another after that, only speaking when necessary. 
But it all came to a close on their last day in Winterfell.
"I have a final proposition, Prince Jacaerys."
Jace's head shot up, "Name it."
"I remain Warden, the North keeps its independence as is…"
Jace was on the edge of his seat. "And?"
Cregan smiled. "I have the princess's hand."
Y/n's shoulders stiffened from beside her brother. "W…What?"
"I want your hand, Princess."
Jace was just as confused. "You… You've not stated these intentions before."
"I understand that, but that does not mean they were not there. She would make a beautiful Lady Stark."
"Cregan," she reasoned. "I could not possibly-"
"-These are my conditions." He said it persistently.
"Cregan, this is my sister we speak of, do not-"
"-Jace. Let me speak with Lord Stark."
Jace looked between the two, then excused himself.
When the door was closed, she began to speak. "What are you doing?"
"I am being sincere, my princess. I want you as my wife."
And sincere he was. Hope shone in his eyes as he looked to her. She gave a hinted smile, "And you're sure?"
His eyes shone brightly. "I've never been more sure of something in my life. You bring a light to my boy, and you're a light to me."
"Cregan, this war-"
"-You will fight with your mother, as you wish, and return to me in Winterfell when the time is right."
She studied him for a while, making him sweat despite the constant chill of his home. 
"I'm happy to marry you, Cregan. For our houses. For your son," she paused to take a breath. "For you."
A wide smile spread across his face. "You've done me a great service."
"It is not service to me," she smiled. "It is not a duty or sacrifice. It is what I want."
"Rickon shall be overjoyed."
"I'd rather you be the overjoyed one in this moment."
Cregan grinned again and moved to her, wrapping his arms around her. His voice lowered, "Trust me, I am." He paused, "You've come through on your promise, you know."
She tilted her head to look at him, "And what is that?"
" 'Flames in snow,' " he grinned as his lips brushed against hers, "You've brought me comfort in multitudes."
......................................
A/n: I have some good ideas for part 2
Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver
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sushiyuzu · 3 months ago
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personal transport
warning: fluff + pet name — grumpy!sylus giving you a piggyback ride while you braid his hair.
dragon's heart (sylus fanfic book)
- backup acc: @blushpawss
after a long day of walking around, your feet are absolutely killing you. you try to keep up with sylus, but every step feels like you’re walking on nails. finally, you can’t take it anymore, and you let out a loud, dramatic sigh, catching his attention.
“my feet are killing me,” you groan, rubbing your legs for emphasis. “i don’t think i can walk any further.”
sylus turns his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “you should have worn better shoes,” he says, always so practical. but there’s a teasing tone in his voice, like he’s already predicting what you’re about to ask.
“well, i didn’t know we were going on an all-day trek!” you huff. “and you, with your stupid long legs, making it worse.”
he smirks but doesn’t say anything. instead, he stops walking and crouches down in front of you, looking over his shoulder. “get on.”
you blink at him, surprised. “what?”
“get on,” he repeats, still crouched. “unless you want to keep limping behind me.”
“oh my god, sylus,” you giggle, feeling both embarrassed and flustered. “you’re not serious.”
“completely serious,” he replies, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. “if you’re too stubborn to admit you can’t keep up, i’ll carry you. hop on, kitten.”
the nickname catches you off guard, and you can’t help but laugh. “kitten? really?”
“do you want the ride or not?” he asks, his voice deadpan, though the slight quirk of his lips betrays his humor.
rolling your eyes, but secretly a little excited, you step closer and carefully climb onto his back, wrapping your arms around his neck. he easily lifts you as if you weigh nothing, his strong hands gripping your legs to keep you steady.
“you’re ridiculously strong,” you mumble, resting your chin on his shoulder. “i could get used to this.”
“don’t,” he says, though there’s a trace of warmth in his tone. “you’ll start expecting it every time.”
“maybe i will,” you tease, pressing your cheek against his cool silver hair. “you’d never say no to me.”
he lets out a small chuckle—so quiet you almost miss it—but you can feel the vibration of it under your hands. “don’t get cocky, kitten.”
the walk continues, much easier now that you’re off your feet. you find yourself enjoying the feeling of being close to him, his steady footsteps making you feel secure. you bury your face in his hair, taking in the scent of him, a mix of something clean and woodsy.
“comfy?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.
“very,” you reply, settling in against him. after a moment of silence, you get a mischievous idea. “hey, sy…”
“hmm?”
“can i braid your hair while you walk?”
sylus tilts his head slightly, glancing over his shoulder. “braid my hair? while i’m carrying you?”
you nod enthusiastically, fingers already reaching for the soft strands of his silver hair. “yeah! it’ll look good, i promise.”
he lets out a long sigh but doesn’t object. “fine. but if it looks terrible, i’m shaving it off.”
you laugh softly at his empty threat, already parting his hair into sections. “don’t worry, i’m a pro.”
as you work, you can feel sylus’s steady pace beneath you, his strong back supporting you with ease. you’re surprisingly comfortable, resting your chin lightly on his shoulder as your fingers skillfully braid his hair. it’s soft and cool between your fingers, and you can’t help but enjoy the closeness of the moment, even if he’s pretending not to care.
“you know,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence, “you make a pretty good pack mule.”
sylus huffs out a quiet laugh. “you’re lucky i’m letting you get away with that.”
“aww, come on, sy. you love carrying me.”
“yeah, sure,” he replies dryly. “it’s the highlight of my day.”
you giggle as you finish the braid, tying it off at the end. “there, all done. you look amazing.”
he doesn’t say anything at first, but you notice his shoulders relax a little under your hands. “do i?”
“yup,” you say, admiring your handiwork. “stylish and practical.”
“if you say so,” sylus mutters, though there’s no missing the slight warmth in his voice. he continues walking, the cool evening air brushing past both of you. you rest your cheek against his back, enjoying the comfortable silence that settles between you. despite his gruff attitude, you can tell he doesn’t mind the braid as much as he pretends to.
“you know, i could really get used to this,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you relax against him. “being carried around, braiding your hair… it’s nice.”
“don’t get too comfortable,” he warns, though there’s no real edge to his tone. “you’re walking on your own tomorrow.”
“we’ll see about that,” you tease, tightening your hold around his neck just a little. “i think you like being my personal transport.”
“keep talking, and i might drop you,” he replies, but his hands grip your legs a little tighter, making sure you’re secure.
you laugh softly, feeling the steady rhythm of his footsteps beneath you. and despite the teasing, despite his usual grumpiness, there’s a warmth in the way he carries you, a silent comfort that only sylus could offer.
as the sun sets in the distance, casting a warm glow over the quiet streets, you smile to yourself, knowing that, no matter how much he complains, sylus wouldn’t let you down—literally or figuratively.
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creature-wizard · 6 months ago
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Continuing on the topic of connection being not a feeling, but a rather a set of circumstances in which you are engaging and participating, I think a lot of people out there just don't realize how dangerous the way many of us have been taught to think of feelings in relation to spirituality really is.
Like Zan pointed out, Evangelical Christians are taught that positive emotions are actually the Lord moving through them, rather than their own personal reactions to their experiences. Meanwhile, Evangelical church services are deliberately engineered to elicit these kinds of of feelings in people. It's pure emotional manipulation.
Similar ideas are found in New Age spirituality, where "spiritual discernment" is frequently boiled down to "does it make me feel good or not?" People are taught to evaluate politically charged information based on whether it, for lack of a better term, sparks joy. Now, determining whether or not something sparks joy is a wonderful way to decide whether you want to keep your old tea kettle, but here we're talking about information that people will base crucial personal and political choices on.
Meanwhile, New Age influencers do everything they can to make sure they're sparking joy for you. Let's take Paul White Gold Eagle, for example. His videos are constantly talking about things that sound exciting, like messages from archangels, dragons of light, and emerald transmissions. This type of baiting - joybaiting, I'll call it - is meant to hook you emotionally and make you think that this has to be true because it elicits that oooough, shiny reaction. Next thing you know, you've been joybaited into falling down the conspirituality pipeline and you believe some version of QAnon's conspiracy theories.
This kind of thinking is even dangerous in pagan circles. You find yourself thinking about a thing and noticing a lot? You feel an intense pull to study it? You'll find people out there telling you that you have a spiritual connection to it, like, maybe you were part of it in a past life. And maybe you go and get a past life reading, or even undergo hypnosis. And now you, the whitest gal in the surburb with zero familial connections to any Native people, feel entitled to appropriate some form of Native spirituality because you felt fascination with it, or what you thought it was, and now you're contributing to white sage decimation and spreading around some sort of Native-flavored form of neopaganism as if it's actual Native spirituality.
Or maybe you fall in with a neopagan cult leader who uses your fascination to convince you that you knew each other in a past life, and you were led to them in this life so you could continue some important work in this life, and they pull you completely into their bullshit.
Finally, it's dangerous because it encourages stalkers. A lot of stalkers are people with incredibly powerful fixations on others. These types of beliefs get them convinced that their victims are actually their soulmates or twin flames or whathaveyou, and make them feel justified in engaging in stalking behavior.
All of this is why it's important to recognize that connection is a circumstance, not a feeling. Your feelings are utterly irrelevant to whether you are actually connected. What most people take for "feeling connected" is literally just fascination or fixation, maybe reinforced by the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. Real connection is something you cultivate and build, and it does not exist outside of your actual, physical engagement and participation.
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recycledraccoon · 9 months ago
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Minor thoughts on Oisin and how he seems primed to fuck over Adaine specifically. The flustered ping-pong balls that were a plan all along. The quoting her own words on the previous Elven Oracle back at her in regards to the storm.
I mean...imagine you're a skinny little dragonborn wizard, in a class with a cute elven girl. You don't talk to her, but one of your adventuring party members is pissing thinking that party is getting preferential treatment, so you KNOW about her. You watch from the corner of your eye or from a spot on the back of the class whenever she's actually there. Partway through the year she goes to jail, and when she comes back she and her adventuring party save the world from a dragon. (A dragon of whom your Grandmother had been fond. ((Also, coincidentally, the Vice Principal.))) One of them created a god.
(Your entire party is being groomed into rage by two of your teachers.)
You're in her class again. She is the Elven Oracle, already an accomplished adventurer. She and her friends are popular. She's very pretty. She does not know your name. She does not know who you are, just a skinny dragonborn a few seats back.
You go on your Sophomores Year Spring Break Adventure and don't bother to think about her party at all.
(You and your party are going to kill a god. Your teacher is going to ascend to godhood in their place and you and your party will have Made That Happen. You are angry and determined with each final blow you deal.)
You return from Spring Break angry and with a sore chest.
You find out the elven girl's party has resurrected a dead god and the live streamed the entire fight. They must think they're so much better than you and your party. You'll show them.
(Your friend refuses to change her faith. She cancels the paperwork. The rest of you kill her, confident she will make the right choice and join you again as a proper Champion for your new god. You help kill her. She does not get back up. You hide the body and none of you can say anything. You're so so angry.)
The world descended into darkness and you can do nothing. The sun finally breaks across the sky again right before Junior year. You and your party have made plans and are on the cusp of greatness. You've gained muscles to spare and ink on your scales in carefully selected runes, no longer just a skinny little dragonborn.
(You have a new cleric. He's not your friend. He's a haystack hick from that cult-church from Freshman year, and he's here because the god you're going to kill needs a Champion and he fits the bill, nothing more.)
The first day of school the plan starts to be put in motion. Immediately that party of kids is interfering, in your way. It rackles. You push on anyway, seething inside even as you act the part of being reasonable.
You go to a party at the houses of one of her friends. You've been practicing making spell runes on the inside of ping-pong balls. You're ready.
The pretty Elven girl in your class finally looks at you. She approaches you, gives you a drink, and chills it in your hand. She has to ask your name. You have shared certain wizarding classes with her since Freshman year, tho she was barely there. You have to tell her that.
You chat. She clearly gets flustered, calls you great, and flees back into the house. Your friend teases you for others to overhear. It's a convenient excuse to use your geometry and apply physics to miss every single shot and lay your trap. The drink isn't so perfectly chilled in your hand anymore.
(You talk to her. Play nice. She isn't smooth, but she smiled at you and maybe a part of you is vindictive in seeing her flustered. It's a shame she turned down the diamonds, as dragon madness would have been so poetic. You steal her summons to steal something from the house. She didn't know your name. Didn't remember you. You feel justified. Your anger burns cold like frostbite, like static in the air. You purposely don't wonder if that first miss was intentional or genuine.)
You see each other in class sometimes.
You plot and kill monsters the woods. You will win the battle. You will win the war.
Your parties have a standoff in the cafeteria. You play your part to diffuse the situation, your teacher has been harping on your friends to stop antagonizing the other party. You feel her mind touch yours gentle probing of intentions, her friends all around her as you lock eyes.
(The devil's honey your group gets from that bee girl all goes to your teacher. He is preparing himself to ascend to godhood, and he needs it for his prayers.)
She is searching for your intentions and feelings. You tell her only 'Sorry'. She believes you. You are not entirely sure why. She and her party will hopefully die during their Last Stand exam, and have no way to revive themselves in time, be trapped there until after elections.
Maybe she just wasn't perceptive enough to see the deception.
(You hate her and all her friends. You have had no devil's honey. She believes you. Briefly, you wonder if it was a lie at all.)
They catch you. They know. Your team goes to ground and waits out the remaining days 'til elections and the culmination of everything you've been working for.
It rains at the party, and you have no more masks. You are angry. She must never have been that good of an Oracle at all, and you take joy in mocking her with her own words from long ago.
She's nothing more than an elven girl in your class who was full of herself to remember your name.
(There is nothing left now to stop you from being as openly angry as you like.)
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