#Return of the Salt Princess

[katlimeart]

Made in 2016, 2017 + 2018

If you’ve seen this anywhere else, I posted it back on my deviantArt when it was made.

Mario girls cosplaying as characters from the Dark Parables franchise

1. Serafina - requested by roseprincessmitia

2. Druid - requested by moon-shadow-1985

3. Evil Godmother - requested by moon-shadow-1985

4. Mercy - requested by roseprincessmitia

5. Moon Goddess - requested by moon-shadow-1985

6. Odette - requested by moon-shadow-1985

7. Princess Elise - requested by moon-shadow-1985

8. Sea Goddess (Thalassa) - requested by moon-shadow-1985

9. Cyrilla Belloni - requested by moon-shadow-1985

10. Fairy Queen - requested by moon-shadow-1985

[my-desertroses]

I'm a bit sad. I have been a long time fan of the Dark Parables games that were developed by Blue Tea Games and Eipix Entertainment and released by Big Fish Games and I just found out that there probably won't be any more. The reason for this is that Blue Tea Games has been inactive since sometime in 2019, which was the year of the release of the 16th, and probably final, game in the series; Dark Parables: Portrait of the Stained Princess. So I checked Eipix Entertainment, ya know, just in case, and it turns out Eipix Entertainment was acquired by Playrix Entertainment that same year and has not released any new games on its own since so now I'm sad. On the bright side, I do have all 16 games and can play them anytime I want but I'm still sad that there probably won't be any new ones because they're so good!!!

[dangermousie]

A danmei lover's biased and incomplete het web novel rec list

@mercipourleslivres thanks for inspiring me!

When it comes to Chinese web novels, I mainly read danmei. I tend not to care too much for OP heroine with a hero who dotes on her for no reason as she fights with 14 year olds narratives, nor inner courtyard fights. BUT!!! There are some het web novels I like and so here is my biased and incomplete rec list. Most of these don't have OP heroines, and very little to none courtyard fights.

Before I start, my favorite het web novel authors are: Gong Xinwen, Mo Shu Bai, Peng Lai Ke, and Jiu Lu Fei Xiang. I have yet to read anything bad by them.

Anyway, rec list:

1000 Miles of Bright Moonlight - one of my ultimate favorites, this would make such an epic drama! A smart as hell heroine, a hero who is a monk and a warrior (but also terminally?) ill and such a vivid world and amazing secondary characters (heroine’s brother is possibly my favorite supporting character of all time) and so much angst and happy ending. This has an amazing romance but it’s not romance-centric if it makes sense - ML doesn’t appear for a while. But once he does, it’s worth it!

Accompanying the Phoenix - the one that just got adapted into The Legend of Shen Li, this is high adventure and cottage core and funny and tragic and powerful ML being putty in the hands of capable FL and just EVERYTHING.

Apocalypse Arrival - Gong Xinwen’s novels are made just for me. Her heroines are always powerful as fuck and rescue abused MLs. In this novel, our heroine who lives in the post-apocalyptic world, wakes up right before that apocalypse happens. She forms a survival crew and also rescues ML who has miraculous blood and has been drained of it and is now hunted after the rescue for it. SO GOOD!!!

Black Moonlight Holds the BE Script - so fucked up, so good, with monster hero who learns to love and be human and heroine who learns to love and be human (but from the other side, her tower of perfection.) Much better than the drama which I did enjoy.

The Blue Whisper - the drama was so-so, but the novel is a bona fide angst masterpiece, which really delves into what it feels like to be imprisoned or to love.

Counterattack of the Cannon Fodder Chambermaid - I remember starting this and loving the realistic feel and the heroine and wanting to stab the hero and @mercipourleslivres telling me to be patient. She was right, by the end I was on board with both the hero (who was abused and is rather autistic-coded) and the OTP. Anyway, heroine is a servant who was a concubine in the last life and got killed as part of a rich family’s harem intrigues. In this life, she just wants to keep her head down but her life gets derailed anyway. She gets sold away and eventually made a servant in the household of an exiled prince who takes a fancy to her and she endures it because what choice does she have? All she wanted was to serve out her term and become a small time merchant. This is quite realistic about lack of options for women, especially lower class women or upper class male attitudes (ML is never vicious or mean to FL but it does not initially occur to him to wonder if she fancies him or enjoys being his concubine or w/e.) It is a DELIGHTFUL slow burn tho as they grow to love each other and grow together and become one of the most wholesome cnovel couples out there.

Dandere General and His Lord - hi there, Gong Xinwen! God, I love this one. Heroine transmigrates from modern world into a brutal slave-holding world at war (think something like Warring States era.) Our heroine transmigrates into the body of a noblewoman who just hung herself. When she comes to, she discovers that woman’s twin brother was the ruler of a city poisoned by a rival claimant and the besieging army of said claimant is about to take the city and original occupant of the body and the rest of the family chose suicide as a way to avoid dishonor. Our heroine refuses, schemes with advisors to pass as the brother and rally the troops. Once the invaders are defeated, she keeps on the masquerade and rides off to one of the never-ending wars “she” is summoned to. Our hero couldn’t be farther from this. A slave and a son of a slave, he’s escaped a horrific, starving childhood during which he narrowly avoided being murdered or raped, and ended up in the army. When the story opens, he distinguished himself in battle and as a reward, he and a few of his fellow slave warriors are invited to a banquet, where they are given some alcohol and to be playthings of any nobles who want them. One of them does not survive this but ML is lucky - heroine feels terrible and so “claims” him for herself. Instead she just tends to his wounds and sends him back. She does not fancy him or anything, she is just a human being with a conscience. And the story goes from there.

Demon King's Repayment - another delicious Gong Xinwen tale with a powerful ML dedicated to capable FL. This one is a great fantasy plot (I keep imagining it as an animated series) and a sprawling cast of amazing secondaries (and secondary OTPs - there is, I swear, an OTP that is Dong Hua x Feng Jiu done thru GXW lens) to boot.

Doomed to Be Cannon Fodder - I hesitated to put this one on the list because by the end I was not keen on how misogynistic novel got to original female lead but it was one of my earliest novels and I loved it for 90% and it’s fucking hilarious at times. Heroine transmigrates as bit villainess into a novel, all she wants is not to die, but her new attitude of “pls stay away” catches the attention of her terrifying general husband. Honestly, imo still worth it.

Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir - my n1 novel on this list, smart and fierce and don’t really read this for romance because it does not start until really late, but ice cold heroine x ice cold hero both of equal brains and ruthlessness is everything. I went from loathing the ML to finding him fascinating to adoring him (and yet he softened around the edges only for FL, he never became “nice”) and loved FL throughout; secondaries are epic. If you read only one non-danmei web novel, make it this one.

The Emperor’s Beloved Ugly Girl - my n2 novel on this list. Our heroine is the unlucky laundry maid A’Chou. She is a di daughter of an upperclass family but her family got destroyed in one of the political upheavals of the time and A’Chou, only a small child at the time, was the only survivor and was made an enslaved laundry maid. Due to various events, at the start of the novel she is a laundry maid in a minister’s household and the minister’s beloved daughter is having a fit because she’s supposed to marry the former Crown Prince which may have been great a few years back but Crown Prince had since been deposed, tortured, imprisoned and now is living in the middle of nowhere under conditions that are too meager to be called house arrest. And he’s seriously crippled too. Understandably, the young lady doesn’t want to marry him! She’d rather kill herself and so she does. And so, a desperate plan is hatched - why don’t we pretend the laundry maid is the di daughter of the minister’s household and send her off? And so A’Chu is sent as the bride. She arrives to discover a broke, seriously injured man on the verge of death…and we go from there. This is so gorgeous and tender and slow in just the right way and like AAAAAA! Secondary OTPs (one of which is MM) are also epic.

Futu Tower - the drama (Unchained Love) was a mess but the novel is such a lovely, dark exploration of coming back to life, for the ML from his dark revenge-strewn path and for heroine from not being allowed wishes of her own. She is a tribute bride, he’s a (fake) eunuch, they are both servants who use themselves to achieve goals and find peace and happiness together.

The Grand Princess - a tale where both members of the OTP reincarnate as their younger selves after killing each other in their 50s, and get a new start, this is smart and slow and so good in portraying old souls in young bodies. Their rediscovery of not just each other but themselves and their passion for living is just AAAAAA!

Heroine Saves Gentleman - Gong Xinwen novel so we have a tough martial artist lady saving a very upper class scholar and it goes from there. If elegant gorgeous ML being saved and protected (and lovingly dommed) by awesome FL is your bag, pls come right in.

Husband Be a Gentleman - schemer meet schemer. He’s an idle prince she’s perfect daughter, in reality both are wolves out for blood. Mmmm. Very OTP gets together early and is us against the world.

I’ll Be the Male Lead’s Sister in Law - one of my all time favorite novels. Heroine is made to marry a disabled nephew of the emperor. He used to be a victorious god of war but went mad and now is basically locked away and kept as a beast. GOD I LOVE THIS NOVEL SO MUCHHHHH! So much hurt/comfort and awesome OTP and after he eventually recovers, all he wants to do is to fight and murder things and dote on wifey. MMM. He’s honestly one of my fave MLs.

I Married a Disabled Tyrant After Transmigrating - if you have a Florence Nightingale complex, this is for you. Heroine wakes up as tribute bride to an almost dead dragon lord and slowly nurses him back to life as his rivals try to murder him. They are both utter adorable babies!

Let the Villain Go - another Gong Xinwen novel, this and Apocalypse Arrivals are AUs of each other. Heroine is surviving in the apocalypse, ML is the “bugbear” of the world but in reality just reacting to all abuse and torture and after she accidentally saves him, devotes himself. Fun fun fun!

Long Wind Crossing - Amazing ML and FL who grow together, clever plot, arranged marriage to love etc etc. Oh, and one point he feeds her his blood to keep her alive, what’s not to love? (Adapted into Chang Feng Du/Destined)

Lost You Forever - this is a short but delicately wistful tale of trauma and loss and love, wrapped in a high fantasy setting but so relatable despite it.

Love In Another Life: My Gentle Tyrant - so so fucked up in the best way! ML cannot live with OR without heroine. It opens on them banging in jail night before her execution (ordered by him) with corpses of men he killed for trying to defile her cooling nearby. If you want healthy relationships with respectful boundaries, gentle and considerate male leads who are modern men in period clothes, OP heroines who have everyone help them and are OP to the max, fluff and wholesomeness, that is about the worst book for you.If you want complexity, dysfunction, darkness, pain and an absolutely lyrical even if fucked up story, come right IN!!!!I am so fucking in love with the melancholy heroine, with ruthless psycho hero and the endless regret and devotion and paaaaain!

The Marquis Is Innocent - our heroine is a beautiful woman married to a warlord who hates her family. (Yes, this was gonna be The Prisoner of Beauty until SZE tax scandal.) Except she's a transmigrator from the future who knows how it ended last time around and has no interest to end up this tragically. This is in my top 5 - FL is smart but believably so (and doesn't have super battle powers) and ML is a believable period warlord. The way their relationship develops so gradually and the way his character changes so gradually as well (and the way they slowly fall in love, her slower than him) is just amazing. It is such a smart, nuanced, gorgeous slow burn. With some gonzo sex scenes :P

Mulberry Song - you like tragic endings? Come right IN! This is short and heartbreaking and wistful and very what-if.

Nightfall (Ever Night) - so long but also so smart and unusual and bloody and tho it’s not primarily a romance, you will never see another ML who loves his FL as much as Ning Que does his Sang Sang. 

Offering Salted Fish to Master - in some ways, this novel is a mess, but I am recommending it because this is a rare example of "nope he's 100% a villain and murderdude and odd, but he does love the heroine" that the author commits to.

Pihanjin - yet another awesome PLK novel, this is once again, like with Marquis, a ruthless man and a beautiful woman getting a second chance on a second go-around. FL is a lot more wounded this time around though. If you LOVE watching ML grovel and slowly, gradually win FL over, this one is for you.

Princess Agents - a dark tale with an incredibly competent and militarily powerful/ruthless heroine and two terrifying men who love her (but neither is as terrifying as she is.) There is an OTP switch halfway through that shockingly makes sense and it's just SO SO GOOOOOOOD

Rebirth of the Malicious Empress of Military Lineage - this is probably the one “typical” novel on this list, heroine is reborn as her youngest self and gets revenge on those who wronged her last time around. It is really really well-written and heroine is competent, hero is doting and powerful etc. It’s not a trope I tend to love but I do when it’s done THIS well.

Rebirth of the Tyrant’s Pet: Regent Prince is Too Fierce: Borgias cnovel style! Our heroine was empress in last life and put her husband on the throne tho he did not love her. However, he had her executed and had his half-brother carry out the orders and heroine died horrifically. She opens her eyes and she’s a little girl again. The OTP this time around is heroine and half-brother executioner. Why do I love it? Heroine is smart and tough but also this is a rare rebirth novel where heroine does NOT decide to seek revenge for past life wrongs because they haven’t happened yet! In fact, she sees ML abused and stands up for him because he’s a kid and no kid should be mistreated and this go around he hasn’t done anything wrong. She also gets and likes her former life husband. Anyway, this is fakecest galore because she’s supposed to be their half-sister and while she knows (from past life) she is not, they do not and fall for her anyway. ML is especially gonzo, at one point carving chunks of his flesh to save her. He’s feral and unhinged and she’s the one person he worships because she protected him and like - it’s all awesome. (I love secondary ML too.)

Reborn to Love Lord Qiansui - yes, this is a eunuch novel! If you like gender tropes reversals, this one is for you. Heroine is a tough martial artist, hero is a smart as hell and powerful eunuch. A real eunuch. Heroine finds out she owes him her life and decides to protect him. This is a total delight and an awesome love story between two really scarred people. And yes, there is sex - heroine literally reads manuals on pegging :P

Return of the Swallow - so freaking long! But really good. Heroine is neither transmigrator nor reincarnator, just a smart period woman. She is a lost family daughter taken back in. Her father is a minister in a dying empire (father-daughter relationship is one of the best things in this novel), her OTP is enemy general, and the smartness and the awesomeness of this all knows no bounds.

Seven Unfortunate Lifetimes - probably the wackiest JLFX novel I read, this is quite different from Love You Seven Times drama that was adapted from it. Our deity protagonists go through a bunch of lives figuring out they fancy each other. It's light like a souffle but just as delicious.

To Be a Virtuous Wife - some people prefer 8 treasures trousseau but I never warmed up to that one. This one is so good, with smart people (who actually enjoy sex, a ratity) and a perfect mix of plot and romance.

Transmigrator Meets Reincarnator - my very first web novel. A lot lighter than a lot of the ones on this list but a total delight. Heroine transmigrates into a novel as the heroine; she has no interest in drama or chasing true love, she just wants to live a nice life with her nice husband. Too bad for her, her husband has reincarnated into his younger self and remembers how she betrayed him, so is not interested. This one is funny and light and romance doesn’t start till late on but a total delight!

Wishing You Eternal Happiness - this is tied with Dreamer as my favorite het web novel ever though it couldn’t be more different from Dreamer, with its hard-edged and hard-souled protagonists ruthlessly cleaving their way to the world and, eventually, each other, its smart cynical air. Except in one thing - the world of Wishing is just as bloody and dark. Its two protagonists are gentle, deeply wounded souls who may find salvation in each other but even something as basic as safety almost seems out of reach.

Jliafu, our heroine, is neither a modern-day transmigrator, nor some exotic princess or demoness. She is very much a period woman of her time, from a weathy merchant clan, whose beauty is her curse. You can tell the novel’s tone from that utterly bleak opening chapter where she, a favorite concubine of a capricious dying emperor, is ordered to be buried alive with him and is not even given the “grace” of white silk but slowly suffocates in the coffin, scrabbling at the lid. There is no grand threats of vengeance on her part, not dramatic opera events. Just despair and death. The whole introductory chapter is haunted by emotional ghosts - the empress’ unrequited love for the monster on the imperial bed (turning into desire for Jiafu’s suffering after he dies), the emperor slowly dying in his prime after waging too many wars, and his fear of being haunted by Pei Youan, a brilliant if sickly minister who died of illness long ago on one of imperial campaigns. There is no triumph for anyone, only loss.

When she wakes up as still a young woman, all she wants is to escape the same fate. There are no plans for power or revenge, only a desire for survival. And so she latches on asking for help from Pei Youan, the only man in her past go-around who showed any consideration and desire and ability to protect her, though he barely knew her. Pei Youan is probably my favorite het web novel ML. Despite his brains and ability, he drifts through life. In modern terms, he clearly has depression. One of the biggest, best joys of the novel is watching these two very good, very quiet, very wounded people discover happiness and love with each other. I sort of want to cry just thinking about it, tbh.

The Yandere Came During the Night - a bit of fluff that’s oddly delightful. Heroine is reborn as a (fake) sister of ML, she hurts her legs saving him and the “siblings” form a bond that ends up in fakecest delight. They are both smart and efficient and he becomes a sexy marquis etc.

[silviakundera]

Haha I also used the dickless bore. I thought that only the two main characters came back didn't know he did as well. I still don't buy him ever being into her but that's just me I do wonder if he's going to try and kill her again. I do think Li Rong is treating him too well for my liking she should at least treat hit similarly or worse than she treated ML I want to see wet paper towel non stop suffer.

on one hand, imo a SRQ who is heartless doesn't work for the story the writer is trying to share with us. On the other hand, it's totally ok to decide to be a full-time hater towards a minor character, just because it's fun. I support haters! 🎉 \o/ 🎉

One thing that I think is relevant when comparing LR's reactions: if PWX had killed her, the motive would have been as part of his mission to have his childhood love Qin Zhenzhen's son become the next emperor. (Remember, he came over to threaten her life over that right before she died and called his ex Zhenzhen lmao) THE AUDACITY. In contrast, LR is viewing her murder at SRQ's hands as part of the revenge plan for the Su family's execution.

Some passages of Li Rong's POV:

After a few moments, she whispered: “Where did the scent on you come from?”

“If I say it, you might be upset.” Pei Wenxuan’s eyes had a hint of gloating at others’ pain.

Li Rong thought for a while and frowned, “Su Rongqing?”

“Yes.”

...Li Rong said nothing. She blankly stared into the fire.

Pei Wenxuan turned the fish over and looked at her with a smile, seemingly quite happy. Li Rong found that he had a fearless, unabashed look of enjoying a good play and couldn’t help but be a little fazed.

She believed everything Pei Wenxuan said.

---

Su Rongqing was someone that she saved with her own hands.

That year, Prince Su rebelled, and Su Rongqing’s elder brother spoke up for Prince Su. Later on, he was falsely accused of colluding with Prince Su, implicating the Su clan with treason.

At that time, Li Chuan was so furious that he fainted. He put the entire Su clan in prison without going through the Joint Trial of Three Divisions first and put the men to death and the women into exile. She disagreed with this decision and rushed to beg Li Chuan before the Su clan received their sentence. After being subjected to ten planks, with Pei Wenxuan’s intervention, she was finally able to ask for amnesty for the Su clan.

Even if the death sentences can be forgone, it was impossible to escape punishment while still alive. Even though the men of the Su clan could live, they would be subjected to castration. The others couldn’t bear the humiliation, so they all committed suicide in prison. When she arrived, there was only one man “desperate for life and afraid of death” left among the men of the Su clan, Su Rongqing.

At that time, she had told Su Rongqing that she saved him without the intention of asking him to repay her. She could give him silver and a position, so that he could continue to live a good life in the future.

Back then, she didn’t have any special feelings towards Su Rongqing. It was just that he had saved her before, so after he took care of her, bit by bit, she felt grateful, and…vague sentiments towards him.

For the most part, she sought to save the Su clan for Li Chuan and her own conscience. The Su clan was a prominent, noble family. It was difficult for her to sit back and watch if they died in such an ambiguous manner.

At that time, Su Rongqing refused to go.

...It wasn’t that she had never thought that Su Rongqing would not take revenge on her. After all, it was Li Chuan who ordered all the men of the Su clan to be beheaded and exiled all the female family members. It was impossible for anyone to forget this blood feud, let alone the formerly first and most outstanding gongzi of that year?

For so many years, she had never dared to give him real authority, observing him and guarding against him while still trying to help him live a better life. She couldn’t actually kill him because of her own conscience, but she couldn’t actually trust him and give him power.

In the end, he still decided to act. He killed her first, then successfully took her authority in the name of eliminating Pei Wenxuan. If she guessed correctly, he would not leave with the advisors. Instead, he would borrow the excuse of taking revenge for her and enforcing the will of the people to join forces with the Empress, assist Li Xin in ascension, and fight to the death against the remnants of Pei Wenxuan’s faction.

...

She had anticipated this possibility from the moment she took Su Rongqing in, but she couldn’t help feeling a bit regretful when it actually happened.

[engurishu]

salt princess ufo

[catsteeth]

Turn Your Cloak

Benjicot Blackwood x reader 

+:✿ One Shot ✿:+ part 2

Summary: You’re a Velaryon/Strong princess, daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. You have unhappily left Dragonstone to travel the RiverLands on a marital tour. A marriage to untie the RiverLands with your mothers claim.  CW: MDNI, afab reader, violence, misogyny, SMUT, drunk sexual relations, fingering, biting, cum play (sorta kinda), alcohol consumption, mention of arranged marriage, proposal. A/N: your honor, I do not care if he aint bloody ben… he got me during my ovulation cycle so he’s getting a smutty one shot. 

Word Count: 6K

You swore, pleaded, and begged your mother not to send you on a marital tour. You wanted to fight for your mothers claim, for revenge, with your dragon Silverwing. A giant beast whose loyalty to you was greater than any other.

You did not wish to be paraded around the realm as if you were a ladder for a house to climb towards the crown. But you knew it was inevitable.

Your mother had no desire to betroth you to the only eligible Targaryen. Nor did Alicent have any desire to wed her trueborn son to the bastard daughter of Dragonstone. And now it was impossible, blood was shed and war was afoot.

In the gantry of Dragonstone, Silverwing stood beside you as you begrudgingly shoved your hands into the leather of your riding gloves. Her feeling your unhappiness nudged you with her snout as she often did. It used to push you to the ground but now you were used to it. You ran your hand up her snout, smiling softly as her nostrils flared and her eyes blinked slowly at you. 

Though your smile faded once you saw your mother entering the mounting dock. As she smiled somberly upon you, you looked away from her defiantly. “Must I go?” You asked, your gentle tone thinly veiled your anger.

She stepped closer to you, “I was once in your position myself. The idea of marriage itself once greatly disagreed with me.” She said with a tilt of her head, attempting to console you one last time. 

You turned to her, “Then why send me off?” you said in a huff.

With a huff in return your mother began her lecture, “The Riverlands would be an invaluable asset in this war. Deamon has already complicated our position there enough.” Her passion rose in her voice, and her eyes narrowed, “A marriage to a respected house would strengthen our support. But I do not wish to pick a suitor for you, a luxury that I was not granted.” She sighed, letting go of her anger. Understanding your position. “Marriage is partnership. Find someone who you can lean on, someone who has the humility to lean on you. As I did with your father.” She said softly.

You sighed, stepping closer to her. “No one will want me. It will be a great jest to them.” You whispered to her. 

Your mother looked upon you with confusion, “Why would you-”

“Jurnegon rȳ nyke, muña.  Nyke gīmigon iksan kostōba.  Āzma hen Perzys Ānogār. Eman jorrāelagon syt ziry, yn issa gīda naejot mirre iksan daor āzma hen lopor se embar.” “Look at me,  Mother. I know I am strong. Born of fire and blood, yes. And despite my love for it, it is clear to all I am not born of salt and sea.” You spoke in High Valyrian in an attempt to hide your words from outsiders. 

Your mother looked around paranoid that there might be ears around. She turned to you, holding your cheek in your hand, “Emā se ānogar hen uēpa Valyria isse aōha ānogar.  Iksā iā zaldrīzes kipagīros.  Dārilaros hen sīkuda Dārȳti.  Dārilaros naejot Driftmārki.  Iksā iā Targārien.  Konīr iksis daor iā lentor bona ivestragon daor.” “You have the blood of old Valyria in your veins. You are a dragon rider. Princess of the seven kingdoms. Heir to Driftmark. You are a Targaryen. There is not a house that could refuse you.” She said with hard eyes and a strong conviction in her voice. Attempting to convince you of your own importance desperately. 

You sighed, looking down. “Lī vali jaelagon nyke syt ñuha ānogar se daorun tolī.  Jaelan naejot jorrāelagon se sagon jorrāelatan.” “Those men want me for my blood and nothing more. I want to love and be loved.” You said, the sadness in you grew, and Silverwing let out a small whine as she felt it too.

Your mother looked upon you sweetly, seeing so much of herself in you. She ran her hand along the length of your hair, “Nyke nykēla iksin daor biare naejot sagon wed naejot aōha kepa.  Yn isse jēda kesā ūndegon, hēnka.  Hae nyke se aōha kepa gōntan. Se riñar kessa sagon aōha rovaja biarves.  Kesā dohaeragon aōha gaomilaksir lēda rōvēgrie rigle.  Mazverdagon bisa ojūdan syt aōha ānogar.” “I myself was not happy to be wed to your father. But in time you will find commonality. As I and your father did. And children will be your greatest happiness. You will serve your duty with great honor. Make this sacrifice for your house.” Her last words were the words of a ruler, not a mother. But you understood her position well enough.

You look towards Silverwing, who’s loving eyes look upon you. 

You thought for a moment, even if you married a man you would never be able to take you away from your dragon. And with your dragon, you’d always be free. 

You let out one last defiant huff, “What if they are all old and terrible?” You asked like a child.

Your mother sharply exhaled through her nose as she smirked at your attitude. “Fly safely, sweet girl.” She said as she kissed your brow before leaving you to fly. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As you flew over the Riverlands, you approached the large plot of land that the good Lords of Riverland picked for you to receive suitors. You could see the crowds of men like ants below you. 

Part of you wanted to command Silverwing to burn them all, the other half of you wanted to keep flying and not look back. However neither part could hold sway in this. If you wanted revenge for Luke, or Rhaenys, you would need to play your role no matter how unpleasant it may be. 

As you landed, the men attempted to remain calm and composed. However as Silverwing’s weight shook the ground, and her roar crackled through the air, the men took cautious steps backwards and tried to hold their gasps to themselves. You smirked to yourself as you dismounted.

“You are late, Princess.” Ser Lorent, a member of your mothers Queens Guard said to you.

You bit down on the finger of your leather gloves as you pulled them off, “Well then we’d ought to proceed in haste.” You said with a mischievous smile. 

“Introducing, Princess (Y/N). Trueborn daughter of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and Lord Leanor Velaryon. Heir to Driftmark, the future Lady of the tides and master of ships.” Ser Lorent announced as you sat at the makeshift throne they’d created for you. 

And so the vieding began. One Lord after another, giving you the same speech of how honorable their house is, and how loyal they have always been to your mothers inheritance. Soon your patience was running thinner, and thinner. 

It was only when an elderly man approached, and began speaking to his worth for your hand. You scoffed to yourself as he did so shamelessly, “My Princess, If chosen I will ensure your safety-”

You interrupted him, “Tell me Lord Chambers, how do you plan on protecting me when you are older than my own Grandsire?” The old man stared at you, his mouth agape as the other men began to snicker, “It is a reasonable question.” You finished. 

“My Princess,” Ser Lorent said under his breathe in annoyance, 

“I mislike old men who think themselves worthy of any woman.” You said to him quietly. 

He sighed “Next,” Ser Lorent called out in a huff.

As you saw the next plain faced boy walking towards the front of the line you turned back to the knight beside you, “Ser Lorent, I am quite tired and quite famished. As is Silverwing.” you said in a desperate attempt to finish this marital tour early. 

As you stood from your seat, Silverwing cried out and the thunder in the sky rang. Clouds gathered over the Riverlands, and the winds began to shift. However you were undeterred, paying no mind to it, you continued to walk towards Silverwing who was already laying close to the ground for you to mount her. 

Ser Lorent however came towards you, grabbing your arm gently. “A storm approaches,” Ser Lorent warned you. 

You looked upon the sky, ready to crack at any moment. But then shaking your head and then resuming your strides towards your beast. “Silverwing has seen worse.” 

“I do not think that is wise, my Princess. Silverwing has seen worse in flight but you have not. You lack the experience.” He called out over the sky’s loud rumbles. 

He spoke truly, and it frustrated you. You spun around looking towards him, “Well what would you have me do?” 

Ser Lorent looked behind him, raising his hand presenting the men that stood there, “We've the Lords of this Land here, they’d be more than honored to offer bread and milk to a Princess.” 

You were not at all thrilled by the idea of it. Though as the sky began to crack, and the water fell from the heavens above you, you’d no choice. “What of Silverwing?”

Ser Lorent was much more concerned with your own well being than that of a dragon, one that could manage fine on its own. “Leave the beast for the night-”

You shook your head, and retorted quickly, “I will not leave Silverwing. She’s mine.” You said with strong conviction. 

He huffed, growing more frustrated by your stubbornness. “My Princess, the only place with large enough land to accommodate such a beast would be the Raventree Hall.” 

“Who occupies it?” You nearly shouted over the growing rain, 

“The Blackwoods, my Princess.” Ser Lorent shouted back, loud enough for the Blackwoods to hear it. 

Lord Blackwood almost appeared out of thin air as he approached you with his seven sons. The sight made you exhausted at the idea of being under a roof with them, “We’d be most grateful if you and your dragon accept our guest right, my Princess.” You thought of it for a moment, but with no choice you nodded hesitantly, The Lord looked giddy like a child as he turned to his nephew behind him, “Benjicot give the Princess your cloak for Gods sake.” 

The lad came to you, holding a black and red cloak. He did not look you in the eye but stared at the ground as he approached you. Once he stood face to face with you, he looked down into your eyes. You felt a shiver down your spine, surely it was due to the frightful weather. He gently placed the cloak upon your shoulders before giving you a slight respectful nod, “My Princess.”

You looked at him with curious eyes, “I thank you.” You said to him, earnestly. 

“Fly your beast to the fields of RavenTree, our men will take care of you.” Lord Blackwood shouted. 

You nodded, then mounted Silverwing, “Rȳbās, dokimarvose, Silverwing! sagon gīda, rȳbagon, dohaerās, sōvēs!” “Focus, pay attention, Silverwing! Be calm, listen, obey, fly!” You shouted over the thundering rains now roaring through the skies, commanding your beast. To which she as always eagerly obeyed. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

In Raventree you sat at the head of a large dinner table with the rest of the Blackwoods. You awkwardly picked at the food that was being served to you on the finest plates they owned. All the while Lord Blackwood went on and on about their houses' histories. All that you could stand but your patience was tested when the Lord Black wood began to say… “It would of course be a great honor, the highest honor, for the Princess to consider one of our sons-”

Benjicot placed his fork down loudly, as he kept his head low looking over to his uncle, “Uncle, I am sure the Princess would rather eat.” It was as if he could tell the question offended you.

You looked at the dark haired man sitting beside you. His eyes met yours for only a moment before he looked away. You wanted to thank him, but could tell his comment only upset his uncle.

Your eyes stayed on Ben as you said, “I thank you-” Before turning your head to his uncle, “for your hospitality. And I thank you for your… proposals.” You said politely, attempting to hide your discomfort.

Lord Blackwells attention then again turning back to you smiled as he leaned forward at the other end of the table, "I once vied for your mother, the Queen Rhaenyra's hand, before she wed Ser Laenor. I always liked her spirit. She had the true blood of the dragon. Just as I see it in you.” He said with a smile, you suspected it was to be a compliment but it only made you feel dirty.

“Uncle.” Benjicot said under his breath, glaring at his uncle. You could feel the hostility emanating off of him. 

His uncle glared back at him, and rather than allow an altercation to take place you interjected. 

“Your house honors me, my Lord. I thank you, and the crown shall not forget your service. However, it has been a long day, and I spent many hours on dragon back. I should bid you all a pleasant night.” 

The Lord bowed his head, “Of course, my Princess.” He turned to a handmaiden who stood behind him holding a large bottle of their wine. “Jeyne, take the Princess (Y/N) to her chambers.” 

As you followed the handmaiden to your chambers, your loyal knight Ser Lorent followed closely behind you. “Who are you considering, my Princess?” He asked closely to your ear. 

You breathed a sigh of relief allowing your snarky personality to resurface, “I am considering many things. None of them are any of those men we saw today.” 

You reminded Ser Lorent of the most annoying parts of your mother when she was young. He huffed, “If you do not select a suitor, my Princess… The Riverlands-”

“Would now surely turn their cloaks, I know it.” As you reached your chambers, you turned to him, “Allow me to sleep. I’ll have an answer on the Marrow.” You conceded. 

He nodded somberly, “Goodnight, my Princess.” He said before leaving.

You did not sleep however. Your mind was restless. Of all the men you saw today, none offered you anything. None of them seemed to have any humility. Nor did any excite you. You stared out the window of your chambers, watching Silverwing lay in the fields of Raventree. She sighed restlessly, just as you did. You hated leaving her in such weather, but as the rains let up, you grabbed the cloak the blackwood nephew offered you. 

And so you snuck out of your chambers, so kindly given to you by the Blackwoods. With the intention of riding Silverwing back home and begging your mothers forgiveness and pray she doesn’t decide on a match for you.

However as you tread through the wet grass and mud towards your gorgeous beast. You unexpectedly were confronted with a rowdy group of Blackwood boys drinking from two large jugs of ale. You stopped in your tracks and stared at them with wide eyes, to which they returned the same look of shock when they saw you. Their loud speaking, laughing, and singing came to a stop once they saw you.

“My Lady!” One of the boys said as he hid the jug of ale behind his back.

The one beside him smacked the back of his head, “She’s not a lady, she’s a princess!” The other loudly corrected. 

You raised your hands up, “Sh!” You commanded, not wanting Ser Lorent to hear.

The eldest looking one began to stammer, “Princess, I- I apologize we thought you were abed.” 

You waved your hand in dismissal, “It’s quite alright.” You wrapped yourself in the cloak for warmth,  “It’s your home.” The boys looked at you with confusion. They did not want to question a princess but they really had no idea what you were doing out in the fields after such a storm. “I could not find sleep. So I took to a walk.” It technically was not a lie. 

The boys looked at you in silence, unsure of what to say or do. Until the younger boy revealing his jug of ale from behind his back, “We’ve ale-” 

The boy offered you, but soon a familiar voice rang out within the group of lads. “A Princess does not drink our shit ale.” Benjicot said as he stepped forward. 

You however did not need your honor defended against a drink. A drink you so badly needed, “I’ll drink it.” You said stepping forward and grabbing the jug and taking a swig. 

And soon enough you were as tipsy as the rest of the lads, and walking along the fields of the Blackwood land. You found yourself actually enjoying yourself. The boys were kind, and amused you. In fact you couldn’t think of the last time you’d laughed. 

The boys gasped as they saw your large beast fly across the sky. Her form covers the light of the moon for a moment. 

You smiled as you looked upon her, “Silverwing. She bonded with me when I was a girl the age of ten and two.” 

“Can we ride on it?” The younger blackwood boy asked innocently. 

“Don’t be daft, the beast would eat you alive!” The eldest boy said, scolding his younger brother. 

Amused you smiled as you pasted the jug of ale back. This time Benjicot took it from you. His hand gently brushed against your own. When his warm skin touched your own, you felt a chill. As if you’d never been touched before. You looked into his eyes. He didn’t seem so hard, his gaze was warm. You didn’t want to look away, and you didn’t want to move your hand. And from his stare you could tell neither did he. Until his gaze was ripped from you as six other men approached from down a tall hill.

Ben took the jug of ale from your hands, “Bracken cunts.” he grumbled  as he stepped in front of you, “Take the Princess back to Raventree Hall.” He ordered as he glared at the men approaching you. Though none dared to touch you. 

“Fitting!” One of the men in yellow said, “A bastard belongs with a Blackwood.“ They laughed. 

“What did you say?” Ben hissed, attempting to step towards them but one of the other blackwood boys held him back.

The man in yellow pointed at you, “The bastard’s dragon ate five Bracken cows.” He shouted.

Before Ben pushed his cousin off of him but before he could do or say anything else, you spoke up, “I would see to it that your house was given their worth doubled for your trouble. But your words are treasonous and above all a great insult to my mother the Queen.” You spoke calmly but your tone was dark and deep.

The Bracken stifled a laugh, stepping closer to you, “Your false Queen mother is a whore. What Velaryon has hair like that?” 

Benjicot stepped closer to the Bracken, blocking his path to you, “You wouldn’t dare.” He said, holding onto the hilt of his dagger. Ready to take the Brackens tongue for his words.

As your heartbeat rose, a large thud shook the ground beneath your feet. Silence that followed rang loudly. But not as loudly as the rumble of a heavy growl Silverwing made as the large ghastly beast began crawling down the tall hill. She began to open her mouth, with the heat and light of fire emanating from it. 

“Daor! Likiri, gaomagon daor nābēmagon, Silverwing!” “Be Calm, do not attack, Silverwing!” You commanded, and she obeyed. She let out a sigh, and a whine, eager to protect her rider. 

“Jikagon, kisalbar va tolī nuspes.” “Go, feast on more cows.” Your command pleased her well enough as she took to the sky once more. The flap of her wings and a large gust of wind pushed some of the Brackens into the mud. 

Your eyes went back down to the Brackens, “I just saved your very life. You might wish to thank me, by leaving my presence.” The men scattered, running back over the hill. 

Benjicot turned back to you, “I’ll see you to your chamber.” He said with a huff as he walked past you. 

As you followed the lads back, they were silent, aside from the youngest Blackwood making a few comments of how exciting it was to see a dragon up close. To which his older brother smacked the back of their head. 

Once Benjicot and you reached the door to your chamber, he stood there for a moment, trying his hardest not to look at you. As if he were restraining himself from something. 

“I enjoyed myself tonight. You have a charming family.” You said attempting to ease the awkward silence. 

His eyes finally found yours, unable to resist your gaze any longer. As you looked up at him, his dark hair messied from the night wind. His nose was slightly crooked no doubt from another fight. Something he seemed to enjoy. You found his temper to light a heat within your body. As did his gaze. It was lustful and warm. 

Your eyes fixated on his lips, he’d a small scar from his top lip to his nose. Perhaps it was from when he was a babe, or again, another fight. You didn’t know but wanted to, it was strange you had no interest in any man other than ogling at the nice looking ones from time to time. But you never had any interest in them as persons.

As your eyes still lingered on his lips. You looked back into his eyes, to see he himself was fixated on your own lips. He began to lean in closer to you, and you began to lean in closer to him. 

But he regained his control over himself, he bit his lower lip in restraint. Shutting his eyes, and swifting walking away. Leaving you in the hall. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

You did not return to your room. No. 

You went back to the fields. You felt as though you were proven right. No man would want you. You were a bastard and the subject of many jokes amongst the highborns. Why would he want you? 

Your emotion took hold of you, regrettably. It was apparent as Silverwing began to crawl towards you, whining as she felt your pain. You loved your bond but hated that it would impact her in such a way.

So you embraced her, running your hand against her scales as you sang softly to her. “Drakari pykiros, Tīkummo jemiros, Yn lantyz bartossa, Saelot vāedis. Hen ñuhā elēnī: Perzyssy vestretis, Se gēlȳn irūdaks, Ānogrose, Perzyro udrȳssi, Ezīmptos laehossi, Hārossa, letagon, Aōt vāedan, Hae mērot gierūli: Se hāros bartossi, Prūmȳsa sōvīli, Gevī dāerī.” “Fire breather, Winged leader, But two heads, To a third sing. From my voice: The fires have spoken, And the price has been paid, With blood magic, With words of flame, With clear eyes, To bind the three, To you I sing, As one we gather, And with three heads, We shall fly as we were destined Beautifully, freely.” She purred and chirped at your song, calming her just as you knew it would. 

You smiled as she calmed, and in turn you felt peace as well. Until-

A familiar voice beckoned out “Your song is quite nice, your voice is beautiful.” You turned around to see Ben. You felt some anger towards him. But refused to allow him to think that you would care.

You nodded, “Thank you.” 

“What does it mean?” He asked gently, much more gently than he spoke to any other person that day.

You looked at him with curiosity, “It’s a song we sing to claim them. Though I find it calms her.” You looked away from him coldy, and returned to pet her. 

He swallowed hard, unsure of how to approach you, “I apologize for being… cold earlier. It was beneath me and you’d not deserve such treatment.” He said cautiously, you could tell he wished to say more but did not. He stepped towards you, “What are you doing here?”

You looked at him once more, your spirits softening for some reason. Strange as apologies never seemed to work on you. You sighed, “Debating whether I should flee to Pentos now that the skies are clear, or marry the oldest man who vied today.” 

“You said he was older than your grandsire.” He said, holding in a laugh at the memory of your insult. 

You smirked at him, “Well hopefully they’d not live long enough to consummate the marriage.”

He bit his tongue as he smirked back at you, “You don’t talk like a Princess.” He shook his head. 

You turned to face him as you stepped away from Silverwing, “Oh! You’ve met many?” You teased as you walked closer to him, “What are you doing here?”

His smile faded, and his eyes hardened, “Those cravens cannot speak to a princess-to you as he did. They were undeserving of your mercy.” He said angrily. 

You smirked and walked closer towards him, “Rivermen are made of mud, stubborn.” 

Davos sat down on the ground in a huff, “I should beat that Bracken cunt into the mud.” he said as he bit on his knuckles, still fuming. 

You however still found it not only amusing but excites your body, “I dare you.” you said with a mischievous grin, holding back a giggle.

Davos looked at you with wild eyes, blood lust perhaps. It made a shiver run down your spine as he stood and began to march back to the fields. As he was gritting through his teeth, and storming up to the Brackens still on the field. You followed him giddy, practically skipping behind him. 

As he marched over the tall hill, he could see the Bracken that had levied insult to your parentage earlier that night. He was stacking wood, and unluckily for him, alone. 

“Oi!” Davos yelled as he and you approached the Bracken. 

The fight was hardly fair. Not that Ben was larger or even stronger than the Bracken. But the way he fought was brutal and savage. The Bracken could not keep up with him. In the end the Bracken was a bloody, whimpering mess. And Ben was bloody, and dirtied from the mud. 

As he got off the Bracken, he was panting from exhaustion, but once his eyes fell back onto you, his gaze softened. 

It grew a heat in your body. As well as a guilt. You walked up to him in hast, your eyes clouded by lust. You grabbed his face into your hands and kissed him deeply. His hand found your jaw, attempting to pull you deeper into the kiss as if it were possible. 

Afterwards, you and Ben practically dragged one another back to Raventree and more specifically back to your chambers.

You began to disrobe. Beginning with the cloak he’d given you earlier that day. “I think I might be a poor influence on you, My Lord.” You said as you threw the cloak onto the bed.

“Or I you.” He said as his eyes roamed your form lustfully. 

You kicked your muddied shoes off, “Mayhaps both.” You began to untie the laces of your gown, “Still… Tonight was anything but dull.” You were left in your shift and small clothes. “Even when you are drunk, you fight very well.” You said as you crawled onto your bed.

Ben walked up to the end of your bed, looking down upon you with undignified thoughts, “Ah, well, those bracken swines couldn’t fight a babe.” He rasped, “I shouldn’t be swearing in front of a Lady, a princess no less.” He said as he cupped your cheek as you kneeled on the bed in front of him.

“I like it.” You said as you took his hand, looking at his bloodied knuckles, “Besides, I am hardly a lady.”

He shook his head with a soft smile, “No, you could be my Lady.” You looked up at him, somehow surprised by his words, “Your days would be easy and nights safe, not that you’d need it.” He rubbed your knuckles with his thumb.

Humility, was that what your mother spoke of? A man who could tell when his lady held her own?

“You did not vie for my hand today in the woods. But you do now, here in my chamber.” It was partially a jest, and partially not. You did not wish to be bedded and discarded. You did not want another jest to be made of you. 

His eyes darkened again, “It is an insult to you. To have each man from their houses come to bid on your hand. As if you’re a mare to breed.” He shook his head in disgust.

You smiled softly at him, “You’re unlike other men.” 

“In what way?” He asked earnestly. 

“You’re not an imbecile who thinks himself entitled to me simply because you’ve a cock.” You said with a smirk, and he chuckled softly at your vulgar words. 

He shook his head, “You owe me nothing. However I must ask of you one thing.” He said softly.

“What would that be?” You asked, looking up into his warm eyes.

He took your face into both of his hands, “All I ask is all of you, forever. Claim to your hand in marriage.” 

You felt time slow, as if it stopped just for you both. 

You’d ogled knights fighting in tourneys, or sparring in the yards. You’d met hundreds of Lords and can recall many you found comely. But none of them made you feel this way. None made your body weaken, and shake. None made your heart quicken. None made heat splash across your cheeks by their gaze alone. 

You never thought you’d accept a marriage by a man you’d only met meer hours ago. But he didn’t feel that way. He felt as though he’d been yours a lifetime, and you his.

‘that must be the ale’ you thought. And even if it was, which it wasn’t, Out of all the men you’d seen today he would have been your pick. 

You nodded, “You have it.”

You stood on your knees on the end of your bed. Wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a gentle kiss. He sucked gently on your plush lower lip, sweetly and slowly. His hands grasped your hips tightly. Leaving dirtied and bloody hand prints on your shift.

“We shouldn’t, I am bloodied, dirty,” He said reluctantly. 

You looked into his eyes, heavy with lust, “Then you should stop touching me with your eyes.” You smirked, and he smirked back at you, his eyes still running over your form, “Besides, I like it.” You said into his lips. 

He kissed you passionately, and then bit your lip making you wet. You whimpered as you pulled away, slightly surprised by his boldness. “You are a bad influence, my lady.” He leaned his forehead against your own, and looked into your eyes deviously. 

“Your lady?” You teased

“My Princess- my queen.” He said in a whisper as he rubbed his nose against yours.

“Call me my name,” You said with a smirk as your eyes stared at his lips.

“(Y/N)” He smiled as he stared at your lips as well. “My (Y/N),” He whispered into your lips. Kissing you again, passionately. 

His hands gripped your plush sides, running them up and down your back, running them through your hair, and soon enough he let go of any restraint as he ran his hand down your front, between your breasts, over your stomach, and between your thighs. You let out a small gasp as you felt his fingers move over your clothed cunt. 

“You ever had a man touch you like this?” He rasped into your lips, “It’s alright if ye have, I just want to know how careful I got to be.” He whispered.

You shook your head, “Only my own.” you whispered back.

“I’ll be careful,” He said as he placed his palm cupping your jaw, and his fingers tangled in your hair.

You shook your head again, this time with more conviction, “Don’t be.” You said slightly louder. His eyes stared into yours, as he slipped his hand into your small clothes. Slipping his fingers into your warmth. You moaned softly, and your face contorted to the pleasure. He relished in it. Watching you take the pleasure he was giving you. Loving your sounds more than he thought he ever could. “You feel like silk… Velvet…” He whispered into your lips, his mouth grazing over yours. It was as if he was breathing in each of your moans. 

You grabbed a hold of a handful of his dark hair, Pressing his forehead into yours even more, “That feels… good.” You whined, “So good.” You said as he began to kiss your neck. 

“You smell like dragon fire.” He said as he inhaled your scent, as if it were intoxicating. His fingers were still toying with your cunt.

He was doing such a good job, you turned your head to whisper into his ear, “You want to ride a dragon?” You asked mischievously with a smirk.

His face left your neck, looking into your eyes with devotion, “Only one.” 

You bit your lip looking at him, You stifled a laugh. “Do the biting again, maybe I’ll let you.” 

And so he did. He kissed you as if he were a starved man. Biting your lip as you commanded. His fingers motions quickened. He used two fingers to pump in and out of you while his thumb circled your clit. 

He sloppily kissed you, from your lips, to the side of your mouth, to your jaw, and finally your neck. Breathing in your scent as he bit and sucked at the sensitive skin of your throat. The pleasure was so great, you felt yourself clenching around his fingers. 

Your moans got louder, but he’d not have anyone other than him hearing them. Not let anyone know you, an unwed noble lady, were doing such an indecent act. So he pressed his mouth to yours, practically breathing in your moans to hide them. 

You clenched around his fingers tightly as you came. You shook and shuttered as you held onto his shoulders for dear life. 

He continued to pulse his fingers into you, helping you ride out your climax, until you were resting your head on his shoulder.  A whimpering and panting mess, like the Bracken. 

As he pulled his fingers out of your sensitive cunt, he looked at his wet fingers, taking them into his mouth. 

You looked at him with exhausted half lidded eyes, “Vulgar.” you said, as if it didn’t make your cunt hungry for more. 

“Ah, but you don’t taste vulgar at all.” He said as he held you closer, “You taste sweet like wine.” You said nothing, just looked at him with confusion and a smirk, “You don’t believe me?” He asked as he pressed his lips against yours, and pushed his tongue into your mouth. You tasted yourself on his tongue, and he was right, you did taste sweet. 

“Mphmm…” You moaned as your tongues dances together. 

Your hand found the tenting bulge in his breeches, you palmed it excitedly, wanting more. 

He begrudgingly took your wrist, “I cannot-” He said shutting his eyes, as if looking at you would cause him to break. “We may be drunk, I may be the hardest I’ve ever been, and you the most beautiful woman I've seen… But I cannot.” He said, attempting to convince himself. 

“You do not want to?” You asked sweetly. 

His eyes went wide at your question, and brows narrowed. “I want to, Gods know that I have wanted to sense I saw you ride that beast into the Riverlands. I thought that I would be able to, but I’ll not sully you without the Gods knowing I’m yours.” He spoke earnestly. 

You held in a laugh, “I’d not take you for a pious man.” 

You held your face in his hands, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the realm. “I’m not. But you're sacred to me, I don’t know why.” He shook his head. 

You smiled softly, “Then take this,” You said as you pulled off your small damp small clothes, “something for you to worship.” You with a cheek grin. 

He bit his tongue as he grinned at you. He grabbed hold of your small clothes, shoved them into his breeches for later. 

He gave you a final kiss before leaving you for the night. 

Finally, you found sleep. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The next morn you began to prepare for your flight back home. 

As you put your leather riding gloves on, you looked out to see the members of House Blackwood coming to bid you farewell. Ben following behind, smiling at you.

Lord Blackwood approached you, “My Princess, I do not wish to pester you. However, have you considered perhaps a member of House Blackwood?” He began to ask once again. 

You however now had an answer, and delivered it quickly. “The Blackwoods are an ancient house. Once ruled as kings of the Riverlands.” You smiled, “It’d be a great honor.” 

Ser Lorent, who was reading his horse, could not believe his ears that you’d made such a decision so quickly. 

Lord Blackwood was eliated and attempted to remain composed. “You honor us greatly, Princess.” He let out a breathe to calm himself, smiling widely, “Perhaps our eldest son Samwell-”

“Benjicot.” You interrupted. “If he is willing of course. We are the same age, I feel it will make an equal union.” You explained. 

However he was not about to deny you, nor question your decision. As long as he’d the last name Blackwood that was all that mattered. “Very wise, my Princess. Fly safely, we shall see one another again.” He smiled and you smiled back with a nod. 

As he left you, Benjicot approached you, as he did his uncle passed him. Patting him on the back excitedly which only annoyed and embarrassed him. 

“Princess,” He bowed his head to you, keeping formalities in front of the knights of your mother. He held out a scroll of parchment. 

You took the scroll, looking at the wax seal of the sigil of house Blackwood. “What is this?” You asked softly. 

“A written proposal of marriage.” He said, holding in an eager smile. “Something to show to your mother. I wish for her to understand my intentions.” He said earnestly. 

“I should return this to you before I leave.” You said as you handed him his cloak that he’d given you the day prior.

He shook his head, “Keep it.” He said, stepping closer to you. “You’ll have something of mine, and I something of yours.” He said in a hushed whisper. You smiled softly, and Silverwing purred.

You looked at her, petting her side gently, “She likes you, I think.” 

“I should hope so.” He said, intimidated by the large beast. You smirked and giggled softly, “I shall write to you.” He said as you mounted Silverwing. 

“I would like that.” You said looking down upon him, hooking yourself into your saddle. “Geros ilas, ēva nyke ūndegon ao arlī.” You said to him sweetly.

“What does that mean?” He asked, 

You smirked down at him, “Perhaps one day I will teach you.” 

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[nkogneatho]

since @ohimsummer is talking about arcade dates with toru, i had such a funny thought in my head.

loverboy!satoru who is flexing about his skills and everything to you on your first arcade date. you're not even buying it. you're sure he is blatantly lying trying to impress you. but turns out, he was not. his instincts are so strong and course of actions faster than a computer. you challenge him at every game and he ends up winning all of them. mocking you with a "you cryin'?" when you're pouting. but then you pull out a card he wasn't ready for. you grab him by his wrist and take him to the claw machine. everybody knows claw machines are rigged and they are undefeated. the claws are purposely loose so you just keep on feeding it money without winning anything ever so soon.

"win me that hello kitty plush in a single try and i'll go on a second date," it comes out more as an order rather than a request. satoru pokes his tongue against his inner cheek. "scared to lose? i thought you were the strongest, pretty boy." the salt rubbed too deep on his ego. he left for a few minutes, and you thought it must be nature's call. he returned with a glorious smile on his face.

"ight. bet." he said. you moved aside to not get in his way as he scanned the card. the machine beeped, green light indicating he can start. you were giggling behind knowing it is impossible to get it on the first try. gojo's hands moved the controller in a calculated manner, eyes on the prize. he hit press when the angle was just right. a smile masked your face, waiting for the claw to losen up and the toy to fall, but your smile kept fading with every second it reached the exit. without dropping it. five seconds later, hello kitty was in toru's hand and a surprise on your face.

"how did you—wha—on the first—huh?" you struggled to articulate a sentence.

"told ya. 'cause 'm the strongest, princess." he snaked one hand around your waist, bending a little to plant a kiss on your cheek. when you were busy enjoying it, he looked over to the side and winked at one of the staff. "now, how does a movie sound for a second date?"

[kosije]

sins in silk

c/w ★ ׂ duke!miguel ohara x princess!reader, they are from different kingdoms, mentioned age-gap, forbidden love aspect, pregnancy kink, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual head, fingering, size kink, art cred: kammie_arts1903

"Princess, the Grand Duke is here. May I bring him in?"

"Show him to the study for now. Tell him I will be right out. Be sure to thank the Grand Duke for his patience."

"Yes, Princess."

"Oh, Will?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"After you inform the Duke, please excuse everyone to their chambers, yes?"

"But princess, you know if the king found out we had left your side, even with the Grand Duke we could lose our-"

"I will not let that happen. So please, Will, do this for me."

All though apprehensive, your servant bows and disappears from your room, in long strides to the Duke.

It's the 5th time this month he has come to the estate. Always with the intention to see the King and ruminate. And despite him being so much older than you, your father's closest friend and strongest connection to the 2099 kingdom, and is only to wed a woman from his territory, each time he has come has left you tangling a hand in your silk sheets, hushed cries of the Duke's name left to fall from your wet lips in a silent plea.

Every time he drops by unannounced, talks to your father, and leaves. Every time he has his salt and pepper sprinkled brown hair combed back away from his face, showing the wrinkles on his forehead. Every time his eyes have focused on you, running over you like the pretty oil portrait that hangs above the study's mantle as his jaw flexes brows furrow, something in you ignites and the yearning becomes almost palpable.

Never does he say more to you than a few words, only acknowledging you after with how his body tenses when you're around. He runs as cold as the marble under your feet as you move to your vanity to reapply your perfume and shift your dress to expose enough of your collarbone without looking intentional. You're buzzing at the thought of seeing him, taking the rollers out of your hair with bubbling anticipation. This is the first time he's come amidst nightfall and the first time you two will be alone. With your hands resting to your front, you walk to the study well aware of how low your neckline is dipping while high pillared walls with paintings of cherubs and past battles trail you illuminated by ivory candles.

When you push past tall burgundy doors, you're greeted by the sight of Grand Duke of 2099, Miguel O'hara, who's stretching his back with two large hands on his hips. The deep groan he lets out makes your skin flush, and when his cold gaze meets yours you almost shiver. His eyes drift from your face to just right where your dress exposes a bit of the fat on your breast, and you smile when you hear him suck in a breath.

"What do I owe the pleasure, Your Grace?" His eyes tear from your chest as he focuses on the crackling fireplace.

"Just here to see your father, is he near?" He asks, brown eyes fixing back onto yours. Your smile only widens.

"I'm afraid the King is away, but he should be returning soon, you are more than welcome to stay 'till his return."

"I shouldn't-"

"Humor me, Your Grace. After all, I am a bit lonely without my father to talk to." you say, batting your eyelashes at him bashfully.

Apprehension is so clear on his face, but still he nods, straightening his white button up and waiting for you to go on.

"Follow me," you say, walking back down the hall until you reach your room.

"Princessa, I will not go further, this is inappropriate. A young lady shouldn-"

"'M not as young as I was before. Surely you can agree, no?"

"Even so," He coughs. "That is not the point-"

"You should have no trouble entering. I have already given my permission."

He doesn't look convinced.

"Do you not trust me? Have I done wrong by you?"

"That is not it, Princessa-"

"Then please, my duke, time is slipping right past us." you whisper, slipping through the doors, intentionally brushing your hand across his thigh. You grin when you hear his shaky breath, and hear your door not only close, but lock.

"What is it that you have here that we couldn't be anywhere else for?"

"Are you putting on an act," you ask him, turning around to face him still at a distance. "Or are you truly this aloof, Your Grace?'

"I’m sorry?-"

"I have a confession," you say. walking closer and closer until his breath is caught in his throat, and your lips are just a nudge away from his.

"My father won't be returning anytime soon." And suddenly, it seems it has clicked in his head, as his eyes darken.

"This can not happen."

"You're right," your hand is pressed up against his chest.

"Someone could hear us," He whispers, making no effort to push you away.

"I've already dismissed everyone to their chambers."

"If your father ever found out there could be a war," he tries to argue, but his head is still dipping down, ghosting over your lips.

"We have all night to just the two of us."

And just a second after saying that, he kisses you. His lips are hot, hungry, and experienced in the way they move against yours, swallowing your every breath. His hands find your waist, but he hesitates and you can tell he hasn't given in completely. And something about that excites you.

You pull away from his lips, leaving him noticeably confused until your hand reaches down and palms his cock, happy at the way he's already hard.

"Do you know just how long I've been wanting this?" You ask shifting him around you.

He doesn't say anything, only shakes his head "No."

"Ever since the day you came back to visit, I haven't been able to think of anything else." When you push him down on the edge of your bed, he shivers when you drop to your knees and play with the button on his slacks.

"Every night, I touch myself on these sheets to the thought of you." You confess, finally free him from his pants, leaving him in the thin fabric of his underwear, painfully soaking up the front of them with his pre.

"Princessa," He finally says in almost a whine. "If you say things like that I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back."

And dipping your hand under his waistband to grip his cock, you savor how thick and heavy he feels and the groan he lets out with a kiss to his base. You can't deny the bit of worry that flushes through you when you see just how big he is. Thick beads of cum pulse out of him that you lick up hungrily, humming at how you can feel hus veins on your tongue.

"Then please, Your Grace. Give me everything."

That seems to shatter his self control, because suddenly he has a hand in your hair and a hand on his cock as he forces your lips over his angry brown head.

"You're such a damn tease, you know that?" He gritts out, bullying his cock all the way to the back of your throat and then some. You gag and choke around him, already feeling your throat burn and eyes well up.

"Always coming around me with your father with your body on display in those cute little gowns, batting those pretty little eyes at me when you talk. What would your father think if he knew all of that was because you were trying to get my attention?" He coos between groans while using your face like just a vessel to get off, and your cunt starts dripping. "Just so I could fuck your pretty mouth like this?"

You can't do anything but moan around him, croaking out gasp when he finally lets you catch your breath before immediately pulling you back down onto his dick rapidly as snot mixes in with tears, spit, and cum starts to drip down your jaw and onto your floor. He begins to unbutton his shirt, before tearing it off completely, leaving buttons to fly across your room. Looking up through teary eyes you take in the way his usually combed back hair sticks to his sweaty forehead messily, as his abs tense and relax with every rapid breath as his mouth lulls open with lidded eyes, moaning when he sees just how well you swallow him.

Swiftly, you run your tongue over the slit of his cock, hearing him whine, and feeling the grip on your hair tighten enough to burn your scalp. Your throat aches with every heavy thrust that only spurs on the throbbing between your thighs as your hands play with his balls and he stutters in your mouth, shooting his seed down your throat, midst mumbling praises.

Without word or warning, he flips you over, effectively pinning you down to your bed once he's come down from his high. His large calloused hand runs up and down your thigh before tossing your nightgown up, and he groans at the sigh.

"You needed me so bad you didn't wear anything under this frilly thing? What a filthy girl." He grins, slapping your dripping cunt and drinking up your moan in a kiss.

"Your Grace,"

"That's not what you should be calling me." He grits, crouching down to his knees to lick a stripe up your throbbing pussy.

"M-miguel,"

"Yes, Princessa?"

"Please."

"Please what, Princessa?" He says, licking another stripe, but slower.

"Please...don't tease me." You whimper, muffling your moans with the back of your hand.

"And what shall I do instead?"

"Kiss me harder, please. I need it, Mig-" and your sentence is cut off by the feeling of his nose kissing your clit as he buries his face into your sopping heat, groaning at the way you suck his tongue in. You're writhing at the feeling, but when you feel one of his calloused fingers push through you, you lose your vision for a second.

"Fuck- you're even tighter than I thought you were," he groans, and you feel your body ignite at his admission.

"You'd think of me?" You ask with such a worn out voice, Miguel's hips buck up in search of any friction at all.

"All the damn time. Would fuck my hand everyday over those pretty eyes and lips, imagine how pretty you'd look all happy and spent, with the image of my love spilling out of you." He confesses, speeding his assault on your hole, hitting spots with his fingers you could only dream of, before latching his mouth back on and fucking you with his tongue and fingers. The arousal in you was rushing through you like a wave and just after a strangled moan it blows out of you in pleasurable burst that leave you flushed. He hungrily drinks you up like a starved man until you're whining from the sensation.

When he rises from the floor he doesn't bother wiping your slick from his mouth, only laughs at your fucked out expression, and runs his lips over yours, amused by how you trail after him. Annoyed, you wrap your hands around his collar and pull his lips onto yours, gasping and licking into his mouth. Between the taste of you on his tongue, his rock-hard cock rubbing against your puffy folds as your hands run through his sweaty hair.

"Gonna give me one more?" He asks, voice low like gravel.

"I'll do anything for you, Miguel. Anything you want."

He kisses you again, a passionate thing as you both whine at the feeling of him bullying into you.

"'Ts too big, Mig- oh! S-slow down!" You cry, but his hand slaps the fat of your thigh and grips it, hitting you even deeper at a fast pace. The pain is still there, but feeling of pleasure is much more intense. And it only skyrockets when you hear his voice.

"Sshhh sweetheart. You're-fuck-already taking me so well. so damn tight around me. Be good and take what I give you. So I c-can tell your father what a nice cunt his perfect little girl has." He rasps, pounding you even deeper than before, and your nails dig up the fabric of your sheets, leaving fabric frayed in long scratches. One hand grips your thigh as the other moves up your dress to tweak and grope your breast, making you clench down around him. He drawls out a curse as his head falls into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell of your sweat and perfume that makes him impossibly more needy to where he's plowing through you in quick hard strokes that move your bed to knock against your walls, shaking the shelf above you.

His teeth sink into your neck, almost as a mark of ownership, before sucking a bruise into your skin, continuing his markings lower and lower to focus them on your breast. Your back arches at the sting and you cry out at the imposing feeling building up inside you.

"Such a pretty girl," he says, leaning over to look you in your eyes, studying the gaping of your mouth and tugging on your brows as your orgasm builds up. His eyes are trained on you, as he throbs inside you, stimulating you further.

"I'm close-" you whimper, voice cracking as he licks a stripe up your neck.

"Yeah?" He asks, smirk practically audible as he hums in your ear. "Do it. Squeeze me, sweetheart."

It only takes a few heavy strokes to hit your sweet spot before you are gushing around him, making his thrust sporadic and moans louder.

"Yes-shit- let me fill you up. I'll give you an heir, and then I'll-hah- fuck you again, and again, and again."

"Yesyesyes, please." You think you exclaim, but can't tell if you said it out loud or just in your head because of how overestimated you are. His hand rubs circles on your clit, and your toes curl as your heels dig into the muscle of his back.

"Fuck- I'm gonna-" He spits out, just before spilling his seed into your cunt, carefully riding out his orgasm inside you while pushing his cum deeper into your womb. His palm stretches over the expanse of your chest as he leans down to kiss just above your belly button. The room is quiet now that he is still inside you, and you watch Miguel lean down to kiss you once more, in the form of a soft peck to your swollen lips. Once he pulls back, he leaves you briefly before returning with a warm damp cloth that he wipes you down with. Once he is done, he discards it into a bucket and lies himself down next to you.

"If we continue to do this," he says, carefully pulling out of you. "We will eventually have to tell your father."

"You're right," you whisper scared, but when you feel his strong arm pull you flush against his chest, hope surges through you and you bury your face into his warm body.

"We'll need to get up early, the maids would appreciate finding us like this."

"We'll be fine. After all, a pregnancy will shock them far more than this."

"I'm sure it will," he laughs, kissing your forehead.

Since envelops the two of you, as you notice his breathing deepen.

"Your, Grace-"

"Miguel," he corrects, eyes dancing across your face with a small smile.

"Miguel, my father will be gone on the next full moon."

"The next full moon, huh?" He asks no one at all, pushing your hair behind your ear.

It’s bittersweet asking him to sneak around with you again. And yet, all he says is a simple "Okay," placing a kiss to the palm of your hand, and you understand what the gesture is:

A promise.

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ This is more than a sick love story (Pt.2) ⭑

Masterlist

Part 2 to; "The ballad of the raven and the dragon, Part 1.

Pairing: Benjicot ("Davos") Blackwood x targ!princess!reader

Summary: Returning home after that evening was harder than you thought, the risky letters don't help either. Would it really hurt to meet again?

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, +18, heavy yearning, sexting in medieval times, mastrubation, pillow humping, making out, grinding, handjob, oral both m and f receiving. And some fluff <3.

Word count: 3k

POV: Benjicot Blackwood

A mixture of iron and salt coats his tongue, the clashing of swords and screaming of men fills his ears. Yet another man's blood spraying over his face and garbs. House Bracken wanted revenge for their fallen men and when they heard of the princesses departure they made their move. Even Benjicot could taste the cowardice in their blood. At this point the battle could barely be called a battle anymore as house Bracken had already suffered heavy losses. 

Benjicot couldn’t even keep up with the amount of Brackens he killed now, mind in a blur due to the adrenaline and violence. Even the cows didn’t survive. His men killed the remaining of the intruders and the battle was clearly won by house Blackwood. It had only been a week after the princess left and already his heart had a gaping hole which only could be filled by her. She promised she would write secretly, using ravens that would only ever make their way to him. 

The sun began to set as they left the sea of bodies behind them, making their way back to Raventree Hall. Upon arrival the gods had clearly answered his prayers because just when he got off his horse and handed him to one of the stable boys a raven flew towards him. Quickly taking the letter he made his way to his only place of privacy, and just like everyday he passed the dining hall. His cock stiffens every time he’s in or passes that room now, memories of the intimacy he shared with the princess flooding his mind. He finally got to his bedchamber and locked the door behind him once inside. Benjicot didn’t even bother to clean himself first, he ripped the unmarked seal off the letter and rolled it open.

Dear B,

I hope you are well, I wrote this as soon as I got home but I suppose the raven will take a bit to get back to you. The whole way back I couldn’t stop thinking about your handsome face, or your hands tracing my body. You are and will be on my mind until I get to see you again, however the idea of maybe never meeting you again strikes fear into my heart. I never thought that that one evening with you would change me so. I was too afraid to tell you this in person but you are the most fearsome, handsome and astounding man I have ever met. We have to meet again, I would not survive without your touch. Even thinking about that evening now sets my chest aflutter and my thighs soaking. You don’t even understand how badly I need you again. I hope you think of me as well. I hope you use my chemise every night to get off to the thought of me. I have thought long and hard about a place we could meet. I think the Whispering Wood is perfect, it is near enough for you to sneak out to and I can easily hide my dragon along the coast of Iron Man Bay. I hope you write back to me soon. 

Love, your pretty princess.

His mouth was still agape when there was a knock on his door. “My lord shall I draw a bath for you?” He could hear one of his servants' muffled voice. He rapidly stuffed the letter in his pocket, opened the door and let the servant do her work. Once the bath was drawn he dismissed the servant, he always washed himself since he never liked people just watching him be naked. With the door closing he removed the letter from his pocket and smelled. And like he suspected it smelt of ink, smoke and her perfume oil. Benjicot placed the letter on the small table beside the bath and swiftly removed his clothes. His cock already hard and leaking from reading the letter. 

He got in the warm bath with a sigh, he thought for a moment and grabbed the letter from the table next to him. His eyes scanned the words again and he felt his poor weeping cock begging for attention, so he read the letter once again, now grazing his thumb over the leaking slit on the head of his hard member. A mixture of a hiss and groan leaving his lips, he was so horny he didn’t even care if someone heard him. His eyes never leaving the letter he started to roughly jerk off his cock, the words on the paper relighting the memories of their shameful evening. 

His perverted mind only added fuel to the fire by imagining new scenarios with you, gods he’d fuck you on his bed, on his chair, on the settee, on the floor, against the wall, fuck even in the bath. The last image really spurred him on, moaning at the thought, he put the letter down for a moment to massage his seed filled balls as well as fisting his cock. Softly chanting your name through the room. “Please- please- fuck me- ride me baby just like that- ah fuck- I can’t-” 

Seven Hells even his own dirty little words made the fantasy feel real. Your cunt enveloping his hard sensitive cock, water splashing everywhere as both your moans filled the room. He could feel the familiar knot starting to snap in his belly, he fetched the letter from beside him again, thrusted into his fist a few more times and released ropes of his seed all over your letter. The words blurring as his cum covered them. He panted and shuddered at the sight. 

When Benjicot had calmed down from his orgasm he put the letter aside and now actually washed himself, even after he had dried himself off, had hidden the letter, and crawled into bed he still felt aroused. His cock hardening once again he knew his hand wouldn’t do so he threw the sheets of himself, removed his breeches and grabbed his pillow to position it just like he had you bend over the table. 

He then grabbed his again leaking precum member and positioned it against the pillow, the texture on his angry red tip feeling like pure bliss, he started humping against the pillow wishing it was you on his bed instead. Fucking the pillow harder and harder he decided it was better to release in his hand instead. So with a cuss and loud moan he spurted his cum in his hand imagining it was your cunt he was filling instead. After having cleaned off his hand in a basin, pulling his breeches back on he could finally fall asleep.

The next morning he immediately fetched paper and ink and started on a letter to write you back, when he was pleased with it he sent it by raven and hoped it would fall into your hands. Afterwards getting on with his duties as lord of Raventree Hall. 

Your POV:

A raven flew into the open window of Dragon Stone, the sun had set and you were in your chambers reading a book to your brother Joffrey. It had been two weeks since you sent that letter and you were beginning to get worried but relief washed over you at the sight of the raven. The second the raven landed on your settee you sent Joffrey back to his chambers guided by your handmaiden and told her that she was free for the night. She eyed you suspiciously but has always followed you loyally. When they left you grabbed the letter from the raven which flew away again and opened the unmarked seal, heart beating in your chest, you rolled the letter open.

My dear beloved,

Your raven arrived safely into my hands, I had to open it alone which proved to be needed because of your passionate writing. I am well unless you count the way in which you have plagued my mind. I can’t do any work without thinking, ‘what would my love think of this’ or ‘I wish my love could help me with this’. Seven hells, I can’t even walk in or pass my dining room anymore without my cock growing stiff in my pants. Any thought about you turns sinful, you have perverted me and turned me into a monster. Especially now without your touch. Last night when I read your letter, I read it in my bath. And you know what I did? I fucked my hand imagining it was your sweet cunt instead and when I reached my peak, I came all over your pretty handwriting. Your letter made me so horny I later fucked my pillow in bed too. So it is safe to say I need your touch too. So fucking badly. When you get this letter, try to leave as quickly as possible and head to our location. I will be waiting under the ruse of a solo hunting trip. Don’t make me wait too long my love. 

Love your B.

You went to bed with an uncontrollable smile on your face, your skin hot and folds wet at the thought of seeing your Benji again. The next morning you told one of the servants to inform your mother about your “flight to patrol the sea” so you could actually quickly get dressed and leave on dragon back to the Whispering Wood. The entire flight you thought about how meeting him again would go. High above the clouds your mind floods with impure thoughts of Benjicot Blackwood. When you knew you were about to be close to the shore of Iron Man Islands you still stayed high but descended out of the clouds so you could see. And you were right, no one was in sight when you landed with your dragon on the shore. 

So you began your pretty short walk to the Whispering Wood, nerves and excitement reeling through your body. Your walk through the Whispering Wood was different, anxiety started to take hold instead. What if he wasn’t able to come? What if someone caught you? However your fears began to ease when you could see the back of Benji’s hair and body who was standing near a small lake in the middle of the forest.

You walked as quietly as possible, wanting to surprise him. When you were near him you cupped your hands over his eyes and heard him laugh. He removed your hands and immediately turned around. He wasted no time crashing his lips on yours making you moan at his roughness. After some time he finally let go. “I have-” “I missed-” You both laughed at both of your attempts to speak first. So he started instead. “I am glad you got my letter, I can’t bear being without your touch and your voice any longer.” You smiled and a blush creeped onto your skin. “I couldn’t wait either. I don’t know what type of spell you casted on me but I don’t ever want to get rid of it.” He grinned at your words and took you in his arms once more.

“I don’t know if I can let you leave again. It would be too painful.” He confessed, holding your head against his chest with one hand and holding your waist with the other. “I don’t ever want to leave you again either but I don’t know how I would ever tell my family about this. And in the middle of a dragon war too.” He held you tighter and kissed the top of your head. “What did you tell them when you left?” Benji asked. “I told one of our servants to tell my mother that I went to patrol the seas, so I hope she bought it. I didn’t want to face her today.” You explained, your hands wrapping around him tighter. 

Benji held your chin and made you look at him. He softly licked his lips before devouring yours again like he did mere minutes ago. Except now both of your desires were growing strong. You felt like you were in heat every time he touched you. He kissed you like it was his last day on earth. You had kissed before but this time it was different. Who knew when you would see each other again?

He bit your bottom lip so he could let his tongue enter your mouth. Your feverent kiss turned into a full make out as he sucked and licked your tongue. He couldn’t hold his own groan back and let his hand slide to your ass cheeks, which he gripped harshly to pull you against him just like he did on your special evening. Which earned him a moan from you as you grazed his teeth with your tongue. Never did you think a kiss could turn so ravenous. “Benji-” You gasped against his lips when his hand began to massage your ass harshly. 

Making your two fronts grind against each other, his clothed already hard cock hitting your clothed wet cunt just right. He knew exactly what you liked and would do everything in his power to leave you shaking and trembling beneath his touch. “You want this fucking cock baby? You want it that fucking bad?” He pants against your lips, you could only moan a ‘please’ in response. 

He removed himself from you and helped you remove your clothes, you had never seen him this touch starved. He was truly acting like an animal. Benji got on his knees in front of you and swung your right leg over his shoulder for better access to where you needed him so badly. Your cunt was throbbing and almost hurting from how aroused Ben made you, your slick already coating your inner thighs. Benji held you steady and began to lap at your soaked folds, moaning at the taste of your sweet arousal. 

“Benji- please- I can’t take it-” Your want for him made you more sensitive than normal and all you could think about was how good his tongue was fucking you. It was so warm and wet and the way he used it to lap at your clit made you see stars. He took it a step further and entered a finger into your tight hole. It slipped in with ease and Benji grunted at the feeling, his own cock feeling tight in his breeches.

It didn’t take long for your orgasm to take hold of you, with the way he was fingering you and sucking and lapping at your clit, made you dizzy. You could only let out gasps and moans, your entire vocabulary being thrown out the window. With one last scream of his name he let go off you, already removing his pants and breeches ready to fuck you dumb but to his surprise you stopped him. “I want to do to you what you just did to me Benji.” You pleaded already looking up at him with your lashes. He took in a sharp breath and watched you sink to your knees.

Grabbing his leaking cock by the base you decided to lick up the precum and see how he would react. “Fuck- baby do that again. Don’t stop.” He gasped. You did as he commanded and this time sucked at his tip, resulting in him throwing his head back and moaning out of pleasure. The salty precum on your tongue motivated you to swirl your tongue around his tip and continue sucking. His groans and pants and ramblings of your name filled you with need but first you wanted his seed in your mouth again.

You continued to suck on his tip but now took him further in your mouth, earning you quite the explicit and long moan. Finally he looked down at you and softly held your head by your hair, guiding you a bit deeper. “Seven hells, look at you, swallowing my cock like that- You love it don’t you. Me using you as if your a common wench- Fuck- Just like that baby c’mon-” Him talking to you in such a manner made you reach for your clit, which made Benji smile and pant at the sight. Chasing your own release he helped you by guiding your head faster down his cock. Spit and precum drooling down your chin, hair all messed up. How would you even explain that to your family? 

“C’mon baby- I’m gonna fucking cum- You want my spent down your throat- Of course you do- Yes- Yes- Fuck!” The view of you cumming rubbing your clit finished him. You basically drank his cum as he filled your throat all while he gasped for air and moaned your name. When he pulled back from you, you licked your lips and smiled up at him. Never had you felt such power over a man. It felt way to fucking good. He pulled you back up and kissed you again. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He laughed breathlessly. 

“I think it’s about the same as what you do to me.” You smiled. He kissed your forehead before handing you your clothes again. While you both got dressed that heated, exciting and blissful mood turned quiet and solemn. You both knew you had to get back soon. After you were both dressed he sat down on the ground motioning for you to sit on his lap. You giggled as you joined him on the ground, pushing him back so you could lay on top of him, holding each other close. “I think I love you.” He suddenly blurted out. You looked at him with flushed cheeks and grazed your hand across his, over his lips and through his hair. “I think I love you as well.” He sat back up at your words and kissed you deeply. 

“Please, you can’t leave me.” He begged once he removed his lips from yours. “I don’t want to leave you.” You admitted. “You belong to me. You were made for me. I will destroy the world if that’s what it takes to make you my wife.” He rubbed your cheek with his hand as he spoke. “Come with me to Dragon Stone and ask my mother for my hand. If she for some reason refuses, I’ll cut through our guard myself if I have to, and we could run away.” He smiled at that and both of you agreed that he would ask for your hand.

[dark-moonlust]

Orc King x Elf Princess PART 2: Throne of Desires

Pairing: orc king x elf reader

Summary: you worship your king’s cock with your mouth and then he returns the favor, tenfold. 😉

Warnings: minors don't interact!!!, 18+!!!, oral (male+female receiving), fingering, overstimulation, loads of cum.

Read PART 1 here!

The throne room was lit by four torches, casting shadows across the walls as you approached your husband, the King of the Orcs. He sat in his huge stone throne, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers, his muscled, scarred body exposed in all its glory. He emitted raw power and masculinity, and was watching you with smoldering black eyes. Unlike him, you wore elvish finery; a glimmering night gown, your hair spilling down your back like a waterfall.

“My Queen,” he said, his voice vibrating through you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more, my King. You’ve had many meetings and obligations to fulfill, my husband,” you said as you approached, sinking to your knees between his legs.

He bent down and kissed your lips, his tongue licking into your mouth. “You shouldn’t be kneeling, my love. Stand up and ride me, like the good mate you are.”

You smiled mischievously. “But I want to stay here. Only for today, and worship my hardworking husband.”

Without losing time, your hands reached for his belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle. His broad chest heaved with desire, his muscles taut. And he was already thick, a bulge straining against his pants, the sheer size of it making your breathing quicken. You cupped the fabric covering his cock which was getting bigger and bigger, and spread kissed over it, feeling the heat of his arousal.

Growled in warning, his hands settled on your shoulders. “No more teasing, my Queen.”

“As you wish, my King.”

Swiftly, you unbuckled his pants and dragged them down, your fingers deftly freeing his aching cock. The thick length sprang up from its confines, throbbing before your eager gaze. His shaft was massive and heavy, the tip leaking beads of pre-cum. Your orc’s breathing grew heavier and constantly growled from deep within his chest as he watched you with hungry eyes.

Mouth watering, you wrapped your fingers around his girth, marveling at its thickness and weight— you couldn’t fully enclose it all in your small palm. His pre-cum glistened in the low light, trickling down his length. You took the head of his cock into your mouth, suckling as if it was your favorite lollipop. The taste of him was a heady mix of salt and musk that made you crave more.

“Good, very good, my Queen,” he let out feral groan as his cock twitched.

Looking up at him, you began to pump his shaft in your palms while giving kitten licks to his leaking head. The more you stroked him, the more essence trickled from the tip. By now he had swelled to full mast, his cock a hard pole as thick as your forearm. His balls were just as swollen, heavy with orc seed and pulsing in your palm.

Desire pooled in your belly as you lowered your head and took him deep into your hot mouth, the sheer size of him stretching your lips wide. Your King’s growls grew deafening, his fingers forking through your hair, guiding you to take more of him into your wet mouth. His hips bucked, and you took him deeper, his cock kissing the back of your throat and causing you to gag. Your tongue swirled around him, head bobbing head up and down to please him.

“You’re so good for me, my Queen,” he rumbled, his voice husky but quivering.

Encouraged by his words, you doubled your efforts, pushing yourself to suck him deeper and harder. Breathing steadily through your nose, you hollowed your cheeks as you took him as deep as you could, your hands stroking the rest of him you couldn’t fit in your mouth. His hold in your hair hardened, his growls turning frantic, his thighs shaking in time with your movements.

“Fuuuuck— ahhh—I’m close,” he panted raggedly.

You didn’t slow down, you went faster to please him. You could feel his cock and balls throbbing, the pulses growing stronger as he neared his climax. With a final, powerful thrust, he filed your mouth and came, spurting load after load of his warm cum in your mouth. The force of his release was too much—it always was— and you worked your tongue, swallowing buckets of his seed.

Your mate pumped seed for seconds and seconds and suddenly he pulled out, a big palm pumping his cock and splattering the last of his seed across your face. Blinking, you stood there and took his marking, your cheeks and lips smeared with his cum, while his eyes looked at you with love and pride.

“Now it’s time to mark my face with your arousal, my Queen,” he drawled, kneeling before you and kissing your cum-stained lips.

Chest still heaving from his release, he lifted you, settling you on his grand throne. It was the highest seat of power and it would soon become the stage for your cries of pleasure. He tugged at the folds of your gown, your breasts spilling from the neckline. He cupped your pert tits, suckling and nipping at your nipples. Squirming, you arched against him, nails digging into his skin.

Dragging away your skirts, he kissed your soft belly, his tongue licking inside your bellybutton. You trembled when he continued to your creamy thighs until stopping at your glinting pussy. He draped your legs over his shoulders, his hands curling around your thighs and immobilizing you.

“Hmm, such pretty pussy,” he drawled, licking his lips. “So soaked for me.”

Callused thumbs opened your outer labia, his tongue inhaling sharply taking in your scent. Then he buried his face between your legs, his textured tongue parting your inner folds and licking long, slow stripes from your entrance to your clit. He devoured your slick as if he was starving, shamelessly eating you out and rubbing his nose against your clit.

The sensations took your breath away, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

You began thrashing when you felt the stirrings of your orgasm but you couldn’t move. His hold on you was secure, his fingers digging into your inner thighs as he feasted on you without restraint. Gasping and moaning, you came hard, your hands gripping the arms of the throne. He licked you through your orgasm, casing you to turn frantic, your breasts heaving with each breath you dragged out of your lungs.

He gazed up at you as he worked your tender clit, his eyes dark with lust. “You taste so sweet, my Queen. Hmm, I could feast on you forever.”

“Ahh… my love,” you muttered, oversensitive and in sweet agony.

“Want you to cum again,” he rasped against you cunt. “Want you to mark me with your scent.”

“C..annn—can’t,” you whimpered, fingers burying in his hair and tugging. “Ahh, I can’t take it.”

A thick finger thrust inside you, his eyes blazing with demand. “Yes, you can and you will.”

And with that, he resumed his strokes, this time latching his lips at your clit while thrusting two fingers inside your tight pussy. His shoulders still held you open, and no matter how you begged and wiggled, he kept you there for his devouring. Slick sounds echoed through the throne room, mixed with your moans and his growls.

You lost track of time, writhing and begging for mercy.

But he was determined, kneeling between your legs and drawing one climax after the other from your body.

It was a wonderful and relentless assault on your senses.

When he finally decided to stop, he gave you the strongest climax out of them all, making your vision blur as you rode the last waves of pleasure. Your pussy clenched achingly around his digits, your juices flowing freely as he continued to lap at you, his face coated with your arousal. All you could do was surrender, your body trembling, your lips blabbering his name, your mind and heart belonging to him.

[katlimeart]

Made in 2017 + 2018

If you’ve seen this anywhere else, I posted it back on my deviantArt when it was made.

Mario girls cosplaying as characters from the Dark Parables franchise

1 + 2. Princess Brigid - requested by roseprincessmitia

3. Goddess Flora - requested by moon-shadow-1985

4. Thumbelina - requested by moon-shadow-1985

[chosopie]

y/n will slowly grow to love Conqueror Sukana. Just as long as Yuji keeps his title and is happy and safe

PART 3, CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

SUMMARY: It has been weeks since the day of your grand wedding. Sukuna agreed to give your brother Yuji his share of power. Ever since then, you have been spending more time with him, soon growing to enjoy his company.

cw: fluff, you and Sukuna becoming softies

: ̗̀➛ part 2

"You will make sure Yuji gets his title. He's my brother, my blood. I will see to it that he will have access to privileges and resources of this kingdom," You sternly ordered, your eyes intensely staring at your husband Sukuna.

"Damn, do you talk a lot, woman. It's only been a couple weeks and you're starting to nag like an old wife," Sukuna groaned.

"My wishes must be fulfilled," you narrowed your eyes at him.

"And what will you do if they aren't, princess?" He arrogantly smiled at you, amusement glinting from his eyes.

"I’m not a princess. I am the queen and I could send you into exile."

Sukuna laughed at you. "How bold of you. You can't do that."

"You forget that my people are loyal to me, the true blood of this kingdom."

"You forget that I single-handedly killed your pathetic man and his army," He looms over you, his chest right in front of your face.

"Only, because I allowed it. I needed someone more capable like you," You admitted, trying to hold together what remained of your pride while commending your husband. When he smirked in response, you instantly regretted letting those words leave your mouth. To your dismay, that surely fed Sukuna's large ego, keeping it full and satisfied.

"That's all you had to say, brat,” He beamed. “You have my word. The little rascal gets what he needs and I'll protect him." Sukuna reaches over your head, ruffling the hair you had just tidied up.

“Hey!” You groaned, your hands patting and combing your hair in an attempt to return it to its previous state. Sukuna and his ego was a handful, but you knew deep down there had to be a soft spot beneath all that pride and cockiness. You were determined to crack that shell and see what’s really in his heart.

When the sun had set, the dinner table had been set up by your handmaidens. There was a large variety of food all over the table. Yuji sat beside you with a big smile on his face and his eyes lovingly staring at the food.

“Yuji, keep staring like that and you might just marry the food,” you snickered.

Yuji gave you an unamused look, “Come on! I’m just hungry. It’s been a while since we’ve had steak.”

“A while?” You quirked an eyebrow up. “We have steak every week.”

“Just let me be hungry!” He whined. “Where’s your husband? I’m gonna starve to death.”

“Your king is here,” Sukuna loudly said from the other side of the room. He wore a big fur coat over his wide figure.

Hearing his loud and obnoxious voice, you roll your eyes, but you were going to test and prod at him tonight. Beneath all those muscles and ego, there has to be something else in there, right? We can’t pretend forever.

“Pass me the salt, hun,” you point towards the small shaker across the table. Sukuna raised his eyebrow, questioning your behavior; nevertheless, he complied with your request.

Yuji stared at the two of you with confusion. What was with the nicknames all of a sudden? Have you been taking something weird? This was not the big sister he knew. Perhaps you’ve gone soft. “As long as she’s happy,” Yuji thought. After having Sukuna around the house for a couple of week, he didn’t seem so bad after all, just a little obnoxious and boastful. He never raised a hand at you nor did he yell at you just because he wasn’t in a good mood. He seemed to care.

When all of you had finished eating, Yuji returned to his quarters while you and Sukuna headed to yours. Sukuna immediately threw himself onto the bed and made himself comfortable under the thick duvet.

“I’m gonna shower,” you told Sukuna. He simply nodded in response.

You stepped into the shower and twisted the small knob, allowing the warm water to rain on your skin. Closing your eyes, you thought about how Sukuna had been ever since he came around. Most of the time, you two would clash over your different ideologies or even the simplest things like food or how you ate the cake he had been waiting all day to eat. Despite all that, he respected you and treated you well. He would buy you dresses and jewelry, making sure you were clad in the prettiest things out there. You let out a sigh in relief as the warm water began to relax your body. You grabbed your most fragrant soap and made sure to scrub yourself clean. Once you were finished, you wiped yourself dry with a towel, then slipped into a pink nightgown that sort of matched his hair.

You walked into the room, Sukuna’s eyes immediately landing on you. “What’re you doing?” You ask while you made your way to the bed to sit beside him.

“Reading,” he mumbled, his eyes now fixed on the small book in hand.

“Is that a history book?” Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Aw, do you care about me and my country that much?”

“Fuck off. I’m reading this so I know how to take advantage of the shit you guys have,” Sukuna huffed in annoyance.

“I love you too, Sukuna,” you tested those words. Those three damn words. They felt foreign in your mouth.

Sukuna tensed up, his face looking stiff as ever. He hesitantly turned to look at you and got up. Now, you were scared. He inched closer and closer to you, his body towering over you as usual. You couldn’t read his expression and it made your nerves jitter. He reached his hand out to hold your head, and you thought he was going to ruffle your hair like he always did, but no. It was something different which shocked you. He pulled your head in and gently kissed you on the forehead.

“I love you,” he softly said.

You looked at him with wide eyes, your cheeks red from the intimate gesture. Was he serious? Your heart was beating so hard you could feel it in your ears. The room suddenly felt hotter than usual. There was a strange warm feeling that swelled in your beating chest. A bold idea crossed your mind, and you let your body move on its own, your arms reaching out to him for an embrace. You slowly snaked your arms around his torso and rested your head in the crook of his neck.

This isn’t so bad. You’ve fallen for him.

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear before pecking his cheek.

[utterlyotterlyx]

In This Shirt

Azriel x Rhys!Sister!Reader

Summary - It had been a distant dream, to reunite with your mate, but you never believed you'd live long enough to experience it.

Warnings - angst, depression, trauma, swearing, fluff,

Like it had happened yesterday, Azriel could remember the moment he had found out that you, his beautiful perfect mate, and the Princess of Velaris, had been trapped Under The Mountain.

It had been Cassian who had told him, he was the only one strong enough to battle against Azriel's fury and be able to walk away from it. His eyes had been brimming with anguish but Azriel already knew, he felt that last rush of love flow through his body like a current before it vanished, leaving him cold and broken.

Cassian didn't even need to utter the words.

Y/N is gone. So is Rhys. They've been taken Under The Mountain. Amarantha has them.

Every day that passed made his world feel heavy, and dark. Azriel had forgotten the sound of your voice one day, and it had tore his heart straight from his chest. He knew that your voice was melodic, he often likened it to that of a sirens song, pretty and serene.

The fight to get to where you were, mated, married, was long and turbulent on its own. Rhys had refused to accept it, he was furious with Azriel for it. You were his youngest sister, the light of his life, and he knew Azriel would never hurt you, he had always doted on you, he never let you do anything by yourself, but your older brother had certainly struggled with the news.

Rhys had gone as far as to ban Azriel from being near you and sent you away to reside in the Day Court for a couple of months, truly believing that the distance would make you both see that a path together was not one to be walked. In actuality, the distance had almost killed you, the land spanning between you and your mate had settled so deep within your soul that you had become very ill.

Never wanting it to go so badly, but always feeling the need to protect you, Rhys saw the error of his ways and brought Azriel to you, and watched as you cried as the colour returned to your cheeks whilst Azriel held you in his arms.

From that moment on, Rhys had been your biggest supporter, and he had cried like a baby when he saw you in your wedding dress, telling you how much your mother and sister would have loved to see you looking so perfect.

The Light of Velaris had vanished that night, you and Rhys had both sacrificed yourself to Amarantha to protect your court, your home, and it was because of that fact alone that Azriel couldn't tear at the foundations of the fortress beneath the mountain to get you out.

It was rare to get a smile out of him, or anything notable really, but Cassian had been the one to find him that evening, when the stars were hurtling across the blank canvas of the night sky, crying on his knees in your shared bedroom. One of your dresses was furled between his fingers, his shadows coiled around the velvet of the skirt, breathing you in and wishing you were there with them, "I can't remember the sound of her voice," his voice was hoarse, like it was the first time he had spoken in years, which it had been, all he emitted were huffs and grunts, but no words.

Cassian had stepped into the room, the room that had become darker since you had left, just like the rest of the family home. Just like Velaris. Shirts and dresses were strewn about the room, some on the floor, some splayed across the bed, as if Azriel had sifted through your closet to find the thing that held the strongest scent of you, of nightfall and starlight, of the faint salted oceans and warm sand.

"Az," Cassian fell to his knees. pulling his brother into his side and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Azriel had let his wings drop to the floor, he didn't bother holding them up anymore. "It's going to be alright. She's strong, they both are, they'll come back. She'd never leave you forever, you have a bargain to fulfil."

Azriel glanced to the bargain inking his forearm, a symphony of shadow and stars, holding one another like lovers in the night.

Then your wings came.

Your beautiful wings of midnight purple, so dark in their hue that many would think they were black, with the thick onyx membrane that Azriel always used to run his fingers along and smirk at your shivers, were gone. Packaged up with a blood red bow and dropped onto the table.

Azriel couldn't think about it. All he could do was pray to the Mother that you had at least been unconscious as they were taken from you. Part of him expected Rhys' to follow, but then the stories came, stories of Amarantha's whore and his ill-tempered sister who fought so hard that she was rid of the only things that gave her identity as punishment.

The wings were drooped at the tips, curling inward from the pain and torture from being away from their mate for so long. Comparing wingspans was something you did often, you were small compared to Azriel, your wings even smaller, but they were incredible things. Azriel could have sworn on countless occasions that he saw them hum with light whenever you were overcome with love.

The fiftieth year of your absence had crept in, and Azriel had forgotten what your lips tasted like, how the felt against his. There was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do to bring you home, to him, where you belonged.

Until someone did.

Loud cries awoke him that night, he sat upright, the shirt you usually wore to bed nestled against his chest, the ever-faint aroma of you clinging to it like the last snow before spring. Frowning, Azriel shifted from the bed. He knew that voice, he knew that low rumbling power, and when he looked out of the window, his heart stopped.

Rhys was on his knees, bundled up into Mor's arms as he cried, but Azriel couldn't listen, he couldn't listen to the pain in his brothers voice, he couldn't stop himself from bursting from the room and running down the staircase.

His mind was blinded by hope and love and the mere possibility that you might have made it back too, "Where is my wife?"

Rhys rose to his feet, looking around the space as if he would find you not standing too far away, and frowning when he saw that you had vanished, "She was just here," Azriel could have crumbled at the words.

She was just here.

You were back. You had come back to him.

Rhys went to speak again but Azriel was already gone, he scoured the house top to bottom, checking every room and hallway, he went to the library, hoping to see you curled up in your spot like you had never left and the last fifty years had been nothing but a putrid nightmare.

Azriel's heart ached, he reached deep within him, deep into a place he couldn't bring himself to graze, and tugged.

Once. Twice.

The gates opened.

Azriel saw the golden thread pour from his chest, he saw it hum like a pulse as it stretched out and slithered around the corner, and his shadows danced outward to meet it, to wrap around the golden threat leading him to you, peering backward as if telling him to go.

Your mate, your husband, followed that thread, he followed it up the staircase and down the halls, breezing past the portraits hanging on the wall until he stood before the closed door of the bedroom. Azriel reached out a hand that was trembling and twisted the doorknob, softly pushing it open to reveal you.

Weight had dropped from you, and your posture was shrouded with fear as it hunched inward, your hugged yourself as your head surveyed the space. Then he saw the scars, the marred flesh poking from the back of the dress that hung from your body, a humiliation to everything you stood for, and his eyes landed on the rings of scarred flesh around your wrists and ankles, some still angry and red and peeling.

What had she done to you?

Shuddering, you turned around, stopping in your tracks at the male in the doorway being kissed by the moonlight pouring in from the thin slits of the curtains.

He was as beautiful as you remembered, hazel eyes that you had dreamt of nightly to allow you to hold onto some hope, the sharp jaw and cheekbones that you imagined your fingers brushing against, his lips that would often call out to you, not like you remembered the sound of his voice.

"Az?"

His breathing hitched and became shaky, you knew he was doing his best to not be overcome with emotion, not when you had every reason to cry and fall apart, "Say it again."

A soft sob broke through your lips at the sound, so low and hoarse, raw, but still teeming with warmth and beauty, of brighter tomorrows.

Say it again.

"Az."

Even in the dark he could see your face crumple and contort, and he rushed to you as you weakly reached for him, not being able to stop the sobs pulling from his chest either.

It was all there. Nightfall. Starlight. Salted oceans. Warm beaches.

Azriel cupped your face in his hands, so delicately, like he was afraid to break you, and tears fell from his eyes. It was you. Glazed orbs of plum peered up at him, your fingers reached to brush his tears away, "Is this some beautiful nightmare?"

Air rushed from his lungs, your eyes were glazed over, almost as if you were in some sort of trance, "No, my angel," his voice was a hush above a whisper, his fingers caressed your cheeks, "This is real."

"I'm home?"

Realisation hit you and your eyes became clear, "You're home."

"I thought I was lost," you placed your hands on his arms, and he watched your tattoo dance in the moonlight, a twin to his own, "I knew I'd find you."

Azriel pulled you in close, he cradled your head against his chest and held you tighter as the weight of the last fifty years crushed you, "My wings," you cried and Azriel's wings pinned themselves backward, dipping themselves from sight, "She took them. How can you love me? How can you see me as anything other than weak?"

Lifting your head to meet his, Azriel's finger trailed the line of your jaw, "You are not weak, my love. Weakness would weep at the mere thought of being associated with you, for they will never get to know what it's like to have courage in the most awful of odds. It would never get to know you, because it is not a part of you and it never will be. I love you, y/n. I have always loved you and always will. I would love you in any form, in any life, in any universe. You are mine. You are my everything. You are the strongest thing I have ever encountered and the most beautiful thing to walk the heavens."

"You would not save your entire court, your family, and your husband, and go through everything you have been through, and lost what you have lost, if you weren't the strongest creature on this planet," Azriel's lips curled downward, uneven breaths fell from his lips, "I forgot the sound of your voice."

In the worst moments of your torture, all you thought of was Azriel and this moment, the moment where it would have all been worth it just to see him healthy and alive, "I forgot yours too."

Azriel sighed, he pressed his forehead against yours and took a moment to just inhale you, to let the ocean breeze pour into his soul and bring him back to life, "Can I hold you?"

Nodding softly, you felt Azriel pull away, he peeled that dress from your body and pulled one of his jumpers over your head. He led you gently over to the bed, placing you down on the side of the mattress which had forgotten the shape of you and pulled you into him.

"I'm sorry for what this has done to you."

It hadn't escaped your eye at all, the curls of onyx under his eyes, the droop of his wings, the worry that clung to him and haunted his every step. It may have been awful Under The Mountain, but you'd never want to be the one waiting for their love to come home. It would destroy you.

Azriel didn't say anything as his fingers raked over your scalp, loosening all the tension in your mind. The scent of cedar and night-kissed mountains flooded you and you nestled into that spot on his chest, reaching behind you to pull his wing over your side and smiling softly at the feeling of it. To have wings.

"I'm home," Azriel just held onto you tighter, moulding your body to the curves of his own, pressing kisses into your hairline and running his fingers through your hair.

Then your breathing fell soft, your eyes had drifted closed, and you looked peaceful, a soft smile lingered on your lips.

Azriel slept better than he ever had that night, knowing that you were back, that you had come home to him, and knowing that no matter where you walked, Azriel would always follow.

Author's Note

I love himmmmmmmm

[jetblack4realz]

only for you - jacaerys velaryon x reader

summary - when daemon takes jace to experience his first at a brothel, you're left in stress and in tears

warnings - nah

word count - 1.8k

______________________________________________________________

dragonstone was different than king's landing in many ways, but a lack of brothels was not one of them. though the town was smaller and poorer, many girls found their livings in the old shacks that served to service men of all ages, occupations, and desires.

daemon, of course, was familiar with them.

when he'd spent time on his own there, he discovered which housed the best whores and who he could trust with his money. and when he married rhaenyra and returned, he was glad to know he'd experienced all he could there, especially when young prince jacaerys came of age.

he was only ten and six when daemon deemed him needing of proper education in the realm of ladies. daemon believed himself to be doing the prince a service, just as he had his mother when she was jacaerys' age. rhaenyra knew nothing of it, for if she had she surely would have refused because prince jacaerys was betrothed.

betrothed to daemon's own daughter.

by the time she caught wind of it, the two were already headed into town with luke trailing behind them, neither velaryon boy knowing quite what they were getting into.

y/n burst into rhaenyra's living quarters outside her chambers, completely unbefitting of her station, but she had no cause to care at the moment. rhaenyra looked up in surprise as the girl stumbled into her arms, eyes rimmed with red and breath coming out in ragged, angry spurts.

"my dear, what's happened?" the princess asked quickly, looking her over for any sign of pain.

"my damned father," the girl answered with a shake of her head, rhaneyra's face falling at the mention of her husband. "he's good at making himself a bother, isn't he?"

"what's he done?" and then a certain light clicked on in her mind, her brows knitting as she peered at the girl. "where is jace?"

it was well known that if anything was bothering either of the two betrotheds, they would first seek the other out. before the arrangement, they'd been the best of friends, and now they stood closer than ever before, a certain love blossoming between them.

which was why the question hurt y/n's heart even more.

"with my father," she answered bitterly. "headed to the whorehouse of the salts."

rhaenyra didn't know what to say or do, but as tears welled in the younger girl's eyes she simply tightened her grasp on her.

"he's going to-" she couldn't bear to say it, "his first time... with anyone but me and-"

"i know, my sweet, sweet girl," rhaenyra said, shushing her as she combed her hair back with her fingers. she guided her to the couch in front of the burning fire in the living quarters, allowing the girl to settle down with a blanket tucked in her arms before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. she stepped away. "i will take care of this. i promise."

the princess fled the room, calling for her sworn protector as she hastened through the halls. y/n was left in silence, only the sound of her own quiet sniffles keeping her company as a million scenarios ran through her mind.

she'd always loved the way jace would run his hands through her hair, or rub circles in the skin of her revealed shoulders, or softly bite at her bottom lip when they began to get more heated in their quiet moments. they'd always cut it short soon after, wanting to save the real thing for their wedding night, but everything he did was still intoxicating.

now all she could think about was if he was doing those same things to someone else, some other tainted, miserable girl who was only doing it for a quick penny and had no emotional investment, no care for the boy other than the fact that he was royalty and paid well.

but he was hers. he was supposed to be hers, he was promised to her!

a few tears slipped down her cheek.

maybe this was better. maybe her father was right. maybe he needed this experience to be able to deal with living the rest of his life with a sweet, inexperienced, virgin girl like her who had little idea of what exactly those girls could do to him. maybe this way, he'd be contented.

she pulled her arms tight around her chest as she stood, suddenly uncomfortable with the fact that she was in the princess's chambers all alone. she pulled the door open and began making her way down the hall towards her own chambers. her natural instinct was to flee to jacaerys's rooms, but she knew better than to plague herself with the thoughts and smells and visions of him than what was already present in her mind.

she was sure by now he'd been taken away by some thin, perfectly groomed girl with flowing chocolatey locks and eyes that shimmered like the ocean, skin glistening with lotions the princess never cared to adorn her own skin with except on nights of celebration.

as she collapsed on her bed, a tear slipped down her cheek. the worst part was she couldn't even thoroughly imagine what the girl could be doing that would be so pleasurable to her betrothed. she didn't know what would please the boy - how was she supposed to outdo what she didn't know what was done?

it caused a pit to form in her stomach and a weight to set on her chest, a heavy, choked back sigh slipping from her lips as more tears spilled down her cheeks.

in a moment, she decided that it was silly of her to be behaving like this. this was no behavior of a princess - nonetheless that of one raised by daemon targaryen. why should she wait here for guards to drag back the princes and her father when she could feasibly do so herself?

she stood, wiping her eyes and furrowing her brows as she stomped towards the door, making way for the gates.

she was ready to skewer prince daemon.

footsteps echoed down the hallway opposite her and she stilled, expecting to see rhaenrya with a comforting smile and a promise that they'd return quickly. instead, she saw the man himself.

"what the hell?" she yelled, brows knitted as she stalked towards him. his wife wasn't far behind him, and the girl was surprised that the princess wasn't actively chewing him out as well. "you took my betrothed, princess rhaenyra's son, and his thirteen year old younger brother to a brothel?! you are a careless imbecile, you have no right-!"

"oh, shut it, little one," daemon mused with a roll of his eyes as he approached his daughter, hand coming to rest on her shoulder. "i was only trying to do both you and the boy a favor."

"a favor?" she echoed with raised brows. "by sacrificing his virginity and robbing me of a shared, intimate first experience? i don't want remnants of other women on my husband, i think you would surely understand."

"i do, but i also understand the desires of a young man and the need of a woman to be satisfied. jacaerys will not be able to fulfill your needs if he isn't shown how first," he said dismissively.

"i will show him how," she argued.

"with what knowledge?"

"basic human knowledge! it's practically instinct, and what we do not know we will learn together; what of that do you not understand?!"

"let it be finished!"

she turned to rhaenyra with surprise written on her face. she furrowed her brows, looking between her father and his wife.

"while i understand the reprimand you feel the need to give your father, i must tell you that nothing happened," rhaenyra told her with a small smile.

"what?" she asked, eyes wide.

daemon sighed dramatically. "yes, you and the boy got your wish. they ran off before i could even open the door to the brothel."

"they did?"

"yes, and i presume that jacaerys is waiting for you now," he continued, waving her off. "he was practically pissing his pants when he realized where i'd brought him."

"and you followed them back?"

"yes, though i admit they're quicker than i am," he said with a roll of his eyes.

she breathed a sigh of relief, not just at the fact that jace and luke did not participate, but also that her father didn't cheat on rhaenyra. she hated that it was a possibility, but it was one, and that was something she hated to deal with.

"go on," rhaenyra said, gesturing back down the hallway where she'd came. "i think it'd do you both good to see each other."

the young princess didn't say anything as she nodded, turning and walking briskly back to her quarters. if she knew jace at all, she knew he would return to her chambers before his own, hoping to catch her and spill the truth. she pushed the handle open, entering the room with a hesitant smile before shutting the door behind her.

jace stood at the fire with knitted brows and wide eyes, his breath quick and heavy as though he'd run all the way here. perhaps he had.

when he spotted her, he nearly tackled her in an embrace, tucking his head in her neck as his arms settled comfortably around her waist. it was hard for her to refuse, and so she didn't, wrapping her arms around his neck and settling into his embrace.

"i didn't know," he muttered in her ear, breath warm against her skin. "i didn't know where we were going and as soon as we approached i grabbed luke and fled. i don't want that, i don't want them, i want you."

"are you okay?" she mumbled, pulling back to look him over briefly. her thumb ran over his cheekbone as she examined him. "he wasn't angry, he didn't force you?"

"he didn't catch me," he answered with a bit of a smirk. "luke almost blew it for us by running into a stable boy, but he caught up quick enough."

"i tore his ear off," she hummed, a soft smile on her lips as she held him tightly. "he frightened me. your mother and i were rather upset."

"i didn't want it," he emphasized again. "i didn't do it."

"i know, i know," she said, brushing a hand through his curls gently. "just the thought of you interacting so intimately with someone else... it was hard to bear."

"i'm sorry you had to," he said softly, squeezing her waist gently. "but, never worry again. you are the object of my desire, my love. none else."

"and you are mine," she replied, leaning forward to press a slow, gentle kiss to his lips. when she pulled away, he chased after her, earning a giggle as she gave him a peck in answer. their foreheads rested against each other, both breathing sighs of relief. "i'm still going to kill him."

"not before me," he muttered.

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 2

Summary - After his mother's death in 115 AC Y/N Targaryen is summoned by his father Daemon to King's Landing in the hopes of forming a betrothal between the new heir to Runstone and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Warnings - description (?) of skinning a deer, general HOTD warnings

I am not trying to make Daemon a bad guy, in fact (Y/N) is a bit of an unreliable narrator so take a lot of his bias against Daemon and others with a grain of salt.

(Y/N) watched with a small smile as Phantom ate the chunks of red meat the young lord tossed his way. (Y/N) set his knife aside the dead deer, and he whistled for the hawk to come to him. Ever loyal, the bird obeyed, perching comfortably on (Y/N)’s shoulder. He raised his hand to Phantom, guiding him to his perch and stroking the soft feathers before returning back to his deer. 

(Y/N) skinned his deer in peace, Osric Stone the only one interrupting the young lord with his coming and goings. 

“Your grandsire worries for you.” Osric popped a grape from (Y/N)’s plate into his mouth. 

(Y/N) laughed, pulling the top half of the skin over the deer before starting back in with his knife. “And how would you know? I don’t recall my grandsire taking counsel in the stable.” 

Osric shrugged, “A baseborn son goes unnoticed by you lords, I hear lots of things I’m not meant to.”  

(Y/N) shot Osric an honest smile, pausing his movements to turn to look at the dark-haired teen. Osric returned his smile, stepping close to (Y/N). “And what exactly do you hear Osric?” 

Osric leaned in, stopping close enough for the young heir to feel his breath against his skin, “I hear that your grandsire is worried about you, as am I.” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, pulling back which caused Osric to straighten stepping back into his place. “I am fine, Osric, I feel better than I have since my mother-” He paused, clearing his throat. “You needn't worry.” 

“You isolate yourself (Y/N),” Osric insisted, “You spend your time sparing and hunting, you do not see to Runestone-” 

“I am not Lord of Runestone.” 

“But you will be.” Osric stepped close again, placing his hand on (Y/N)'s bicep causing the heir to once again stop his movements, “And it’s your duty as heir to learn these things. You can not just forgo your duties because you’re angry.” 

“I told you what he did.” (Y/N) placed his knife down, mourning his moment of peace. “What he plotted with Daemon to do.” 

“He did not plot with Daemon-” 

“What would you call it?” (Y/N) shook his head, biting out a disbelieving laugh. 

“I would call it your grandsire being Lord of Runestone while your father is a prince of the realm.” Osric said, “I do not need to explain to you, My Prince, what power titles can grant you do I?” 

“Don’t call me that.” (Y/N) froze, “I am not a prince, I am to be Lord of Runestone.” 

“And yet you remain a prince. Denying it will not make it any less true.” Osric laughed at him, shaking his head. He gathered his things from where they were placed. “I will take my leave, M’lord.” 

Osric left him alone with his dead deer, his hawk, and his thoughts. Sighing (Y/N) set, once again, upon his task. He spent the rest of the afternoon in silence only interrupted by the soft screechs of Phantom begging for more scraps. 

He let the winds wash over him as he worked, cool air calming his mind. He let the worries of his grandsire and Osric flee his mind as he mindlessly pulled skin from meat and joints. He placed his father and his true title at the back of his mind, letting his knife seamlessly sever the tail bone and the hide fell away completely. He would not let a title spoken by a friend ruin his day, and he would not let Daemon Targaryen anger him further. The prince had no right to (Y/N)’ emotions. 

(Y/N) bathed his hands in the water basin, watching the water turn crimson around his skin. Phantom screeched behind him, startling (Y/N). He turned to look at the hawk, only to startle further as a louder screech echoed through the air. He looked up at the sound, movements halting at the sight of The Blood Wyrm flying overhead. 

Prince Daemon had come to collect his son.

“A raven would not have sufficed?” (Y/N) smiled down at the parchment in his hands. 

‘Prince (Y/N) Targaryen, heir to Runestone, is formally summoned to Kingslanding by King Viserys Targaryen, first of his name King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the Realm.’ 

“You can ignore a raven.” 

“Does it not embarrass you?” (Y/N) placed the parchment on the table, meeting his father’s pointed gaze, “To have to come to collect me like I am a common criminal? Tell me, father, what did you tell my uncle to get him to write this?” 

He saw his grandsire wince behind him, “(Y/N) please.” 

Daemon Targaryen was an intimidating man. His campaign in the step stones had done nothing to soften his features, his violet eyes were sharp and cutting as they bore into (Y/N)’s matching pair. Although his hair was significantly shorter than the last time the two had come face to face Daemon’s white hair still stood strikingly against his dark wardrobe, and the shorter haircut only intensified his sharp features. 

Yorbert was right to fear him, (Y/N) mused. But (Y/N) was his son, and a man grown, Daemon did not scare him anymore. 

“You are to come with me back to Kingslanding.” Daemon’s lip curled as he spoke, giving away his frustration. “By order of The King.” 

“I do believe the exact words were ‘formal summon’ not order.” 

Yorbert glared at his grandson, “(Y/N)-” 

“Lord Yorbert, please leave us.” 

(Y/N) watched as his grandsire obediently left the room, he could feel his father’s gaze linger on him and he met his eyes when the door softly clicked shut. His father walked toward the seat across from him, placing his palms on its back. (Y/N) watched as his father took a deep breath before facing his son once again. 

“What are your intentions, (Y/N)?” 

(Y/N) laughed, unable to help himself. “My intentions?” 

“Yes, (Y/N) your intentions. You are a prince of the realm, and yet when I summon you to do your duties you respond like an insolent child!” 

(Y/N) scoffed, standing up and running his hands through his hair, “‘My duties’? My duties are here on Runestone father, they are not to be a political bargaining tool for you and the lords of my uncles’ court!” 

Daemon’s face contorted in anger at his sons mention of Runestone, volume raising, “You are a Targaryen prince-” 

“I am the future Lord Royce of Runestone!” (Y/N) yelled back. 

His father’s knuckles were white with strain as his grip on the back of the chair tightened. He laughed in disbelief at (Y/N). “I have let these lords fill your mind with poison for too long. You will come to Kingslanding, and you will start to act like the dragon you are.” 

“You’re the one who left father, do not blame those who raised your son when you would not.” 

“Is that what that bronze bitch-” 

“Do not call her that!” (Y/N) seethed, knocking the pitcher off the table in his rage sending wine spilled over the tile floor, “She was everything I had while you were off fucking your whores and fighting your wars! You do not get to show up after years of absence and demand my obedience and respect!” 

“I am your sire, I deserve your respect.” 

“You have not earned it.” 

Daemon laughed, causing (Y/N) to anger further, “Kostā deny ziry tresy, yn iksā hae olvie iā zaldrīzes hae aōha ancestors.” 

(Y/N)’s jaw tightened at the ancient language, refusing to give his father the satisfaction of understanding his words. “I wish you a safe flight back to Kingslanding father, for you will be alone.” 

(Y/N) made for the door to the room, hand pausing on the door knob at his father’s next words. 

“I will be flying back tomorrow (Y/N), but not alone.” 

(Y/N) scoffed, turning around to retort the statement but the smug smile on his father’s face made any witty statement die on his tongue, “What.” 

“Your grandsire has already given me leave to return with you to Kingslanding.” Daemon said, folding his hands behind his back, “Now go pack your things, we leave on the morrow.”

“He hoped I would obey!” Thunk. 

“He said he ‘hoped I would obey’ and yet he gave Daemon leave to take me anyways!” Thunk. 

“Should you not be packing cousin?” Ser Gerold watched as his young cousin loosed arrow after arrow into the already abused target. 

“He let me stand there and argue knowing my words were void and my wants were worthless.” Thunk. 

“You should be saying your goodbyes (Y/N) ,” Gerold sighed, “I know you consider the stable boy your friend, and no matter your qualms with Lord Yerbort-” 

(Y/N) whipped around, seething, “Did you not hear me? He has betrayed me, he is handing his only heir to the rats of Kingslanding.” 

“He did not betray you, cousin.” 

(Y/N) had immediately gone to find his grandsire after leaving his father. Begging him to claim his father’s words as false, only for his grandsire to sigh and speak (Y/N)’s worst fear. 

“He is telling true my boy.” 

(Y/N) paled, “But- no. No, you said it was my choice.”

His grandsire sighed, refusing to meet his heir’s eyes, “This is a royal summons from The King, (Y/N). I cannot brush off your uncle as I can your father. I did hope you would obey and it would not come to my command but you are more Daemon than you know (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) had left him after that, ignoring his pleas for him to stay as he slammed the door. Gerold had found him in the yard an hour later, the sun had started to drift past the tree line, leaving the yard shadowed as (Y/N) stewed. 

“I have no love for your father, but Lord Yorbert is right. Your grandsire is Lord of Runestone, your uncle is King, he cannot just disobey his summons, and neither can you try as you might.” 

“This is my father’s scheme, and his alone.” (Y/N) scoffed, returning to his target, and notching another arrow. 

“Well I’m sure you will uncover it soon enough, but you will do so in Kingslanding.” Ser Gerold gave him an apologetic smile, “I will be sad to see you go cousin.” 

(Y/N) gave him a soft smile back, “Maybe if I do not pack I can delay.” 

His cousin laughed, “Your father will be taking you to Kingslanding on the morrow (Y/N). He will drag you to Kingslanding himself and call for your things later if he must.” 

“You are more Daemon than you know (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) paused, calling out to Ser Gerold, “Do you think I am like my father, cousin?” 

Ser Gerold paused, eyes widening at the question. He steeled himself, fixing his expression before giving (Y/N) a smile that did not reach his eyes. “I will send some maids to help pack your things, you should rest, (Y/N). You have a long journey ahead of you.” 

And with that Ser Gerold left the young heir in the yard. 

The sun had fully set when (Y/N) finally returned to the keep. They had already packed most of his things by the time he’d entered his chambers. The room was sad to look at, a lifetime of memories and collected contents packed away into tiny chests in mere hours. He sighed to himself and stripped from his outer clothes, folding them and placing them on a chair as he began packing the things the maids hadn’t touched. When he was satisfied with his work he called for a servant, asking for a plate of food and wine to be brought to him. 

“Oh, and if it’s not too much trouble can you please summon Osric Stone to my chambers.” 

Thirty minutes later there was a knock at his chamber doors. 

“Come in.” 

“I hear you’re leaving on the morrow.” 

(Y/N) turned, locking eyes with the stable boy who had a plate of food and wine in his hands. Osric places them down on the table, giving (Y/N) a sad look. 

(Y/N) nodded, “My grandfather has given Daemon his permission.” 

“So this is goodbye?” 

(Y/N) stood, walking toward his closest friend. He shook his head, taking Osric’s hand in his, “I will return, whatever noble lady I am to marry will be the Lady of Runestone, she should live here with me.” 

“You do not yet know who you’re to be betrothed to?” Osric raised an eyebrow. 

“No,” (Y/N) mused, taking Osric’s face in hand, “I did not ask, it does not matter. I will do my duty as husband and that is it.” 

Osric let out a bitter laugh, stepping back from (Y/N), “You will do your duty? You will not try to love her?” 

“It doesn’t matter-” 

“You will spend your life with this girl, (Y/N). You should try to find happiness in the marriage.” 

“I find my happiness with you, that is enough.” 

Osric laughed, shaking his head at the boy. “I am not coming with you (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) took a step toward the stable boy, once again taking his hands in his, “You could, say the word and I will take you with me.” 

“My place is here, (Y/N).” 

“And so is mine.” 

Osric smiled softly, “Yes, but your place is the future Lord of Runestone, mine is as a stable hand.” 

(Y/N) opened his mouth to retort but Osric continued on, “You knew this (Y/N), you have always known this. As you have always known you would have to marry some lady from a noble family and have children of your own to be future vale lords. 

“I do care for you (Y/N).” Osric placed his hand on the boy's cheek, “But our paths in life will never cross.” 

He placed a chaste kiss on (Y/N)’s cheek, “I wish you luck on your journey M’lord.” 

For the second time that night (Y/N) was left standing alone. 

The size of the host his grandsire had prepared was pitiful. There were maybe five of the household guards, the rest of the host made up of maids and serving boys. There was one carriage, if it could be called that, awaiting him in the yard. The rest of the transport consisted of wagons carrying chests and the guards' horses. 

“If my grandsire is insistent on sending me away, the least he could do is provide sufficient transport.” (Y/N) sneered, placing the last of his things into a wagon, and turning to Ser Gerold. 

Before his cousin could reply his father and grandsire entered the yard. Ser Gerold straightened, posture stiffening at the sight of The Rogue Prince. His father looked amused at the sight of his son by the wagons. 

‘He would take pleasure in this farce’, (Y/N) thought. 

“What are you doing?” His father smiled at him. 

“Packing my things.” (Y/N) replied, “I will need clothes in Kingslanding will I not?” 

His father laughed, a genuine laugh that made (Y/N) uneasy, “Funny. No, I mean why are you packing it into that?” 

“Where else would I put it?” (Y/N) furrowed his brow, he could not decipher the tone of his father’s words, but he did not appreciate being made a fool of. 

“With your horse.” Daemon replied, pointing his head in the direction of the stables where sure enough horses and a smaller wagon were being prepped, “You will be returning to Kingslanding with me.” 

‘With him?’ (Y/N) thought, looking to his grandsire for an explanation, ‘He cannot mean-’ 

“On dragon-back?” (Y/N) paled, “I cannot- but-” 

(Y/N) looked to his grandsire, seeing no surprise in his expression. Why would there be? The pitiful host was not to escort his heir but to escort the lesser of his belongings, he was getting a proper escort- a Targaryen dragon. 

“Unpack the most important things,” His father instructed, “The rest will reach Kingslanding later.” 

Then his father departed for the stables himself, leaving (Y/N) with his cousin and grandsire. 

“Goodluck cousin,” His cousin wrapped him in his arms, “We will await your return eagerly.” 

He smiled at his cousin as he released him, “Thank you, Gerold.” 

Ser Gerold ruffled his hair like he did when (Y/N) was a boy, and (Y/N) swatted at his hand. His cousin left laughing, taking some of (Y/N)’s chests with him over to the stables as he walked away. (Y/N) turned to his grandsire, who smiled at him, stepping close to his heir. 

“I am sad to see you go, my boy.” 

“I do not have to leave grandsire,” (Y/N) clasped his grandsire’s hands,“I can stay here.” 

“You and I both know that is no longer an option, (Y/N).” Yorbert eyes watered, he unraveled their hands, and placed his palm to his grandson’s smooth cheek, “I am sorry my boy, truly I am, but this is how it must be.” 

(Y/N) scoffed, trying to pull away. 

“Please,” Yorbert grasped him harder, preventing the teen from stalking away. “I do not wish to part ways with you angry at me, (Y/N). I need you to understand I had no choice, I cannot deny the king. But after this business, you will return to Runestone and this will all be in the past.” 

“This business is my marriage,” (Y/N) said, “I cannot leave that in the past.” 

“No, I suppose you cannot.” Yorbert sighed, releasing the teen. 

“I am still angry,” (Y/N) said, and Yorbert nodded. 

“I-” 

“But I understand why you did it.” He was still impossibly angry at his grandsire, but he knew how long his business in Kinglanding could take, and he did not wish to part for so long on ill terms. Yorbert smiled, hugging his grandson. He placed a frail hand on the back of (Y/N)’s head, confirming to (Y/N) that he made the right choice.

“That is all I can ask for.” 

He and Daemon departed with few riders accompanying them. Daemon brought little with him to Runestone, all of his things placed in his horse’s saddlebags. He looked smug atop his horse, too smug for (Y/N)’s liking and he yearned to knock the white-haired man from his horse. All thoughts of his anger disappeared as they approached Caraxes, quickly replaced with trepidation. 

Caraxes roared, his breath blowing (Y/N)’s hair in all directions and (Y/N) halted his horse. He stared at the large red beast, eyes wide and heart pounding in his chest. The workers, as nervous as he was, transferred his things from the wagon to the dragon’s saddlebags as (Y/N) stood there motionless. 

He watched his father approach the beast, placing his hand atop his snout, his father seemed to whisper to Caraxes before motioning for (Y/N) to approach. 

“Come,” Daemon said, eyes uncharacteristically soft. 

(Y/N) dismounted, approaching The Blood Wyrm with trepidation. Caraxes shifted, eyes peering dangerously into the young prince’s eyes, causing (Y/N) to freeze in place; just a few feet away from the beast. Daemon whispered comfort to the dragon, urging his son closer. 

“Give him your hand, he won’t hurt you,” Daemon smiled. “You are a dragon lord, (Y/N). Remember that.” 

“I have never touched a dragon, father, let alone ridden one.” (Y/N) stepped closer, hand shaking as he placed it close to the red dragon's snout. Caraxes stiffened, sniffing the hand, before sighing contently and placing the tip of his nose to the boy's hand, not unlike a cat. He smiled softly to himself at the thought. 

Daemon was pleased, that much was obvious by the look on his face, “You are a dragon (Y/N), no matter what you wish to believe.” 

---

Translations:

“Kostā deny ziry tresy, yn iksā hae olvie iā zaldrīzes hae aōha ancestors.”  - "You may deny it, son, but you are as much a dragon as your ancestors."

[missglaskin]

i feel like Otto would use Daemon and Rhaenyra’s secret wedding, mere days after their partners funerals, as the sole ammunition to have Rhaenyra disinherited and second-born!Reader named the Princess of Dragonstone after Otto reminds Viserys the sole reason Rhaenyra was chosen was to prevent Daemon from having the throne. and Alicent will begin planting the seeds of a doubt in Viserys mind that some may not want a the Reader on a throne because she’s adopted but if she married Aegon, the firstborn son, she wouldn’t be contested. that Aegon was better fitted as a consort anyways.

and the Velaryons have mixed feelings about the whole ordeal because Corlys really wanted his blood on the throne but Rhaenys believes the reader will be a much better ruler.

she’s kind of like the “peoples princess” if that makes sense. from a young age she began serving as the king’s cupbearer, allowing her the opportunity to watch the council work, and even there were times when she spoke up. advocating on behalf of the servants for better living conditions or pushing for repairs on the sewage system underneath the city.

not even Rhaenyra could deny that the reader would make a good queen but there’s some resentment directed to her father, angry he still won’t accept that she loves Daemon and there confusion as she watches Daemon wrap a beautiful necklace around the reader’s neck

I apologize for the long haitus, I wanted to return with something so here it is.

The plot just thickens

Before Daemon and Rhaenyra secret wedding, Alicent was already sowing seeds of doubt in Viserys's mind (the reader doesn't have any bastards, last she checked but even so it doesn’t count).And it would be a great irony if Viserys sent Otto away thinking he wanted Aegon to be king (which might be partially true), when in reality it’s the reader he desired to be in the throne. With Lyonel's death, and Rhaenyra's decision to move to Dragonstone with Laenor despite wanting to stay with her sister. Otto and Alicent are only given a better advantage to continue casting doubt on Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra and Daemon's marriage seals the deal, and soon after, they are summoned by a raven from King's Landing.

While the Velaryons may have mixed feelings, they are all in support of the reader in being the chosen heir. It’s Rhaenys who encourages Corlys’ decision to swear his fealty to her. It doesn’t help that Rhaenys believes Rhaenyra and Daemon are the cause for her son’s death and them marrying right after Laena’s death only adds salt to the wound. Rhaenys genuinely believes the reader will be a much better ruler. 

When the reader is named heir, there is one final step for both Alicent and Otto to ensure her position (or as they like to say). So it comes as little surprise when the reader is revealed to be wed to Aegon. She already has gained a great deal of knowledge regarding politics throughout the years she was compelled to relocate to accommodate the entire family, from Driftmark to King's Landing to Dragonstone. Alicent and Otto took a step further in letting the reader act as the king's cupbearer, and Viserys naturally agreed. Unlike Rhaenyra who felt undermined in the council, the reader isn't cut off when advocating for herself, rather, she's backed by the green council. 

As you mentioned, she has earned the title of the "people's princess” through her charity, her advocacy for improved living conditions for the castle's servants as well insistence on repairing the sewage systems and for better roads. Tales abound in the city about the princess who visits orphanages, escorted, of course, by the finest knights, among them Ser Criston Cole. With all of that, simply wedding the reader to Aegon, already wins him favor at king's landing, besides, it's evident to the court that it's the reader who holds all the power.

It's an internal struggle for Rhaenyra; she feels waves of resentment and anger, sometimes aimed at her father and other times at the reader. But, she can never take the reader's actions personally, not after she offers Rhaenyra dragonstone or when she vows to make her the hand when she ascends the iron throne. So how can she ever be genuinely upset at her beloved sister whom she also thinks would make a wonderful queen?

And for Daemon, whom she observes draping a beautiful necklace—akin to the one he gave her years ago—around her sister's neck. She observes as her ever naive sister turns to face him, beaming as thanks him for the gift.

And for Daemon who she watches wrapping a beautiful necklace around her sister’s neck, similar to the one he gifted her a long time ago. She watches as her sister turns to him, beaming and thanking him for the gift, her sister so naive and innocent. But it won’t be long before Viserys catches wind of it, and if not him, Otto and Alicent will and this is the last thing they ever wish to happen. For they know, no matter how many times they Banish Daemon, he will always find his way to return to your side.