#Rider Class Servant
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Rider class Andromeda for the Fate Grand Order event Valentine 2024 - Beyond the Chocolate River -
Illustrator: lack.
#andromeda#rider#rider class#rider servant#servant#fate servant#fate series#fate go#fgo#fate grand order#game#mobile game#fate#official art#typemoon#TYPE-MOON#type moon#fate/ grand order#character art#art#official illustrator#official artist#official illustration#lasengle#lack#fate character#event#game event#valentine event#illustrator
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So... I think I might like the Rider class
#fate grand order#fgo#fate#fate go#fate series#rider servant#rider class#tier list#queen medb#medb#quetzalcoatl#marie antoinette#blackbeard#brobeard#Youtube
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And last of the main servant class and pseudo servants is Himiko Toga with the divine spirit of Sun Wukong. Weren't expecting something like this huh? I think it turned out okay seeing how both Toga and Sun can both shapeshift into different people, not to mention's fate's version of Sun Wukong is a seeker of battle and Toga is a into blood, so why not combine the two together, no? Having the main servant class taken care off, now it's time to do the extra classes which are Ruler, Avenger, MoonCancer, Alter Ego, Pretender, and Foreigner classes.
#mha#himiko toga#fgo#pseudo servant#sun wukong#crossover#great sage equaling heaven#rider class#rider servant
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Thinking about that old man again (<- is going to put him through situations)
#get ready fuckers#imagine being waver velevet and instead of summoning rider you summon an old man who can and will be punching his enemies out despite being#a lancer classed servant#Kiwiki Speaks
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fgo skill gems my beloathed </3
#im low on saber and rider gems of all types AND i still havent leveled up a lot of ruler/mooncancer/alterego servants' skills for a while bc#they all require other classes' gems...this is hell#god ik it's bc i don't have the energy to drag myself thru free quests to obtain them unless it's an event but yea....sigh#lulas's rants#lulas's randomness#negative /////#juuuust in case orz
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@ardenssolis replied ; STOPSTOSTOP YOUR TAGS AND THIS IMAGE LOOOOOOOL
/ OOHHHHHH SHI.... THEN U WILL HATE THIS-
#ardenssolis#after getting rayshifted; the m.aster no longer has to take 49857485 years to reach their destination#he's a rider class servant but-#when there's no sea and there's no other option#that's the explanation why they are out there saying hello to the world#it's for these extreme situations u know!!#m.aster stopping the s.ervants from questioning the methods: wait; let him c o o k.#this is the sort of insanity that would happen in an event OIEYRTRYI
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i can’t include all of the classes since there are only so many poll choices available, but here are the more basic ones. ^-^
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The Price of Pride (4/?)
[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]
[ warnings: fingering & oral sex, a kind of triangle, smut, the angst, description of the effects of murder, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]
[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
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The boy's death had devastated her.
Even though it was a strange child to her, in addition from a family she despised, it was still small and innocent – she had seen Prince Jaehaerys accompanied by servants escorting him to his morning classes when she herself had gone out to meet his uncle, to practice on Vhagar the commands as she did every day.
Knowing that her father had done this made her feel a partial sense of guilt for what had happened, though she did not understand why.
Was it because she was born of his poisoned seed?
That a part of him lived inside her?
She knew it was revenge for Lucerys' death, but after all, the little prince had nothing to do with it.
The death of an innocent being always hurt the most.
She watched his funeral procession from outside the windows of the Red Keep, from her prison that was her small chamber, thinking of her one-eyed cousin.
Were you with that fucking old whore whose tits you like to cuddle up to?
With your second mummy?
She didn't know why his lowered head, his face and big eye filled with tears of shame made her feel sympathy towards him.
However, the death of King's son made her reflect on her own life and what she had experienced in it.
She realised that she had lived for years as if in lethargy, spending her time riding horses and hunting, even though in the midst of her family, in fact always remaining alone.
She realised that she had never even kissed a man.
She had never experienced a touch that was tender, that was pleasurable, that made her feel safe.
She bit her lower lip, pacing around her room, suddenly getting an idea that was extremely dangerous.
Her cousin was interested in women – this she knew for sure – and after being humiliated by his brother in front of everyone gathered he would certainly not return to the brothel to his lover, whoever she was.
From what she understood, this woman was older than him, giving him fulfilment not only physically, but also purely childlike.
She knew he was weak, but now she also had the certainty that he was miserable.
She couldn't try to seduce him directly, offer to spend the night in his bed – he would send her away immediately, furious, knowing what she wanted to do and how she hoped to achieve it.
She had to show him what he could have, while at the same time not offering it to him herself.
She had to make him desire whatever she was in his mind.
"I want to ask you something, cousin." She muttered, standing over him with a jug of wine, wondering what she was doing. "And I know you won't like it."
She saw him freeze, looking ahead.
"You like to take risks, don't you?" He sneered, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet without even bestowing a single glance on her.
His vision was hazy, his mind dulled by the wine.
He was weak, vulnerable, heartbroken by what had happened to his nephew, sunk in guilt.
This was her chance.
"No, but you give me no choice. I will fly with you and the will of the gods will happen, as you desire. However, the chance of me dying in flames or being devoured is just as great as the chance of me succeeding." She said uncertainly, and he sighed heavily, impatient, setting his cup down on the table.
"What do you want?"
She licked her lower lip, feeling her heart pounding like mad in her chest, cold sweat trickling down her back.
He would fall into a fury or fuck her, there was no other option left.
"Servant. I want to choose one and take him to my bed. I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations." She muttered.
She saw that he froze motionless, his healthy eye open wide in shock.
Oh gods.
"Aren't you ashamed to ask something like that out loud? What self-respecting Lord will want you after this?" He asked coldly, annoyed, however it was not as aggressive a response as she had expected.
He himself didn't know what he thought of it, she thought.
Good.
"I don't care what the lords will think of me. If I become a dragon rider, my maidenhood will be the least of their worries. I have no desire to become either a wife or a mother. I could try to hide it from you, but I stand here before you and ask your permission like a dog." She said with a certainty that surprised her, recognising that her directness was due to the fact that she was partly telling the truth.
He was silent for a long time, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his finger in some involuntary reflex began to tap against the table top.
"Knowing what you ask, my soul will have no peace unless I am assured that no man has taken you by force."
There it is.
"I'll let you watch if it will soothe your conscience." She said without stammering, his grin turned towards her making her feel an uncomfortable shiver.
"It will."
Finding a willing person turned out not to be too difficult: she simply lied to the man she found handsome that the prince liked to look at such things and that it was his idea.
What could he do to her for those words even if he found out about it?
Were they not partly true?
Her whole body quivered in excitement and disbelief as, lying beneath Tyland Lannister's servant, she heard his lazy footsteps, felt his gaze on them, the fiery, thirsty lips of her lover pressed against hers.
It was a surprisingly wet and slick experience, not as pleasurable as she had imagined, however, it was not all that bad.
She swallowed hard, hearing her cousin sit down in a chair in the distance, and flinched when the man's hand suddenly clamped down on her breast, causing an unpleasant chill to pass through her.
"– no –" She whispered, tightening her hand on his wrist. "– not yet –"
She exhaled quietly, closing her eyes as she felt him take his hand away, trailing it instead around her waist, trying to feel what she had felt when her cousin had leaned over her face after she had fainted.
Serve me well and I will reward you.
When the time comes.
She felt it, that wonderful pulsing between her thighs, and sighed, opening her eyelids, involuntarily glancing at him. Her breath froze in her throat, her womanhood swelled all over as she met his gaze, dark and hot, his legs crossed, his head cocked in curiosity.
She gasped, feeling a squeeze in her throat and a cold shudder when the boy's body suddenly pressed her against the bed, constricting her space, making her fingers tighten on the back of his tunic in terror.
Is this how it should be?
Should she be so afraid, feel so cornered?
"– slow down –" She heard his voice, deep and displeased – her lover looked at him, surprised, panting heavily.
"– Your Highness? –"
"– slow down, I said –" He repeated with a kind of threat in his voice from which her lips parted in disbelief, some sense of gratitude and warmth spread through her heart, a pleasant stickiness sweeping from between her thighs down her buttocks.
He was protecting her, she thought, feeling the situation begin to slip out of her control.
This was exactly what she wanted.
Make me feel safe, she thought pleadingly, but no words left her lips.
Shame overwhelmed her.
"– sink your fingers between her thighs – prepare her properly –" He instructed the boy, her eyes grew big as she stared at him in disbelief – his nostrils twitched in excited breath, the corner of his mouth lifted in a dangerous smirk.
A sigh left her throat as the servant lifted her skirt and smallclothes, her gaze fixed on her cousin's face as his hand found her leaking, fleshy womanhood.
She moaned.
However, after a moment she flinched and swallowed hard, closing her eyes as she felt his fingers touch a very tender, sensitive spot, giving her pleasure and pain at the same time, not knowing what she herself felt, tears burning under her eyelids.
Why did it feel like this?
Why couldn't she enjoy it, why was she losing focus?
"– step back, boy –" She heard his voice, and then noticed that he moved towards them, startling her and him – she rose up on her elbows, panting heavily as he pulled her forward, sitting behind her back, pulling her close, his legs on either side of her body.
His arms embraced her lightly, his hand tilting her head back, allowing her to spread out comfortably while not taking away her sense of security.
She swallowed hard, feeling something long and hard pulsate behind her, pressing against her buttocks.
Good gods.
She gasped as she felt him press his nose against her hot cheek, his thumb running over her jaw as his free hand forced her to bend her legs at the knees, exposing her bare thighs.
"– bend over and lick her –" He commanded, running his full lips over the skin of her face, making her feel a simultaneous shudder of pleasure and terror shake her, his hand trailing down the exposed skin of her thigh.
Lick her?
What did he mean by that?
What purpose did it serve?
"– what? –" She mumbled, terrified, involuntarily reaching back with her hand, clamping it over his long white hair, wanting to pull away, hitting his hard body again.
She had nowhere to run.
"– easy – let me take care of this –" He whispered in her ear, making her moan stuck in her throat, her nipples became hard at his words, her throbbing walls clenching around nothing.
Let me take care of this.
He knew.
He knew what she craved.
She stifled a breath as the man obediently leaned between her thighs, a terrified, pathetic, surprised moan escaping her throat when she felt something warm and sticky slip between her tight, swollen slit.
His tongue.
She clenched her hand harder in his white hair, feeling her cousin's hand slide down her leg, to the very spot her lover had touched earlier – this time, however, she didn't feel the unpleasant pain as his fingertips merely circled around her oversensitive little bud, causing her to leak, stimulated from the inside and outside.
"– ah – oh, gods, t-too much, too much –" She mewled in despair as she tried to pull away from him, never having experienced a similar sensation before, he, however, held her in an iron grip, his free hand sliding from her face under the material of her gown, to her breasts.
"– you wanted it yourself – go on –" He said matter-of-factly in a way that sent a shiver through her – she tilted her head back, feeling the servant's tongue accelerate, forcing its way again and again deep inside her hot, throbbing cunt.
In some subconscious, involuntary reflex, she sought refuge, not knowing what to do with the waves of tickling pleasure and tension that were rising in her body, so she turned her face towards him and he leaned in, letting their foreheads touch.
For some reason she wanted to cry.
He was so close.
The gentle touch of his hand between her thighs, his thumb teasing lazily her hard nipple, his hot breath on her face, his embrace was too familiar, too safe.
"– if only you were my little sister – I'd caress you like this every night – would you like it? –" He breathed out encouragingly, and she shuddered all over in his arms, feeling her lover's tongue hit the sweet spot inside her again and again, her and her cousin's hips beginning to rub against each other, his manhood unashamedly hard and swollen.
If only you were my little sister.
I want this, she thought.
I want to be what you want me to be.
"– what would your father say at the sight of this – hm? – do you think he would be proud? –" He whispered, sinking his fingers into the throbbing folds of her moist womanhood, weeping with desire, teasing with lazy, slow circles her little bud.
She felt tears under her eyelids as she shook her head.
She didn't know.
She didn't know what her father would say to this sight.
He wasn't there for her.
He hadn't protected her.
"– you like it, don't you? – I can feel you're close – come on his face –" He exhaled and she shook her head, moaning from exertion, feeling something approaching, the tingling tension between her thighs unbearable, her breath heavy and hitched, droplets of sweat running down her skin.
"– g-gods, stop –" She mumbled out with difficulty, feeling that she couldn't take it any longer, and then she was shaken by a pleasure foreign and overpowering, hot and sweet, flowing in waves through her whole body, her lips, her nipples, her fingertips, her silken walls clenching around nothing.
For a moment she heard or saw nothing, heard his soothing whisper, his warm breath enveloping her face, his hands closed over her womanhood and over her breasts just continued to press against her skin, allowing her to calm down.
"You may leave. If you tell anyone about this, I will cut your tongue out." She heard his cold voice, but knew it wasn't meant for her – the man lying between her thighs had risen and simply stepped off the bed, leaving them alone, and she sighed loudly, as if she had just accomplished some extraordinary, demanding feat.
She didn't know why she had sought refuge in his embrace, why she had turned in his arms and snuggled into his body, burying her face in his neck, why she had felt nothing but peace as one of his hands lay on her back while the other slowly stroked her hair.
One by one tears ran down her cheeks, shame, relief and sadness spilling over her heart, making her only able to lie down and breathe. She closed her eyes, concentrating on his scent, the warmth of his body that pulsed almost imperceptibly, his manhood pushing against her stomach, his hands trailing gently over her body.
She thought that he was certainly proud of himself, but she decided that it didn't matter.
She needed his arms, she needed to hide, to disappear, to melt into him as one, not to think, not to feel, not to exist.
She fell asleep.
When she awoke, it was late afternoon – there was no one in the chamber but her, however, she knew it was not a dream.
Her bedding was soaked with his scent.
She wasn't sure who had benefited from what had happened. She decided, however, surprised by this discovery, that she did not regret it and did not intend to think about it again.
It had never happened.
As he had ordered, she was already ready before dawn, waiting for him in the courtyard in her riding attire, his mother, clearly displeased with his idea, tried to stop him, to his apparent annoyance.
"You cannot leave the Red Keep without Vhagar. Who will protect us?" She asked, and her son rolled his eyes, impatient, licking his lower lip.
"I leave you in the care of Sunfyre and Dreamfyre. May my brother be of some use for once. With the help of the gods, we will return in about four days with a new dragon on our side." He said and stepped around her, mounting his horse and nodding at her to do the same.
When they reached Vhagar's lair, the dragoness raised lazily her large head, looking at them curiously – having seen her almost every day, she had already become accustomed to her presence and scent, remaining calm.
"Come." He said, and she moved to follow him, seeing that he had taken in his hands some of the bags his horse had been carrying on its back earlier.
She walked behind him, never coming this close to her, watching as the prince tied the grey bags to the ropes hanging from the saddle.
"What are you waiting for? Climb up." He said, glancing at her impatiently, and she nodded, surprised by his directness.
They both had no intention of showing that what had happened had affected them in any way.
Being with him meant a constant battle for dominance.
So be it, she thought and glanced up, sighing quietly.
She was afraid that Vhagar would not be happy that someone other than her rider was trying to climb onto her back, she, however, merely tilted her head towards her and watched her, not moving from her place.
"Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī." Her cousin reassured her as she, panting heavily, climbed with great difficulty over one of the ropes to her very back and sat down in the large leather saddle.
She blinked as her cousin appeared at her side shortly afterwards, as if covering the same distance hadn't caused him any trouble, and sat behind her, pulling the bags up, using the ropes so that they weren't hanging down.
She grunted, leaning forward, hugging the front of the saddle, feeling him all too clearly, his body pressed against her buttocks and back. She shuddered as he slipped his hands under her shoulders, grabbed a couple of the front ropes and called out loudly.
"Sōvēs!"
She squealed, terrified, hugging the saddle as the dragoness suddenly rose up on her paws, moving forward with a loud thump, and closed her eyes as she spread her great wings and flapped them, struggling to slowly lift herself into the air.
She had never experienced something so terrifying and liberating at the same time.
It wasn't until Vhagar had stabilised her flight and was gliding through the heavens that she dared to open her eyes – she froze in awe, seeing clouds all around her, doing what other people could only dream of.
Indeed, there was something wonderful about it, she thought with delight.
In the freedom that flight in the skies offered.
She leaned against the front of the saddle, simply looking ahead with a smile, watching the sun rise in the distance. She drew in a loud breath, feeling her heart beat harder as his cheek pressed against hers, apparently resting in this position.
She felt his erection pushing against her buttocks again, but neither of them spoke.
It was just a man's natural reaction to a woman's closeness, nothing more, she thought.
She knew he was playing with her – she knew he already understood what she wanted.
What she needed.
Tenderness.
Care.
Shelter.
This was why he nuzzled his nose into her cheek, why he persisted in this position: he wanted to break her, wanted her to love what he could be for her.
She felt tears under her eyelids, her eyebrows arching in pain knowing that it was all just a lie.
Her father would never come back for her, and even if he did, it would only be for the sake of the dragon, if she could tame it.
But not for her.
She was of no value to either of them.
As they landed with a thud on the ground in the middle of a wasteland full of hills, evening was approaching. It was only when she opened her eyes, horrified by how intense the landing itself had been, that she realised that her cousin had not chosen this place without reason.
He must have noticed from above what she could see clearly now – vast expanses of black, scorched earth with dozens of animal skeletons.
She shuddered as she heard her cousin untie the bags they had taken with them, letting them fall to the ground, and after a moment he slid down the rope to the bottom, landing lightly on the ground himself.
"Come here."
She made big eyes, feeling that this height terrified her. She swallowed hard, turning her back, grabbing the line and squealed as she suddenly slid down it with far too much speed, thinking she was just going to kill herself.
She gasped as she felt someone's arms soften her fall, supporting her, his impatient sigh told her it was not a graceful jump.
"Get yourself together. We're going to recon. It's fresh tracks, it must not be far." He said, and she nodded, feeling her legs grow all stiff from the long hours of travelling in the saddle.
Her cousin looked around, as if trying to remember this place and how they were supposed to get back here, then moved ahead quickly, making her have to almost run after him.
"When we find it. What should I do? Approach it right away?" She exhaled, following him step by step.
"Mmm. No, you'd better not do anything rash. No sudden movements. You can't make a mistake." He said coldly, and she swallowed hard, thinking in the back of her mind that it was easy for him to say.
However, despite all the absurdity of the situation, she felt excitement.
If she succeeded, she would return to King's Landing on the back of her own dragon.
They climbed one of the peaks, from which they could see clearly in the distance the lying silhouette of Vhagar, the fields, hills and valleys, but not a trace of the dragon. Her cousin pressed his lips together, frustrated.
He thought this would be easier, and the dragon would come to them on its own, she thought with a sneer, but she dared not provoke him, knowing that they were both tired.
"We must turn back. It will be dark soon. We will start tomorrow before sunrise, moving in the opposite direction." He ordered and she nodded, following obediently behind him, looking around at the familiar landscapes.
She had an advantage over him here, she thought.
She knew these places, she knew these people.
So why didn't she feel the need to run away?
When they returned to Vhagar's liege, darkness surrounded them. Her cousin had picked up a few long, thick branches on the way, and when they sat down on the grass he laid them down and lit a fire using a flint he had taken from one of his bags.
She did not ask his permission, which did not escape his notice as she untied one of them and began rummaging through it.
"What are you doing?" He asked matter-of-factly, adding wood to the fire, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
"What did you take for us as nourishment?" She answered with a question to a question, causing him to merely turn his face away from her, trying to control himself for sure and not hurt her with his own hands.
"Bread and smoked meat." He said, and she sighed, pulling out a waterskin with spring water, drinking a few deep sips from it.
"If I had known that this would be our sustenance for the next few days, I would have asked you to bring a bow with us and I would have provided our meal myself." She said regretfully, and his face turned abruptly towards her.
"You don't need to eat. You will survive on water alone until our return to King's Landing." He hissed, meeting her tired, weary gaze.
"I have cooked many times while hunting with my uncle. It's a useful skill." She replied, pulling a woollen blanket from the pouch with which she covered herself.
Although Vhagar lay beside them, they were high between the hills where a strong, chilly wind was blowing.
She knew the night would be difficult.
Her cousin no longer spoke to her, gazing into the flames as if he could see something in them, his past or his future, his silhouette sitting on the Iron Throne or his fall from the heavens.
Finally, he lay down on the uncomfortably hard ground, placing one of his bags under his head, covering himself with the other blanket, and turned his back to her.
They couldn't sleep too close to Vhagar, for there was a risk that she would simply crush them by turning in her sleep. Therefore, they had to lie at a great distance from her, and their only source of heat was the fire.
She closed her eyes, trying not to think as her teeth began to chatter, her body trembling, her hands clenched into fists with each stronger gust of wind.
If this kept up, they'd both wake up with a fever.
"I'm cold." She said.
Silence.
A long one.
"I'm really cold. Aren't you?" She mumbled, guessing that he was suffering as much as she was, but would sooner die than admit it.
Targaryens and their fucking pride.
She stood up and walked a few steps with her blanket towards him, causing him to have exactly the reaction she wanted – he raised himself on his elbow and looked towards her, his jaw clenched in frustration.
"You have no shame."
"I don't care about shame. I'm supposed to die in dragon fire, not from the cold." She said and lay down beside him, slipping under his blanket, covering them with the other to create a thicker layer to protect them from the cold.
He slumped to the ground, letting the air out loudly, looking up at the stars as if he had given up. She embraced him, but not because she sought safety in his arms, but because he was a source of warmth that she wanted to cling to at all costs, hugging her face to his chest.
They stayed like that in silence, not moving – at first his whole body was tense, as if he thought that what she had done was just an excuse for her to slip her hand under his breeches and shamelessly try to seduce him – he relaxed, however, when he realised that all she really wanted was to lie in the warmth, and since he himself apparently felt better, also warmed by her presence, he said nothing more.
"What did you feel when you tamed Vhagar?" She whispered, looking ahead at the outline of the hills and mountains around them, feeling the cool breeze on her cheeks.
She was sure he wouldn't answer and felt herself begin to slowly fall asleep when she heard his quiet voice.
"Relief."
She blinked, surprised, not expecting him to put it this way.
Relief.
"Why?" She dared to ask further, still not looking at him, his heart hidden beneath the material of his tunic and cloak hit hard.
"I gave my family a reason to be proud." He explained, a note of bitterness in his words, as if something in that memory was painful to him.
She pressed her lips into a thin line, thinking with disappointment that she had never been anyone's pride.
Nothing she did mattered – not really.
She felt a single, lone tear run down her cheek onto the material of his leather coat and inhaled loudly, saying nothing more.
She shuddered, pulled out of her reverie when he slided his arm out from between their bodies – she froze when she felt him embrace her, cuddling her into his body, his fingers running through her soft hair as his cheek rested against her forehead.
She snuggled into him, into the merciless substitute of a protector he was to her, feeling the warmth in her chest as he let her face sink into his neck.
She knew that a part of him sympathised with her – she knew that, like her, he understood that in a day or two she might die for his cause, and so in some twisted definition of duty he tried to give her what she had craved all her life as a consolation prize for what she might lose.
It was so pathetic that she clenched her eyes shut and let heavy tears of shame run down her cheeks, her breath hitched and heavy, filled with pain.
She let him do this, let him take advantage of her desperation, the fact that she wanted so much to satisfy his vanity, because of how unavailable he reminded her of her father – by satisfying him, in her mind she was satisfying the man on whose lap she had sat as a small child, imagining that he had given her a second chance.
He created a lie for her to be able to endure what he was condemning her to.
"If you succeed. If you tame a dragon." He whispered, and she froze, feeling that he was about to reveal something vital to her, some secret he had never told anyone. "I will treat you like my little sister. I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side."
She shook her head, thinking how cruel he was, knowing exactly what to say, what to do to break her heart, to bend her to his will, to make sure she never betrayed him.
She cried out helplessly as he hugged her tighter to his body, as he cupped her cheek in his broad palm, rough from wielding his sword, and pressed his forehead against hers in a gesture that was too intimate, too tender, too sweet.
"I will protect you."
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Headcanon/Theory/Concept/Etc Concerning Dragons in the World of Ice and Fire:
The ancient Valyrian blood magic system for taming dragons does increase the general affinity of those of Valyrian descent for dragons. In this case, the general affinity is non-specific. Because Valyria was a slave empire and most menial tasks were handled by members of the lower classes, a lot of dragon handling and care (feeding, cleaning the pits, assisting in training, etc) like what we see the servants of the Dragon Pits in canon doing, would have still been handled by slaves and servants in Valyria itself. If you don't want to be constantly replacing staff all the time, and losing experienced/skilled personnel to random fits of dragon temper, it's best if all if your people have some affinity for dragon handling regardless of rank. So whatever the Valyrian blood mages did, they did it to the whole populace.
But then, how to ensure that only your upper classes are actually taming and riding dragons? After all, you're a slave owning prick who doesn't want your staff stealing dragon eggs to raise in secret and use as part of some violent uprising against you. You'll want some kind of security measure to make that less feasible.
Enter the weird and (in the future) inscrutable "dragon affinity" system. The blood mages find a way to basically encode certain types of dragons so that they will strongly favor specific bloodlines. This system, in turn, is passed among the dragons themselves via their bloodlines. Which basically binds certain lineages of dragons to certain lineages of Valyrian houses. Like say you have Ancient Targaryens living in their Valyrian holdings, and they have Balerion's grandma in their dragon stables. They want to make sure that none of their slaves can steal any of her eggs and eventually become a dragon rider. There's no 100% foolproof method of doing that, since dragons are still somewhat inscrutable. But, you can drastically decrease the odds of success by making Targaryen blood significantly more appealing to Dragon Meemaw and her offspring. As a bonus, this also makes it less likely for the rival dragon riding houses to claim another house's dragons, too.
But there's a bit of a flaw in this system (which is probably the only solution that can be deployed by use of blood-related magics): noble houses tend to intermarry. Obviously, there are a distinct lack of political advantages to marrying commoners, so the Valyrian dragon riding houses would have preferred to marry among themselves and/or powerful foreign rulers. But this means that after a certain point, everyone is related. The magic doesn't care about surnames or paperwork, it cares about blood. So let's say you're Ancient Dragon Lord Targaryen and you marry one of your younger kids off to a different dragon rider house. Their kids are, genetically, still as Targaryen as your direct heir's kids.
So after a while you're still locking out the slaves and servants from being able to tame dragons, but you're not locking out your rival houses. You're losing that perk. Which may not seem all that important at first, but as we witnessed with the Dance, civil wars between dragon riders can get extremely messy, and a lot of it can often come down to posturing about who has the most and/or strongest dragons. So it probably wouldn't take long before various dragon riding houses were wanting to ensure that their dragons were restricted to their actual house, and that their rivals couldn't sneak in and reduce their dragon numbers by claiming dragons from their stock. (You'd think containing the dragons might solve that, but dragons are a bit hard to contain, really.)
Hence, the rise of inbreeding. You try and make sure your house's main lines especially have a higher percentage of "Targaryen" blood, and that none of your rivals have any of it either. The downsides of incest are perhaps mitigated by the same blood mages who have been influencing things from the beginning, perhaps magically tweaking your genetics to reduce the odds of complications, and researching more ways to refine this blood-based system of locking others out of ever accessing your power.
But I imagine that the system required maintaining. There are still going to be times when it's more advantageous to form alliances than to keep your dragons strictly controlled, after all, not to mention limits to how much inbreeding you can do even with magical intervention before shit's getting very Habsburg on you. Not to mention the dragons themselves can be tricky to control, and are less liable to understand the political motivations for not mixing their bloodlines with the perfectly attractive dragons several caves over, who belong to your rivals. Luckily, with Valyrian blood mages still around, you probably just need to pay through the nose to get someone to swing by every few generations and update the blood-based security codes. So to speak. Renew the magic binding your people to your dragons to account for all the drifting genetic nuances. So you don't necessarily need to be wedding siblings to one another every generation.
Except, after the Doom, all those blood mages are gone.
So on the one hand, the Targaryens no longer need to worry about rival dragon riders. Because they're (mostly) all dead. But on the other hand, there's no way to update the bloodline passwords on your dragons now. With each passing generation, you're going to lose some of your advantages for controlling them, unless you're inbreeding at a level that is going to severely limit your ability to make alliances and is going to, you know, completely fuck with your family dynamics for all foreseeable generations. Plus, since you're not a blood mage and this situation is kind of unprecedented, you probably don't really know how long the magic will be able to hold out against the variables of increased genetic diversity over the years. If you "thin" your bloodline too much, how long before you've got basically zero advantages in taming dragons compared to everyone else? Conversely, if the magic is really strong and remains true even through dozens of generations, does that mean you're granting the same advantages to every house you marry your extraneous kids out to over the years? Does a Baratheon have the exact same capacity to tame a dragon as a Targaryen?
So your choices are basically to let it go, to try and retain control over the dragons via culture and influence and knowledge instead of blood purity and incest, or, double down and prioritize power and control above all else and retain whatever you can from the old blood magics by committing to an unhinged level of inbreeding. And then just tell everyone else that it's totally normal for Valyrians and you're an exception to all the usual rules against marrying your siblings, it's a cultural thing, and totally sell that because 1) it's kind of true and 2) anybody with the authority to call you out on exaggerating has just met a mysterious-yet-fiery end via the Doom.
Basically, you consign your descendants to generations of dysfunction and insularity that is guaranteed to alienate them from any of the nearby cultures they might assimilate into, in exchange for increased (but not total!) control over all hypothetical future dragons. Then you destroy a lot of information about dragons so that it can never be stolen, so that no one else can ever learn that taming dragons without your blood is still entirely possible, just harder and more dangerous. (Then you spend the Century of Blood embroiled in a civil war where you kill off most of your dragons, but uh that part wasn't planned, probably.)
Anyway that's why I think the Targaryens are Like That, and why the dragons of the Dance get tamed in the way that they do. Seasmoke likes Addam because he's kin to Laenor, even without the Targaryen blood, there's enough Velaryon blood in the current Targaryens to make him familiar regardless. Sheepstealer and Nettles (should that happen at all like it did in Fire and Blood) just bonded the normal way, without the blood magic advantage. Generations later, Targaryen blood still yields an edge in interacting with Dany's dragons, but it's just that -- an advantage, not a requirement.
#hotd#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#house of the dragon#this is just pure speculation but it's what makes the most sense to me#like yeah there's something to that ancient blood magic#but it's less like an inborn superiority and more like having a fingerprint lock on your fighter jet#if you can bypass the lock it doesn't really matter#long post
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* DISSOLVE
pairing: cregan stark x targaryen!reader
summary: an unexpected visitor arrives at winterfell, cregan is surprised to say the least.
contains: 18+, fingering, p in v, afab!reader, she/her pronouns, biting(?) marking(?), masturbation, asks about consent all the way becasue thats cregan ok.
author's note: i was horny in class, you cant relate to my struggle as i wrote this. my comeback and its cregan because i dream about this man and i need him carnally... also pls forgive any mistakes yall know my first language its spanish so don't be mean and leave feedback if you liked it !! pls reblog !!! !!!!!!! also totally inspired by mi amor @fairysluna fic about targ!reader x cregan yall pls read it its GOD TIER. ok bye now pls enjoy !
Winterfell was.. nice.
Your dragon, The Bronze Fury, wasn't fond of the snowy wasteland you commanded him to fly on. He grumbled as he landed near the northern capital, clouds of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he let you dismount him carefully, as much as he hated the north, he couldn't be mad at his rider.
You petted Vemithor’s snout, his red eyes intently watching you and allowing it, because after all, you were his little human. “Obey, stay here.” Vermithor roared, complaining in his own way, you just laughed and waved him off as you made your way to the castle.
*
“Warden Stark, this is a matter of great urgency…”
Cregan stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the request of the Umber patriarch, a much older man who was filled with jealousy because Cregan was the Warden of the North and he wasn't, always mentioning it to the great council that was held once a month in the northern capital.
“My lord,” Cregan sighed, “I do not have time for this right now, you had your time for requesting when we were six hours in the council meeting earlier today.”
Lord Umber was about to speak again, smoke coming out his ears but was interrupted by the door of the Great Hall opening, a servant of the castle stepping in and announcing loudly;
“Princess Y/N Targaryen,” Cregan’s head snapped towards the doors, taking in the sight of you entering the Great Hall.
You were bundled up in heavy clothing to protect against the cold weather, wearing a thick fur-lined cloak over a long (but tight?) black dress with red accents, with the three-headed dragon sigil embroidered on your chest.
“Lord Umber, return to this conversation later,” Lord Umber's grumbles could be heard as he walked out quickly after bowing to you, leaving the two of you alone in the Great Hall.
As you walked towards Cregan, he could feel a blush starting on his cheeks.
“My lady.”
Cregan noticed a glint of amusement in your eyes as you spoke, it was almost a purr.
“Lord Cregan,” You raised an eyebrow, smirking, “I am not your lady, I am your princess.”
Cregan’s face turned redder, looking down for a second as if ashamed. “You are right, my princess. I have never before seen the princess of the realm and I was momentarily taken aback, forgetting your station,” He gulped, “I ask for your forgiveness, your highness.”
You chuckled, delighted. “Do not worry, my lord, we all make mistakes.”
He looked at you in awe, he never had seen a woman as beautiful as you, especially in this land of wolves. He felt like he was being pulled towards you as if he was a moth and you were the flame, taking steps towards you.
“Nice meeting you, Warden Stark.” You could tell he was nervous, hiding his shaky hands behind his back, standing straight.
He nodded, almost a bow, “What’s the Princess of Dragonstone doing in Winterfell if I may ask? It is rare to see a noble of the south in this frozen land, even rarer the Crown’s Princess.”
You chuckled softly, and Cregan couldn't feel more attracted to you now as he continued, “Is this an official visit? or did you just wake up with a desire to see my homeland?”
“A little of both,” Cregan raised an eyebrow at you, “I came on dragon back,”
He looks at you with a mix of awe and fear. Dragons have not been seen in the North for a long time, so the mere mention of one is enough to make him worry slightly. “Did you fly all the way here alone, princess? Or is there an entourage of guards, servants, and courtiers that I need to prepare for? I would not presume to let you see one of the great houses of the North without a proper welcoming, even if you are visiting unannounced.”
This made you giggle, and Cregan’s face kept getting warmer with each second passing. “I am alone, my lord.”
Cregan bowed, trying to hide his warm cheeks and of course, showing respect for your station and your valor for traveling alone in the frozen wastes of the North.
He straightened his back and looked into your lilac eyes, breathing softly trying to not get lost in them, “What would you wish to do here, my princess? I could arrange a meal, or a bath to warm up from the freezing weather? Or maybe you would like to talk?”
“A bath would be nice, my lord.” You gave him a wolfish grin, looking him up and down and making him gulp at the sight.
“I will have one prepared for you immediately.” Cregan walked towards the doors, calling a servant to get your bath ready as soon as possible in the guest chambers near his own, he turned around to talk to you but found you were walking around the room, intently watching the tapestries and paintings.
He watched you do this for a few minutes until a servant came back to inform him the bath was ready in the guest chambers, he came out of his trance watching you.
“My princess, the bath is ready for you,” You turned around grinning mischievously, “Is there anything else that I can do for you now? Anything at all?”
Cregan would learn a few seconds later that his words would turn against him.
“Perhaps you could join me?”
A wave of crimson washed over Cregan’s face, and you could see how your words were making sense in his head. What were you trying on him? Was the offer even real or just teasing on your part? He watched you with his jaw slightly dropped trying to think of a proper answer for you, the temptation was certainly great… to see a princess like that, to see you all bare, he could feel himself getting harder at the thought of your naked body, but… what will others think? You came to Winterfell alone, what could happen if others find out he was in your chambers all alone? The temptation was too great to resist it.
“Is this something you truly want, your highness?” Cregan swallowed, taking another step toward you, “Or am I being an object of teasing?”
You grinned widely, taking a step to meet him halfway putting a hand on his wide chest, “My lord, you know how stunning you are?”
Cregan couldn't spit the words out, too occupied focusing on the hand on his chest.
“I am very thankful for your hospitality, my lord,” His gaze fell into your wolfish grin and intense stare, “So I am extending an invitation of my own if you want it.”
*
Cregan found himself in your chambers, mad at himself for his weak resolve against the Targaryen temptress.
But all those feelings went away the moment you locked the door after entering the room behind him.
The bathtub in the middle of the room was big enough for two people, that was out of the question and Cregan wondered if the servants did this on purpose. You walked towards the bed near the fireplace, taking your fur cloak off and leaving it carefully on the mattress.
“Is this room to your liking, my princess?” Cregan said, watching you subtly.
“It is,” You nodded, slowly untying your dress, “Could you help me, my lord?” You turned around, watching him over your shoulder with a playful smile. “This dress is hard to take off on my own.”
Of fucking course.
Cregan made his way over you, his rough hands carefully untying the complicated part of your dress on your back. You could feel his fingers tracing your shoulder blade, now exposed to the warm air of the room thanks to the fireplace. “I can never take this off without my lady-in-waiting’s help.” You giggled, still watching him over your shoulder.
Cregan shook his head, amused by the fact you were gonna need help to take this off in any case, thankful it was him this time. He waited for you to move first, removing his hands gently.
He took a step backward, “You may undress as you wish, my princess. It would be rude of me to stare while you are getting in and out of the tub.” You turned around to face him, your dress falling off your shoulders as he spoke, “I will keep my eyes lowered.”
Cregan’s gaze fell to the ground, his hands again behind his back, anxiously playing with his thumb.
“My lord.” You purred, “I don’t mind, you can look if you wish.”
He splutters, his gaze still glued down to the floor, shocked by your words but his traitorous eyes wander back to your figure, he gasps when he sees how your dress is no longer on your shoulders, now hanging low on your waist and your chest bare.
“M-my princess… this is not appropriate…” He exhales shakily, his eyes glued to your chest not able to look away now.
You roll your eyes, chuckling softly, “I don’t mind, my lord, I am not ashamed of my body.”
Cregan’s jaw drops, your words sending shivers to his spine, and his uniform pants getting tighter. You have the confidence of a queen and beauty to match it.
“Then allow me,” He takes a look up and down at your form as you continue to remove your garments.
“Like what you see, pup?”
Your words make Cregan freeze on his spot near the bathtub, his eyes roaming crazily over your body, now fully bare to him. You walk towards him, stepping slowly on the hot water until it’s reaching your thighs.
“Words cannot describe what I’m feeling, your highness.” He exhales shakily, “I am merely a northern wolf awed by a dragon’s beauty and power.”
You chuckle, sitting down on the tub, the water reaching your breasts, “You flatter me, pup.”
He looks at you stunned, you seem unbothered by the scalding hot water as you sit looking at him expectantly. He has no words to describe what’s going on inside his head, the Crown’s Princess is bathing in front of the Warden of the North as if there were no one else in the world, he's only able to stare at you in awe, his eyes shining with a glint of lust.
He stumbles on his next words, “W-what should I do now, your highness?”
“Join me.”
He only can nod and starts to remove his clothes immediately, showing no humility or shame at being naked in front of the princess, your confident self giving him confidence.
He realizes what he's about to do, “You’re not offended by my nakedness?”
You raise an eyebrow at him, amused, “Why would I be offended? You’re beautiful.”
Men are rarely complimented by their beauty, something Cregan doesn't experience as much, and you can tell this by the way his face lits up and blushes hard, turning away from your amused gaze and feeling slightly bashful.
He takes a deep breath and steps into the bathtub, the water is almost too hot for his liking but he seats behind you without any complaints. He is facing your back and he has to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.
“Shall I wash you, my princess? Or shall I merely enjoy the view?” The moments those words left his mouth his face was plagued by a crimson blush, not believing that he could mutter that out loud.
He heard you chuckle, turning your head to the side but not all the way so he could appreciate your side profile as you spoke, “Whatever you want,”
He scooted closer to you, keeping all his lower body and his not-that-hard (a lie) cock away from your ass. Still half in disbelief, the princess herself telling him to do whatever he wanted? He was an ambitious man, but started on the base of his wants, not wanting to scare you off. He reach out and ran his hands through your white hair, slowly washing it and once in a while touching your neck.
Your skin felt impossibly soft in his rough palms, and your scent was enough to send him far far away. He felt his heart racing, threatening with escaping his rib cage, he couldn’t believe you were there in front of him, a Targaryen princess, naked and inviting.
As he softly caresses your neck, you throw your head back enjoying the feeling of him touching your skin. His hands softly untangle your wet hair, and it surprises him when you let out a low moan when he accidentally pulled your hair.
“Oh,” Cregan could feel the heat rising to his face, and of course, his cock twitching.
Being this close to you was making him lose all his composure, but he did his best as his hands traveled to your shoulders from your hair, massaging them gently as you nudged back, encouraging him to continue.
“Shall… shall I move further down, my princess?”
He could physically feel your laugh against his hands, sending shivers down his spine.
“Yes.”
His hands moved along your shoulders, past your neck, and down to your upper back softly touching and caressing the path downwards your back. He can hear you sigh quietly, his hands coming back to your shoulder blades and slowly moving to your sides, just below your arms, both of his index fingers just barely brushing your breasts.
He stops, his hands still. “May I, your highness? I would never want to do something without your consent.”
You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him from the corner of your eye. “Go on, pup.”
His hands reach your chest, and he scoots closer, his (now) hard cock a few inches away from your ass. He warily cups your breasts, squeezing them gently as his fingers pinch your nipples, making them pebble.
You let out a whimper, shivering at the touch of his rough and big hands on your tits.
“Does this... please you, your highness? My hands on your perfect skin?” He cannot stop himself now, words spilling out his mouth as they didn’t before, his hands wandering around and playing with your chest.
“Yes, you’re doing such a good job, pup.” He blushes deeply but doesn't stop.
He’s still in disbelief, not entirely believing the situation happening in front of his eyes. The princess of Dragonstone telling him how good he's being for her? It is too much to comprehend, you’re so above him in any situation, but there you are, praising and wanting him to touch you.
“You want me to continue, my princess?”
You nod, “Go further,”
His heart starts to pound harder in his chest, like a war drum, but he continues to do as you say. One hand stays playing with your breast, stroking your nipple, and the other travels downwards through your belly.
“Like this?” He whispers in your ear, and you can feel his hot breath on the back of your neck.
You surprise him again by scooting back, your ass against his hardened length, he gasps, the plump of your ass touching his cock making him lose his vision for a second, not expecting it at all.
“Just like that,” Your words send chills down his spine, is he really about to do this with a princess? Is he really worthy of that? He swallows deeply, his mouth now dry, but his mind is made up. He wants you, and if you’re allowing him to do this, he won't complain at all.
“As you wish, my princess. How far would you like me to continue?”
“As far as you wish, pup.”
Your words leave him breathless, but he obliges.
Cregan’s hand on your belly travels further down, carefully to not overstep your boundaries but decided to resume his wandering on your body as his cock presses against your ass. His eyes are glued to the back of your neck, his touch is hesitant at first but your permission makes him feel bold, so he presses his one hand down further and the other squeezes your breast.
“Go on, pup,” You whisper, leaning your head back and resting it on his shoulder as his mouth grazes your neck towards your throat, breathing heavily, “You know what to do.”
He chuckles, but it comes out as a shaky breath. He knows exactly what to do.
His fingers slowly make their way down to your cunt, two digits slowly reaching your clit hovering over it, and moving down to your folds, feeling how you shiver.
You exhale shakily, leaning even more against his body, “Please.”
Cregan’s resolve breaks, blushing as he continues his ministrations, teasing your clit with his palm and fingers grazing your folds, rubbing them.
He’s so immersed in his teasing he doesn't notice when your soft hand grabs his, pushing it down towards your pussy hard. “I don’t like being teased, do your work.”
Your words drive him into a frenzy, immediately obeying and pushing two fingers into your cunt, hearing you moan. His hand on your breast leaves to support what the other one is doing, moving his fingers in a circular motion on your clit as the other fingers you.
You throw your head back into his shoulder harshly, groaning. “Don’t stop, pup.”
Cregan grinds himself against your ass as he thrusts into you, fingers deep into your pussy. Your breath starts to get labored and your shoulders begin to shake, he starts going faster, more vigorously as he hears your little whimpers with his name mixed into your chants.
“You’re doing so good for me, pup,” He grins proudly, his cock twitching at the breathy praise that falls from your lips, grinding harder against your ass.
Cregan makes you reach your peak after he pinches your clit and his long rough fingers thrust into you, shaking slightly as he holds you in place.
He’s still rock hard against your ass, and after a few moments to come back to yourself, you turn around to face him, your tits against his chest as you straddle his lap, not caring at all how the water splashes outside the tub.
Cregan’s cock is a sight, long and with a thickness it makes your mouth water. He watches you as you move around him until you grab his shaft making his dick brush your folds as you accommodate, the tip teasing on your hole.
“I want you, do you want me?”
He thinks that’s the dumbest question he's ever heard in his twenty-one years of life.
“Hell yes, my princess.”
You give him a wolfish grin as you sink into his length mercilessly in one go, your tight hole wrapping his cock in a warm embrace he can only answer by groaning loudly, his hands flying to your hips to help you steady yourself.
“You’re so tight, seven hells… my goddess, you’re so beautiful.” Your mouth parted at the sensation of his cock splitting you in two, combined with his praise, it’s enough encouragement to start riding him, water splashing everywhere.
His voice starts coming out as incoherences, between praises and swearing on how tight you are, and how your cunt was made for him, his mouth latching at your breast biting it and marking the sides when he can no longer say coherent words. You ride him hard and roughly, so it’s not a surprise when he spills inside your pussy and you follow him behind quickly with a second orgasm when he moves his hand down to rub your clit.
He hugs you as you both breathe heavily, trying to compose yourselves.
Your hand reaches his face, cupping his cheek as he looks into your lilac eyes like a puppy.
“You did so well, you’re not getting rid of me now.”
He beams at the praise, hugging you tightly, pressing your body against his with him still inside you, getting softer. “It is my pleasure to please you, my princess.”
vermithorn © do not copy, repost or translate my works
#tvrgvryen#cregan stark x fem reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan x reader#cregan stark fanfic#cregan stark#cregan x y/n#cregan stark x you#cregan stark smut#cregan stark x y/n#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#hotd smut#hotd#hotd x y/n#hotd x you#house of the dragon#fanfic#house targaryen#smut#fanfic smut
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Round 3, Day 2 - ALL TEAMS (Extra Summon - Tempest)
The lone Faker stood in the midst of the storm, awaiting whoever was to challenge her.
A figure, spiraling down from the heavens and striking at the Faker. The Alter-Ego, beautiful and proud, engaged in swift close combat as her bladed legs danced against the sparking metal of the Faker's sword. They seemed to be evenly matched, as the Alter-Ego laughed.
"I don't get what all the fuss is about--! I could handle you by myself, you know?"
"Alter-Ego… I like that warrior's confidence, but it won't be enough!"
The Faker's eyes flashed, the Alter-Ego's movements slowing in a critical moment as she was struck off the chariot, only recovering fast enough to safely land on the ground to regroup. The chariot wheeled downwards, charging at the Alter-Ego before a gust of wind threw it off course, the Faker's attention turning to another Servant. The MoonCancer, hovering in the air with massive flapping elephant ears, venting to nobody in particular.
"Gh… why couldn't I have 'support-type' build? Then I could just hang back and throw out buffs while everyone else got in close with the fighting. Ahh-- whatever! If I'm a tank, then I'm a tank! Let's draw some aggro!"
With the Faker's attention drawn elsewhere, two more Servants rushed into the fray.
"The sound of lightning…!"
"Come, o' Blade of Flames!"
Two attacks, simultaneously struck at the Faker. One, a glittering roseate fencing blade thrust forward. Second, a dark saber of cursed flames slashed downward. Both attacks forced the rider of the skeletal chariot to reel, as she retaliated with her own sword, knocking them both away with a thunderous strike as they both spiraled in the air, struggling to catch themselves.
"Uwaah--! That sword… is fast…!" "Hahaha! She's a bit tougher than a standard Heroic Spirit! Good! Very good!"
On the ground, two Servants watched. One of them, a Pretender in a white cloak, held out his hands as magic sparkled outward, providing energy to the direct combatants as they fought against the Faker. The second, a Ruler wearing a heavy blue cloak against the storm, was waving her banner proudly, light shining from her body.
"You must be the Ruler, looking at how proudly you're waving that flag. I didn't take a Ruler for one to want a reward."
"I don't care for the reward, just for solving this Grail War. This battle... we'll have to work together, but by some metric one of us will be determined as 'the best'."
"An 'MVP', perhaps?" The Pretender chuckled. "So, nobody can afford to sandbag either. Everybody wants to be a winner, right? Even someone like you can't afford to lose."
She slammed down her banner, the harsh rainfall temporarily broken by golden light that pierced through like an arrow, covering all the participating Servants against the Faker-Class.
"You're right, I don't want to lose either...so, let's give it our all! Come, Faker! Let the battle begin!"
"Hahaha! Now this is what I love to see! In this bout, I shall serve as your seventh! So come, show me that warrior spirit! The greatest of you will face glory, and the cowardly will face punishment! Warriors of the Extra-Class, Mages of the modern era, distant as you may ever be-- show me your resolve, and Faker will return it in kind!"
Due to the presence of all participating Servants everyone is put on fair ground! No boosts or demerits apply, the results are what they are!
The Servant who does the most against Faker (as in, gets 1st Place) wins!
SCORING:
1st Place will receive a boost of their choosing from an assortment for their next round!
2nd Place will not receive any rewards, but evade punishment!
3rd through 5th Place will gain a -2% demerit during their next round! These demerits bypass any resistances!
Last place will gain a wound that bypasses any damage evasion passives!
#extra summon event#combat phase poll#team avenger#team mooncancer#team foreigner#team pretender#team alter ego#team ruler
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Rider class Suzuka Gozen (Summer) for the Servant Summer Festival 2023 in Fate Grand Order.
Illustrator: Takenoko Seijin.
#Suzuka Gozen#rider#rider class#rider servant#servant#fate grand order#character#character design#game character#fgo#fate go#fate series#fate#fate/ grand order#lasengle#typemoon#TYPE-MOON#game#mobile game#official art#art#artist#official artist#illustration#official illustration#illustrator#official illustrator#game event#servant summer festival 2023#Takenoko Seijin
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The Dragon's Mistress (15.2)
15.2. The End of the Beginning
MASTERLIST
Summary: Some things unravel, other issues find this ties
Warnings: cursing, mentions of war, mentions of death, humiliation, use of the word bastard and traitor, incest, death, mentions of blood, death of a monarch, might miss some warnings, you know what this it
+18, MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 2.8k
Notes: muahahaha this is it people! I didn’t even realize I was so close to the end until this! a final chapter! then a good epilogue. THIS WAS IT
“It was a dangerous move”, he warned
“But it worked”, said Corlys, “he is letting her go”
“You poisoned her”, he continued
“She was never in real danger, a little nose bleeding, a day of unconsciousness”, he said, “If I wanted to truly hurt her, I would have used some common poison, and not take months to find the proper one, to give her a good scare”, he murmured, looking into the flames, “I would never hurt her, or the baby within her”
“When are we leaving?”, he asked then
“First thing tomorrow”, he continued, “and you are coming with us”, Steffon smiled, relieved, “but then, I will return, after I make sure she is safely within out allies and friends, this isn’t over, this had only just begun”, Steffon smiled, knowingly, he then teached with his hands and the guard received the items he gave him, “you know what to do with these before we leave”, Seteffon nodded, “oh, one more thing…”
“Yes?”
“Do we still have supporters in Harrenhal?”, he asked with a hint of a smile, almost knowing the answer
“The strongest of our allies reside in the Riverlands, they still hold big grudges against Aemond for burning their fields during the war”
“Perfect”, he said simply, “I´m afraid I’ll need them to burn one last thing before we are done”
Aemond was a complicated man
From the very beginning he tried to keep up to his word, since he was a young boy the thing that mattered to him the most was his honor, especially after witnessing his brother lose it so quickly in wine and whores.
He trained with the sword, he assisted to all his Valyrian lessons until he was fluent in the language of his ancient house, he took classes and read all volumes of history and philosophy in the greatest Library of the realm, the one in the Red Keep
He was a devoted son, and brother, and Prince, never arguing with his grandfather or mother, always doing what he was told
He rode the biggest dragon in the world
He was the perfect prince, a gentleman
Until, she was denied of him
When Queen Alicent had refused Princess Rhaenyra’s proposal of betrothed Helaena with Jacaerys, he thought…
Now is my turn
To take my sweet niece to wife, and put a solution to all the problems of the realm and within the family
He was the one to do it
He wanted to, his niece was the perfect Princess, well versed in history and poetry, rider of a fearsome dragon, and a beauty without comparison.
She was his retribution for everything, the price he had won with his efforts
But he was denied of that too, his brothers took his eye, humiliated him, and Rhaenyra took her from him
He could never forgive her
She, the perfect princess, was going to do what was told, and she was betrothed to Lord Cregan Stark
No, you belonged with him
You were the only thing he has ever wanted, and the Kingdoms knew it when he burned the Riverlands and entire armies, only to get to you.
And he finally had you
But like they say…
... But some little birds cannot be caged, their souls begin to wither and suddenly they no longer want to sing ...
He wanted you, but you did not wanted him
He thought he could live with it, he had enough love for the both of you, he had enough desire, enough power, to keep you by his side.
But he didn’t
If you didn’t love him back, it didn’t matter what he did, he believed, you were his and that was enough
But it doesn’t work that way.
Now he had a lump in his throat as he saw the servants and guards put all your things in coffers
He had yielded
He was sending you away
He still didn’t understand why you didn’t love him back, as you tried to hide your happiness, but couldn’t
You were happy to leave him
This is what you wanted all along
So he found himself desperate again
He grabbed you in his arms, kissed all over your face, and whispered in your ear
“I will not stop until I find who did this to you”, he whispered, “when I do, I will bring you back to me”, you took too long to answer, concocting a lie in your pretty head, he could see the wheels turning
“I hope so, my King”, you said faintly
“And when you return, there is only going to be you, no other, no other Queen”, he said, to see your reactions
“I will not wish for you to harm anyone”, you warned, oh, you, always so concerned
For when Floris expelled the babe from her belly… her days were numbered
He was losing you, he didn’t like that.
He never realized he never had you in the first place
He would never admit it, but a tiny tear escaped his eye when he saw your ship sail away. Thankfully no one saw him, as a loud roar was heard front he skies and suddenly the entire harbor was overcome by a huge shadow, Aemond looked up to see your ever faithful dragon flying above your ship, following his rider home.
His face twisted in rage because he had commanded your dragon to be chained to the pit, clearly, the people he had sent had no luck containing the beast, apparently.
Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor
A Dragon is not a slave
Aemond turned around to see Floris, cradling her belly
He was weak a couple of times, and that was the result, he thought bitterly. They lends him a hand, he played it, he played it wrong
But he did not have any time to worry, to cry for your loss, to punch the walls in anger for what others in the dark where still making him do.
A week after your departure…
Aegon died
He exhaled his last breath in a heave of puss and blood, and that is how the man that what going to be known as “Aegon the Usurper” was gone from this earth, taken by the stranger.
He detested his brother, that was no secret, but there was a day he didn’t.
Some years ago, Aegon was only his brother, his oldest brother, a bit drunk, and a whore, but he was only his brother, and that is when Aemond loved him, he had helped him usurp his sister, because he loved him, and his sister and his family, and he thought that was the way to keep everyone safe
Perhaps he had been wrong
But Aemond didn’t have the strength, nor the luxury of thinking about that, he didn’t dare.
It was what it was
His mother, Alicent, cried silently as the silent sister worked on Aegon’s body, covered his sick and twisted body with gauze and so many oils and ointments to try and cover the stench, finally, they placed the crown of the conqueror over his covered body.
He had not been the King in a while now, so the ceremony was short, but dignified thanks to his mother, but as like Viserys before him, nobody really payed attention to the burial, but rather, his own coronation
He had been acting like prince regent for a while now, but no matter, the ceremony was great, held in the throne room, instead of the Dragon Pit like Aegon’s had been, other lords of all over the Kingdoms had not been invited, they were only notified of the death of Aegon, and the coronation of Aemond.
Aegon had died, now, he was King, and you were not by his side when Criston placed the crown over his head, he looked around the room, looking for you, expecting to see you there smiling shyly, but he couldn’t find you anywhere, he could finally crown you Queen of the Seven Kingdoms in all your right
But you were not there
The day
The most important day of his life, and you were nowhere to be found.
He wanted to cry
He wanted to throw himself into his bed and weep
Only Floris was there, standing by the last step of the Throne, looking up at him triumphantly
He wanted to throw up
But he couldn’t show it, for everybody in that room, for all those lickspitters and flatterers, they had won, it was him. Aemond, the right choice, the right brother
The one that studied history and philosophy, the one that trained with the sword, the one that rode the largest dragon in the world
The one who had wed two Queens, that now were with his children in her bellies, the one that worn the conqueror’s crown and held the conqueror’s sword
All the symbols of…
For fucks sake
His grandfather would have been proud
That is what everyone in that room saw, the perfect King
That is who everyone greeted at the banquet afterwards, to the King, the Baratheon Queen, and his mother, the loved Dowager Queen Mother, Alicent Hightower
The court seemed at peace
But it seemed like the peace before the storm
As the feast was raging on, Corlys Velaryon entered the room with the remains of his family, nephews and far off cousins, but impressive nonetheless
He barely nodded to the new anointed monarch, and sat close beside him, at the side of Floris
“You must be pleased to know, your grace, that your Queen is safe, at the palace we discussed”, he said triumphantly, knowingly souring the mood of everyone at the table, “she send her bests, and wishes to be present in this joyous occasion, sadly that cannot be”
“I agree Lord Corlys, soon, it shall all be well again, and I can have my Queen back at my side”, Corlys smiled, and raised his cup at the King, which he answered back, at the scowl of the Queen, and the frown of Floris
Aemond smiled, more confidently now, he was King now
Now, he was settled in power, with two heirs on the way, he was settling on the charge, he had vanquished one of his most powerful enemies while on power, he had won the war
His chest filled with the sense of victory
One step closer
One more, just one more
One enemy left to be slain, and it was going to be fine
All of it, was going to be worth it
He was King now
A real King, anointed by the faith, cherished by the people, supported by half of the great families and at least three of the seven Kingdoms
It could be better.
But it didn’t
Days went by and nothing did.
One day, a very respected member of his kingsguard entered his chambers, he looked nervous
“Your grace, following your instructions, I found something in Queen Floris’ chambers”, he said shakily, he knew how much was at stake, specially if he was wrong
Aemond only looked at him severely
Corlys was sewing scorn, resentment and mistrust in court, and he was not going to stop, until they ripped each other apart
“Queen Floris poisoned our beloved Queen, but she couldn’t do it alone, the question is, why your master of whispers didn’t know it?”, he asked the King as he had called upon him for advice on what to do, “she couldn’t have done it alone, my king”
Reader’s POV
You didn't want to believe it, when Aemond told you he was going to send you away, you didn’t want to get your hopes up, you believed you were dreaming.
But it was real
Maids helped you put your things inside coffers, and a sudden happiness filled you
it was true, you were going away
Dragonstone? probably, is the only place that made sense for you
You were begging
But any place could be better than this
You would even go to Casterly fucking rock, instead of this place
Ironic, it should be your home, where your mother was born, where you were born
But it became a prison
You didn't want to believe you were finally going to be free of it until you were walking towards the docks, escorted by the entire Kingsguard and Aemond walking by your side
He was angry
He had promised you that you were going to be the only Queen, soon, and you couldn’t wish for anything but the opposite
This worked
You placed your hand in your belly, he had what he wanted, you could only wish you were expecting a girl and Floris a boy, perhaps then he would leave you alone.
Aemond followed you hand, placing them over yours, as you stopped by when you reached Corlys’ ship at the end of the harbor
“I will send for you soon”, he promised, as he kissed you, you leaned into him, making him believe you would come back
You wouldn’t
ONce you were weak enough to fight this, but not anymore
You were not going to come back, not against your own will.
You grabbed the small hand of your little brother as you helped him aboard the ship
Corlys held you both once the boat left the harbor.
It was funny
From all your Velaryon siblings, you were the one that liked the sea the most, even if your real father was Daemon Targaryen
You found it calming, reassuring, soothing, but it was also something to be weary of, careful, scared of.
The endless sea
“Thank you grandfather”, you whispered, he kissed the top of your head
“I’m here now sweet girl”, he whispered back, “they will pay for everything they have done to us”
There was a time you cursed him, you believed he had betrayed you and your mother, but he didn’t, he needed to get inside, attack from within, he was the Sea Snake, one of the most dangerous men on the seven Kingdoms
And he was on your side
“The sea agrees with you”, he whispered, as with the soft sway of the ship you felt more confident as when you were on mainland
“I got it from you”, you said cheekily, and he smiled warmly
“You are my legacy, history remembers names, not blood”, you only smiled gently
And those words made sense only when you arrived at Dragonstone, where there was two very familiar silvery heads waiting for you
“Baela? Rhaena?”, you called, your half sisters smiling back at you. You ran towards them, as much as you could since you were heavily pregnant
they held you tightly against them
Once the war had started to collect the lives of your grandmother and then your brothers, Corlys had taken them to Driftmark, where they were going to be safe, you never saw them again.
Your stepsisters, your baby brother, your grandfather.
You looked up at the high towers of the huge castle, just in time when your dragon arrived and flied above it and between.
Beautiful
Safe
Your baby kicked inside you and you smiled warmly, he knew he was home too
“You don’t have to worry, little one”, Corlys whispered, “you are home now, I’ll protect you”
But as you approached the castle, you realized it was more… lively, that the last time you saw it, more people, ships on the harbor, banners from houses of the Crownlands, no, it couldn’t be, you recognized from afar the house sigil of the Celtigars
“What is going on?”, you asked
“The Lords are greeting you back home, where you belong, you, your brother, and the princeling”, now Corlys had the winning hand, having all the royal bloodlines under his protection.
When you entered the hall, you were met with all the lords of the Crownlands, everyone bowed when they saw you, smiling brightly at you, you smiled shyly back, as they guided you towards the Dragonstone throne.
Encouraged by Corlys, you took a seat in the throne, something you didn’t even see your mother do.
You gazed at all the lords, who didn’t even look in your direction when you lived inside these walls, when you were the last child of Rhaenyra Targaryen, and they could see how they disappointed you in your face, in the frown in your face.
Many of them started talking, amongst each other, and some towards you, many apologies, a lot of everything
“We failed you once, our sweet Queen”, one man stood above all the others, “ we will not fail you again”, said Lord Celtigar, taking a knee to you, and all the other Lords followed
“To the Queen, and Prince Viserys!”, chanted one, and everyone echoed it
“For our late Queen Rhaenyra!”, chanted another and once again, your mother’s name was being called in the halls of Dragonstone
WELL, BRING ITTTT hahaha
It is going to be a long epilogue...
#misguidedmistress#aemond the kinslayer#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x alys rivers#aemond x oc#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x floris baratheon#house of the dragon#hbo house of the dragon#targaryen!reader#house targaryen
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Various fgo servant fun facts
Saber Astolfo is the version of Astolfo who has their reason back
Beni-Enma has no tongue. She speaks through her bird hat thing.
Saber Gilles de Rais has madness enhancement, because one would have to be insane to believe he can still be a hero after everything he has done
Napoleon is explicitly not The Dude Napoleon but rather the Cult Of Personality Of Napoleon
Benkei is not actually Benkei, he's a guy who had actually fleed Benkei's battle and is using his name as a servant. That's why Ushiwakamaru is constantly fucking with him.
St Georgios has a knack for photography. St Martha has a knack for bondage.
Medb is a rider because she rides men
Red Hare thinks that he is Lu Bu. It is a recurring joke in events that Lu Bu acts as a horse.
Carmilla is an older version of Liz, which is why they each think the other is massively cringe
Fuuma Kotarou is part oni
Beowulf is a berserker because he doesn't fit in any other classes, which is why his madness enhancement is so low
Berserker Lancelot has no face
Tamamo Cat essentially lobotomized herself via madness enhancement to ensure she would never be a monster again
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Part of the problem with Fate Grand Order is the core gameplay is fundamentally flawed, and it's very difficult to restore "a fun game" around a flawed core.
Quick and Buster and Arts were all interesting notions, and could have mapped into action gameplay (if we were to merge FGO's ideas with FSR's gameplay I would equate them to fast attacks, heavy attacks, and weaker attacks meant to charge your special bar, but I digress).
As it is, though, it just makes for unpleasant feelings in gameplay, demanding optimizations (I would point out that in the international release we only recently got the ability to combo all three together, and made Quick chains strong enough to consider independently). Those optimizations rise up around every aspect of the game; only a select few Servants have the ability to AoE without accessing their Noble Phantasm, and they haven't even made it to international. There's a wide range of Craft Essences, but only a few that ever matter. Creativity in builds is tamped down around increasingly narrowed build notions as the devs design with over-optimized teams in mind.
The end result is a game that, optimally, advises you to use your super rare fully powered optimized support, your friends' identically super rare fully powered optimized support, and a high power damage Servant, and repeatedly fire the damage dealer's Noble Phantasm to either clear waves or kill bosses.
Speaking of which, from a lore perspective, this is also completely messed up. By the lore of the Nasuverse, a Noble Phantasm is a Servant's super secret ultimate move, only meant for the final hour. This is fully incongruous with the gameplay, where you typically throw the same world-ending mythology-defining techniques three times in a row and call it a day. (Entertainingly, in the International release, we've also made it to Traum, where we see faceless Servants fire their Noble Phantasms like simple artillery, but that's its own commentary.)
Like, it's so effortless to imagine better systems than this! Servants deployed on a chessboard-like map, heralding back to the themes of Fate Apocrypha; suddenly we don't need anything as mechanically obtuse as Class Advantages when we could organically differentiate each Class by how they navigate the board or how they fight each other (Riders can leap over enemies like knight pieces in chess; Archers can attack at range without moving; Lancers do really well on Attack but have poor Defense; and Berserkers can be the units of terror that lore implies!)
Alternatively, the Grail Battlefronts we've already seen- rework the entire game to operate more organically like that; maybe Servants can use skills without entering combat, but it exhausts their actions. Then different forms of gameplay can exist beyond just "mulch the enemy"; like "defend this location" or "collect these resources" or "defeat This Particular Foe".
Or, even if we had to work with just the system we have! Change THAT! Rather than select three cards from a set of five, have it go down the list; each Servant gets One Action to either pick from "Quick, Buster, Arts, Use A Skill".
As for Servant Customization, walk it all the way back, all the way back up to the Attack/HP boosting. Make it so that players can individually optimize Servant performance in different ways- this Servant has better output in Arts, that Servant has higher Crit Star generation. And for folks who'd already spent their Fous, you could just say "right, so anybody with Fous spent can now allocate those points into these new Stats! No harm done!"
Of course, in order to do this, they would likely need to construct a whole new framework for their game, whilst preserving the progress people have made until now.
Then again, they are presently building castles in the sand during the rising tide with one hand and bandaging bullet wounds with the other, so maybe a long shot like that is what they need.
#fgo#fate grand order#my ramble box#maybe my next ramble box will be How I Would Make A Better FGO from the ground up
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