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claymoresword · 6 months ago

Text

Fatal Attraction

Lagertha Lothbrok x Farmer Fem!Reader

Summary: After a long day of working on your farm, you have an accidental encounter with a gorgeous shield-maiden.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, y/n could be transmasc, lust at first sight or whatever, y/n and lagertha are soulmates infact, porn no plot

Note: fairly certain no one's going to even read this silly thing but i've been rewatching vikings and something shifted.. that's all i have to say. (whenever there's a blonde milf trust claymoresword will be there)

gif cred: winnickdaily

You are forced to call it a day as you notice the sky dimming. Sundown is rapidly approaching and ypu recognize that it would not be productive to continue working through the night again.

Days at the farm have been long and tiring enough as it is while you prepare for winter.

You finally exit the stables after checking on the horses one last time. Slipping the hilt of your axe through your sword belt, you decide to head out into the forest to answer nature’s call once more before turning in for the night.

You relieve yourself upon a tree, subsequently clearing your throat whilst making a considerable amount of noise without much thought.

Once finished, you lace up your breeches in haste, anxious to return to the comfort and warmth of your farmhouse.

Then, a noise captures your attention, it is the crunching of leaves, a jarring snap of a twig just beside you.

Footsteps.

You reach for your axe, but before you can even attempt to retrieve it, the sensation of a pointed, cold object against the back of your neck causes you to freeze in place.

“Wait– don't harm me. I'm not here to cause trouble.” You declare in resignation, lifting your hands up as a gesture of surrender.

Today cannot be the day that you die.

“Who are you?” A woman's voice, edged and perilous, much like the blade that's being pressed up against your neck.

“I- I'm a farmer, I live just across the river.” You explain, and then, blessedly, you no longer feel the edged metal against your flesh.

You allow yourself a sigh of relief. However, just as suddenly, your breath hitches in your throat once more when you turn around to face the mystery woman– the most beautiful woman you have ever laid eyes on.

Clad in armour, she bears a sword like she was born to it. Evidently, she is a shield-maiden, the most captivating one you have ever seen.

“State your name.” The blonde haired goddess demands. Her expression is taut and fierce and she has yet to lower her sword, strangely enough, it only makes you want to smile, but you possess enough wit to fight the urge.

“Y/n. My name is y/n.” You state, breathless, incapable of concealing the look on your face.

She is captivating. Now that your eyes have met, you can hardly find the strength to look away.

The shield-maiden remains silent as she continues to observe you. Once satisfied, she finally sheaths her steel.

“What's a farmer like you doing in the middle of a forest? This place is dangerous, full of bandits looking for an easy target.” The goddess asks, eyeing you once more.

Her seemingly impenetrable demeanor only intrigues you further. You find yourself actively fighting the desire to step closer to the shield-maiden.

"It- the truth, it's humiliating." You mutter, chuckling slightly, finally averting your gaze.

"I came out here to take a piss, I don't like to do it infront of the animals.” You admit, and your heart sings as you catch a smile threatening to form upon the shield-maiden's lips.

Lagertha's eyebrows raise slightly with your confession but she forces an impartial stare.

"So.. you have chosen the most dangerous place in all of Hedeby to answer nature's call?" The shield-maiden asks, her tone sharp with judgment.

Her words don't graze you, in fact your grin only widens as you are filled with a stroke of confidence.

She is even more beautiful when she is trying not to smile at you.

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask boldly, and finally, it is the shield-maiden's turn to flush a light shade of pink. She bites her lip, focusing her attention on the ground for a moment.

“Tell me your name again.” She orders, and you catch her eyes, the colour of the ocean– you wonder what it would be like to get lost in them, to lose yourself in the depths of her.

You aim to find out.

“Y/n.” You repeat, finally inching closer, hypnotized.

The other woman fails to move, but she allows the proximity. A tantalizing smirk that pulls your gaze toward her lips once more.

"You know, y/n–" She begins, tilting her head gently to the side.

"You could have gone to take a piss in a bush near your farm. But you chose to go in the woods, alone, in danger, I wonder why..” The shield-maiden taunts.

You only shrug.

“Perhaps I enjoy the risk.” You claim in jest, taking another step. “What are you doing here all alone?” You redirect the question, and the other woman looks off into the distance for a beat.

“Hmm..” She hums, purposely taking ample time to conjure a response. Your bodies are now only an inch away from touching.

She enjoys this, leaving you wanting– like a pathetic, eager pup.

Finally, the other woman advances forward, you are close enough to smell the sweat on her skin.

A thrilling scent.

"I come out here to think, to clear my head, and–" She pauses to lean forward. "I also enjoy the risk.” The shield-maiden claims in a whisper, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

She is mocking you, and Gods do you enjoy it.

Your smile remains, as well as your stare upon her lips. “You never told me your name.”

“My name is Lagertha.” The shield-maiden answers, her hand leaves the hilt of her sword to carefully graze your chest, she traces the details on your tunic.

An action that takes you both by surprise, yet she fails to pull away, and you pray to Freya that she never does.

“Can I kiss you, Lagertha?” You ask. If this gorgeous woman before you aims to plunge her sword into you now, then so be it.

To your delight, Lagertha does nothing of the sort, instead, her hand clenched into a grip on your collar, she nods. “Kiss me.”

You regard her permission, leaning in to capture her lips for a passionate kiss. Subsequently pinning her up against the tree as she wraps her arms around the back of your neck.

Lagertha immediately parts her mouth wider, wanting your tongue. Once again you do not hesitate to do as she asks, your tongue meets her own, and she thanks you with a whimper and a slightly louder moan.

Your hand shifts further downwards to her rear, deliberately pulling her close until she is flush against your groin. You can already feel yourself growing painfully hard; kissing this woman you had just met mere moments ago.

“You are so beautiful..” You utter, earning another gasp of pleasure as your mouth finds Lagertha's neck.

“You are not so bad yourself.” She pants in return, pushing herself further against you. Her hand slips in between both your bodies, boldly palming your hardened cock over your breeches.

You poorly mask a moan with a strained chuckle, pulling away for a moment to look upon her flushed expression. Lagertha's mouth remains parted as she chases your lips. You grant her another deep kiss before separating once more to speak.

"Do you have a husband, Lagertha? Will he care that you are kissing strange women in the middle of the forest?" You remark with a certain playfulness, although secretly hoping she will admit that she is indeed unmarried.

Eventhough you knew that the chances of it are highly unlikely.

"I have no husband," Lagertha replies, her voice laced with desire as she pushes herself against your groin once more, well aware of how hard you had gotten for her.

Her answer is the sweetest there is– it is exactly what you want to hear. Yet, you don't believe her.

"A gorgeous woman such as yourself.. unwed?" You mutter skeptically before placing another open mouthed kiss against her throat. You swiftly begin sucking on the flesh, relishing in the desperate whimper you manage to pull from the shield-maiden.

Soon Lagertha finds strength enough to grip a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back so you are forced to look her in the eyes.

She appears delighted to watch you wince.

“My heart has not yet found its place.” The shield-maiden admits, and you accept it to be an earnest statement. Though the glimmer of doubt beneath her poised expression does not go unnoticed.

“Oh– then, perhaps..” You say, pausing to kiss her again.

“Your heart will find its place with me.” You declare brazenly, and it is met with a faint smile before Lagertha reacts with a feeble attempt to shove you away.

“You are incredibly arrogant..” She claims, and you kiss her neck again before leaving another deep bruise upon her milky white skin.

The shield maiden chokes out a moan as you repeated the action on another part of her neck.

“Presumptuous–” She tries to continue, but is ultimately overcome with pleasure as you move your mouth over a particularly tender spot.

“–ah, fuck.” Lagertha groans as you proceed to slip your hand underneath her bodice, soon your mouth finds the swell of her breasts.

“You are perfect.” You praise in retaliation to her insults.

Lagertha doesn't try to wound you with her words anymore, only guiding your face closer so she may kiss you again, hungry and anguished.

Now she is utterly lost within you– and you in turn are reduced to the simplest most vulnerable part of yourself.

There is nothing else; all you care to see, touch, and taste is her.

Lagertha eventually results in pulling you down onto the ground with her. Leaves rustling violently as you both fumbled to undress yourselves. You removed your sword belts, tossing your weapons aside. There is no time, you needed to have her now, and the shield-maiden wanted the same.

She hastily pulls down her breeches and smallclothes. Once they are off her body, she discards them heedlessly and without thought, while you do the exact same.

A grunt leaves you as Lagertha grasps the base of your shaft, she pumps the length of your cock, diligently guiding you closer.

In half a heartbeat you are sheathed inside of the other woman to the hilt. Lagertha moans aloud at the sensation of your large member impaling her. Her gasps of pleasure, bold enough to echo throughout the vast, open forest.

You begin a quick but steady pace with your thrusts, feeling every delicious inch of her cunt. With every movement of your hips, Lagertha squeezes desperately around your girth.

The feeling was utterly intoxicating, fucking her is what you intend to do; inside of her is where you intend to be for the rest of your life, if it was possible.

Your groans are continuously muffled in the crook of shield-maiden's neck as Lagertha's fingers dig into the flesh of your back. Her grip would no doubt have broken skin if it wasn't for the barrier provided by the fabric of your tunic.

Lagertha's noises of pleasure, in contrast, are unapologetic. She is whimpering and moaning with every thrust of your hips, her breathing shallow but loud.

If a bandit was indeed scouring the forest this evening, they are bound to stumble upon this display, and the thought excited you more than anything else.

“Oh, fuck, y/n– you are so good at that..” Lagertha manages just as you lean in to kiss her once again, you swallow her moans, tasting her.

“Gods– yes..” She says after your lips part.

Her hot breath against your ear, accompanied with the feeling of her warm and wet cunt clenching around your cock was overwhelming. You were nearing your peak already, far sooner than you had anticipated.

With a groan, you begin to pick up the pace. Although as it happens, Lagertha was much farther gone, it takes only one thrust, and then another for her to come completely undone. She comes hard around your cock like a wanton maiden, she screams out in ecstasy like a whore.

The sight of the shield-maiden writhing with pleasure underneath you was enough to coax you over the edge. You only manage a guttural noise as your entire body tenses, releasing thick spurts of warm seed inside of the other woman.

–

You have since climbed off the shield-maiden, Lagertha now laying beside you on a bed of dirt and dried leaves. A similar look of contentment highlights her delicate features as you both attempt to catch your breath.

Eventually, you turn to look at her properly. With an effort to make sure that you were definitely not dreaming, you reach out to gently brush a strand of her golden hair out of her face.

Lagertha glances at you with her bottom lip set in between her teeth, she is trying her hardest to conceal her grin.

“Come home with me.” You find yourself uttering, and the shield-maiden gazes at you in a similar manner.

It is not shock, she is only trying to decipher you in return.

“I would like that.” Lagertha simply replies, she lets herself smile then, her calloused yet tender hand upon your cheek.

#lagertha #lagertha lothbrok #lagertha x reader #lagertha lothbrok x reader #vikings #g!p reader #g!p #lagertha imagine #smut

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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months ago

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Knight König who, after bravelly defending the castle alone and saving all the beautiful young maidens, is now *gasp* alone with them!! You and the rest of the young ladies are not even married yet and this whole horror of a siege came :(( you had to be locked inside the maiden tower with the other ladies, praying to the gods that someone strong would defend you, and here he was!! The giant knight from the north from whom you were always herded away 'because a brute like him has no business with fine young ladies like yourselves' :((

Imagine König who is for the time being the only male in the small castle, the foe has been defeated but any kind of help will take days to arrive :( During the fighting his mind was on slaying all the enemies to defend the flock of the frightened ladies but now...??

He's the only male among a dozen of maidens!! And these poor does are so scared in their tower on comfy beds of furs with all the supplies...so many warm, soft bodies to keep him warm and 'aid him to help his wounds', so many broad hips and breasts to grab and squeeze for comfort...oh and they are so ready to share all the supplies with him!!

I mean...who's to say that a war hero doesn't deserve something good too? :D

GFDFSSSS first I was like "gangbang medieval style yeehaw let's gooo" but then I had another quick idea (in all honesty writing gangbangs make me blush furiously lmao I'm weak!)

CW: Fear of SA, mention of blood, boners galore, dubcon groping, period typical attitudes, gender roles etc.

Knight!König asking you to wash him (because he was seated next to you at this one feast and now he's obsessed...)

König, who never had time for women because he was always on duty, whose best chances for a wife were an old widow or some soiled woman, whatever that meant... Probably some lowly lady, for a lowly knight like him. His family must hate him because they keep him from having even that: instead, he gets shipped off to this outpost of a castle that houses hundreds of soldiers and only a few women. Even they are kept under lock and key most of the time, and it's no wonder... A man like him shouldn't even be dreaming of dipping his dick in the pretty soft things of the Maiden’s tower.

König, who even to his own surprise, finds himself victorious after weeks of siege. Who's left completely unchecked and alone with a flock of scared fawns, poor does who are now gathering together for warmth and safety. They only have tiny daggers and iron scissors as their weapons against an armed knight, knowing they’re not always safe even from their own men – especially after a battle.

Even the strongest, most valiant knights get tired during a siege, turning into starved animals after a few weeks. A soldier fresh from war is the worst thing, having his cock up after bloodying his sword, they usually need to have a woman as soon as possible. A victorious knight, finding himself winning against all the odds, would surely prefer to fuck every single one of the soft cunts locked up in the women's tower...

So König, who batters the door and orders the frightened women to lift the baulk, only gets screams as an answer. They finally open it when he says he's tired after a fight and only wants to rest for a bit, puts on his most charming smile as the huge wooden door creaks open, and meets the ladies with a wide grin despite having blood all over him, stands proudly in his full height with his sword still drawn, a path of entrails and cut limbs behind him – why are they still screaming? He saved them! He should be given a royal welcome!

König, who finally gets the women to calm down a little when they notice he is not about to rape them on sight, who wipes his sword with one of their finest, freshly dyed wools (rude!). Who sheathes his weapon and smiles again, suggesting that they help him out of his plate and give him a wash – he’s earned that much, no?

König, who eats from their bowls as if he has never even seen food, who gawks at their tapestries with curiosity, who tries to stare down their necklines and catch a sight of those beautiful, round, plush tits. Most women quickly rush to heat the water to escape the possible groping about to ensue, while you are left with the task of getting him out of his armor.

The straps are small and endless, the armor consists of dozens of different parts, and he just keeps on grinning widely while you’re at it, giving you odd compliments and passages of courtly love with his mouth full of food. Some of his ramblings are straight out of a troubadour’s song, but you don’t believe a word he says, especially when his heated stare is fixed on your exposed neck, the collarbones so frail, the cascading wool that reveals your wrists as you try to pry your way under the heavy, bloodied pauldron.

Of course he remembers you, down to the minutest detail because he got to feed and take care of you at last winter's great feast... Someone had fucked up and seated you next to him in their error, and he heedily took advantage of the situation. He even managed to have a grope at you when the lords and ladies weren’t watching because they were so drunk.

He was drunk too, intoxicated by the strong ale and the shy stares you granted him. You didn’t do a thing when he pulled you closer and practically fed you some deer off your shared plate, tried if you'd fancy a date or a sip of wine while keeping you tightly tucked in his lap. He couldn’t get enough of you: your tiny gasp when you felt him grow hard, your whimper when he stole a soft squeeze of your tit… Your shy ghost of a smile as you demurely called him “Sir” and told him to stop before he gets you both into trouble.

Ever since that night, he has dreamed of you when pulling out his leaking cock. Sinned until he felt embarrassed to go to the chapel and yet again confess that he has defiled himself with his hand and thoughts of you. Ever since that night, he has wondered whether you are giving those whimpers to someone else nowadays…

But here you are, in the tower, taking off his plates and using all your strength to get him out of his chainmail. Why haven’t you been married off yet? Why aren't you making blankets and throws at some fancy lord's castle by now? You have the perfect hips for delivery, it's practically a sin to keep a woman like you locked up in a military fortress…

And polite curtsies and shy, downcast eyes won't save you now, you know that.

How can you say no to a knight, ordering you to give him a wash? “Do him the honor,” he says, while anyone can see he’s already hard.

There’s nothing the others can do but put up a curtain and leave you two to your featherlight privacy. He doesn’t even bother to undress behind it, simply flaunts that monstrous thing between his legs for everyone to see before giving you the honor of strolling to the steaming bath. A soft silence fills the tower as the knight, tall as a legend, hairy as a beast, climbs into the small wooden tub with a grunted sigh.

You, the maiden he picked, can only look in horror as he grows even harder under the hot water. The thick erection soon juts above the surface, the dark curls framing the base of his cock now floating lusciously underwater, the dark hair covering his full balls, too. Either he's just big everywhere or then he's been too busy during the weeks of the siege... The amount of times you've seen him abstain from meat in this castle is ridiculous, and you always wondered if he ate fish because he liked it or because he had defiled himself in his lust.

He's an animal, but having a woman is not a sin as foul as throwing his seed on the ground... And here he is, strong thighs spreading as far as they can go to give room to the astounding erection he’s having just from the prospect of your touch.

The knight leans back in the tub, looks at you with a drowsy, soft smile, and tells you not to be afraid. The thick, throaty voice leaves your knees completely weak.

“Ach so... Have you ever touched one of these before?”

#knight!könig #könig x you #könig x reader #historical au #yes Salome no wonder you don't get through your asks if you write a short drabble for 20% of them #historical au's are my ultimate weakness #deal with it ok ;_;

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lionneee · 1 month ago

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Your sworn sword

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: oral sex (male), degradation, knife play talking of sexual themes, piv, smut.•

Part 1 -> Part 2

{Request: I have a request! Aemond is send across the narrow sea to be the sworn sword/knight of a (verryy beautiful) princess from a noble house is esso’s. As punishment what he did to lucerysThanks for reading dear 💙}

Dear Jace,

I am begging you. I read your letter, and it shattered me from the inside.

Aemond’s presence scares me. My father can’t see it, but he is darkness.

He is empty inside.

I do not wish to be here any further, I want to escape. I will join your mother’s cause, I will do anything.

Please, just help me escape from him.

You Lady dear friend.

You wrote it weeks ago. During that time, you tried to avoid every possibility of being alone with Aemond.

What happened that night was something you were deeply ashamed of, and despite how good it felt, it was wrong.

You started to spend more time in the garden, you tried desperately to find some other ladies to be with, you even spent more time with your father.

You started to pay more attention to other people's approaches, you observed more, trying to understand if someone else other than you could have experienced something similar to what you did.

After the way Aemond left your room that night, after burning down Jace’s letter, you felt cold.

It wasn’t cold, but you still felt cold.

You felt alone. Unloved, unwanted.

You found yourself hoping for warm, strong arms to embrace your body, and secure you from the rest of the world.

You found yourself wishing for a different life.

Not as a Lady, but maybe as a commoner, a woman with a nice house out of the city walls, deep in nature, spending the day by taking care of the garden and the animals.

Aemond changed too after that night.

He got more violent.

You noticed the first time a couple did days later, when you were passing by the training yard, and you found him massacrating a mannequin.

He was still the cold, composed, stoic sworn sword you had always known from the outside, but there was something else, something you couldn’t quite name.

Then the day came.

Jace had answered you.

As soon as you held the letter in your hands, you flew in the garden, fidgeting expertly through the trees and flowers, trying to find a place where you knew Aemond would have never found you.

With trembling hands, you quickly broke the sigil with no house stamp on it, and opened the letter.

Dearest Lady friend,

I have tried to ignore your plea for help, for the good of my family, but I couldn’t. The weight of your words pulls on my heart, and though I am torn between duty and desire, I cannot leave you to face this peril alone.

I am familiar with my uncle’s cruelty, and I cannot bring myself to leave you to it.

I will fly on Vermax, and we shall meet at the confines of your land the same night you’ll receive this letter, in the woods, covered by the trees, where no eyes will find us, and no ears will hear our plans.

Run south, as far as you can before nightfall. There is a hollow oak at the edge of the river, a place where time has forgotten. Hide there until I arrive. You must trust no one. The walls have ears, and shadows grow long in the presence of danger.

Bring only what you need for the journey, whatever you might need in the future you will find it at Dragon Stone. I will fly hard and fast, praying to the Gods to favor us both. We will meet again under the moonlit sky.

Your dear friend, Jace.

He was coming to get you.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the weight of Jace’s words settled over you. He was coming to get you, and your long-awaited escape from this nightmare was now within reach. But with the promise of freedom came a flood of uncertainty. You could feel it, each step from this moment would be perilous.

You pressed the letter close to your chest, its words a fragile lifeline to a future you could barely dare to imagine.

You had to act fast.

With trembling fingers, you folded Jace's letter and tucked it inside your bodice. You couldn’t risk anyone finding it, not Aemond, not your father, no one. The moments you had were fleeting, and every second counted.

You rushed back to your chambers, moving with a quiet urgency. Every footstep felt like it echoed too loudly in the silent halls, as though each beat of your heart might betray you.

“Where were you?” Aemond snarled as he grabbed your arm, stopping you on the way back to the castle.

You turned and looked at him, swallowing with difficulty. You tried to put on a mask of indifference, trying to act as if your heart wasn’t pumping out of your breast.

“Breathing some fresh air.” You said. “In the garden.” You added to be more precise, knowing that he would have asked.

“You know you’re supposed to have me by your side. Always.” He added, his voice low and angry.

He was always so angry.

You knew you had to shake off any kind of suspect, so the best way you thought you could do, was to make him uncomfortable.

“I… I wasn’t feeling very well.” You said, earning a scoff from him, but you didn’t budge. “Ladies problem.” You added, hoping he would immediately drop the conversation. He looked down at you, silently, then he looked away, turning his head to the side.

“Don’t run again.” He growled, then he took a step back, waiting for you to start walking again. You nodded, and turned you back at him.

You were still tense. Too tense.

You took a deep breath and tried to relax your shoulders as you walked back in your room.

You held your hands tightly together on your lap, the excitement at the idea of escaping this place making your hands shake.

As soon as you reached your chambers you stopped a servant on her way out.

“Prepare me a bath, please.” The servant immediately nodded, and you slipped inside your room, leaving Aemond guarding the door.

You took a deep breath, running to your bed, taking Jace’s letter from your bodice to hide it in the pillows.

You were going to run away.

No more castle.

No more nasty looks from the ladies.

No more father.

No more Aemond.

Aemond.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Soon, nightfall would cloak the land in shadows, and that would be your chance. You stood at the window, your hands trembling slightly as you watched the sky darken. Time passed agonizingly slowly. The uncertainty tightened your chest. But you had to trust in Jace, in the bond you had shared since childhood.

In the love you held for each other.

He was your last hope.

As the final rays of light disappeared, you slipped out of your chambers and made your way to the courtyard.

You found an old dark cloak, you changed into a simple dress, cursing yourself for not owning any form of pants, then you waited.

You knew you couldn’t go out of the door, Aemond was there, he would have seen you and dragged you back in.

You also couldn’t crawl out of the window, it was too high.

You bit your lip, pacing back and forth.

Maybe if you made Aemond move.

You quickly walked to the door, the cloak hidden behind you and you opened the door of your room slightly.

No one.

Aemond wasn’t there.

He must have gone to grab something to eat or drink.

Perfect, it was perfect.

The moon, pale and full, began to rise, casting long shadows along the walls. The air was cool and crisp, and each breath felt like a battle against your nerves. You moved quickly, making sure not to draw the attention of any guards. You had memorized every path through the gardens, every hidden corner where you could disappear from sight.

Finally, you reached the edge of the woods. The dark canopy of trees stretched out before you, their towering forms offering both comfort and terror. You had to go. You glanced back at the castle, looming in the distance, its towers like sentinels watching over your every move.

Then, without looking back again, you ran.

The forest was thick, but you moved swiftly, guided by the faint silver light of the moon. Branches scraped at your skin, leaves whispered beneath your feet, but nothing could slow you down now. You had to reach the hollow oak, and had to find your way to safety before it was too late.

The hollow oak.

Jace had said it was a place where time had forgotten.

The sound of the river reached your ears before you saw it, a soft, rushing murmur that promised refuge. You followed it, breathless and trembling. Then you saw it: the ancient oak, its massive trunk gnarled and twisted by the ages. It stood like a guardian, waiting for you to step into its shelter.

“Back to the chasing, I see.” You screamed at the voice, so near your ear, and so familiar.

Aemond.

Run.

You immediately started running, hoping to leave Aemond behind.

Maybe if you tried to-

You heard a sound of metal dropping on the ground from a distance and froze.

He was dropping his armor.

To run faster.

To get to you.

You immediately started running again, trying to avoid the trees and roots to not fall, but your cloak kept getting caught in the branches.

You had to stop every time and pull it free, until at last, hearing a noise too close to you, you decided to take it off and leave it there.

You turned to start running again, hitting something and falling back on the floor.

Towering over you, with the most hateful look in the world, there was Aemond.

You crawled back, but he grabbed your ankle to pull you right where you were.

“You like running? Like a scared sheep?” He growled as he let go of your ankle, letting it drop back on the ground.

“Get-“

“Don’t.” He hissed. “Shut the fuck up.” He pulled off a dagger from his belt, and your body froze.

No.

“Aem-“

“I said. Shut. Up.” He repeated.

He knelt down before you and slipped the dagger under your bodice, then cut the first inches, making your breasts more exposed.

You gasped surprised as you looked up at him, anger written all over your expression.

“You-“ This time, you stopped yourself, his single eye was threatening enough.

He twisted the dagger expertly in his hand, so the blade was pointing towards him, and the handle was right in front of your face.

“Speak up. I dare you.” There was a faint smirk in his lip, an almost imperceptible curve at the side of his mouth.

You took the challenge.

You opened your mouth to speak, but as soon as you did so, you found yourself with the handle of the dagger between your lips.

You widened your eyes as looked at him, pulling back immediately, but he quickly placed his free hand behind your head, slipping his fingers in your hair.

“Suck.” He ordered as his eye moved to your lips. You let out a growl, that after a harsh, hurtful tug he gave to your hair, turned into a whine.

You huffed, irritated and started to suck the handle of the dagger.

His eye wouldn’t leave your lips, and soon, he started moving the dagger, so the handle would get further inside your mouth, almost to the blade, then he would pull it out.

You let out a gagged choked sound every time the tip of the handle would get too far in your mouth, your head instinctively trying to pull back, but his hand never allowed you to do it.

“Such perfect lips…” He hummed as he kept watching. “Used so wrongly.” His smirk widened as he looked at your eyes, which only hardened further with anger.

He pulled the dagger out of your mouth and stood up.

“You’re always so ready to talk back to me, uh?” He shook his head, chuckling bitterly to himself. “Make my life harder, as if being here wasn’t already an enough humiliation. But take care of you.” His lips curled. “I couldn’t have fallen lower.”

You would have never admitted it, but his words stinged. Hard.

“Then go away.” You hissed back. He looked back down at you and he undid his pants.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He breathed out a chuckle, pulling down his pants. “I just thought of teaching you another lesson.” He grabbed your hair harshly, pulling them back into a makeshift ponytail. “Stop avoiding me.” He growled, he gave a harsh tug at your hair, forcing you on your knees, pulling your face closer to his crotch.

Now you could see it.

It was long, pale and veiny.

The head was red, very red, enough to seem hurtful.

“Now open your mouth.” He ordered, looking down at you. There was a veil of darkness over his eye, but you strangely didn’t feel threatened by it.

Maybe that was the reason why you followed his instruction and opened your mouth.

Your mouth got filled with something bigger than a dagger handle.

Something that felt softer against your lips and your tongue, something salty.

You looked up at him as he put a hand over your throat, finding him already looking down at you.

“Those eyes almost make me want to do it gently.” He said softly, but his smirk said something else. “Almost.” He added in a lower tone of voice as his hips bucked forward, pushing his cock deeper in your mouth.

You immediately gagged, your eyes filled with tears as you tried to cough around him and tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Watch the teeth.” He growled as his hips moved again, this time less further, enough to not draw a bad reaction from you.

“Hollow your cheeks, my lady.” He said, his voice shifted into a mocking grunt at the last two words. “Breath through your nose.” He instructed.

He kept thrusting in your mouth until eventually, you didn’t feel the need to cough and pull away when the tip of his cock reached your throat. Aemond moved your head on his length, forcing you to always take more. His whole cock was drenched in saliva, it ran down to his stones and your chin, drooling on the ground as well, your cheeks stained with tears of effort.

“There.” He moaned, his eye never left you. “Learning something?” He chuckled as he threw his head back with a grunt, his hands moving your head faster. “It doesn’t matter if you’re not.” He added with a low chuckle. “You’ll have time to learn. Every morning, before breakfast time.”

You grunted, and hollowed your cheeks again, adding more friction to his movements.

“Fuck!” He growled and pushed you away, making you almost lose your balance and fall back. He looked down at you and grabbed your cheeks in his hand, squeezing them.

“You’re just begging to be fucked, uh?” He gave you a light slap on the face, the action leaving you more stunned than hurt.

He growled as he knelt down again, grabbing your hips and turning you on your hand and knees in a move, manhandling you at his liking.

You weren’t sure why you were letting him do everything he wanted.

Maybe because you knew he could make you feel it again.

Heaven.

He raised your skirts with urgency and grabbed the dagger from the ground to tear your underwear and thighs.

“Ladies problems, uh?” He chuckled, looking down at your core, glistening with juices. “My dearest friend.” He laughed, citing the letters between you and Jacaerys, as you felt your cheeks hot at his mocking tone, the way he made it sound like a lame, shameful way to address someone. “I’ll fuck you until you won’t be able to walk on those legs.” He said as he passed his fingers on your core, finding it drenched.

It only amused him more.

“You liked being taught a lesson?” He asked, he leaned forward, grabbing your hair to pull your head back, making you arch your back as he slipped his finger inside your mouth, making you taste the strange fluid.

“You drenched my cock enough, you had to be sure you too were wet enough? So I could fill that virgin cunt of yours?” He mocked you as your face felt hotter, shame filling your chest. You tried to mumble something, but he kept moving his finger in your mouth, making it impossible to speak a word. “What’s that?” You could hear how amused he was, and it sent another pang of shame through your body. “Right. Not so virgin anymore.” He slipped his fingers out of your mouth, straightening up to look back down at your core, grabbing your asscheeks and spreading them apart. “Not after my cock spreaded you open.”

He gritted his teeth, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you as he barely even slipped in.

You shifted on your place, biting your lower lip as you moved your hips back to meet him, to try to feel it again inside you.

Aemond obviously laughed at that.

“Not even resisting.” He hummed, pushing the angry tip of his cock past your folds, earning a sound between a moan and a whine. “Do you think you’re ready to take it all, mh?” He asked as he leaned forward, letting his length move further inside you.

You groaned as your fingers sighed in the dirt, your eyes rolled back as you felt him filling you slowly, inch by inch.

“They say it’s supposed to be painful the first time.” He said as he pulled your head back again, so he could see your face from above. “But look at you. You look like a whore.” He smiled and let go of your hair, letting you fall back on your hands. “Do you like the pain, my dearest friend ?” He pulled back, and thrusted back in with a firm, hard movement.

“Ah!” You gasped as your body jolted forward, a small pit in your lower stomach pulsing in pain, that you welcomed with a moan as Aemond slipped a hand between your bodies to rub at that sweet pearl hidden between your legs.

Aemond thrusted again, with the same force, slowly picking up the pace as the pain you felt started to fade away, leaving space for pleasure, pleasure and pleasure.

You couldn't have controlled it even if you could have, so you just let your voice out, moaning at every movement he did, focusing only on the heavenly feeling, not even hearing the puns of wings battling in the wind.

Aemond rose his eye to the dark sky, smiling.

“Look who’s here…” He hummed as he grabbed your hair again, tugging you back until your eyes looked at the sky.

A dragon.

Jace.

“He’s here for you, isn’t he?” He laughed in your ear. “Maybe we should invite him to watch.” He whispered.

Jace.

You thought.

I’m here. See me.

You watched as the dragon flew in circles for a while, getting closer to the ground, but then, he rose back up, faster, flying away at high speed.

“Looks like he won’t save you.” He added. “No chance to be a princess now.” He laughed. “Not that you’ve lost much. I could make you a queen.” He added in a lower voice.

“Impossible.” You choked out after another of his punishing thrusts. “You’re a-a second son.”

Aemond pulled his hand off your pearl, grabbing your hips and moving them back back against him, making sure his cock was deep inside you before he stopped his movements completely.

“I guess you’re right.” He whispered in your ear. “You’ll have to settle as my slut then.” He pushed you back down, until the side of your face pressed against the dirt, his hand tight on the back of your neck and he resumed his movements with a newfound speed, every thrust knocking the air out of your lungs. “Mine.” He clarified, his voice strained as he grabbed the skin of your ass again, spreading it apart to see his cock slamming inside you with a wet, squelching sound. “Hear how wet you are.” He moaned as he moved his hands to your hips, his fingers digging in your skin. “It doesn’t even look like you need to be saved.” He planted his feet on the ground, raising from his knees and bringing you back with him so he wouldn’t have to pull out, he stayed down, his legs bent as he started thrusting again, the new position allowing him to get deeper, touch spots inside you you didn’t know existed, his head bullying a particular place inside you, that make your jaw fall slack and your eyes roll in the back of your skull, your sounds reaching another volume, showing another level of pleasure.

“Yeah, moan for me.” He growled. “Moan and come for me, come on my cock —“ He panted. “Fucking drench it even more -“ He snarled as he managed to move faster, inhumanly possible, and drawing you closer to heaven.

You felt your stomach clench, tense almost painfully as your walls squeezed his cock, gifting your ears of another moan from him.

“Come.” He ordered. “Come on.” He added with some urgency.

You groaned louder, your hands closing into fists as you felt the tension snap, and you completely let go of everything.

“Aemond — !” You let out a long moan as your climax hit you, waves of pleasure crushing on your body, followed by some shivers that made you spasm lightly.

“Yes — Fuck!” He moaned as he pulled out of you, jerking himself furiously as he kept the tip of his cock pressed against your clit, his other hand on your lower back to keep you still as you tried to squirm from overstimulation as his tip rubbed against your pearl.

Aemond let out a choked moan as white strings of cum painted your core and inner thighs.

What followed was a moment of silence, except for your panting and the sounds wind and nature in the woods. You closed your eyes only for a moment, until you heard Aemond stand back up and start to walk away.

You panicked a little and lowered your skirts, raising on your hands as you tried to see his silhouette in the darkness.

Was he going to leave you like this?

In the middle of the woods?

You sat up on the ground, fixing your skirts as you looked around.

What if there were wolves around?

But then, two strong arms slipped under your knees and around your waist hoisting you up.

Aemond started walking out of the woods, where his horse was waiting.

“I would never leave you. Especially not like that.” He said calmly.

Hell the wolves.

You had a dragon.

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taking-thyme · 1 year ago

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🌅 Lucifer Deity Guide 🌅

Note: This is inspired by both my own experiences with Lucifer and the information I read on @scarletarosa's blog and her devotional guide to him. Please go read that one too!!

The divine rebel, Lucifer is the light of truth and divine wisdom; an ancient light which shines through the darkness, representing illumination. He is the driving force of innovation, liberation and transformation. According to Scarletarosa, who actively works with Lucifer and was told this by him, he was the first-born god of the Universe created by the supreme deity, the Source. He is so incredibly ancient and beautiful. Lilith was created to be his counterpart, the Queen of Heaven. However, Jehovah took the throne of heaven from Lucifer and cast him and his followers into hell. Most of them lost their connection to heaven and their energy became dark and intense. Jehovah claimed the throne of heaven and set himself up as the one true god, manipulating humans into betraying their original deities. Thus, Lucifer became the King of Hell and has been scorned by Christians for millenia.

God of: Illumination, Light, Darkness, Change, Rebirth, Challenges, Innovation, Logic, Truth, Knowledge, Wisdom, Strategy, Persuasion, Revolution, Luxury, Pleasure, Freedom, The Arts and The Morning Star (“Morning Star” is another name for the planet Venus)

Symbols: Sigil of Lucifer, The Morning Star, Violins and Fiddles (instruments traditionally associated with him)

Plants and Trees: Rose, Belladonna, Mulberry, Patchouli, Myrrh, Min, Tobacco, Marigold, Lilies, Hyacinth, Sage

Crystals: Amethyst, Black Obsidian, Onyx, Garnet, Selenite, Rose Quartz

Animals: Black Animals in general, Dragons, Snakes, Owls, Eagles, Ravens, Crows, Rams, Foxes, Pigs, Bats, Rats, Moths, Swans

Incense: Rose, Frankincense, Patchouli, Myrrh

Colors: Black, Red, Silver, Emerald Green, Gold

Tarot: The Devil

Planets: The Morning Star, Venus

Day: Monday and Friday

Consort: Lilith

Children: Naema, Aetherea and many others

How was he traditionally worshipped?

There is not much to say about how Lucifer was historically worshiped seeing as he wasn’t worshiped at all for a large chunk of human history. He seems to have been worked with in some capacity according to the Gesta Treverorum, written in 1231, which is where we first see the term Luciferian being used to refer to his worship. This was by a woman named Lucardis for a religious circle, who was said to lament to Lucifer in private and prayed to him. However, the term Luciferians was later applied to basically any groups Christians didn’t like and wanted to fight, as one might expect. However, the modern Luciferian movement also sheds light on how Lucifer is worshiped. For Luciferians, enlightenment is the ultimate goal. Their basic principles highlight truth, freedom of will and fulfilling one’s ultimate potential, and encourage the same in all of us. Traditional dogma is shunned because Luciferians believe that humans do not need deities or the threat of eternal punishment to know what is good and the right thing to do. All ideas are to be tested before being accepted, and even then one should remain critical because knowledge is fluid and ever-changing. Regardless of whether Luciferians view Lucifer as a deity or an archetype, he is a representation of ultimate illumination and exploration in the name of personal growth.

Epithets

Phanes

The Morning Star

Light-bringer

The First-born

Prince of Darkness

Son of Morning

The Glory of Morning

Lord of the Lunar Sphere

The First Light

Offerings

Red Wine, Whiskey (especially Jack Daniels), Champagne, Pomegranate Juice, Black Tea (especially earl grey), Chocolate (especially dark chocolate), Cooked Goat Meat, Venison, Apples, Pomegranates, Honey, Good Quality Cigars, Tobacco, Daggers and Swords, Silver Rings, Emeralds and Emerald Jewelry, Goat Horns, Black Feathers, Seductive Colognes, Red Roses, Dead Roses, Crow Skulls, Bone Dice, Devotional Poetry and Artwork, Classical Music (especially violin)

Devotional Acts

Acts of self-improvement, spiritual awakening and evolution, knowledge-seeking and dedication to spirituality ; Shadow Work ; Working to overcome your ego to become wiser ; Defending those in need ; Working to better yourself without being too self critical ; Fighting against tyranny and bigotry whenever you encounter it

Altar Decorations

Black or Red Candles, Snake and Dragon Figurines, His sigil, Roses, Fancy Chess Boards and Playing Cards, Silver Jewlery and ornaments, Black feathers, Goat horns

Appearance

For me Lucifer usually appears as a tall light-skinned man with long fiery red hair (so red it looks like it’s been dyed), a sophisticated face with a killer jawline, passionate eyes and dressed in a fancy black suit. From all my experiences with him and what I’ve heard from other followers, it seems Lucifer and most demons dress in full suits and tuxedos.

Personality

Lucifer is nothing if not charming. He’s a protector first and foremost - one that always works to help you better yourself, but a protector nonetheless. He feels like a protective older brother taking care of you while your parents are away. He is a very complex entity, deeply wise and eloquent. He is more serious than one might expect for a demon given their popular depictions in our culture as chaotic forces of evil, but Lucifer is full of courage and love. I often feel him with me even when I’m not doing things related to him. He is proud of his follower’s accomplishments and congratulates them on a job well done, though he also reminds them that the job is never truly over. Growth is constant. Lucifer is the epitome of growth, blunt and gentle at the same time, telling you what you need to do and giving you space to figure out how to do it.

Lucifer values resilience, the pursuit of self-betterment, intellectualism, courage, open-mindedness and responsibility in individuals and wants to see his followers develop these qualities. He is constantly rooting for you to reach your full potential. He won’t hold your hand the entire way, but he will help you take steps in the right direction. Lucifer, like all deities, is different for everyone and will adjust his approach depending on your needs.

^ The Sigil of Lucifer

#deity work #witchblr #witch tips #spirit work #lucifer deity #lucifer devotee #luciferian #luciferian witch #lucifer morningstar

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thewriterwithnoplan · 9 months ago

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THE WINTER KEEP (2/2)

Summary: You have fled the Red Keep, the Greens and Alicent's poison. It is time to play your hand and herald your mother's ascension on a larger scale. You will fly to Winterfell, treat with the Lord Cregan Stark and await your brother. You are weak and a girl, no longer. You are a dragon ready to spill blood to ensure your promises are kept.

[Part 2 to The Highest Tower]

Soulmate AU: Your animal familiar leads you to your soulmate.

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Reader

Word Count: 5631

Warnings: Canon typical warnings, swearing, canon divergence, my first time writing for hotd, pretty sure I'm missing something...

Masterlist

Laesuvion had taken to the skies through a hole in the dragon pit. Swift and lethal and stealthy as a white dragon against dark clouds could be. Come morning the whole of Kings Landing would know that you had fled. Come morning the usurper King and his council of snakes would be plotting your demise. You would need every advantage, every inch of distance you could gain before they found the wherewithal to send men after you. The Queen could protect you no longer, your time as her ward had passed. As Laesuvion crested the skies above the Red Keep, and you urged him north, you left just as you had arrived all those years ago. Rhaenyra’s only daughter. Her greatest supporter. Her most loyal weapon.

It took some days to fly north, you rested only once. On the second night of flying, setting down in the swamplands just beyond Greywater Watch. You swaddled yourself in your flying cloak and huddled in a hollow tree as Laesuvion hunted. Sleep came in fitful bursts, each gust of wind and animal sound convincing you that despite your head start from having flown through night and day and night again, the king's loyal men had somehow found you. You awoke around dawn to find Laesuvion’s bulk curved around your tree, his breathing deep and rhythmic in sleep. You crept toward his front claws and the charred mass caged there.

Your first food in some hours, since the day prior when you had polished off the meagre supplies you had smuggled out of the Keep. You tore charred clumps from what might have once been a deer or livestock from a nearby farm. You set these aside in case Laesuvion woke hungry, as you shredded his offering until– There, protected by the cocoon of hardened char, well-cooked meat. You gorged yourself.

You took to the skies an hour later, dehydration your greatest enemy so close to the searing sun. You wrapped your cloak around you, tied yourself firmly to the saddle and tried desperately to catch another snatch of rest. Through that morning, that evening and night, Laesuvion tore through the skies of Westeros.

You landed in the Northlands on the third dawn of your travels. The south gate of Winterfell rose to greet you, a small host of men waiting under its shelf. Dehydrated, exhausted, terrified, you could have wept with joy.

“Holt!” You startled. It was a woman.

“I mean no harm.” You dismounted Laesuvion carefully, moving purposefully to disguise your limb's feeble shakes. At eye level, though separated by a good fifty yards you repeated, “I mean you no harm.”

“Your dragon?” The woman demanded.

The men shifted nervously as Laesuvion gave a chest-deep rumbling purr. “Merely glad to have found our destination.”

“Come forward.”

“To whom do I speak?” You inched forward, Laesuvion nosing at your back.

“Sara Snow.” Up close you found Sara Snow to be very beautiful. With ebony hair twisted in intricate braids and eyelashes so long they caught snowflakes. A true northern beauty, with a sword strapped to her back and a pelt secured to her shoulders.

“I seek an audience with Lord Cregan Stark.”

“He is in a meeting with his men.”

“He will want to speak to me.” You smiled pleasantly, “He owes loyalty to my mother, the Queen.”

“House Stark owes loyalty to King Viserys.” Sara jutted her chin, “No oaths were sworn to his lady-wife.”

“You misunderstand me, Sara Snow. I speak of my mother, the Realms Delight. Queen Rhaenyra to whom Lord Rickon swore fealty.”

The men sent furtive glances to one another. Sara paused and then curtsied. “Forgive me, Princess. The North had not heard word of you for some years now, we feared you had been lost.”

“Ah, I have been kept to the Keep for some time.”

“Winterfell is most honoured to–” Sara turned.

The sound of crunching snow, hurried footsteps, quickened breath. One of Sara’s men toppled to the ground as a dire wolf barrelled through his legs. Pitch black but frosted with snow, it careened toward you. The man giving chase shouted the wolf’s name, skidded around the line of men, and stumbled to a stop mere inches in front of you. In what seemed to be perfect, practised coordination, Laesuvion jammed his snout into your back as the dire wolf danced around his owner's legs. In a heap of limbs, winter cloaks, and riding leathers, you collapsed on the man and fell to the snow.

You wheezed; the air knocked from your lungs. Your limbs shook as you scrambled up, plating a hand on the man's face as leverage.

“Sir.” You hissed; with all the royal poise you could muster. Alicent would be appalled. Your mother would be beyond amused.

“My apologies, lady.” The man grabbed your hips to lift you from him. Mortified you slapped his hands away and fought to your feet. “If you would just let me–”

You struggled, “Unhand me!”

“Here, just–” You planted a knee in his groin. He tried to curl up beneath you.

“Get off me!” You gave him a harsh shove and fumbled to your feet. “How dare–”

Sara Snow launched into raucous laughter. Hand clutching her side as she howled in delight. Her men shuffled as if wondering whether to intervene. Your assailant hobbled to his feet, one handheld protectively over his front, the other outstretched toward you as if to keep you at a distance.

You whirled toward Sara, “What is the meaning of this?”

“Apologies, lady.” The man heaved, his dire wolf prancing about his feet. “It was an honest accident. Shadow has been tense of late.”

“You let your wolf run wild in such a way?” You sneered.

“As wild as you allow your dragon to be.”

As if on cue, Laesuvion pressed the length of his head to your back again. The dire wolf herded his owner.

“Laesuvion?” You turned, pressing your freezing fingers to the scales of his nose. “Lykirī, iōrās aril.” (be calm, stay back).

He huffed and shoved at your hands. You toppled again; this time the man caught you against his chest. Laesuvion shuffled back, his tail swishing through the snow in a great arch. A growl rumbled up his throat as one of Sara’s men tried to approach.

“Ah.” The man smiled down at you in understanding.

You tried shoving at him again, but his grip held firm. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I am a wolf pup or a precious stone, or some covetous thing.”

“You are more precious than both I fear, and certainly something to covet.” He held your forearms to contain your struggle. “I have waited many years to find my Promised. I did not imagine you would be so violent.”

Sara coughed, “Welcome brother. Might I be the first to introduce you to our Princess, daughter of Rhaenyra. She has come from King’s Landing to treat with you.” She sketched a bow, her lips still trembling, “Your Highness, my brother, the Lord Cregan Stark.”

You gaped, your mouth opening and closing. A myriad of emotions warmed your face. Bone deep mortification. The purest delight. Wonderment. Utter confusion. Behind you, the dire wolf, Shadow, ran playfully around Laesuvion. Your dragon moved to face the tiny yipping creature, stealing his warm breath from your back. You shivered the cold striking through you like a physical blow.

“Princess?” Cregan Stark asked softly. “Are you well?”

“I am cold and hungry and tired, and I wish to bathe.” You said in a rush, utterly horrified with yourself.

But your Promised only smiled, “Of course.”

Cregan Stark was a most gracious host. In the hours since your arrival, you had been given quarters in the same hall as that of the Starks. A maid had gone about filling the tub in your rooms with water warmed on the fire, to which she added fragrant oils and sweet-smelling soap. As you bathed the maid returned – Atara, you learned – to ply you with cheeses and fresh bread, soft meats, and stewed root vegetables. Once you had been thoroughly scrubbed and fed, you dressed in the soft night clothes Atara had brought with her and curled up in the thick expanse of blankets atop your bed.

You were allowed to sleep for far longer than you might have suspected. Only being roused by Atara once the sun had well and truly set.

“Your Highness, Lord Stark asks that you join his family for dinner.”

You tumbled out of bed, and over to the dresser where you let her braid back your hair in the northern style. She handed you a thick winter dress that Sara had sent for you to borrow and allowed you to don it yourself. Stepping in only to tighten the taught laces at its back. You delighted in the simple joy of dressing yourself, so used to the Queen’s maids who scrubbed you raw and laced you tightly into dresses all shaded the same insidious green.

Atara whispered to you as she led you through the halls of Winterfell, “Lord Stark is a good and generous man. He has been Warden of the North for some years now, he is a just leader and kind to those in his employ. It is his uncle, who was his regent, and his power-hungry cousins you must watch.”

“Will they be at dinner?”

“No, they are north and east in Karhold. Though his sister will be present.”

“Sara Snow. She is his sister born? I assumed the Lord was her brother-at-arms, not a true blood relative.”

“Indeed,” Atara corralled you down another cavernous hall. “She is his sister and among his most trusted advisors.”

“Why does she bear the name Snow?”

“It is the surname given to those born out of wedlock in the north.”

“And this is not an issue in the north?”

Atara considered it for a moment, “For some it is. But Lord Stark is a better man than most.”

You wondered if she had been sent to sing his praises or if the people of the north were truly so enamoured with their lord.

“Is he not married?” You asked hesitantly, the thought had not yet crossed your mind.

Atara grinned, “He is not, Your Highness.”

“Nor betrothed?”

“Nor does he have a lover.” She assured. “We servants would know.”

“Thank you, you have been most enlightening.” You smiled as you reached the Stark’s private dining hall, “I will see to myself tonight. Please, enjoy your evening.”

Atara curtsied, “Have a most wonderful night, Your Highness.”

You most certainly would.

The Starks took private dinners in a humble hall. Three places had been set at the far end of the dining table with a generous spread laid out between them. Cregan and Sara looked up from their conversation as you crossed to your seat.

“My apologies, Lord Stark, Lady Snow.” You bowed your head. “I did not mean to keep you waiting.”

Sara snorted into her cup, “Please, Princess, formalities are for the feasting hall and for those whose names you cannot remember.”

“Sister,” Cregan hissed.

You fought a smile, “Forgive me, Sara, I would not have you think I had forgotten your name already.”

“How does the dress fit?”

“Wonderfully,” You swished from side to side, “You are most generous.”

“I have never had a sister,” she said thoughtfully.

Cregan spluttered into his cup. You grinned, “Nor I.”

You thought only briefly of Heleana and her mother and their glittering cage.

Cregan leapt from his seat to pull yours out for you, “Please, ignore my sister, she is overly friendly.”

“Please, ignore my brother,” Sara mocked. “He is overly nervous.”

“Tis not everyday one meets their Promised.” He met your eyes fleetingly.

What a soft demeanour for the Warden of the North, you thought. Though you supposed you had smiled more today than you had in all your years in the Red Keep, so perhaps today was not a good judge of anyone’s character. You allowed him to serve up your plate as Sara kept up a steady stream of conversation. First marvelling at the fit of her dress on you, then the colour of your eyes, your hair in northern braids, your improved state after some well-needed rest.

“Is she not a sight, dear brother?” She teased.

“I apologise for my earlier state of unkempt.” You winced. You had hit the Lord of this castle, your Promised rather hard.

“I thought you looked marvellous.” Cregan argued, then seemed to realise what he’d said and hurried to add, “We have received reports that your dragon has taken to the Wolfswood.”

You exhaled slowly, “Laesuvion flew through day and night twice over to get me here so swiftly. He will be in need of food and rest as much as I.”

“Laesuvion. That is a beautiful name.” He said softly. “We can send meat if you wish?”

“He is a good hunter; he has fed himself since I was ten.”

“Still to have flown so fiercely, with so little rest…”

“It does not do well to deprive a dragon of its hunt. Especially in such times as these.”

Cregan placed his utensils down carefully, “Princess, what has brought you to Winterfell?”

You lowered your fork. Good, time to stop dancing around the subject. From the pocket of your skirt, you withdrew the King’s missive.

“I am not sure how far and fast word has travelled,” You looked to the siblings and frowned. “King Viserys is dead, and Aegon has been crowned in my mother's place. The night of his coronation Queen Alicent gave me this letter for you, Lord Stark, she wishes for us to marry.”

Cregan broke the seal of the King’s letter and read silently.

“There are worse things than to be told to marry ones Promised,” Sara joked lamely. You smiled weakly in the tense silence.

Finally, Cregan folded the letter and turned to you, “Why were you with the Queen, not with your mother on Dragonstone?”

“I have been the Queen’s ward for some nine years now.”

“And are you loyal to her?”

“As a dog is to its owner.”

“They are very loyal in the North,” Sara said.

“I was traded to her as reparations when my brother gorged her son's eye.” You said plainly, “I was her possession, but I remain my mother’s daughter.”

“House Stark swore fealty to Princess Rhaenyra when she was made heir,” Cregan watched you carefully. “There has never been a Stark who has forgotten an oath.”

“I too have made a promise to my mother. I intend to keep it.”

Cregan brandished the letter, “This offers your hand in return for the North’s neutrality in the coming conflict. Is that what you wish?”

“May I speak plainly, my lord?”

“Please.”

“That letter is likely a forgery by the Dowager Queen’s hand. She is mistaken on many fronts, I fear, the least of which was Aegon’s ascension to King. I do not wish to go to war with my kin, but if it becomes inevitable I would rather do so with strong allies and in support of my mother.”

His head tilted, “House Stark is already an ally of your mother.”

“Yes,” You folded your hands on the table. “I should tell you, Lord Stark. My mother has sworn to marry me to my Promised for my service as her spy in the Red Keep.”

“You wish us to marry?”

“I wish to offer you my hand, outside my mother’s promise or the Queen’s demands.” You cleared your throat, and just as you had carefully prepared on your journey here you said, “I have been trained in the ways of the court, I will be of use to you in councils and in handling the affairs of your territory. I am of royal breeding, you will be made Prince-Consort, our children Princes, and Princesses of the realm. I have dragon eggs for their cradles and Valyrian blood for their veins. I would ask only that you allow Laesuvion to stay with me in the North. If not, I shall wait here until such a time as my brother Jacaerys comes to treat with you, that I might return with him to Dragonstone.”

You watched the Lord, his eyes dancing with an unnamed light as he listened to you. “I will need time.”

“Of course, my Lord, speak with your advisors.”

“You misunderstand him, Princess.” Sara grinned.

Cregan smiled, “I will not marry you hastily. I will need to summon my family and prepare a feast. It is a special thing, for those of our station, to be given leave to marry our Promised.”

“I–” You were unsure what you expected. “I suppose it is.”

Sara clapped gleefully, “Shall we call for dessert?”

You wore the soft nightclothes once more as you sat at your vanity and penned your mother a letter.

Mother,

How I have missed you. Know that I have thought of you often and never strayed from my mission nor my loyalty to you.

I have fled King's Landing and taken the Lord Hands life with me. Though the smallfolk have no mind to protest whichever Targaryen collects their taxes, you have many allies in the Red Keep. I have interred a list of those Lords and Ladies who remain loyal to you as well as those I have heard of beyond and some whom we may turn with careful diplomacy.

I am at Winterfell with my Promised, Lord Cregan Stark, whom I will marry in the coming weeks. With your blessing, of course. I await Jacaerys, with news of our family and our strategy. In the meanwhile, I intend to discuss what supplies and men Winterfell may have to offer you.

Mostly I am writing to you because I can. I am overwhelmed with the freedom to do so, to be able to tell you once more how much I love you. I cannot imagine how this week has been for you, know that though we are separated I am your most fierce supporter.

I have had a thought, in my hours here, about how far Winterfell is from the capital. How far we will be if we are forced into battle and bloodshed. Perhaps you might consider sending Joffery here, to mine and my soon-to-be Lord Husband's care.

I hope you are well, Mother. I love you from the very depths of my heart.

You signed the letter with a careful flourish and set it aside. You would ask Atara where you might find a raven-master to have it sent. You touched your fingers to it softly, your first contact with your family in nearly a decade. To tell your mother that you were preparing for marriage and war.

As you blew out your candles and settled into bed, you hoped your mother would like Lord Cregan Stark.

On your fourth morning in Winterfell, you took morning tea with Sara. She had taken lengths to make you comfortable in the days since your arrival, and you took great joy in breaking your fast with her each morning. Today, you spent the early hours humming and haring over the tiny sample cakes you had been sent to taste for the upcoming feast. As you ate, Sara told you all that she could about the castle, the arriving lords, the Stark territory, and their histories.

Northern marriage traditions, you had learned, were not so different from those celebrated at King’s Landing, there would be the exchanging of cloaks and binding words spoken before gods but there would also be a hunt. Women such as yourselves would not be invited but you would find your own fun, Sara assured.

“It is tradition to have the pelts in your quarters and the meats on the feasting table.”

You lifted a citrusy cake between your thumb and forefinger, “Husband and wife share quarters here?”

“Most,” Sara said thoughtfully, “Though I’m sure Cregan would accommodate you if it is different in the south.”

“What happens if their hunt is unsuccessful?”

“I imagine there will be much embarrassment among the North, that we could not bring our Princess quarry for her wedding table.” Sara snatched the half-eaten cake from your hands and winked, “Fear not, Cregan is a good hunter.”

“If he is not,” You smiled fiendishly, “I suppose the two of us will have to find meats for the feast ourselves.”

Sara snorted, “I think my brother would be rather put out at being unable to provide you with a gift on your wedding day. But the look on his face as we return from our own hunt is almost worth it.”

You jolted, “Am I to bring him a gift?”

“You have brought him dragon eggs.”

“For our children.” You argued.

“For his heirs,” She assured, “I think he is already downtrodden at the idea of only being able to bring you fur and meat.”

“I bring only scales and fire.”

“You will be a very warm family.”

“And very well-fed.”

Sara snatched another cake from you, “Only if you keep eating all of these before I get a taste!”

You guffawed. “I am hungry, and they are so tiny!”

“They need be, so you can keep eating.”

“And I shall!”

“Your Highness, Lady Snow,” Atara curtsied as she entered, “Lord Stark has requested your presence in the courtyard.”

“Another lord has arrived?” Sara sank her teeth into another teacake. “Which house does he hail from?”

“No Lord, my Lady.” Atara looked to you uneasily, “A Prince. Of House Targaryen.”

After nearly nine years kept apart by the waters of Blackwater Bay, and three long days separated by your duties, the time had come. You caught your first look at your eldest brother as you left the comfort of the Great Keep and nearly crumpled to the ground. Sara laid a steadying hand at your shoulder as Atara whispered sweet comforts. But nothing could prepare you for the sight laid out in the courtyard.

Jacaerys, with Vermax perched atop the walls of the keep. Jacaerys, with tousled dark hair. Jacaerys, once the awkward boy you followed dutifully, now an emissary of the Queen. Jacaerys, your brother. Jacaerys, your mother’s son.

“Jacaerys!” You ran. Past Sara and Atara, past Cregan and his warning cry. You ran. Almost straight into the end of your brother’s sword. You pulled to a halt, the blade a whisper away from your sternum, “Jacaerys?”

“Sister,” He sneered. “How far you are from your castle.”

“I have escaped.”

“You have been sent as an emissary of the usurper and his cunt-mother.”

“She did not tell you?” Your arms slumped at your side. “Mother sent me as a spy, she and Daemon trusted me to–”

“Her trust was misplaced. You have betrayed us.”

“I have come here to rally the North for our mother’s claim, just as you have.”

“You have come here to better your station.”

“I am a Princess.” You hissed, confused, and insulted.

“You are Princess of nothing, of no house.”

“I am of House Targaryen,” You pressed forward until the tip of his sword tore through the bodice of your dress and blood welled. You turned, held out your hand and gave Cregan a pleading look, he shifted but stayed back. “I am Princess of loyalty, of oaths and duty. I have come to the North to escape the Greens, to tell our mother, the Queen, all that I have discovered these years.”

“Where was loyalty,” Jacaerys shook with rage. “When they dragged us before the Iron Throne and called our mother a whore and our brothers bastards? Where was duty, when Lucerys was nearly stripped of his birthright? Where were you when Laenor died? When Rhaenys flew to our mother's side to tell her of–”

“Our father is dead?” You whispered.

“Your father is Daemon.” He growled under his breath.

You reeled back, “My father is Laenor Velaryon.”

“It is Daemon. He told us so himself when he married Mother.”

“Daemon and mother are married?”

His sword sagged slightly, “The Greens did not tell you? What of Viserys and Aegon?”

“Our grandsire and uncle?”

Jacaerys looked pained, “Our brothers.”

You fell to your knees, shoved your face in your hands and wept. Jacaerys jerked his sword backward and staggered away from you as Cregan rushed to your side.

“Princess?” He wrapped a protective arm over you. “What is the matter?”

“The question of Driftmark’s succession,” Jacaerys stared at you in horror. “Where were you?”

“I did not know!” You sobbed. “I did not know!”

“Otto Hightower said you would not see us, that you felt abandoned and betrayed when Mother gave you to the Greens.”

Cregan pulled you closer to him as Jacaerys inched forward. He growled, “Stand back. You have no enemies among the Starks. Do not make one.”

“I went willingly, for mother, for Lucerys.” You glared up at your brother. “You watched me! I traded my life; you watched me do it!”

“Otto Hightower–”

“Is dead!” You bared your teeth. “I fled King’s Landing, and I killed the man who usurped our mother, and you as her heir. I am loyal, I am steadfast, I am your greatest supporter as heir.”

“Tis true.” Cregan attested. “She has come to the North in support of your mother's claim. She has offered her hand to me, and we have talked much of giving your mother’s children sanctuary here.”

“You are betrothed?” Jacaerys whispered.

“I am.” You said proudly.

Cregan smiled at you softly, “The North is yours, my Prince. So long as my Promised wills it.”

“Sister.” Was all Jacaerys could say. “Sister.”

“Come,” Cregan lifted you to your feet. “My betrothed will catch a cold out here, let us speak inside.”

Cregan sat you gently by the fire swaddling you in the great expanse of his cloak. Sara brought tea to your side while your brothers sat at the other end of the room to discuss politics.

“Did you hear?”

Sara blew on her cup, “I heard a lot.”

“Did you hear what he said about my father?”

“That you lost one? Or that…” She pursed her lips.

“That I am Daemon’s bastard.”

“I did.”

“Do you think Cregan heard?” You burrowed into his cloak.

She gave you a secret smile, “Does it matter? You are a Princess, twice over. And Cregan keeps me around, does he not?”

“I only meant…” You turned away. “I fear he may think me liable to follow in my mother’s footsteps.”

“Will you?”

You stared at her, “Cregan has been kind to me, listened to me, protected me – given me more than anyone has ever offered me. And he is my Promised. Why should I stray from him?”

“Then there is no reason to fret.”

“And the King’s Hand?”

“What of him?”

“I killed him.” You half hid your face in your teacup.

“Do you regret it?” Sara asked curiously. “It is no small thing, to kill a man.”

“He has haunted my family for generations. I would do it again.”

Sara shrugged, “Then we will speak no more of it, justice has been served. I’m sure Cregan will more than agree.”

“Will he?”

“He has been forced to make decisions even further North of here, at the wall.” She took a long sip of tea and stared into the flames. “Some even I do not agree with. But we are family, and he is your Promised. So, it does not matter, does it?”

“No.” You stared into your cup. “I suppose not.”

“Princess!” The man in question came over with a charming grin, “Your brother has offered to escort you at our wedding.”

Jacaerys looked at you timidly, “If you will have me, sister.”

You looked first to Cregan who nodded, and then to Jacaerys with a soft smile. “Of course, brother. Nothing would please me more.”

The letter from your mother arrived another four days later. It came to you clutched in Jacaerys’ hand with the seal broken. He had caught the raven just south of Winterfell as he, Cregan and the Northmen returned from the ceremonial hunt.

“I apologise, sister, I have never been accused of being patient.”

You scoffed, “Some things do not change.”

“Indeed,” Jacaerys said rather gravely. “I must ask a small favour of you before I give you this letter. It is on behalf of myself and our mother.”

You straightened, “Of course brother.”

“You will not open it until after you have been blissfully wedded to Lord Stark.” He paused at your dubious look, “Mother has words she wishes to share only after your wedding. Congratulations and such.”

“I suppose that is agreeable.” You took the letter carefully, “Though we require her blessings to move forward.”

“And you have them.” He tapped the letter. “In there. You shall marry your Promised tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

And so, you married him that night.

The Godswood was eerie in the darkness of night. Though lit by the torches of countless Northmen, it felt as if the darkness were reaching cool unnatural fingers toward your procession. Coaxing you, in your red-black Maiden Cloak toward the foot of the weirwood heart tree, where your Lord-Promised, his uncle, and the dire wolf Shadow wait. Jacaerys held your hand tightly as if frightened to let you go. Around you, Lords and honoured guests planted their torches in the snow, lighting the way for you and your brother. The wind whistled through the silence, broken only by the great rumbling in Laesuvion’s chest where he perched on the lip of the keep’s gate.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Called Bennard Stark.

Jacaerys whispered your name, then cleared his throat in embarrassment and announced it proudly, "Daughter of the House Targaryen, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?"

"Cregan, of House Stark,” Your Promised sent you a small secret smile, “Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. Who gives her?"

"Jacaerys, of the House Velaryon, who is her brother and Prince." Jacaerys gave your hand a firm squeeze as he gave you to Cregan.

"Princess,” Lord Bennard made an admirable effort to say your name without disdain, “Will you take this man?"

You took Cregan’s large warm hands in your own and smiled, “I take this man.”

Silently, hands joined, you knelt to the cold earth. Around you, the Lords of the North fell to their knees and bowed their heads in deference. Foreheads pressed together, you and Cregan offered silent prayers to the Old Gods. When you stood as one, Sara was there in her uncle's place, a cloak of thick, luscious fur in the silver-grey of House Stark.

You tipped your head back as Cregan fiddled with the ties of your Maiden’s Cloak. You smiled at the sky as he struggled gently against your neck. Finally, it loosened, there was a brief shock of cold and then there was wonderous heat, the furred collar tickling your chin. You look to Cregan then, donned in his colours, wrapped in his protection. You smile softly at one another and lean into a soft kiss.

The black sky lights up with swashes of red as Laesuvion spits fire at the stars.

All at once sound returns to the Godswood as the witnesses of your nuptials cheer, chief among them is your brother. You laugh in delight as Cregan grips your cheeks and plants another kiss on your lips. Shadow yips at your heels as your husband sweeps you up into his arms and carries you toward the Great Hall.

He whispers sweet promises for your future, and you have never been more grateful to know how fiercely a Stark is at keeping their word.

It was the wolf’s hour when the festivities swelled through the Great Hall and you found yourself drawn to a quiet corner. You excused yourself from your husband by pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. He smiled softly at you and trailed his fingers from yours as you walked toward the hearth roaring at the far end of the hall. You pulled your mother's letter from your pocket and pressed your fingers against her seal as if you could fuse the two halves back into a whole. She and Jacaerys would not mind, you were sure, it was your wedding day after all, and you craved an inch of your mother’s presence.

You unfolded her letter and read:

My dearest girl,

I have never doubted you and I do not do so now.

You have my blessings. Marry the Lord Cregan Stark and take joy in your Promised. I will entrust Baela and Rhaena to bring your young brothers into your care.

You have served me well, which is why I write to you now, though my heart tells me to spare you.

Aemond has taken Lucerys’ life. War has come.

You looked up gripping the letter until your fingers drew indents in the paper and made desperate eye contact with Jacaerys’ pained face. A sound halfway between a scream and a sob tore from your throat, drowned by the thundering roar of Laesuvion overhead. Cregan stood, fighting to stumble his way toward you, as the walls of Winterfell rattled with your fury.

Nine years you had spent in the Red Keep, learning your enemies inside and out. Carefully ushering pieces across a board too vast for you to comprehend, hoping desperately you could stop a war conceived long before you. It all narrowed to this moment. Wrapped in the cloak of your husband’s house, framed by the hearth fire, as your dragon raged above.

Your Brother. Your Dragon. Your Husband.

By Blood. By Fire. By the Old God’s Promise.

You would avenge your brother and bring war to the Greens.

#cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #queen alicent #alicent hightower #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #otto hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #soulmate au

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notjustjavierpena · 7 months ago

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Meadow (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

Summary: Javier hears you singing to his newborn.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, sugary fluff, Javi POV, babies!

Word count: 850

Meadow

Javier tries to be quiet as he returns to you, carrying a stuffed Eeyore in his hand while listening for the sound of Inés' unhappy hiccups. He calculates his steps on the ground to make sure not to step on a twig or a branch, the crackle of it sure to distress his newborn even more.

He finds that the tall grass dotted with wildflowers and the soft earth is forgiving of his feet, so much so that his presence goes completely unnoticed by you. He never knew that this spot existed, having always treated the road as nothing more but a road until you showed him that its surroundings were so much more. There’s a metaphor somewhere in that, something about him just passing through and you making him able to stop and take a look around.

The sun is warm on his exposed skin, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and you have convinced him to leave the jeans for a pair of comfortable slacks instead. He checks the time to see how long he has been gone and it’s nothing more than a few minutes, realizes that the sun is starting to fade from being at its highest point today.

As he draws nearer to the spot you chose, Inés’ cries have died down completely until they are not heard at all. Instead, it is the soft sound of your voice that drifts through the air to him. You are singing quietly to his daughter, a lullaby that he remembers having heard before in a distant memory of his own childhood.

A breeze rustles the leaves of the oak tree you sit beneath, its crown of leaves protecting you both from direct sunlight. As if forced by nature to relax, he hears the birds chirping too. This is peace and contentment, he thinks, and how wonderful it is to do nothing with the people that he loves the most.

When he finally spots you, he finds you sitting on the blanket you brought with your sweater tucked underneath your slightly bent knees. Inés is resting in your lap, cradled by your soft arms, and sleeping soundly with her tiny fingers curled into fists. You are so beautiful as you stare down into his daughter’s blissful face, your smile even warmer in the soft glow of the sun.

Occasionally, you run a thumb over the length of her nose but you never stop singing to her. The stuffed animal seems a waste of time now but if he hadn’t gotten it from the car, he would have never caught you like this.

How has he gotten so lucky, he wonders, to have such an incredible woman to be the witness of his life? He cannot believe how sentimental you have made him, his chest aching as he watches your beauty grow even further as it is enhanced by the nature around you. More than a decade in Colombia and he thought he would never feel anything again. How ridiculous a thought that is.

When he finally makes himself known again, bursting the bubble of quiet admiration he has been in, you turn your head when he kneels down beside you. You stop singing but Inés sleeps on.

Without a word, you notice Javier and then smile until it widens into a grin on your face that outshines the summer sunshine. He smiles back and places Eeyore on the ground in front of you, purposefully posing him to stand in the grass because you always hate when he is careless about stuffed toys.

“I hope he doesn’t mind getting left in the car,” he whispers as he makes sure Eeyore won’t tip over, “Sorry it took a bit.”

“It’s okay,” you say quietly, “You have made it up to him; grass is his favorite.”

“Papá! There are frogs here!” Suddenly, his four-year-old son emerges from somewhere in the tall grass, carrying a stick in his hand that he seems to be using as a sword. He grins widely as he approaches the three of you, nearly stumbling over his own feet as he walks quickly on the uneven ground and Javier holds out his hand in case he has to catch him.

“Careful, Muchacho (young man),” Javier chuckles, “You might scare them away if you trip.”

“I found the biggest frog ever!” Lucas brags and falls into his father’s embrace, throwing his arms around his neck, “I want to show you!”

Javier looks at you to silently ask if you need him. Lucas presses on, “Come on, Dad!”

Inés fusses a little at being woken up by the noises around her. You take the stuffed animal and wiggle it in the air in front of her. You start singing again. It is something about meadows and daisies, something about being warm and kept from harm.

“Go,” you stop briefly to urge him, “We’ll be here when you come back.”

And as Javier gets up from the ground and takes his son’s hand, he smiles because he knows that you will.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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starryevermore · 5 months ago

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you said you were gonna come find me ✧ cardan greenbriar

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: cardan greenbriar x fae!fem!reader

request: part 2 of the cardan fic?? - anon

summary: and you didn't wanna hang around. she said it was just goodbye for now. he said he was gonna grow up, then he would come find you.

word count: 1,728

warnings?: dual povs, a little angst with a happy ending, not proofread

PART ONE | PART THREE

The local children were convinced you were a witch. Part of you wanted to tell them that you were worse than a witch—that you could turn them into animal of your choosing, that you could make them do things and think they liked it, that you could ruin their lives by virtue of existing. Perhaps that was the heartache talking, so you instead shouted “boo!” when you caught them staring for too long. You supposed, though, you fed into the rumors of your being a witch. You came into this town out of nowhere, lived far away from the rest of its people, and only interacted with them when you went into town for food or a new library book. No one knew who you were or where you came from. At first, you reveled in the solace.

Now, you were only painfully are of how lonely you were.

When you left Faerie, you went as far as you could from your former home. Traveled up to the mountains, found an abandoned cabin you could hole up in. There were few faeries in this area, mostly solitary fae that you would encounter while on walks in the woods, which had been the draw. Months later, you found yourself wishing you had set yourself up in one of the communities of fae who lived in the mortal lands. Would you be admitting defeat to leave the cabin now and join them?

It wasn’t all horrible in your little cabin. Being away from court and all of its expectations was nice. You didn’t have to worry about carefully mincing your words so as not to offend anyone. You weren’t dragged into dances you would rather avoid. And you certainly did have to let your heart break over and over again as Jude at Cardan’s side. No, instead, you could read and write poetry and tend to the little garden you had started. You could find your happiness, even if it was without the one person you truly wanted by your side.

You wondered how Cardan was doing. Had he even noticed you were gone? Did he care? He had seemed to miss seeing you when you danced with him on your last night in Faerie. But he had also not made any prior efforts to seek you out. Fae couldn’t lie, but they could manipulate. They could twist the truth to serve their interests. Few were better at doing so than Cardan.

“When I learned you left Faerie, this was not the sort of place I expected you to be.”

You stiffened as you rounded the corner. The basket you’d been using to carry the herbs you foraged nearly fell from your grip. You squared your shoulders, looked down your nose at the woman seated at your dining room table. “I did not come here under the expectation to be found.”

Jude considered the room. The dirty dishes in the sink, the wilted flowers in the center of the table, the open storybook at the chair askew in front of her. “So it seems. It was not easy to find you.”

“You should have taken that as a sign to leave me be,” you said. You crossed the dining room and went into the kitchen. Jude’s chair scratched against the floor as she followed you. You ignored her as you began to unload the herbs from your basket. “I left Faerie for a reason.”

Though you were avoiding looking at her, you knew Jude’s eyes did not leave you. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought Jude was fae herself. The predatory glint in her eyes, the way her fingers itched to grab at her sword. She was not still like fae, nor was she unnaturally beautiful like fae, but she carried herself in such a way that you could be convinced otherwise. By human standards, she would have been the most beautiful of all. It was easy to understand why Cardan would choose her. Gorgeous but lethal—the exact sort of woman he would pursue. First Nicasia, now Jude. It was just as easy to see that you did not fit into the picture.

“You ran in the middle of the night,” Jude said. You looked over your shoulder. Her brows were pinched together as she scrutinized you.

“Have you come here to chastise me for leaving without a goodbye?”

She shook her head. “I have come because you were invited to breakfast.”

It was hard not to laugh. Was that why she came all the way to mountains to find you? Because you didn’t come to breakfast? It was so ridiculous. Of all the reasons to seek you out, it was the silliest of them all. Your heart ached all the same, though. No one came because you were a friend. No one came because you were missed. Would Cardan have even known you were gone if he hadn’t extended the invitation the very evening you fled?

“If I have offended the King, then I extend my apologies.”

Jude lifted her chin. “Tell him yourself.”

Your jaw clenched and unclenched. No. You would not go to him. You would not drag yourself back to that palace and let yourself be reminded why you had to go. You refused to break your heart all over again. “I have no desire to return to Faerie.”

“You don’t have to.”

Cardan stood in your bedroom. It was different than your one in Faerie. The one there had been full of extravagant things—the finest things he could gift you. It was full of gold and pearl and opal, glittering as if it all needed to be housed in a vault. But this bedroom, it had been stitched together out of nothing. Threadbare blankets, smooshed pillows, books that looked like they would fall apart with one wrong look. Cardan listened to your conversation as your voice floated down the hall. Would you really choose all of this over being with him? Was he truly so terrible?

The floor creaked under his feet as he stepped out and walked down the hall. Cardan could only see the back of your head, but you still looked just as beautiful as he remembered. His fingers twitched at his side as he fought the urge to run up behind you, take you in his arms, and whisk you away to Faerie. When had you taken so much control over him? When had he given it to you so willingly? When had you decided you didn’t want it anymore?

“I believe I am owed an apology?”

You turned slowly on your heel. Your eyes narrowed, but Cardan did not miss the flash of surprise. Your tongue swiped over your teeth. Would it be wrong to take that tongue in his mouth? Did it matter if it was? “I apologize.”

“My, that was heartfelt.”

Your eyes fell to the tail that swished around Cardan’s legs. It was still unfamiliar for him to have it out, still hard to control it from revealing his base emotions. He tried to will it to stop, but it continued to wave around as his excitement of seeing you bubbled in his chest. “Would you prefer I fall to my knees and weep for your forgiveness? Kiss your feet until you are pleased?”

“Oh, there are few things that would please me more than you on your knees for me, but I would prefer to not have an audience for that.”

Your gaze flitted from Cardan to Jude, who was inspecting your collection of kitchen knives. Were you debating sending her away? He would enjoy that. He would like to get on his own knees and remind you why he cared for you so. He misliked the distance you were putting between him. Maybe if he begged prettily enough, you would forgive him for whatever cruel thing he did that sent you running.

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t appreciate learning that you fled in the middle of the night after inviting you to breakfast. Is my company so awful that you would rather leave your home than spend a moment with me?”

A scoff escaped your lips. “I didn’t expect you to care.”

Cardan stared. Didn’t care…? He was so sure he had been clear with his intentions. He sent you gifts—he sent you a ring! The ring…Cardan reached over to his littlest finger and slipped it off. Ignoring your noise of protest, he closed the distance, grabbed your hand, and slipped the ring back on the finger it belonged. His heart slowed to a normal beat.

“Why would I give you this ring if I didn’t care?”

You stared at the ring. “You have gifted me many things.”

Jude stepped toward you. Your head snapped over to look at her, as if you had forgotten she was there. She tapped on the glittering gem on the ring’s center. “Allow me—Cardan is not good at professions of love, it seems. I told him of how humans would gift a ring as a promise of love. He wished to do that for you. Usually, there are confessions of how one wants to stay with their partner for all of their lives, but it seems he forgot that part.”

Cardan’s face burned as you looked back to him. “Is that true?” you asked.

“Do I need to get on my knees for you to believe it?” He ignored Jude’s remark that that, too, was part of the human tradition.

You straightened your spine. “I will not be a lover to the king.”

Of course you wouldn’t be. You deserved more than that. Cardan was willing to offer you more than that. All you had to do was give him the word. Without a thought, Cardan sank to his knees, captured your hands in his. “Then be my Queen.”

Your breath hitched.

“Come back to Faerie and rule by my side. Allow me to love you as I have tried for all these years. I missed you.” He lifted one of your hands to lips, then the other. “I begged Jude to help me find you and bring you home. I begged her to help me come here. Please, don’t let it all be for not.”

All you could manage was a single nod, and that was enough.

PART THREE

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louloulemons-posts · 4 months ago

Text

Dark Waters

Knight!Eddie X Princess!Elf!Reader

Word Count : 1.8k

(creds to owners)

Warnings : not proofread, cursing, sirens, drowning, knives, swords, death of minor characters, eddie is called Edward, use of Y/N

~ / / / * \ \ \

“You know we’re not supposed to be this far outside the castles walls!” Robin exclaimed, hurrying after you. “Robin come on! I just want to explore, I can’t stand all of the talk of my brother coronation, my mother just talks about marrying me off now!”

“Well would marriage be such a bad thing?”

You paused in your tracks to look at your friend, she nodded, “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

With a chuckle and a shake of your head, you continued through down the path. Removing the hood of your cloak from your head, sighed as the sun warmed your face.

Robin linked her arm with yours, walking side by side, no worries about would may see you, you were outside the city now.

The emerald leaves of the woods shone under the daylight, “Maybe we should head back?” Robin said.

“Me and my father always walked this path when I was small, come on Robin we’ll be quick.”

Beams of sun shone through the branches, illuminating the multi coloured flowers, small animals ran across the path, faeries flew past with their tingling bell sound.

The forest was alive with springtime. Your own gown seemed to be brighter in colour, the periwinkle of yours and royal blue of robins.

Your hair was also more alive, the small braids throughout, shining with pretty gems, similarly to your sharp pointed ears showing who you really were.

“Did you hear that?” Robin asked suddenly.

“Hear what?” She paused for a moment, turning her head to listen for the mysterious sound.

“That!” The shorter haired girl exclaimed.

“Robin, I really can’t hear anything,” you really did try to hear whatever it was, but soon enough Robin was dragging you down the winding path.

“Robs wait! she was moving at an ungodly pace, something you’d never seen from her, almost like magic. It wasn’t unusual sure, but this was a different kind of magic.

Pulling your arm from her grip, you grabbed Robins shoulders forcing her to meet your gaze. “What can you hear?”

“Singing!”

“Singing?”

“Yes it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.” Robin continued to push against your hold, walking towards whatever singing she heard.

Letting her go you followed behind, trying to figure out what was going on. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted someone else. No, many other people.

The were all walking in the same direction as your and Robin. “Robin, we have to go,” you tugged at her sleeve, trying to drag her back, she was now stepping off of the path.

“I need to find out whose voice that is, it’s beautiful.” Your head flooded with thoughts, what was it? Who was it?

Then you saw it, the waters edge. “Sirens,” you whispered. You could see their tails glistening as they swam closer, hands with webbed fingers, arriving at the waterside.

“Robin come away,” you pulled at her arm, but the girl yanked away from your grip, making you stumble.

A red haired woman emerged from the water, pushing herself up on the bank.

“Hello,” she purred.

“H-Hi,” Robin smiled.

“What’s your name?”

“Robin.”

“Come with me Robin.”

Her webbed fingers came out of the water, hand reaching towards Robins. Your friend took it softly, letting the woman pull her closer to the waters edge.

Pushing yourself up, you reached out for Robin, “No!” you screamed as Robin was pulled into the water. Jumping in after her you kicked at the beast, grabbing onto Robin.

The siren hissed at you, bearing her teeth. Pushing Robin up towards the surface, you began to swim up after her, but a hand gripped onto your ankle.

Hearing a calling sound, more and more sirens swam towards you, some holding onto men and women and those inbetween.

With panic you kicked at the siren with fire red hair, hoping to get free, but as more and more air left your lungs your kicks got weaker.

Slowly feeling yourself go limp, you felt more webbed hands grab hold of you, pulling you down into the depths.

Your eyes fell closed as the remaining breath left you.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Help! Someone please help me!” Robin called out to anyone who was near. Hooves came towards her, two faces she recognised from passing days.

“Thank goodness.”

“Miss Robin, what’s happened?” The man with shorter hair asked, taking in the woman’s panicked appearance. Dress and hair soaked from water.

“The princess … there were sirens … she saved me … but they … they …” the man with longer hair climbed from the horse.

“Breathe, what happened?” he asked.

“They pulled her down,” Robin sobbed, covering her face. “Steve wait here with Miss Robin.”

The man removed his heavy layer of armour with ease and speed, throwing himself into the water. The murky depths were hard to see through, but the commotion was unmissable.

Swimming towards the group of sirens, he spotted you, seeing them drag you towards their cave, he knew once you reached that point you were gone.

Pushing himself through the water, his curls came loose from how they’d been sat at the base of his neck. Swimming deeper and deeper, he heard a screech of warning from a siren.

“A knight!” One screamed. Drawing his sword, he slashed at a beast, drawing blood. Once that occurred, the sirens let you go, swarming the knight.

Your body fell down, close to the floor of the water. Swinging for the sirens, he cut many of them, ending the lives of others.

They grabbed him, but as he cut the neck of one final siren, one screamed,”Retreat!”

They grabbed the body of those who had passed and swam towards the cave. The knight felt his lungs burn, as he swam deeper for you.

Pulling your body, he went towards the light, the surface. On the bank, Steve’s arm was around Robin, rubbing her side to keep her warm. “Have you got her?!” The woman cried.

“Yes,” the knight coughed, water leaving his lungs, as he gasped a breath. Pulling you on the bank, he panicked as he noticed the lack of movement in your chest.

“No!” Robin sobbed, pulling towards you, but the knight shouted, “Keep her back!” Steve grabbed her waist holding her in place, trying to comfort her.

Pulling the outer layer of your dress off, he was met with a corset, “Shit!” he sighed, pulling a knife from the holster on his leg.

Slicing the ribbons from the corset, he yanked it off your chest, staring to press his hand in a rhythm against it.

He held your nose, blowing into your mouth, “Come on, wake up!” He spoke through gritted teeth. “One! Two! Three!” He kept pressing against your chest.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“One! Two! Three! Come on!” A voice spoke. Feeling air come back to you, you coughed loudly, water coming up. Gasping, you held your hand to your chest, hearing a laugh of joy.

“Oh thank god.” Robin. That was Robin.

“Robs?”

“I’m here,” the girl sat next to you, wrapping you in a hug. “Oh thank goodness.”

“Thank you so much,” Robin said to the knight. Looking up at the man, you couldn’t be more thankful. “You saved me.”

“I did what anyone would your Highness.”

Letting Robin help you to your feet, you couldn’t even be embarrassed at the lack of garments. The knight walked to his horse, pulling a cloak off and wrapping it around your shoulders.

“What’s your name sir.”

“Edward.”

“Thank you Edward, you saved my life. I must repay you.”

“I need nothing your Highness, just allow me and my colleague to help you and your friend home safely.”

“Thank you.” Letting the knight help you onto his horse, he climbed up behind, Robin and the other man doing the same thing. You may your way back into the town and up to the castle.

He made sure to keep his hands in a respectful position, keeping you steady on the horse.

“Open the gates for the Princess, the man behind your called. The gates opened, men and women ran towards you, including your mother.

“Darling!” she called.

“Mother,” you smiled. The man, Edward, jumped off the horse, holding out his hand to help you down. “What happened?” your mother asked.

“Sirens in the lake, one grabbed me, but this kind Knight, Edward,” you smiled at the curly haired man, “He saved me mother.”

“Is this true?” she asked Robin and Edward, “Yes your majesty,” they both said.

“Thank you, you saved my girl.” She squeezed your hand, “Come let’s get you all clean and dry.”

Your mother led you all into the castle, “Thank you your Majesty, but we must be heading to the Knights quarters to clean up,” The other man said.

“Yes of course, what is your name sir?” Your mother asked. “Steve,” he spoke softly.

“I owe you my thanks also, Steve. Me and my husband shall call for you both, do not be alarmed, it shall be as a reward.”

“There’s no need-“ Edward started, but your mother held her hand up. “Sir, you saved my daughter, I cannot thank you enough, she is .. she is the light of my life.”

“Of course your majesty, my heart is to you and this kingdom, including your daughter.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, his eyes met yours. “Mother, may I speak to Edward alone?”

“You may, I shall wait in your bedchambers, be quick my darling,” she squeezed your cheek and ushered Robin away. Steve bowed and may his way to his own space.

“Your highness?” Edward asked.

“I just wanted to thank you again Sir. You saved me.”

“It was nothing, it is my job.”

“I cannot thank you enough for it.”

“No thanks is needed.”

“It is, please meet with my mother and father.”

“I shall your highne-“ you cut him off.

“Y/N, my name is Y/N, no your highness needed.”

“That is not proper your highness i mustn’t.”

“You must, I order it,” you smiled at him, making the corner of his mouth rise. “Well Miss Y/N, please stay away from the lake without a proper escort.”

“Of course, may I call upon you on my next stroll then?”

“Yes your high- Y/N,” he bowed his head.

“Well I must go, and you must be freezing yourself Edward.”

“Eddie.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Edward makes me feel old, so Eddie.”

“Eddie,” you smiled, “Well I shall be seeing you soon I’m sure.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” he bowed. Walking towards him, you stood on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Good day Eddie.”

“Good day Y/N.” He smiled as he watched you go, disappearing down the hall, his cloak still wrapped around you.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

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loganwritesprobably · 5 months ago

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First Meeting With.. Part Two

Part one | Part three | Part four

Content/Warnings: Feat Zoro, Robin and Luffy, GN!Reader, no Y/N, fluff

He seemed a little different to the average guy that you saw around town. He was incredibly well built, and his strength showed not only in his physique but also how steady he was as he swung his swords. He was training, you assumed, though you couldn't guess what for. He turned as he swung another blade, and you caught sight of a previous injury that he'd sustained, taking away the use of his second eye. You wondered if he'd gotten it in a fight, and you found yourself hoping that he'd won.

You slipped away quickly, hoping that he'd still be there when you returned. You arrived home and grabbed a bottle, then filled it with cold water, before rushing back to where you'd previously seen the man. Thankfully, you'd managed to avoid your best friend who you lived with, who would've undoubtably asked questions about what you were doing and where you were going.

The man was there when you returned, now doing push ups. He was strong and steady, and for a moment you just stood there watching him. It didn't last for long though, as the man called out, apparently aware that you were there. "You're staring." It startled you slightly, as he hadn't once stopped doing his push ups nor turned to look at you. "Sorry. I uh- brought you some water. Thought you might need it." You replied, closing the distance between you with a slow approach, the cool bottle of water in hand. He stopped with his exercising after a few final pushes and stood, taking the bottle from you. He didn't speak for a long while, finishing the bottle at once then handing it back to you empty. "Thanks." He grunted, apparently not intending to say much more.

Unwilling to be stopped so easily, you introduced yourself. "I'm Zoro." He told you, and in that moment some awareness began to stir. "Like the strawhat?" "That's me." He confirmed, taking a few steps away from you to begin doing another exercise you weren't sure of the name of. What was he doing here alone? Or in your town at all? "That explains why you're so strong." You said instead of asking, because you figured it was probably none of your business and frankly you didn't want to know the answer. The strawhats seemed to do good, but they still caused chaos wherever they went. "Enjoying the view?" The swordsman asked with a smug grin after you began to stare again. You shook your head to distract yourself and softly laughed, a warm flush crossing your face. "Sorry." You apologised, because no matter how attractive he was, it was considered rude to stare. "No don't worry, you can stare as long as you want, pretty thing."

So you sat down, empty bottle still in hand, and you spent the afternoon mostly staring, but also occasionally exchanging some brief conversation. You weren't a complete animal after all.

You'd seen some beautiful women in your life, but this woman was another level. She was refined, elegant and gorgeous. You were both in the library, browsing the book collection, at least initially. After a few minutes of being in the same space, you abandoned your search for a book in favour of passively observing the gorgeous woman a few rows away from you.

A hand popped up from the floor beside you, initially unseen, and another from the shelf beside you. At the same time, they both reached out, taking your mouth and a leg in their hold to prevent you making a sound and stop you from running. The woman turned to face you with a raised brow and a dangerous glint in her eye. Perfect.

She approached you slowly, casually, still looking at books on the shelves as she passed. She picked one up with ease, every movement delicate, and then she was beside you. "You've been looking a little too long. What do you want?" She asked, her voice soft but a threatening tone underlying her words. "You're stunning." You replied once the hand covering your mouth was moved. The woman faltered, and you introduced yourself. She looked at you for a long moment, suspicious, then released your ankle too. "Robin." She said, and you took that was her name. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman." You said, though Robin didn't react. "Charming." She said however, as if she wasn't still glaring at you just a little. That was okay, you liked it when a woman you were interested in was a little bit mean.

She leaned in close to you, making you swallow harshly, only to take a book from behind you with a playful smirk and walk away. You had to see her again, and if you were lucky maybe she'd allow you to take her on a date.

The guy couldn't have been too different in age to you, and he'd rushed into the restaurant like a tornado, knocking over a few chairs and almost a table, before taking a seat nearest to the counter. He talked animatedly with his companion - who looked like some sort of animal - talking loudly of food, mainly meat. You approached with an exasperated expression, but you remained professional. You introduced yourself, then asked what they'd like to eat. "I'm Monkey D. Luffy and I'm going to be the Pirate King!" The guy introduced, and you nodded sagely, wisely keeping your mouth closed. Though, he seemed to radiate the purest kind of joy and you figured there were worse candidates for the next pirate king. He ordered effectively one of everything, and you went away to tell the chef.

You returned to the counter, perching on a stool behind it to get off your sore feet, and did some people watching. That was the best part of your job. The Luffy guy was the most lively adult you'd ever encountered, everything he did was done with more energy than strictly needed but his companion seemed entirely unphased by it, likely used to his friend's behaviour. He was so interesting to watch, and you couldn't help it. His little friend was cute too. You slipped away to collect his food once it started coming out, delivering it to his small table in rounds.

Luffy had no trouble eating everything that was delivered to him, his companion having stopped after the one plate of food that he'd ordered for himself. You watched, though didn't neglect any other customers who needed food or arrived. One man who arrived was just a little too personal with you. He came in sometimes, not quite regularly but enough that you knew his face and name, and he liked to get just slightly too close, to be just a little too familiar, to touch just a little more than needed. You ignored it as best as you could, trying to remain as professional as possible.

Luffy seemed to notice, and he did not like it. You passed him on your way to the kitchen to put in the man's order, and when you left you had another round of food for Luffy. "Who's that guy?" He asked, entirely tactless, even pointing at the guy who'd just come in. "Just another customer." You said, setting plates down on his table gently, while his companion, who you'd discovered was named Chopper, stacked dirty ones so you could easily take them away. "I don't like him, and I don't like that you don't like him either." Luffy declared, and for a moment you just stared. You shook your head to dismiss your confusion, and then scooped up the dirty plates Chopper had stacked for you. "It's fine, honestly. He always pays." Because that was the main concern of your boss - if he pays for his food, nothing else matters.

When you returned from the kitchen again, having apologised to the kitchen porter for all the plates, the guy was at the counter rather than his table. "Hey gorgeous, still nobody at home keeping your bed home?" He asked, leaning just a little further over the counter than he needed to, just to get into your space. "Hey!" Luffy yelled, his arm stretching unnaturally to wrap around the guy's body and pull him away. The guy stumbled and almost fell, but just managed to stay steady. The two dissolved into an argument, and you could do nothing but watch. "He didn't like how the guy was treating you." Chopper explained after seeing your bewildered, and slightly alarmed, expression. You nodded mutely, turning to grab more plates of food when you needed to.

Luffy was done when you returned, and the man had gone back to his own table, bruised and face thunderous. You set down the fresh plates of food for Luffy, and he beamed at you. "He won't bother you anymore."

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