#cause of the dragon ward

[tiny-huts]

My friend and I went on a rant about wolfdogs and then came up with a DND character that runs a rescue/orphanage for baby dragons that rich assholes adopt and then cannot handle. Half of running it is accounting for the dragons insane dietary and environmental needs. And the other half is trying to prevent the chromatics and the metallics from murdering each other

[warlordfelwinter]

Tales from the Dancing Sea Dragon

Part One: Dragon Heist

Chapter Six: Fish Out of Water

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celeste remembers why he doesn't really enjoy the dock ward

~3k words

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“Get out,” the coach driver snapped. “This is as far as I take you.” 

The three of them hopped down from the coach and the driver immediately sped off, muttering to himself about not being paid enough. Celeste shook his head slightly and then turned his attention to the street they were on. There were people around, going about their daily business, all either ignoring their group or giving them dirty looks. 

“Excuse me,” Celeste said, walking over to a nearby woman. “I was wondering if you—” 

She walked away, completely ignoring him. Not a reaction he was used to. He walked further, Corivier and Nyalori following him, and tried again. 

“Khaire, could you tell me where—” 

“Fuck off.” 

Celeste blinked in surprise. Definitely not a reaction he was used to. He tried a few more times and, without fail, every person he tried to speak to either ignored him or told him to fuck off or, in one particularly rude instance, spit at him. 

He exhaled, taking a moment to gather himself, and looked around at the dirty, run-down street and equally dirty and run-down Waterdhavians. He looked down at his own clean, expensive, perfectly tailored clothes, shining metal bangles jingling together as he brushed a bit of dirt off his shirt. He wasn’t so unaware of himself that he didn’t realize he was out of place here, but even so he was used to people wanting to talk to him. Or at least giving the bare minimum of politeness. The celestial in him usually put people at ease, even strangers, even those of a different class than him. He wasn’t used to being disliked, but he brushed it off easily. It was their problem, not his.

“Well, there goes my idea,” he said, shrugging to the others. “Should we try to find the ship? Nyalori, do you remember the way you came from the docks?” 

“Umm…” she looked around, uncertain. “This way…? Maybe…” 

Together with Celeste’s vague idea that they should be heading downhill, the two of them managed to get the group hopelessly lost. Among the twisting, senseless alleyways and signless buildings, it soon became impossible to tell which direction they were heading or which way the harbor was. Their only saving grace was Corivier, who had a good enough memory to at least keep them from walking the same paths over and over again. 

After what must have been at least an hour of wandering around, getting dirty looks from ward residents assuming they were nobility, they managed to find the market. A collection of shops and stalls set up along a street that looked down toward the docks. They walked through, Nyalori getting distracted by nearly everything but particularly by two fishmongers that were tossing a fish back and forth to each other. Corivier gently guided her away before she could go join in the game, refocusing all of them on their goal. 

The Windsong was easy enough to spot among the moored ships and Nyalori led them over, trotting up the gangplank onto the deck. Celeste and Corivier stayed on the dock, watching as she was met by a man wearing an apron who seemed to be the only person on the ship at the moment. Celeste thought, if he focused, he could probably hear their conversation, but he didn’t bother, assuming Nyalori would share any important revelations with them when she came back down. Corivier, next to him, was watching the conversation more closely. At some point, the man left, coming back and giving something to Nyalori. 

“Do you know where we might find a dockmaster, or something?” Corivier called up.

The man Nyalori was speaking to looked over the railing, seeing the other two for the first time. Celeste distinctly saw him tense, cheeks flushing. Celeste smiled, giving him a little wave, which only made his face redder. 

“U-um, yes, the dockmaster’s over there…” he stammered, pointing down the pier to a little ramshackle hut. 

Nyalori thanked him and hurried back down off the ship to rejoin them. She had some sort of chocolate tart in her hands, which she portioned out and shared with them while they walked down to the dockmaster’s hut. 

Celeste popped his portion into his mouth and had to restrain a noise of delight. It was absolutely incredible, better even than anything he’d had at Tokens, perfectly soft and sweet and rich. He wondered where in the world Zelyana had found her cook and if it would be possible for him to steal him for Rehma. 

The dockmaster, when they entered, was leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the desk and dozing. Celeste took the lead again, clearing his throat. The halfling cracked an eye open. 

“Khaire,” he said, with his most charming smile, the one that made most people melt, “we were wondering if you could give us directions to The Skewered Dragon?” 

The dockmaster opened both eyes and stared at him, thoroughly unimpressed. He gestured vaguely in a direction. “That way,” he said gruffly. “Now bugger off, I’m busy.” 

Celeste blinked. He shifted, going for his hip bag to get some money. Where beauty and charm failed, he knew gold would work. 

Before he could get any money out, Corivier stepped forward. He pulled out and unwrapped one of the orange rolls from this morning. 

“If you give us better directions, you can have this,” he said temptingly. 

The halfling looked at him, then looked at the pastry, then looked at Corivier again. “Right, you’re gonna head up that street over there up five blocks, take a right, second left, first right, keep heading through and you’ll hit the street you want just look around and you’ll see the tavern. If you hit the Sea Ward you’ve gone too far.” With that, he snatched the roll out of Corivier’s hand and sat back again. 

“Thank you very much,” Celeste said, as they left, and was ignored. He was beginning to remember why he didn’t come to this part of the city. 

With the instructions, and Corivier’s good memory and sense of direction, they were able to make their way much more quickly. At this point the sun had passed the midpoint in the sky and Celeste hoped they would be able to track down Floon swiftly. He really didn’t want to be here after dark. 

“First right…” Corivier murmured, turning down an alley. Celeste glanced up at some paint on the wall marking it as Three Daggers Alley. It sounded familiar to him for some reason, but it wasn’t until a knife flew out of the shadows, nicking him in the shoulder as he tried to dodge out of the way, that he remembered why it sounded familiar. They ran, chased by the magical cursed daggers that haunted the alley, and burst out the other end into a street across from a tavern, nearly crashing into a tiefling woman who drew a weapon at their hasty approach. 

When she saw they weren’t being pursued, and realized where they’d come from, she relaxed and sheathed her weapon again. She was wearing the gear of the City Watch and wasn’t the only officer outside this tavern. It seemed they had cordoned the entire area off. Some were questioning patrons and others were shooing away passers-by.  

“Move along,” she said. “If you’re looking to get through, you’ll have to head up that way and go around.” 

Celeste hardly heard her. He was frozen in place, staring at the carnage behind her. At least half a dozen corpses lay on the ground and the Watch was holding three very bloody, but alive, men. Even just at a glance, it seemed likely that this was yet another case of violence between the Zhentarim and the Xanathar guilds, but Celeste was having trouble thinking about that. Or hearing the questions Corivier was asking of the officer in front of them. 

He was staring at the bodies, unable to pull his gaze away from the gore, that sickly sweet metallic smell clogging his nose. In his mind he was miles and years away, standing at the edge of a clearing in the forest outside Elturel, panic just beginning to crawl up his throat as he realized what he was looking at. The light from his halo dimmed as he went cold, hands gripping tightly into his own arms crossed over his stomach.

He was startled out of his memories by Corivier’s arm around him, gently guiding him away from the scene. Corivier didn’t say anything immediately, just kept his arm around him as they left the scene. Nyalori followed, slower, trying to get a look at what had happened as she passed. 

They walked past rows of run down buildings and houses, tall and crooked that blocked out the afternoon sun, throwing the street into dark shadow, until they emerged back into the light of another road. Celeste looked up, blinking, and saw that most of the buildings here had signs. 

“Are you okay?” Corivier asked quietly. 

Celeste looked at him. There was something in the elf’s pale blue gaze that was more than just empathetic. As if he knew exactly how Celeste had felt. Celeste swallowed. 

“I’m… I’m fine,” he said, and he knew it wasn’t convincing. Corivier reached into his bag and pulled out the last of the orange rolls from that morning, handing it over. 

“You seem like you need this more than I do,” he said. 

Celeste stared at him for a moment before slowly taking the offered pastry, feeling his throat tighten. “Thank you,” he said quietly, grateful when neither of them pressed, instead turning to survey their surroundings. 

The road was mostly businesses, all sporting signs denoting their names—Forging Ahead, The Hasty Pear, Buoyant Bliss Bathhouse. There were several ship repair shops and outfitters. Down the road, they spotted a very battered old sign with a dragon on it being pierced through by a javelin. 

Celeste nibbled on his pastry as they headed for the tavern, eyes passing over the windows of every shop they passed. He stopped, as the others did, as they all saw the same thing—a stuffed toy beholder. 

It was hanging in the window of a shop with a deep purple facade. Through the window, beyond the beholder, they could see cluttered shelves overrunning with disorganized trinkets. 

“We have to come back here after we’re done finding Floon,” Nyalori said, delighted, and Celeste and Corivier both nodded. The three of them reluctantly moved on, walking the rest of the way down the block to The Skewered Dragon. 

It was, as the rest of the buildings in this ward were, a little ramshackle. The front windows were broken and there was a large anchor collapsing part of the roof. Through the broken windows, Celeste could see several rough looking customers. He didn’t want to judge by appearances, but if he had to guess they would be more people that wouldn’t want to talk to him. 

Before any of them could reach for the door, Corivier stopped them, pulling the other two close. 

“Hey, should we… have a plan before we go in? I mean, this doesn’t look like the sort of establishment I’m used to, I’m not sure how we should act in there.” 

“Well, I’ve definitely never been to a place like this,” Nyalori said. 

“It’s also quite different from anywhere I frequent,” Celeste said. He shrugged. “I try not to make plans, I think we should just go talk to the bartender. Maybe you should do most of the talking, though, since people here don’t seem to like me.” 

Corivier smiled, faintly, and nodded. Celeste skipped back and opened the door, gesturing inside. The other two went in ahead and he followed. The patrons inside all looked up at their party as they entered, but didn’t spare them much more than a glance before returning to their drinks or conversation. 

The bartender, busy polishing a dirty glass with a dirtier rag, watched them curiously as they approached. 

“What can I get for you?” he asked. 

“Information,” Corivier said, evidently deciding to just be straightforward. “We’re looking for a man named Floon Bragmar, who was last seen here at your tavern. Human man, average height, reddish blonde hair? Maybe in the company of Volothamp Geddarm?” 

The man held his gaze, silently polishing the glass for a while, before shrugging. “Hard to say, a lot of people come through here. You ordering something or not?” 

“What do you have?” Corivier asked. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Celeste guessed, sliding a gold across the counter to the bartender. “Do you remember?” 

The bartender smiled. “Yeah, I remember him,” he said, taking the coin and pocketing it. “He was with Volo for a bit, but the main reason I recall him being here is cause he was with Renaer Neverember.” 

Celeste blinked, surprised. He recognized the name, of course. The last Open Lord of Waterdeep had been a Neverember and he had been roundly disliked. Renaer was his son, though Celeste knew next to nothing about him. He had never paid much attention to current events or politics. 

“Renaer Neverember was here?” Celeste asked. 

The bartender nodded. “You see why I was paying attention,” he said. “So, as I recall, your man was drinking with Volo for a while, Volo left, Renaer showed up. They played a few rounds of three dragon ante, had some more drinks, then left. A few folks left after them, all wearing the same sort of cloaks. Haven’t seen him since.” 

“Can you tell us anything else about the men that followed them?” Corivier asked. “The ones in cloaks?” 

“About five of them, I think,” he said. “Hadn’t seen them around the tavern before, but I have seen them hanging around a warehouse down on Candle Lane. One with a snake on the door.” 

“Thank you,” Corivier said. “Where’s Candle Lane?” 

“It’s the only place left here with a streetlamp, mate,” a patron behind them said, as he came up to pay his tab. “Few blocks down, can’t miss it,” he said, gesturing. 

“Oh, thank you,” Corivier said, surprised. He exchanged a glance with Celeste and Nyalori and they left the tavern, heading off in the direction the patron had indicated. 

“You seemed to recognize the name of that Neverember guy,” Corivier said, looking at Celeste. 

“Oh, yes. His father was the last Open Lord of the city. One of the leaders,” Celeste clarified, realizing neither of them would know what the title meant. “No one really liked him. I don’t know much of anything about Renaer though. It’s odd that he’d be in the Dock Ward, considering he’s a lord, but as I said I don’t know much about him, maybe he’s here a lot,” Celeste said, shrugging. 

It didn’t take them long to find Candle Lane. As the man at the tavern had suggested, it still had a functioning streetlamp at the other end of the block from where they were, down a narrow street. Though it was still daylight, the tall buildings were packed so tightly they blocked out the late afternoon sun, casting the road in shadow. It was fairly empty of other people and as they walked in, eyes open for any sign of the symbol the barkeep had described, the air almost seemed colder. It was quiet here, nearly deserted apart from them, and everything together gave the street a grim, gloomy feeling. As if they shouldn’t be here.

They walked down the lane, looking at each door, and eventually found a two storey dilapidated warehouse. It was set back a little bit from the road, with a fenced yard out front, a larger garage door, and a door to the side with the figure of a winged serpent emblazoned on it. 

[clickityweasel]

you've seen my neatly written up notes, now behold: the actual notes i take during sessions, calleach's ward edition!

[softspiderling]

and there you are on your knees | j.v

summary:

For a split second, your eyes met and it felt like he could see right through you. You tried not to flinch, keeping your head straight on and your gaze locked on him, hoping he would would avert his gaze. But he didn’t.

“Bent. Knees.”

Oh.

OR; Prince Jacaerys Velaryon arrives at the Twins to secure passing for the troops marching for his cause. He is successful in more ways than one.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+, MDNI, oral sex (male receiving), p in v, as usual, Jace has been aged up to 20!

word count: 1,8k

author’s note: remember when i posted that pic of jace like three weeks ago? i looked at it last week and went "what if...?👀" and this was born. idk😭😭 also am i crazy or hasnt anyone written anything about this scene before?? that’s illegal🙅🏻‍♀️ anyways tagging my hotd bestie @eldrith ily thanks for letting me yap your ear off, happy reading y’all🫶🏼

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You had heard rumours about the first son of Queen Rhaenyra; every lady that had met him sighed over his luscious dark brown locks or the handsomeness of his face that seemed to be carved out of the most expensive stone in the whole realm. Still, you were quite taken aback by how beautiful he really was when he crossed the bridge of the Twins, his dragon waiting for him in the greens just by the tower.

He truly knew how to make a first impression last.

“Lady Frey, Lord Frey,” Prince Jacaerys said, nodding to the sitting pair, hand on the hilt of his sword. His eyes flickered to you for a second.

“Lady…?”

“Frey, my Prince.”

Prince Jacaerys raised a surprise eyebrow but let it go uncommented, only eyeing you up and down very briefly before taking his sword off as he sat down.

Lady Frey poured him wine and without much preamble, they begun their talks of trades. You kept yourself mostly to the back, fulfilling your role as a ward, ever present but never putting your nose in affairs you had no business in. You tried to listen, the Prince seemingly asking for passing for troops coming in from the North, which Lady and Lord Frey agreed to after some negotiations; but you tried to use the advantage of being ignored to take in the Prince. He was young still, but he carried himself with a certain aura of power and confidence, which was a given; he was the Crown Prince of the Seven Realms after all.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted and you quickly put your very inappropriate thoughts about the Crown Prince away, trying to pay atention once more.

“You want Harrenhal.”

Lord and Lady Frey glanced at each other in silent conversation, while the Prince finished his drink, standing to hold his cup out for Lady Frey to refill.

“For that, my mother will want more than your crossing,” Prince Jacaerys said easily, his chin held high.

“What does her Grace desire?”

Prince Jacaerys discarded his cup on the table, leaning both his hands on it, towering over Lord and Lady Frey. For a split second, your eyes met and it felt like he could see right through you. You tried not to flinch, keeping your head straight on and your gaze locked on him, hoping he would avert his gaze. But he didn’t.

“Bent. Knees.”

Oh.

The sounds coming out of your mouth were scandalous and really downright filthy as the prince kept thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth, one hand fisted around your hair, the other holding onto his tunic, so he had an unobstructed view of you.

When Prince Jacaerys had asked you to show him the privy before he left, you had not expected him to back you into a secluded corner of the hallway, his lips upon yours and you felt like you were in a dream.

You were on your knees, your pretty dress flared out on the dirty floor, the hard stones digging into your shins, likely leaving bruises, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“If I had known the Freys had such a pretty little thing for a ward, I would have come sooner,” Prince Jacaerys grunted, making you whine softly. He tightened his hold on your hair a little, snapping his hips up and tears sprang into your eyes as you nearly choked at the sheer size of him. Your hands grabbed at his waist to steady yourself, as he fucked his cock into your mouth, before he pulled out with a groan.

“Fuck, you nearly made me release,” Prince Jacaerys muttered, swiping his thumb over your lower lip. “But I am not quite done with you yet.”

He grabbed you by the arm, helping you stand, pressing his lips against yours, inarguably tasting himself on you, but Prince Jacaerys didn’t seem to mind. You pulled away from the kiss, your chest still heaving and your cheeks red. All of this was new to you, and you were embarrassed that you had to catch your breath.

Prince Jacaerys looked down on you with a smirk, brushing the sweaty hair off of your forehead.

“Turn around,” he said, turning you by the shoulder to press you up against the cold stone of the wall. “Have you ever laid with another man?”

“No,” you answered with a shake of your head, your cheeks turning a deeper red, nervous and excited at the same time, at the prospect of a man taking your maidenhood, the crown prince of the Iron Throne nonetheless.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," you repeated, voice breathless. "Please, I want this."

“I’ll try to be gentle,” he whispered into your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, making you shiver.

Slotting himself against your back, Prince Jacaerys lifted the skirt of your dress to reach between your legs, his fingers rubbing over your pearl, your hips bucking in surprise as you moaned out.

“Patience, my sweets,” Prince Jacaerys rumbled, trapping your skirt under his arm, which he snuck around your waist. His fingers circled into your folds, gathering your wetness before he dipped one finger into your cunt.

“Oh Gods help me,” you moaned, writhing in his arm and Prince Jacaerys only chuckled.

“No Gods here, only me.”

He pumped his finger in and out of your cunt, until your walls acclimated to the intrusion and he added another finger, making you roll your eyes to the back. Never before have you felt such pleasure down there, you weren’t sure if you could go back to not knowing how it felt.

“Just… One more,” Prince Jacaerys mumbled, adding a third finger and you felt incredibly full, like you were split open, but in a good way? The pads of his fingers kept brushing against the spongy part inside of you, which made you curl your toes in your shoes. You leaned your forehead against the cold stone, feeling a growing sensation in your lower stomach.

“I think… I think I might..” you groaned, your lips parted.

“What?” Prince Jacaerys said, his breath hot on your ear as he kept fucking you with his fingers. “Are you going to come, Lady Frey?”

“Y-yes, my Prince.”

“Call me by my given name and I’ll let you.”

He pressed onto your pearl with his thumb and you swore you saw black for second before you came, a moan of his name on your tongue.

“Incredible,” he whispered, pulling his hand away to tug on his cock that had been rutting against your backside, leaving a smear of his precum on your skin.

“This might be uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

You weren’t quite sure what Prince Jacaerys was talking about when you felt the head of his cock breaching your cunt and you let out a small gasp.

It hurt at first, and you let out a small breath as he kept pushing his cock in - Gods, did it ever end?

“Gods you’re tight,” Prince Jacaerys groaned, his hands gripping your waist when he was fully sheathed inside of you. You only whimpered in reply - how would you previously think you were full when he had three fingers inside of you? This was no comparison.

You let out a laboured breath, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down your temple and you shifted on your feet, letting out a surprised moan when it caused delicious friction of the Prince’s cock inside your cunt.

“Ah, you’re feeling it, don’t you,” Prince Jacaerys whispered lowly in your ear, bringing your hair to the side, so he could place wet kisses upon your back. “The pleasure coursing through you, like you have never felt before?”

Just as the words left his mouth, he started to thrust his cock into you with no abandon. The sounds of skin slapping skin filled the hallway, coupled with his grunts and your moans, it was a miracle no one stumbled upon you, but even if they did, you didn’t know if you’d care enough to stop.

Your blunt nails scraped against the walls, as the Prince’s cock kept going in and out, you were starting to see walls. It wasn’t long before you could feel the warm sensation in your lower stomach forming again, this time so much more intense.

“P-please,” you whimpered, your whole body feeling like it was burning.

“Lo ao’re beri nyke jāhor mazverdagon ao ñuhon,” Prince Jacaerys whispered into your hair as his cock drove into you.

You were too fucked out to realize you didn’t understand him, and definitely too fucked out to ask what he had just said to you, clinging to the wall for any semblance of support as your body shook with every thrust.

“I’m almost there,” Prince Jacaerys grunted, his hand finding your pearl again as he slowed his thrusts, instead thrusting harder, finger pressing down on your pearl. “Will you finish for me, my sweets?”

“Yes,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

The Prince only chuckled, not once pausing his movement but accelerating the circles he was drawing on your pearl, until you finally broke, a wave of pleasure washing over you so powerful it knocked you over.

“Gods, Jacaerys!” you moaned, your cunt pulsating in its wake, your eyes fluttering shut, leaning against the wall.

You were only standing because the Prince kept a steady grip on you, his cock still fucking into your wet, soppy cunt. His thrust stuttered before he gave one last, thrust, shooting his warm seed right into your hole, your cunt milking him for everything he was worth, the seed escaping from the sides, dripping down your legs as he pulled out.

With one hand, Prince Jacaerys tucked his cock back into his pants and letting your dress fall back down, his other hand holding you upright, your knees still weak.

“Can you stand?”

“I think?”

His hand was firm but gentle as he turned you around, a smirk on his lips as you looked up at him through your lashes, completely ruined. Again, he pushed the hair out of your face, almost lovingly, as if he didn’t just shoot his seed into your cunt, his seed that you could still feel trickling down your leg, beneath your dress.

“Maybe I will be back,” Prince Jacaerys said, wiping his thumb over you mouth. “Make sure you really are staying loyal to the rightful heir of the Iron Throne.”

You chuckled breathlessly, looking up at him. “House Frey would welcome you with open arms.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up, slowly released your waist, before he leaned down to kiss you deeply. You sighed softly against his lips, but the kiss was over sooner than you had wished, your mouth chasing his.

“Be good, make sure your guardians keep their words or I will come for their heads.”

With those words, Prince Jacaerys left you in the dark hallway, still catching your breath. This was not how you had envisioned the Crown Prince’s visit to go.

But who were you to complain if he was so generous?

────────────

Lo ao’re beri nyke jāhor mazverdagon ao ñuhon = if you’re lucky i might make you mine

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: thoughts?👀

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 05 - Dragon Cock]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Dragon!Yoongi, Fantasy!AU, Secret Love!AU

Kinks: dragon cock, cunnilingus, magical spit, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetrative sex, he tries so hard to be gentle with her, breeding, creampie, multiple orgasms, praise, strength kink, size kink (he is a lot bigger ‘cause dragon yk), giddy aftercare

Wordcount: 5.5k

a/n: i love him i love him i love him!! he is my beloved pookie and i’ve only known him for one day! also, click this link if you wanna see his delicacies :) i’m serious, do it :)

You lived in Bailemon, which liked to consider itself a town, but it was very far from that. It was small, perhaps even small enough to be considered a village instead of a town. Not many outsiders visited Bailemon because it was far from big cities, nestled between two high mountain ranges and hidden in a dense forest. The roads were passable, but not good. People here lived from the forest and from the little mountainous farming they were able to do during the warmer months.

Your town – or village – had a village square where each second day, the farmers and merchants gathered to sell their goods. In autumn, there was a festival of fire held on the square to ward off the evil spirits of winter. Bailemon also had a place of worship, which was considered holy beyond comparison. It was said that on its grounds, evil cannot tread and in times of danger, one should run to it for shelter.

The people in your village were superstitious, they believed in ghosts, dark magic and demons. You knew their superstition to be justified. This world was dark. The nights during the cold months were too long not to bring forth evil. But you also knew that stuff like holy grounds were nothing but lies to make life in the village easier. Evil walks where it pleases, it takes what it wants and leaves no room for escape.

You lived in the village with your aging parents, taking care of them as their only surviving child. You had a brother once, but he walked into the forest one day and never returned. People say that evil spirits got him, but you know that this was a lie because you looked for him. At least you tried to because you never found him nor traces of evil spirits. You are convinced that it was simply a pack of hungry wolves which took him from your family. Or perhaps he ran away to somewhere warmer and happier. You wouldn’t blame him.

As the only living child of your parents, it became your duty to tend to them in their growing age. You earned money forging swords for the Queen’s army and went hunting whenever food ran out. You also helped the farmers shoe their horses and ox and sometimes scared villagers came to you asking for yet another lock for their front door. Your family lived well thanks to you, even if work by the forge was hard and difficult.

If you weren’t sweating by the scorching fire or hunting in the forest, you walked it in search of berries and mushrooms or to train with your sword. The reason however why you walked the woods most, was the dragon living high up in the northern mountains.

Dragons. Yes, they were as real as evil spirits and wicked demons were and your village was under the protection of one.

Dragons didn’t look as one might imagine a dragon to look like, at least not always. They could morph their enormous dragonic bodies into human-like bodies and walk among people. Their eyes, however, always remained a fiery yellow and their canine teeth were always sharp and pointy. They were also taller than normal humans and had scales down their necks and torsos. Some even had scales on their hands and sharp claws which sliced deeper than any blade ever could. In the lands of humans, dragons were considered gods.

The festival of fire was held because of the dragon living in the mountains. A brave soul is sent to his lair to ask him for his presence each year. Then once the dragon comes down from his high home, he lights the fire with his hot breath and with it, wards off the evil winter spirits. Once the fire burns bright, the villagers begin dancing around the fire in pairs, thanking the dragon for the fire and his protection while he sits on a wooden throne, overlooking the dance. He is always alone during these festivities, drinking wine and eating meat, except for when one of the many willing women – and men – try catching his attention. He never reciprocates. 

Marrying a dragon was considered a gift from the gods and not many were successful. Dragons were a distant people – perhaps that is why they became so rare these days – and scarcely engaged with humans except for when they were needed. They lived longer than any human ever would and because of their bigger bodies, many who tried to be intimate with a human, ended up hurting their beloved counterpart. So for the safety of humans, of whom the dragons were very fond, they stayed away from them.

That doesn’t stop you however from regularly walking the path to the dragon’s lair. Sword strapped to your back and with a thick dress warming your body, you walk the steep and stony path. You put your parents to sleep already and locked the cottage. The priest spoke of evil spirits dancing on the wind tonight and you didn’t want to risk anything. You knew that they were safe in your house because you placed dragon ash by each window and door. It was the only thing which truly kept evil away and it is a regular present the dragon gives you.

You take a deep breather once you reach the mountain plateau in front of his cave. Marks of his dragon body landing dig deep into the grey gravel. Small autumn flowers grow in its deep crevices. The dragon placed a pot of flowers next to the cave entrance. You have to chuckle each time you pass it because of its peculiarity. It looks so out of place and yet fits his character so well.

“Yoongi!” you call out the dragon’s name, voice echoing in the big cave. You venture deeper into the cave, leaving the cold autumn air behind. “Yoongi, are you home?”

His lair consisted of two caves. One big and deep and one smaller. The big cave was in the front, welcoming you with endless darkness as it dug deep into the mountain. It smelled ancient and wet in here and there was always a faint sound of water trickling somewhere. Yoongi can fly in it when he is in his true form and hide on the ceiling when he doesn’t want to be found. The smaller cave was where he lived however. You have to take a sharp turn to the right for it and walk through a corridor-like walkway. The ceiling shrinks in height until it was but six meters.

“Yoongi, are you in here?” you try again, entering his true lair. Your voice doesn’t echo anymore. Lantern and torches light up the walls, a fireplace warms the space, expensive rugs cover the stone ground and golden furniture fills the room. Gold, jewels and crystals are scattered all around the cave in heaps or stuffed into big treasure chests. It feels homely here and tonight it is empty.

“Where the heavens are you?” you murmur, looking around the lair. An especially golden cup calls your attention. You bend down to inspect it better, fluttering your lashes at your own distorted reflection. It brings a chuckle to your lips and you straighten up, “how silly I looked.”

You ghost your fingers over a set of earrings next. They sparkle like stars in the sky. They are so beautiful.

“Careful, they’re worth more than your entire village.”

“Oh heavens”, you startle, pulling your sword in instinct and whipping around quickly. The blade graces against your stalker’s throat without cutting them.

“Don’t strike me down just yet”, Yoongi says, lifting his hands.

“You scared me”, you say, touching his chin with the tip of your sharp sword.

The right corner of his lips curls into an amused smirk, revealing glimpses of his long fangs.

“I could tell”, he says blithely despite the sword against his throat.

You put pressure on his chin, forcing his head to tilt up and for his amused smirk to grow. His fiery eyes flicker, a deep growl rumbles in his chest. 

“I could have cut your head off”, you say. 

“And yet you didn’t.”

You flip the blade to its side, forcing him to gulp because of the sharpness against his skin.

“Careful now”, he rasps.

“Mhm”, you decide with a cock of your brow, pulling your sword back. You twirl it once then put it back into its sheath, features warming as you laugh.

His golden eyes soften and a smile curls his lips. He closes the distance, placing his big hands on your waist and bending down to kiss your lips. You rest your hands on his strong chest, getting on your tiptoes to reach him better. He breaks the kiss, rubbing his nose against yours gently. His breath smells fresh and feels warm.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“The cottage was too cold.”

He laughs, “this is the only reason?”

You snicker, dancing your hands to the nape of his strong neck to trace the scales. You shake your head, “no, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“You did?”

“Mh-hm very much so.”

He draws a giggle to your lips. He smiles, tasting it with a tender kiss. “Come here you”, he mumbles and deepens the kiss. He lifts you off the ground for it just enough that you didn’t have to stand on your tiptoes any longer. 

You break the kiss to talk, even if he disagrees with a low growl. His golden eyes gaze longingly at your lips.

“Where were you before I called for you?”

“Deep in the caves, digging for gold.”

“I see and were-”

He interrupts you in laughed words, “will you kiss me or do I have to steal it from you?”

“No. No, I will kiss you. I got the message”, you laugh, pulling him into a deep kiss.

Yoongi purrs deeply, holding you tighter against him as his lips fall into a passionate dance with yours.  

You met Yoongi in the year your brother died. You knew him long before that, but up until then, never talked to him. You simply watched from a distance as he lit the fire and then sat on his throne overlooking the dance. You also watched him refuse countless suitors and return to his cave alone once the festival ended. Other than that, you never engaged with him. You had always found him interesting, because dragons are gods after all and he looked so very beautiful in his human form. His hair was as black as soot, his eyes as golden as flames and his scales were an iridescent of black and gold. He didn’t possess sharp claws, which made his touch so very gentle and tender and his lips were soft and pouty which made his kiss so very addicting.

You talked to Yoongi in the year your brother died. You spent too many days to count in the dense forest in search for him and it happened that one day, you got lost. You tried and tried to find your way back, but couldn’t. Night replaced the day and you already saw yourself freezing to death when he came. At first you thought him to be a bear, but then he asked you if you were lost and you knew that you were saved. You told him about why you were in the forest and he offered you comfort in your painful times of grief. He allowed you to talk about your brother as he walked you back to the village, he even allowed you to cry and assured you that your tears were not “entirely silly”. Once he led you back to your cottage, he gave you a bag of dragon ash and told you to spread it on each window and door to keep the rest of your family safe and you thanked him with promises of praying to him in the worship hall tomorrow. Back then, you thought that you were blessed and lucky to have an interaction with him, but you never could have imagined that this one time interaction became a regular thing.

Ever since that day, he began waiting for you by the forest road, offering you companionship in your search for your brother and like this, your walks in the forest became a regular thing until one day, you took his hand and he took yours, never wanting to let go again.

The people in the village didn’t know about your relationship with Yoongi. It was your wish to keep it secret because you knew that they would ruin it. They would force you to marry him, to bear his children, to become their goddess. You didn’t want this life, you wanted to take care of your parents and help the people with your smithies, not be someone to worship.

Yoongi didn’t mind that you wanted to keep him a secret. He liked it. He had many treasures taken from him because they were precious to him and if it was revealed that you were the most precious treasure of all, it would kill you and him in the process. He cannot lose you, not ever. Not when he walked the earth alone for so long, not when his fiery heart finally had someone to burn for.

Yoongi was lonely before he met you. He had other dragons to talk to, but he enjoyed the company of only a very, very few. He also had lots of suitors, which could have made the nights easier, but Yoongi wasn’t one for meaningless fucking. Yoongi craved connection above all. He craved intimacy and trust and conversation. He craved someone to care for and someone to see him as another living being not as a god. You give him all of this and more, but Yoongi knows that even if you didn’t give him any of that, he would love you. He loves you without reason after all. He loves you simply because it was right.

You break the kiss for air, vision just a little blurry as you look at him. You are eye to eye when you are in his arms, hands running along his scaly neck and strong shoulders. A black tunic sits on his torso, allowing his higher body heat to reach your palms. Even in the iciest nights he will warm you. Sometimes in winter, when your parents were already sleeping and the village was quiet, Yoongi sneaks into your cottage through the window (which is always hilarious because he is very big in comparison to the small frame) so he could warm you as you fell asleep. He is always gone the next morning, only having left behind a fresh bag of dragon ash and a few gold coins you could spent in the big city on food.

“You are so warm”, you say, making his eyes smile.

“You are such a delight.”

Your eyes race between the other’s, you and he feel breathless. Your fingers run up to his slightly pointy ears, scratching him behind them.

Yoongi purrs, tilting his head back as his lids flutter. 

“If you touch me like this…”

“I know.”

It is a silent understanding between you and him. Yoongi sighs your name and pulls you into a kiss. His fangs clash with yours before he naturally fixes his roughness, kissing you oh so tenderly. Tenderly, but also incredibly hungry. You moan, fingers twisting his black locks and legs closing around his waist. He answers you in a guttural growl, fingers grasping you harder.

This is also why you walked the difficult path. Not only did you want to see him, you wanted his body and touch. You craved it like fire craves wood to burn.

Yoongi walks to his bed with you, laying you atop the big mattress. He climbs over you, caging you under his big, strong body. You open your legs willingly, hands slipping from his hair to grasp the sheets instead. 

The kiss breaks because he broke it. His hot breath graces your skin. He cradles your cheek, thumb caressing your temple.

“My treasure, I”, he begins, fingers dimpling your soft thigh possessively, “I need you. I need you so much, I can scarcely breathe. Will you have me?”

You nod your head vigorously, stomach fluttering in what was to come. 

“I need to hear it, please.”

“I will. I will have you”, you allow him, parting your legs. 

Yoongi moans your name and kisses you, pulling you up into a sitting position to take off your sword. Your fingers are busy with his shirt, undoing the knots and bows. You break apart for just a moment, taking off your clothes. You cannot bother to be dressed. 

A moment of calm after the undressing, used to stare at each other. You are both kneeling on the bed, facing each other. He is panting, growling deeply each time he exhales like a dragon ready to spit fire. The sound makes you wetter each time he does it. His torso is muscular and his scales hug his form as if he was wearing armour. They are mostly around his chest and upper back and fade out on his lower torso. His legs and crotch are free of scales, skin golden and sun-kissed and looking so human. You touch him, tracing the scales first before making your way down to his legs. 

He lets you, eyes mesmerised by the plumpness of your breasts and the curves of your bared body. He reaches out, sending his fingers on a walk along your landscape. 

“You are so beautiful”, he speaks softly, eyes gazing at the goosebumps his touch draws to the surface. 

“You are just as beautiful”, you tell him, caressing the silken skin of his stomach.

You reach his hips. His skin is so soft there and sensitive to scratches. You give him exactly that, making his cock twitch between his thighs. 

Yoongi’s cock wasn’t human and the first time you saw it in its full size, you understood why so many dragons ended up hurting their lovers. It was the cock of a dragon, made for dragon. If he was in his true form, you are actually unable to take it because of its enormous size. If he was in his human form, it shrunk with him, but it was still insanely big in comparison to human cocks. His cock curved slightly in the shape of an S. He wasn’t smooth as humans were, instead his length had an engorged tip with a textured shaft, which stimulated even your deepest spots. When he released inside you, his base swelled up, keeping his cock lodged inside you until your quivering walls had enough of drinking his nectar. 

You were scared at first and Yoongi, feeling just a little insecure that you couldn’t like his cock, told you that you could still escape if you so wished to do. The fear in his voice drew you closer to him back then and you assured him that you could make it work because you wanted nobody else to fill you than him. He took your virginity that night and for not one second, you felt pain or discomfort, lying in his arms afterwards while his fingertips drew shapes of adoration on your skin and he whispered how much he adored you.

The memories of countless shared nights draw you closer to him and your hand to his cock, tracing his textured shaft. Despite his many pumps and crevices, his skin was soft to the touch. He was hotter than humans and it made his length feel incredible inside. It is best described as a feeling of burning from the inside in the most pleasurable of ways and once he releases inside, oh, once his hot cream fills your belly to the point of bloating, the heat is so intense that you often end up screaming in ecstasy. 

You close your fingers around his base tightly and drag them up to his tip. The pressure is enough to squeeze droplets of precum out of his slit, eliciting a deep growl from him. 

He frowns, exhaling a hot swirl of breath on your face. It wasn’t painful, simply insanely arousing. His fingers dimple your hips as he grabs you. You wobble slightly from the intense touch, hand trembling around his large cockhead.

“You are playing with fire”, he lulls, eyelids heavy in pleasure.

“I like it hot”, you taunt, twisting your fist around his tip. 

“You drive me insane”, he gets out and slaps your hand away for the sole purpose of pushing you into the sheets. He pins your hands above your head. “One day it will end in your punishment.” 

You moan, writhing under him. You wouldn’t mind being punished if it meant that you could feel his touch.

“Stay like this.” 

You whimper, nodding your head in obedience. 

“I will be gentle, I promise.” 

He lowers his lips to your neck, kissing a path down to your heat. He is hasty in his kisses, letting his impatience shine through this way. Dragons, so he told you, are a greedy people. Once they lust for something - or in his case, someone - they would do anything to claim it as quickly as possible. Stuff like taking it slow and preparing you are foreign to his people, but he does it for you. He is so good in being patient, but sometimes his greed shines through. Tonight for example when he kisses a greedy and hasty path down your body just so he could be between your legs faster. 

He places one kiss on each of your inner thighs, strong fingers gripping your flesh afterwards to pull your legs apart. His fiery eyes race over your exposed cunt, flickering hungrily.  

“You are so wet already”, he rasps. 

“I wanted you all week.” 

“I wanted you more, you have no idea.” 

Patience finally leaves him and he claims what he lusts for most, drawing a yelp of pleasure from you. You arch your back, legs shaking in his hold and fingers grasping his thick hair as he feasts on your cunt sloppily. 

Yoongi pleases you with his mouth for two reasons, he told you. The first reason is his insatiable hunger and greed. You are sweeter than anything he could ever taste and your cunt’s nectar makes his head blurry in pleasure. The second reason is the more important one. It is to make you ready for his dragonic cock. The spit of a dragon is relaxing to a human, it contains elements which not only heighten the sensitivity of their nerve endings, but which also relaxes the muscles so their holes could take a dragon’s cock easily. Yoongi confessed to you back then that the reason why so many dragons hurt their human lovers is because they don’t take time to properly relax them. They let their lust and greed control them and as a result hurt their humans.

Yoongi would never. Yoongi takes his time with you. He licks every inch of your dripping heat, buries his long tongue deep in your walls and pumps it into you until your tightened walls loosened up and you are gaping for his cock. He licks you to orgasm whenever he prepares you and you always shake in his grip, forcing his greed to grow to unbearable levels. Yoongi loves your orgasms as much as he loves gold. 

Tonight is no different, Yoongi draws an overwhelming orgasm out of you. You scream, legs trying to close on his head and weakened body helplessly shaking on the sheets. Yoongi growls into you, pushing his fingers deep into your loose cunt so he could feel your walls tremble. 

He keeps them inside you after your high ebbed down, curling them greedily while his soiled lips kiss up your body. He grabs your wrists and holds them together, big body draped over yours and fingers rubbing your sensitive insides. 

“You’re sweating”, he rasps, gazing at you obsessively.

“Please fuck me, please”, you beg, voice so close to a sob. His fingers aren’t enough. “I need your cock, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

“I will be gentle, I promise”, he says, slipping his fingers from your cunt to jerk his own cock. He guides it to your gaping cunt, rubbing it through your folds. “You are so beautiful, my treasure”, he breathes, giving you all his adoration by pushing into you. 

You gasp, tensing up under him at the feeling of his engorged tip pushing past your entrance.

“Are you hurting?” he asks, moving as slowly as possible. 

You shake your head, gazing up at him droopily. 

“Tell me if it does. You are doing so well, my treasure”, he whispers, fingers rubbing your swollen clit to make the breach easier. 

“It feels so good…” 

You can feel his large tip as it digs deeper and deeper, but what truly feels like heaven are the many pumps and crevices filling you. Your entrance is on pleasurable fire, feeling every texture inch by inch. His saliva made your walls sensitive to the very end, forcing you to feel his textured cock even deep inside. He curves so perfectly that his large tip presses against you deepest pleasure spot, forcing your belly to bulge just a little because he was so, so big. 

“I’m in. Does it hurt?” he asks, keeping still for your sake. His greed tells him to take you rough. It takes everything inside him not to give into his animalistic side. 

You spill tears. 

“No. No, I’m sorry I-” he panics, but gets stopped when you rip your hands free from his grasp to cradle his face instead.

“I love you, Yoongi.” 

He shudders, melting into your hands.

“I love you too”, he gets out and twists the pillow above your head as he begins pumping his cock into you. “Does this please you?”

“A-ah”, you let out, trembling in reaction. 

“Is it too much?”

“No, please…don’t stop”, you croak, rolling your eyes back as you fall into the pleasurable fire. Your lips part, making way for the endless noises of bliss he draws out of you. It feels so good. He feels so good.

“You are so beautiful. Oh, I need you. I want you. I crave you, argh”, he growls, twisting the pillow rougher as his greedy hips pick up speed. Your moans drive him wild, the view of your glowing face has the same effect on him than the view of fresh gold does. He feels high, head pounding as he feeds his insatiable lust with each heavy, deep thrust. 

Your body is so small under him, looking so fragile and breakable and yet you take him so easily. Yoongi rips the pillow, grinding his fangs as he growls. He buries his cock deeper in your gaping walls, forcing your back to arch off the mattress and for your voice to rise in pitch. He lets his tail grow just so he could wrap it around your waist and hold you in this position while he rubbed your pulsating clit and fucked your soft cunt. 

“You’re mine. My treasure, my everything, my beloved”, he chants, deep voice contorted in pleasure.

He is still in disbelief that you can take him so easily. So small, so fragile, so soft and yet you can house him entirely. The first time he laid with you, Yoongi barely went past his first two inches, moving carefully and slowly just so he wouldn’t hurt you. He would have been fine if that was all that you could ever take, but you proved him so wrong. He can be free with you. You can fully take him and it makes you moan so blissfully that Yoongi feels high just from the sound of it.

He is so blessed to have you. His treasure, his beloved, his everything. His tail tightens around your waist possessively, angling your hips so he could go so much deeper. 

You wail his name, fingers gripping his strong arms and legs dropping as they stop working. Only his tail holds you up right now while you shake under him.

“Are you?”

“Yes”, you wail, moaning loudly afterwards.

“I need you, I fucking need you”, he spits, cursing because you anger him in pure lust, “I’m going to fill you with my seed until you’re bursting. I will paint your walls golden, you will be mine. Mine forever, urgh.” 

“Please! Please make me yours, please!” 

Yoongi lets out a dragonic growl, ripping the pillow apart and throwing his head back as your pleas break him. His big balls empty themselves in your trembling heat, giving you so much pleasure that you orgasm again with screams of his name. There is so much of his seed and it doesn’t want to stop, filling you up past your limits so it squirts out of you with each angry thrust. And Yoongi keeps going until his base swells and he genuinely cannot move his cock anymore. 

He drops his head into the crook of your neck, huffing and puffing demonically. His cock is still releasing into you, making you sob because the pressure of his engorged base and swollen tip against your overly sensitive walls makes you orgasm again. 

“Yoongi, I can’t do this. I can’t, it feels too good”, you plead, walls clenching around his swollen cock as they drink his golden seed greedily. 

“I know, my treasure, I know”, he soothes you, “I can’t stop. I’m so greedy, I can’t stop. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t do this, Yoongi. Yoongi please”, you beg, barely able to breathe. While dragon’s spit relaxes, their seed gives a human a rush of pleasure. The first time it happened, you cried because it was so overwhelming. You still need to cry often whenever he breeds you and tonight all that holds you back is the loving embrace of his tail around your waist. It feels so good but also like too much because you cannot stop orgasming.

“Not again, ah please Yoongi!!”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s almost over, I promise. Please hold onto me, it’s almost over”, he soothes you, massaging your engorged clit to make it easier to bear. 

Your stomach is so bloated from his seed, you are sweating so much. He can feel one more load building up. 

“I need you to breathe for me. One last time, I promise”, he lulls and rolls his hips into you. 

You writhe and scream, scratching down his neck with all your might. You don’t draw blood because his scales protect him, but he still feels it as a pleasurable tingle. 

Yoongi lifts his head to look at you. It lasts one second because then his eyes roll back as the view of your ruined, drugged body sets him off. 

“I love you”, he wails, bursting into you one last time. He makes you orgasm with him, walls tightening to the point of milking him dry. 

This is what you both needed. To be so connected. 

He drops his head back into your neck, fingers slipping from the ruined pillow to pet your head instead.

“My treasure, oh my treasure, my golden beloved”, he croaks, kissing you gently, “I’m sorry for being so greedy, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. I’m so happy”, you get out, body laying limp and ruined under him. His swollen cock is still inside you, keeping every droplet of his golden seed in you. It warms you so much, makes you feel so good.

“You are? You’re happy?” he asks.

“So happy.” You hug him with your weak arms, barely able to close them around his broad back. “I’m yours.”

He whimpers, seeking your closeness by hugging you against his chest with his strong arm and his tail. 

“Oh my most loved treasure.” He kisses a slow path up to your face, cradling your cheek with his unoccupied hand. “Will you stay the night? I promise to fly you down to the village by morning.” 

“Yes, I’d like to stay. I couldn’t possibly walk tonight. Not after how you ruined me.”

A shy giggle slips from his lips. You open your eyes, meeting his giddy gaze. His cheeks are flushed, his dark hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead. The view of him makes his cock feel so much better inside you. You are his. So entirely and willingly his. 

“I couldn’t help it. I missed you so much and, and you are so tempting. Did I hurt you?”

“No, it felt so good. You still do”, you say, clenching around his swollen cock. He shudders slightly, drawing closer to you.

“I promise my cock will soften soon, you just feel so good. I’m trying, but he wants to bask in you longer, I’m sorry.” 

“I hope he doesn’t soften soon. I don’t want this to end.” 

He blushes, but needs to seek more reassurance still.

“Please forgive me for the way I acted when I bred you. I acted like a greedy animal.” 

“Mhm, you did. Because you are a greedy animal. My greedy dragon, mine”, you say caressing his soft cheek.

He leans into your touch, eyes lowering in adoration. You giggle, scrunching your nose cutely. He smiles, brushing some messy strands of hair out of your forehead. 

“I love you, my little human.”

“And I love you, my strong dragon.”

[puppetmaster13u]

Another Ghost Dragon Prompt? Indeed.

The Ward had made a mistake. Had stolen something that had caused the very Skies to lash out, entire worlds at risk from their actions.

Time Itself shrieked in rage at the loss of Its child, or at least that's how every magic user- and the speedsters, pale and shaken and looking sick- had described it.

Someone had taken the young prince of the Infinite, and it was not the Tyrant King, long since sealed away, that lead the charge, but the Queen Regent that many had long since forgotten.

Many forgot that it was not the Dark who courted Time, but Time who courted the Dark. That It was just, if not more so, merciless as Its partner, and would Devour worlds should Its child- still with newdeath soft scales- was not returned.

Which meant that for the heroes, there was now a Clock ticking down ever so quietly. They had to take care of what was a government branch, had to deal with consequences of going over the law, or their World would End in dragon fire.

[duriens]

.

[idkyetxoxo]

Gwayne Hightower - Rivalries

Summary - She is the object of affection for Gwayne, her devoted husband and her resentful brother, Daemon. As passion ignites and jealousy simmers, secrets and desires threaten to unravel, culminating in a game where love and power collide in the shadows of the palace.

Pairing - Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen reader

Warnings - Sexual content (oral f!receiving)

Word count - 2516

Masterlist for Gwayne • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

Men have always possessed an uncanny knack for wielding power, bending influence to their will in ways both obvious and subtle. 

Few embody this more fully than Otto Hightower, a man whose calculating mind and scheming nature have ensnared him a firm grip on our realm.

Through a web of calculated marriages, he has planted his kin at the heart of the Targaryen dynasty. 

First, he manoeuvred his only daughter into marriage with the king, my brother Viserys, making her queen and securing his own proximity to the throne. But that wasn't enough for Otto. 

He orchestrated a second union, binding me, the realm's princess and sister to the king, to his eldest son, Gwayne. 

In doing so, Otto has gained control over both the king and me, each one of us a pawn in his designs.

Now, with his daughter wielding influence over the king and his son ensnared in my favour, Otto's reach is all-encompassing. 

Through the queen's soft-spoken whispers, he bends Viserys to his will, while through his son's bond with me, he consolidates his sway over the princess of the realm—a princess who, in turn, holds her brother's ear and favours the Hightower cause.

Fortunately for Otto, his son Gwayne is entirely enchanted by me, his devotion unwavering. 

But not all in House Targaryen are as easily convinced of these alliances' virtues. 

Our brother Daemon alone harbours deep resentment, his contempt for Otto's manipulations a fire that no amount of diplomacy can cool.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

"Stop watching me," I murmured with a teasing smile, adjusting my earrings. 

Gwayne leaned casually against the doorway, his gaze openly admiring, though a flicker of something sharper lingered in his eyes.

"How can I not?" he replied, his voice low, as if savouring every detail of the moment.

His laugh was soft, rich with affection, but I knew him too well not to see that spark of possessiveness beneath it. 

It was a look that said he was proud, even smug, that I was his—but also quietly wary, as though he were forever warding off the shadow of some unseen rival.

I smirked, glancing at him through the mirror as I adjusted a wayward strand of hair. 

"Go down to the feast, Gwayne," I urged, straightening up, my reflection catching his eyes in the glass. "I'll be along soon enough."

He let out a playful sigh, his shoulders drooping in exaggerated disappointment. 

"I had hoped to walk in with the most beautiful lady in all the realm on my arm," he said, the feigned pout quirking his lips, inviting my laughter.

"Patience, love. You'll have your moment," I replied, the corners of my mouth lifting as he leaned in, cupping my face with familiar warmth. He kissed me, his lips lingering as if reluctant to let go. 

Even as he pulled back, his eyes promised he'd claim me again before the night was over.

With a last, wistful look, he turned to leave, his presence an absence that weighed on the air. And then he was gone.

Down in the great hall, the feast was already a whirlwind of flickering torches, laughter, and the clamour of goblets raised in toasts. 

Gwayne moved through the crowd with ease, his gaze courteous, his nods respectful. But then, as though fate delighted in twisting the knife, he found himself face-to-face with Daemon.

Daemon, who leaned against a pillar with that insufferable smirk of his, every inch the dangerous prince. 

His eyes held an unsettling gleam, something unreadable lurking behind their dark depths as he regarded Gwayne with a look that felt almost too intimate.

"My sister finally had the sense to let you walk alone?" Daemon's voice was as smooth as silk, but each word was sharpened to wound, his arms crossing as he took in Gwayne with a mocking tilt of his head.

Gwayne's smile was a flash of polished steel, his voice unflinching. 

"Wouldn't that be your wish, my prince?" he returned, his tone honeyed with feigned respect. "Then you might finally have her all to yourself."

Daemon's smirk wavered, his jaw tightening as the ever-so-carefully constructed façade cracked, allowing the faintest flicker of irritation to bleed through. 

Daemon might have titles and power, but there was one thing, one person, he would never possess—and that knowledge ate away at him, poisoned the edge of his smile.

"Oh, don't worry," Daemon said, lifting his goblet to his lips, his gaze cold and unwavering. "One day, she'll tire of you. And when that day comes, she'll come crawling to me."

Gwayne let out a low, quiet laugh, a sound rich with derision. He leaned in, closing the gap between them, his words barely more than a murmur. 

"Don't hold your breath," he said smoothly. "I wouldn't want you waiting forever."

Their words were razor-sharp whispers, thinly veiled threats exchanged like a deadly dance, both men balancing on the precipice of violence. 

But as if the gods themselves had a sense of irony, the hall doors swung open just then.

In unison, both men turned, their eyes falling upon me as I entered. 

Gwayne's breath audibly caught, his pride swelling as he caught sight of Daemon's face—his gaze darkening as he took in the emerald green gown I'd chosen, a proud declaration of my allegiance, of my bond with Gwayne. 

The colour was a statement, a reminder, a choice that all in the hall would recognize.

I lifted a gloved hand, waving lightly to Daemon, whose returning smile was as thin and strained as a worn-out thread. 

But then I shot a wink to Gwayne, my mouth curving into a private smile that only he understood. A victorious smile spread across his lips, his chest swelling slightly.

"Now, doesn't she look divine?" he murmured to Daemon, his voice rich with the satisfaction of a man who knows he's won, his eyes alight with triumph as he cast a quick, cutting glance at his rival.

Daemon's smile wavered, barely masking the smouldering bitterness that darkened his gaze. His voice was a dangerous purr, admiration and resentment blending like poison in his tone. 

"Irresistible," he replied, his eyes lingering on the fabric that marked my choice, his gaze smouldering with an unspoken challenge.

Gwayne leaned closer, his voice thick with intent, his words low enough for Daemon to hear. "I look forward to removing that gown later tonight."

Daemon's jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. The tension between them sharpened, each man a wire strung too tight, vibrating with a resentment just waiting to snap.

"Perhaps," Gwayne taunted, his smile razor-thin, "the rogue prince might content himself with watching from a respectful distance, praying to the gods for a fortune like mine."

Daemon's knuckles whitened around his goblet, his calm veneer slipping, barely. 

He looked like he might have lunged forward had I not arrived between them, drawing both of their heated gazes to myself.

"Are you two playing nice?" I asked lightly, laughter lacing my voice, breaking the taut string of animosity between them.

Gwayne wasted no time, slipping an arm possessively around my waist and pulling me close. He took my face in his hands, kissing me with a passion that left me breathless, his intent to stake his claim clear as day. 

I pulled back, cheeks flushed, my breath catching as I smiled up at him.

Daemon cleared his throat sharply, his gaze hardening, but his practised smile never wavered. "Of course we are, sister," he said, his voice as smooth as ever. 

But in his eyes a storm was brewing.

I laughed, stepping forward to kiss him on the cheek in sisterly affection. But Daemon's face tilted, ever so slightly, guiding my kiss dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. 

I pulled back with a startled laugh, brushing it off as an innocent miscalculation, but I didn't miss the way Gwayne's hand tightened possessively around my waist.

"We should greet the other guests," Gwayne said, his voice a low murmur laced with steel as he pulled me firmly to his side, making his claim crystal clear.

With one last smile at Daemon, I let Gwayne lead me through the crowd, our departure marked by a final, simmering look over his shoulder. 

Daemon's eyes tracked us, his expression carefully schooled, yet the slight, almost triumphant smirk that tugged at his lips betrayed his satisfaction.

It was a look that promised he would not let the matter rest, a hint of smugness at the intimacy we'd shared, however fleeting. 

In his mind, he'd scored a small victory in this endless, unspoken war—and he would savour it until his next move.

The night wore on, music and laughter swelling around us, but Gwayne's attention never strayed. 

His hand on my waist was a constant, possessive presence, his fingers tracing circles that sent heat flooding to my cheeks. 

There was a hunger in his gaze that he made no attempt to hide, a smouldering desire barely held in check.

"You're very eager tonight," I whispered, my lips brushing his ear. 

A thrill ran through me as he shivered under my breath, his hand tightening at my side, thumb brushing the curve of my breast in a bold, teasing stroke.

His answering smile was both reverent and defiant. 

"No one but you is to blame for that," he murmured, his voice low, a promise woven in each syllable. He glanced around the hall, and for a moment, his gaze caught Daemon's.

The look between them was a spark, igniting something dangerous. 

Daemon's smirk faltered as he held Gwayne's gaze, a silent tension crackling between them before he turned away with a barely concealed scoff. 

I sensed the dark resolve kindling in Gwayne, a thrill of excitement creeping into his touch.

"Come with me," he whispered, the command and excitement unmistakable. His hand tightened around mine, and with a quick tug, he led me through the hall. 

I could barely keep up, my surprised laughter echoing softly as we slipped past the others, evading curious glances.

"Gwayne, what are you—" I managed, breathless as he pulled me into the shadows of a secluded balcony. 

The night air was cool, adding a thrill of secrecy as he backed me against the stone, his gaze sharp with intent.

"I can't restrain myself any longer," he murmured, his eyes blazing with hunger as he dropped to his knees before me. 

My heart pounded as his hands gathered the fabric of my gown, his movements reverent yet bold, his hands urgent.

"Gwayne—someone might—" 

My words faltered into a gasp as he parted my legs, his mouth hovering tantalizingly close. The thrill of it all, the forbidden nature, sent a rush of heat through me as I glanced over my shoulder at the empty corridor.

"Trust me," he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly plea, edged with defiance. 

His eyes flared with something fierce and unapologetic, daring me to pull away, to deny him what he was ready to give.

Before I could fully gather my thoughts, he pressed his mouth to me, his touch igniting a fire that swept through my entire being. 

My head fell back, my eyes fluttering shut as I stifled a moan, my hand flying to cover my mouth.

I lost myself to the blissful rhythm of his touch, his mouth working with an expertise that left me breathless, every stroke intentional and unrelenting. 

Each soft sound he coaxed from me only drove him further, his hands gripping my hips possessively, grounding me against the hard stone.

"That's it, love," he murmured between kisses, his gaze lifting to mine even as he pressed deeper, his eyes filled with a dark devotion. 

I was lost to him, each wave of pleasure pulling me further under, blissfully unaware of the game he had set into motion.

Unseen by me, Gwayne's gaze flicked to the dimly lit corridor, his senses on high alert, waiting. 

He was all too aware that Daemon would pass through this corridor, lured by both routine and curiosity.

And here, tucked against the shadowed stone of the balcony with me, Gwayne intended to make the prince pay for every hidden glance and lingering touch that Daemon had stolen.

It wasn't long before Daemon appeared, his strides purposeful yet wary, as though drawn by some invisible pull. 

He stopped abruptly in the shadows just beyond the balcony, his eyes widening, expression caught somewhere between shock and fascination as he took in the scene before him.

Gwayne lifted his head for the briefest moment, his eyes meeting Daemon's across the dim corridor. 

His mouth, slick with evidence of his devotion, curved into a wicked, triumphant smile—a silent victory. He had claimed this moment, his eyes taunting Daemon with a satisfaction that words could not convey. 

He knew Daemon's love for me, knew the jealousy that burned beneath every calm exterior, every fleeting glance.

Daemon's jaw tightened, his fists clenched at his sides, and yet he did not turn away. He was rooted to the spot, compelled by a combination of fury and helpless longing. 

Gwayne held his gaze, the smirk deepening as he pressed his mouth back against me, his movements more fervent, almost performative, meant to drive the rogue prince mad with envy.

I remained blissfully unaware, caught in the waves of pleasure, my mind fogged with sensation. 

The world beyond Gwayne's touch faded into oblivion, my body responding to his every movement as he held me tightly, anchoring me against the balcony. 

I gasped, feeling my restraint begin to shatter under his care, my body trembling against his hands, and I clutched onto his shoulders to steady myself.

Gwayne's eyes darted up once more, relishing the sight of Daemon—livid, yearning, utterly defeated in that moment. 

The prince's face was a mask of restrained anger and desire, his fingers flexing as if to break something, or perhaps to reach for me, to grasp what lay mere inches beyond his reach.

Gwayne's smirk deepened, triumphant, revelling in the one prize Daemon could neither claim nor deny himself from wanting.

With one last smouldering glance at the prince, Gwayne returned his full attention to me, his mouth and hands working in tandem, ensuring I was lost entirely to him. 

He whispered praises into my skin, quiet enough that only I could hear, a stark contrast to the dark thrill he shared with his rival just beyond my view.

Daemon stood, his chest rising and falling, but Gwayne gave him nothing more—no acknowledgement, no satisfaction. 

He closed his eyes, committing every reaction, every soft gasp of mine to memory, a final mark of his victory before Daemon could bear it no longer. 

With a rigid turn, Daemon left, his face a storm of rage and resignation as he vanished into the darkened corridor.

When I opened my eyes, breathless and flushed, I found Gwayne's gaze on me, filled with pride, as though I were the centre of his world.

"What?" I asked with a dazed smile, noticing the glint of triumph in his eyes.

"Nothing, love," he murmured, his thumb stroking my cheek tenderly as he helped me steady myself. "Just admiring how perfect you are." 

His smirk softened as he leaned up to capture my lips, the victory between him and Daemon remaining a secret I would never know.

A/n - this didn't execute how I wanted exactly but I'm too lazy to change it now

Gwayne tag list - @deniixlovezelda @randomnerdyfan

[bluelikebruises]

wanna be yours || rhaenyra & daemon targaryen x f!reader

Rhaenyra Targaryen/TargaryenF!Reader/Daemon Targaryen 18+ MDNI! summary: scared of thunderstorms you seek shelter in the confines of your sister's chambers. but things quickly escalate and you find yourself forgetting all about the storm w/c: 8.2k tw: SMUT, 18+, plot? what plot?, INCEST, threesome, slight breeding kink, loss of virginity, cunnilingus, nipple play, some choking, creampie, rough & gentle daemon, slight ooc daemon, lost the plot about half way through tbh, not proof read

a/n: havent written in a while my bad yall the claws of depression got me and then i got a job (booooo). promised a rhaenicent oneshot but yall got this instead im so sorry ((your honor i’m working on it i swear!)) second time ever writing smut so please be kind, any comments or suggestion for improvement feel free to let me know <3

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A storm rages outside the walls of Dragonstone, the ocean and sky bashing against the windows of your chambers. They howl and thrash relentlessly, the rolling sound of thunder striking your heart with fear. As a child it reminded you of dragon roars soothing your unease but now it gave no such comfort.

Most nights when you had resided in the Keep the maesters would inform you of an approaching storm and you would sneak into your fathers chambers and read. You’d read passages of your favorite books and poems aloud to him. Whether he was asleep or awake never bothered you, you simply appreciated his presence. 

Another cry of crackling thunder falls upon your ears causing your heart to hammers in your chest. You silently wish you were not alone feeling as though you were a child, small, powerless, and frightened of the world. If you were in King’s Landing you could simply walk to your fathers chambers and let the storm rage on. But as your luck would have it you were miles away. 

For the past few months you had been residing in Dragonstone as a ward to your sister and her husband. You had loved every minute of your stay up until tonight, in hopes of alleviating your fears you shut your eyes trying to forget about the storm outside. 

Your thoughts are scrambled for a moment before you begin to recall your stay in Dragonstone. You’ve made an array of memories from tutoring Jacaerys in High Valyrian to games played with Joffrey and Viserys to your name day celebration. While you try to recall the many more you had, your thoughts are interrupted by the piercing sound of striking lightning. 

It hurts your ears sending a shiver down your spine, Rhaenyra crosses your mind but you know she is lying with her husband—who would waste no time in making a jest out of your fear. You want to banish the possibility of seeking shelter in Rhaenyra, after all you were far too old to sneak into her chambers. But as another flash of lightning bellows through the sky you could no longer stay still. Fear and anxiety guide your movements as you stand and grab the cloak at the end of your bed.

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The castle isn’t as frightening as the Red Keep under the cover of night, yet you still move quickly through its large cold corridors. With shaking hands you make a valiant effort to knock gently on the giant doors of your sister's chambers, pausing to hear for any movement but none comes. 

With no response you knock again this time with a bit of urgency. You don’t have the luxury of waiting for a response as thunder echoes through the stone causing you to yelp. Without thought you push the door open uninvitedly stepping inside. You do your best to shut the door quietly unsure what to do next. The thunder had passed and yet the patting rain could still be heard. You had not thought this far ahead, what were you supposed to do? Sneak into her bed? 

The room is dark, lit by the beams of moonlight that pour in, it’ll take some moments before your eyes adapt to the shadows of the night. Before you could think to move the sound of rustling and a sword unsheathing alert you of a presence. You need not see who it is to know it is your uncle Daemon. 

You curse yourself turning to face him. He holds his sword pointing it towards your chest and it should frighten you but the storm outside threatens you more than he does.

“There is no honor in killing a man while he sleeps”, he says, stepping into the light of the moon ready to strike your unrecognizable form. 

“I do not intend on killing you Uncle”

At your words his sword drops, “Sweet Dragon, why are you sneaking into our chambers?”

You’ve come to grow accustomed to your moniker slipping from his mouth in a mocking manner, but tonight his voice holds no ill intent. 

Lightning cuts through the sky in a loud shout before you can respond. Your skin crawls and you’re trying to keep your voice from wavering, “It’s quite loud”

“Are you frightened?” he asks, stepping towards you. His eyes bore into yours and under the moonlight it’s as if they are glowing. 

Your heart stammers and you shake your head in embarrassment, clearly lying. A small grin spreads against his lips and you know he sees right through you. The thought and his gaze becomes too much for you to bear as your eyes fall onto the floor. 

“There is no one around to pretend for”, he places his hand under your chin as he tilts your head up, to once again meet his gaze. His gentle demeanor disarms you, most times he’s brutish, arrogant, and entirely uninterested in you. 

“I am merely skittish . . .” you clasp your hands behind your back trying to appear more collected than you felt. 

He looks you over, his eyes sparkle in the moonlight only this time you’re unable to avert your gaze. His fingers hold you still and a sinking feeling of being prey washes over you.

“Rhaenyra?” he asks 

The voice of your sister emerges from the darkness surprising you, “Yes, my love,” 

“It seems our intruder is our favorite little princess”, his fingers trace your jaw, concentrating his eyes on your lips. 

Fear is an afterthought as an indescribable feeling crawls up your body. Your stomach flips under his touch and you fear to know why. 

Rhaenyra says your name, “Come here” 

Without a second thought you walk towards her voice, your eyes now adjusting to the moonlight making out shadows in the darkness. 

Rhaenyra sits upon her bed, furs laid spread over her lap she smiles fondly as you approach. 

Once you’re before her she instructs you to sit, “Has the storm unnerved you?” she asks, placing her hands on yours. They’re soft and her touch is almost enough to make you forget why you had entered her chambers to begin with.

“It is quite loud” 

“Yes you have said that already” Daemon says. His approach has gone unnoticed by you as he stands opposite of Rhaenyra. The side of the bed you assumed he slept on. 

“I read to father during storms,” you admit sheepishly

“Oh you poor sweet girl” she coos, “Would you like to read to us?”, you nod almost enthusiastically, “Come then” she pulls you forward unfastening your cloak. 

The warmth of her hands on your exposed shoulder sends you into a panic. Your septa had made it clear how your virtue was to be maintained until you married. No living eyes were to be set on your chaste skin but your future husband’s and yet you sat next to your sister who threatened to stain your skin. You tremble under her touch unsure how you could deny her. 

Grabbing her hands you halt her movements, “I’m only reading, I’ll be returning to my chambers once the storm passes”

“Of course” she agrees, “But while you are here my husband and I can keep you warm, as can the furs” 

Her smile kills your resolve and like a puppet in her control you cave in, Rhaenyra had always had that effect on you. You thought so highly of her and loved her dearly of course you were always eager to please. Any want or command uttered by her and you’d comply instantly. 

Removing your hands from hers, the cloak falls from your shoulders and she tosses it aside. You shiver as the cold air comes in contact with your bare skin. The nightgown you wore was less than modest, showing more skin then was appropriate for a lady let alone a princess. The feeling of being gawked at consumes you—their eyes burn into your skin.

“Come here princess” Daemon’s voice makes your knees weak. In the moonlight you see a smile on Rhaenyra’s lips, you take it as encouragement and crawl onto the bed. You settle between both their bodies but Daemon tugs at you pulling you towards him, the movement causes your nightgown to slide up your thighs exposing more of your skin. 

If your septa could see you now… you cringe at the thought mortified. Your heart patters rapidly, Gods if it kept beating you were sure Daemon and Rhaenyra were going to hear it. 

If Daemon notices your exposed skin he doesn’t show it, he rather seems preoccupied with adjusting you before him. His legs spread as he sat you between them, his chest pressed against your back as he loomed over you. 

He grabs at your sides pulling you closer to him, and if your heart didn't explode before it exploded when you felt Rhaenyra lips kiss your shoulder then rest her head where she had kissed. 

Your mind and heart betray you as you become a victim to their siren song. You’re a vision of adultery and sin, it’s wrong–unbecoming of a princess and yet you do nothing to stop them. 

With his left arm Daemon keeps you tucked under him and he wraps his right around Rhaenyra who nestles into your shoulder. You had not thought this was where you would find yourself at the beginning of the night. 

The storm is a long way from your thoughts as you try to figure out how your body fits into theirs, if it could. You’re against both of them unsure of how to move. 

You feel Daemon reach for something, “Read this” his breath touches your ear as he places a book on your lap. Being caught between them you had almost forgotten how you ended up practically on Daemon’s lap. 

Picking up the book you read the title, The Mythos of the Land Beyond Essos: Yiti. The book provides a much welcomed distraction, you had heard of Yiti before but only in passing from Lord Coryls. 

“Is it real?” you ask absentmindedly to no one in particular

“Of course it is, sweet girl,” Rhaenyra says, slithering her arm over your lap fully intrapping you in their hold 

Opening the book you were met with half of a map littered with cities and towns you had never heard of. As you turn the page the book's wear and tear is visible, it was clearly loved. For a moment you wonder if it was Rhaenyra or Daemon who loved it. Your thoughts like many times throughout the night are interrupted by thunder and relentless down pouring of rain.

You jump frightened hearing a chuckle come from Daemonand who places a kiss on your hair Any other night the gesture would have been ill fitting and strange but tonight it brings you comfort.

“Read” he gently commands and like an obedient dog you do

You read through four pages undisturbed, your voice only occasionally interrupted by the storm outside that is until you feel Daemon’s fingers on the exposed skin of your upper thigh. Gentle thoughtless traces of his fingers over your flesh. 

His touch makes you acutely aware of their bodies pressed against yours, body heat and furs warmed you like no other. With every hound of the wind and pounding of the rain you shook, which was made worse by their hands and lips trying to sooth you. 

Daemon’s left hand draws circles on your left thigh. Rhaenyra kisses your shoulder and any exposed skin she could reach. It was intoxicating her lips and his fingers. How were you supposed to read when there were two hungry dragons trying to feast upon you. 

The words you’re reading pass thoughtlessly through your mouth, once the information found a home in your mind now simply glossed over. 

Daemon’s lips fall on the nape of your neck sending a shiver down your spine and a soft whimper from your lips. 

In a small effort to keep them at bay you ask questions, it works for the first two questions but after the third Daemon grabs the book from your grasp and throws it. 

With the book out of their way they both grew relentless. Daemon kisses and nips at your neck without disregard. Rhaenyra readjusts herself to be able to access your collar bones, her lips beginning to trail up your neck and jaw. The furs had been tossed somewhere on the bed. 

“Nyra” you plead, nervous of what was to come next. Pressing your thighs together as a warm feeling emitted from your womanhood. 

“Shhh” she coos, kissing your cheek dangerously close to your lips. 

Daemon’s hand pulls your nightgown exposing more of your thighs to the night air. 

You should leave, you know you should but the thought of enduring the storm alone keeps you in place, “Perhaps…Perhaps I should r-read from another b-book” you try to stop Daemon’s hand pulling your nightgown from his grasp

Your efforts are futile as Rhaenyra interrupts you by planting her lips on yours. The action leaves you entranced by her, you melt into her lips moving yours against hers. She tastes like tea, warm and sweet. 

Under Rhaenyra’s spell you’re unaware of Daemon sliding your nightgown further and further upward. His hands stopped only to touch your inner thighs nearing your clothed cunt. You squirmed thinking of the septa’s words, the only man who can lay a finger on you is your husband.

“I can’t…I can't,” you say, breaking away from Rhaenyra and moving away from Daemon’s hold. You move away from them putting some distance between your sister and her husband. 

“Why not?” Rhaenyra asks

They’re feigning ignorance and you don’t know why, “I’m not wed” 

They both laugh and share a knowing expression. 

“Silly girl,” Daemon says, pulling you back to them, his hands dragging you back between his legs, “You are not to wed” his breath is hot against your ear as you try not to think of the heat that expels from his hands

Confusion is clear across your face, “But the Queen said—”

At the mention of Queen Alicent his grip of your flesh tightens, “To the Seven Hells with Alicent,” his hold on your flesh is half as painful as it is pleasurable. 

“You are ours”, Rhaenyra cuts in, “You shall not be sullied by hands that are not our own”, she plants a kiss on your shoulder.  

You’re unable to make sense of their words, you could not be theirs, you would only ever be your husband’s. And yet you could not find the words to say it aloud—to let them know you could not be sullied by them despite how desperately you wanted. 

Your attention is fully on Rhaenyra that the sneaking fingers along your jaw have gone unnoticed. Daemon’s fingers trace your lips before gently pushing themselves into your mouth. They’re cold as he presses them against your tongue and you can taste ash. The taste is almost telling, you think. 

“Suck” Daemon commands

You hesitate for a moment frightened at the possibilities of what would happen next and what they entailed. But all your thoughts fizzle away when Rhaenyra’s mouth bites down on your shoulder and without a second thought you do, making sure they’re thoroughly coated in your saliva. He spreads his fingers exploring your mouth before shoving them down your throat. The unexpected action leaves you coughing gagging, which earns an amused laugh from Daemon as he retreats his fingers.

“Good girl” he kisses your ear and you bite your tongue in order to stifle a whimper. His words ignite a fire that spreads throughout your body, it’s alluring leaving a blazing trail of want in its wake. The need to be praised has your head spinning, never had praise elicited such a reaction from you before. You want to continue being good and dutiful for Daemon and Rhaenyra. 

Rhaenyra sits in front of you both simply watching as her husband's fingers trailed under your nightgown. He pulls your small clothes to the side, the anticipation killing you as his fingers neared. It’s reprehensible you know, but you do not have the willpower to stop him.  

Your breathing stops as two of his fingers come into contact with your sensitive pearl. He groans as he feels the heat of your cunt, drawing circles with his fingers. You bite your cheek trying to stop yourself from moaning, leaning your head against his chest. His fingers begin to accelerate as he wraps your hair around his free hand pulling you to look forward.

“Look at Rhaenyra, sweet dragon, she wants to see you” 

Your eyes catch hers, they’re lit with fervent desire, a look you had never seen before. While you wish you could stare at Rhaenyra forever, Daemon's fingers have returned to their slow pace leaving you unfulfilled and on the cusp of pleasure.

Turning to face him you plead, “Please”, you’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for, only that you need more. Embarrassed by your plead you hide your face in the crook of his neck

“Please what princess” he presses against your pearl roughly 

Through a moan you speak, “Need more” 

You don’t see the delighted smile that spreads over Daemon’s face as he gathers fistfulls of your hair forcing you out of your hiding spot. His eyes fall onto your sister and you’re trying desperately not to let out a string of unbecoming moans. 

With another tug Daemon crashes his lips onto yours, the angel which he pulls you almost hurts but his mouth and fingers provide a wonderful distraction. The kiss is rough, tongues and teeth clashing. All the while his fingers never cease their attack and you’re quickly becoming undone. 

An unfamiliar pressure builds and you find yourself near a breaking point you had never experienced. The building pleasure has your heart beating out of your chest, it’s dizzying. But just when you think you can’t take it anymore Daemon’s fingers stop and he releases your lips. You moan out in disappointment.

“Perhaps you should ask the future Queen for assistance” he pulls your hair like a rag doll. Moving you as he pleases, facing you again towards Rhaenyra. 

“Nyra please”

Gripping your hair even tighter exposing your neck he whispers, “Where are your manners?”

“Please, your highness” you beg eyes glossed over full of want

Rhaenyra smirks, leaning into you momentarily allowing your lips to meet again which you welcome eagerly. 

The kiss is gentle at first, your lips moving in sync. Her tongue laps at your bottom lip and you shutter feeling Daemon ghosting his fingers above your aching pearl. When one of his long fingers threatens to enter your leaking hole you moan into Rheanyra's mouth. She takes the opportunity to kiss you with more vigor. Her lips are so soft and you’re entranced by her, thoughts racing, why had you never kissed her before?

When she finally breaks away she leaves you breathless and you get no time to recover as she pulls the top of your nightgown down exposing your breast. Heat spreads over your cheeks, never having been so bare in front of anyone before. 

The thoughts quickly leave your mind as Rhaenyra’s tongue drags against your hardening nipple. She uses the pad of her thumb to draw circles against your nipple, the sensation adds fuel to the fire in your core. She expertly nips and sucks only stopping to change breasts. 

“N…Nyra please … enough” you try to weakly fight her off. Receiving far more stimulation from your nipples then you thought could ever be possible. Instead she removes her mouth and replaces them with her hands, pinching and pulling without regard. There’s an electrifying pain that shoots down your spine, you had never thought your breast to be so sensitive. 

Rhaenyra does not argue, continuing to toy with your breast as she moves towards her husband. She practically purrs as she nears him a smile lingering on her lips, your eyes close shut as she continues her attack. Above your shoulder she kisses Daemon as if she were not inflecting the most deliciously painful pleasure. The drool that leaked out of you was as shameful as it was degrading. 

When they finally pull away Daemon pushes a finger into your neglected hole, earning a yelp from your lips. The sudden intrusion is foreign and stings, biting your bottom lip you try to keep your cries of discomfort from spilling out.

They work in tandem drawing pleasure out of you with their expert touches. The way you squirm beneath them is pathetic and a distant image to the woman the realm knew you to be. 

“So fucking tight” Daemon says adding a second finger causing your head to spin. He moves his fingers expertly in and out of your cunt. Loving the feeling of your velvety walls, he speaks to Rhaenyra but you can’t hear them. Deaf under the spell of your uncle’s long fingers, your eyes are shut concentrating on the flowering pleasure that was beginning to take hold. 

Rhaenyra’s hands stop their movements and you’re half heartedly aware of the way the bed shifts far too caught up in your pleasure. You’re unraveling completely melted into Daemon, unable to keep your moans quiet they fall from your lips like a waterfall. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach as Daemon stretches you open fucking his fingers into you, you’re left a blubbering mess. 

His fingers mercilessly hit every spot in your spongy cunt, you take every bit of bliss he gives you. Sweat gathers on your pinched brows, your skin feels hot against the cool night air. 

After an especially hard thrust he angles his fingers just right and your walls tighten around him. You feel as though you’re going to die, your breaths come in short quick intervals, you're on the edge of pleasure nearly going under. 

And as if he read your thoughts Daemon halts his movements, removing his fingers from your warmth, “So pretty when you moan” 

Your eyes open in disappointment, missing the feeling of being played with. But Daemon gives you no time to react as he orders you to open your mouth. 

“Taste your filth”

Obediently you do, his fingers are heavy on your tongue wrapping your mouth around them tasting yourself—you’re bitter and sharp unlike anything you had ever tasted. 

When Daemon decides you’ve had enough he pulls his fingers out and kisses you. 

You’ve forgotten about Rhaenyra until you feel a wet sensation on your pearl. With a moan your eyes shift downwards where she rests on her stomach between your legs. She’s excitedly lapping you up, her tongue sending you into a frenzy as she focuses on your puffy cunt.

Moments ago you had thought the height of pleasure was your uncle’s fingers yet it was actually your sister's mouth. 

“Ngh…Nyera” 

Your cries only invigorate her, she presses her tongue into your hole and the sudden motion has you bucking your hips. She laughs into your cunt, amused, sending vibrations straight into your pearl. 

She’s an expert at what she does, her tongue running up and down your slit. Sucking on your pearl with such vigor before fucking her tongue into you. This was not the first time your sister had done such a lewd act and the thought of Rhaenyra having done this before with another woman has jealousy crawling up your back. 

Distracted by Rhaenyra you don’t feel Daemon’s hand lowering, not until his cold fingers are pressing into your pearl. Two of his fingers begin moving sporadically electrifying every fiber of your body. You’re writhing in pleasure, burning with passion consumed by Rhaenyra and Daemon, unsure of how much more you could take. Coming undone as they pull you apart just to put you back together with nothing but their hands and lips.

You’re squirming, “Uncle, Ny…Nyra I’m—I”

Like before Daemon’s movements stop followed by Rhaenyra, you look between them dazed with need and confused. You pout in frustration, tired of being dragged to the edge of pleasure only to have it ripped away from you. 

In response Daemon turns you  to face him, “Fret not sweet dragon, we’ll give you what you want”. His lips fall on yours forcibly, kissing you as if you were the only thing able to quench his hunger. 

He moves off the bed and Rhaenyra grabs your hips, pulling you towards her gently pushing you to fall onto the bed backfirst. With your legs hanging off the bed she crawls on top of you slowly, taking her time to ravish your body with bites and kisses. Her teeth sink into the softness of your flesh and though it hurts you can’t help but moan. Goosebumps rise over your body as she sucks the skin under your breast. When she’s had enough she lifts her head to meet your collar bones, she wastes no time sucking on your skin. Making sure to leave her mark on your skin. 

The feeling is different yet so enticing, full of tenderness and lust. You’re moaning under her and you realize just how empty your cunt feels as it drips for Rhaenyra. 

You need more, desperate for it your hands move not entirely sure of what you are doing only knowing you needed more of her. You pull Rhaenyra’s nightgown trying to get it off. But only managing to pull the top of it revealing her breasts. You make quick work of taking them in your hands, they’re soft and firm, plump from having been filled with milk many times. 

Her mouth releases your skin as she moans

“My two pretty nieces playing with each other, I could die a happy man right now” Daemon stands behind your bodies. His hands touch your thighs repositioning your body how he’d like. Your clay in his hands—pliable—letting him mold you however he likes rendering him full control of your being.

He slides what you can only assume is his cock between your folds moaning as he does so. Warning drums sound off in your ears, you should put a stop to the night's debauchery and end it before you’re ruined forever. But your inhibitions are lowered and you couldn’t exactly care to think what a septa or the realm would think. Not when you were pinned between Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Rhaenyra adjusts herself above you, her knees resting on either side of your hips, giving Daemon room to do as he pleases.

“How do you feel princess?” Her voice is laced with teasing affection. You are unsure how to respond if you could at all, focused entirely on the sensation of Daemon’s cock pressing against your cunt. 

He gives you no warning as he pushes the tip of cock into your weeping cunt, it’s tight and uncomfortable. The intrusion is painful; it feels like you’re being pulled apart, like your body was being set aflame. 

“Fuck” the word falls from Daemon’s lips like a prayer

The fur under you is balled in your fists trying to ease the pain, tears form in your eyes 

“Dae–”

He shushes you, “The pain will lull soon” 

“Be good for uncle, won’t you sweet girl?” Rhaenyra asks kissing along your neck

You’re nodding 

When he fully sheaths himself a painful sob escapes your lips. Your eyes are shut trying to weather the storm. You’re half frightening he’ll start fucking you, the pain would surely kill you. But he does not move, allowing you a moment to become accustomed to his length. 

“Gods, you’ve been keeping such an amazing cunt from us” he says after a moment, slowly he begins to move. Pulling himself out before gently pushing himself back in. 

The first few thrusts send shockwaves through your body. In an effort to distract you from the discomfort Rhaenyra plays with your breast. Nipping one with her mouth while she rolled the other between her thumb and forefinger. You shudder at the stark differences in sensations, like ice and fire you’re teetering the line between pleasure and pain. Tears fall from your eyes as you clenched tightly around Daemon’s cock, Rhaenyra kisses them away. 

The longer Daemon continues his intrusion the faster the pain soothes into a warm pleasure. When a moan escapes your mouth he responds with a sharp thrust. Bliss rests heavy on your brow, the lewd squelching from every thrust only adds fuel to your heightened state.

Rhaenyra moans above you, her face contorted in ecstasy, she’s the vision of desire, a nymph of lust and pleasure. You piece together that Daemon’s fingers are exploring the warmth cavern of her cunt. As you watch her, her eyes find yours and she leans down to kiss you. It’s sloppy and full of half-sound moans. Her breaths begin to quicken and for a brief moment your uncle slows his thrusts to focus on Rhaenyra. Though you miss the feeling you discovered your love for watching your sister lose herself to your uncle.

Her moans only grow louder, she’s calling out her husband's name. Pushing herself into his fingers and suffocating you with her breasts. 

She shakes, eyes rolled to the back of her head with her mouth half opened. Her body is spasming above yours, moans fall from her mouth like prayers as she peaks all over Daemon’s fingers.

She falls on top of you, her head resting on your chest as she tries to catch her breath. Without thinking you caress her hair, it's soft and smooth and it almost startles you when she looks up to you. 

For a moment while you hold her gaze the entire world falls away, nothing else matters but her. You could spend the rest of your life just gazing at her—worshiping at her altar. A gentle smile appears on her lips as she climbs off your body, she moves towards Daemon kissing him passionately. You almost averted your gaze, the act felt so intimate it did not feel right to watch.

Daemon rests comfortably inside you as they kiss, the entire time you have not been able to pull your eyes away from them. And when it is over, as if nothing had occurred Daemon resumes his relentless pace. His cock is pressed deliciously inside you forcing you to see stars. He repeats his actions over and over again. 

“Perfect fucking tits,” he leans down to catch your bouncing breast. Wrapping his lips around your nipple as he thrust harder, lapping at it like a crazed man. His mouth is hot against your skin, his tongue rough as he suckles—as if expecting milk. The thought sends a shiver down to your cunt, causing your walls to flutter against Daemon’s cock. 

“I should put a child in you just to watch your breast swell” 

You know he shouldn’t, it’s wrong you’d be ruined–-more so than you already were—no man would ever marry if you had a bastard. But you can’t suppress the moan from leaving your lips, squeezing around Daemon like a glove. His hips falter for a moment as you choke his cock, “Fuck, does the idea appeal to you?” 

“We could keep her here, have her birth our heirs, keep her stuffed with cock”, Rhaenyra chimes and her words are enough to push you over the edge vibrating with pleasure. Your back arches off the bed as your body is consumed with ecstasy. You’re first ever release racking through you without mercy. 

Daemon moans, your contracting cunt making it near impossible for him to move. 

Your chest heaves as you try to regain your breath, try to regain the composure you had lost hours ago. 

But you’re given no time to do so as Daemon pulls himself from your cunt and flips you onto your stomach. His hands grip your hips as he pulls them up, your head is pressed against the bed. A blush creeps on your cheeks, the position is lewd, one you had overheard Aegon say was reserved for whores. 

Your thoughts dissolve as Daemon runs the tip of his cock along your sensitive wet folds. His movements leave you shuddering, wanting him to just get on with it. 

“Uncle please,” you whine pushing your hips back onto him

“So eager” his hands roam the expanse of your ass before sheathing himself once more inside you. 

The angle offers you a new pleasure, spread wide before Daemon like a feast at the ready for him to devour. Your walls flutter with sensitivity and yet it does not deter Daemon from pulling ropes of pleasure out of you. It exudes from your cunt tenfold and wrenches through your body unyielding. Like everything about the night it’s overwhelming bordering the edge of pain, but you’re too drunk off Daemon and Rhaenyra to put an end to it. Not when Daemon is molding your insides, as if to make sure no other suitor could ever compare. Not that you would ever want another suitor, you could spend the rest of your life beneath Daemon. 

Cold fingers slither themselves up your spine, snaking themselves around the side of your neck. Daemon’s touch is rough, callus hands pressed against the soft of your throat. Fingers stretch over the expanse of your throat, squeezing ever so lightly and you swear you see stars. An involuntary moan escapes your lips as you arch your back into him and it's all the encouragement Daemon needs to apply more pressure. 

Every thrust from Daemon has the air in your lungs exuding at a rapid pace. Your head starts to throb, all your senses are melting into one another. Daemon’s touch is paralyzing; you're frozen, stuck in a twisted masochistic purgatory and loving every moment of it. 

The grip on your neck tightens, cutting the little airflow you were getting. Above you Daemon leans down the heat of his chest against your back. He whispers something in your ear but you can’t hear anything above the beating of your heart. You’re not sure how much longer you could take, eyes half lidded and bordering tears—you’re barely holding onto consciousness. 

Just when the arms of unconsciousness threaten to pull you under, his grip releases and his thrusts come to a stop. Like a stone dropped onto the bottom of a river your head falls straight onto the bed. You try to regain your breath, through painful breaths the sound of Rhaenyra’s laughter reaches your ears. Through your lashes you look upon her, she sits before you smiling, eyes glowing under moonlight. 

“What a spoiled princess, receiving such fervent treatment from my husband” 

In response Daemon gently kisses your back. Slowing and ever so carefully moving his hips as he does so, you moan and Rhaenyra laughs again. 

“Come now, before I’m seething with jealousy” she moves. Her legs spread before you, nightgown exposing her flesh as she adjusted. You have an idea about what means to happen next but your inexperience has you doubting your thoughts. 

Your head lifts in realization that she’s settling herself, her clothed cunt only a touch away. You’re captivated by the allure of her covered womanhood. 

“Go on princess, serve your queen” Daemon voice rings out as he reaches to tangle his hand in your hair forcing you towards Rhaenyra’s cunt. 

She looks down at you, a seductive smile playfully lingering on her lips. She lifts her dress agonizingly slow, pulling the thin layer of her nightgown exposing the smoothness of her skin. When she's finally revealed to you in all her glistening glory you waste no time, diving right into her core. You’re half surprised she wasn’t wearing any small clothes but you don’t think twice about it, devouring her with novice eagerness. 

As you run your tongue through her folds you clench around Daemon getting your first real taste of Rhaenyra. She tastes poignant and sweet like a nectar you had never known but were growing addicted too. You kiss her swollen womanhood inhaling her sweet scent, pressing your tongue against it before swirling around it. Though you know your inexperience shows you eat her up like she was your last meal in the living world. 

Her moans are music to your ears, you look up to watch as her chest heaves. Invigorated by her pleasure you flick your tongue fucking it against her dripping hole, through a half open moan her eyes fall on yours. Her brows are pinched together in ecstasy as her thighs close around your head keeping you in place not that you could think of moving away. 

The world falls away as you bring your sister to the heights of pleasure, drunk by the feeling of her warm cunt wrapped around your face. It’s lewd and disgusting and yet you can’t get enough of it. 

In a sudden motion your attention is pulled away from Rhaenyra, you’re unable to turn your head but you feel Daemon’s cock retracting before he thrust it back to the hilt. You moan into Rhaenyra, sending shooting vibrations through her. She chokes out a moan as her hand comes down to grip your hair. 

She roughly tugs as you continue the intrusion of her cunt, pushing you further into her. Your nose bumps her puffy pearl as you move uncoordinated—distracted and falling victim to Daemon’s relentless attacks. The squelching sounds of your weeping cunt sends your mind into a frenzy, it’s filthy and obscene. 

“Such a good girl,” Rhaenyra purrs, “Had I know you were so good at eating cunt I would have had you on your knees long ago” 

Her words of praise have your pussy fluttering around Daemon who grunts in response. Your mind has gone completely blank, you've lost yourself knowing nothing but the hot liquid pleasure that Daemon and Rhaenyra were tearing out of you. They’re molding you into shapes only they knew—only they could touch. 

Daemon nestles himself so deeply you’re sure if you reach down you’d feel him in your stomach. You try to keep up your pace on Rhaenyra but with Daemon’s insistent thrusts you’re having trouble, sloppily licking and inserting your tongue into her. 

“Gods you were both made for my cock”, he grunts out but you can’t think of a single response. You’re pushed into Rhaenyra with every thrust, slurping her overflowing bliss. 

At her husband’s words Rhaenyra releases you from her grasp letting her legs fall away and you take the opportunity to rest your head on the inside of her thigh. Moaning against her skin coming undone on your uncle’s cock. 

“Is that true, do you think we were made for Daemon’s cock?” Rhaenyra’s hand drops from your hair and gently caresses your face. You can hardly process their words, unable to speak, lost in pleasure and too concentrated on the feeling of Daemon pulling out then stuffing you with each thrust. 

“Did the princess forget how to speak?” Daemon teases his hand coming down to slap the meat of your ass

“She’s cock drunk” Rhaenyra laughs, grabbing your hair and pushing you back into her heat, crying out as she does so. Your tongue laps over her absentmindedly but it’s enough to have her legs trembling. 

Roughly she tugs your hair, her moans becoming more frequent and you know she’s just as close to coming undone as you are.

Minutes stretch into hours as you’re used by your sister and her husband as nothing more than an object to achieve their own pleasure. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, unable to do anything but writhe in their grasps.  

With a final lap of your tongue over her womanhood Rhaenyra comes undone against your tongue. Like before her thighs press against your head keeping you locked in place. The sounds that escape her are so indecent you would have never thought sounds like that could come out of the realms delight. Greedily you swallow everything she gives you. 

The spell Rhaenyra cast over you is broken when Daemon spanks your ass again, but now you’re able to turn your head to face him. Head laying on Rhaenyra’s thigh looking back to see Daemon smirking, continuing his assault on your sensitive walls, hips slapping against yours. 

“Uncle…Uncle” you breathe out feeling the thundering shockwaves of pleasure crashing over you. Your words do nothing to divert Daemon, who continues to fuck himself into you. 

In a matter of short moments you’re overwhelmed by pleasure—pushed over the edge by a final slap on the ass by Daemon. You muffle your cry into the bed, shaking in elation. Your body feels like it was struck by lightning, overly sensitive by the pleasure that was just ripped out of you. 

Behind you Daemon unsheathes himself from the warmth of your cavern. Without his hands holding your hips up, you drop onto the soft bed. Mind left a puddle of mush as sleep begins to weigh your eyelids. Your consciousness begins to slip into the realm of dreams, not bothering to check on the wellbeing of your sister or uncle. 

The bed dips at both ends and you feel gentle hands adjust you against the bed, laying you onto your back. 

“Come here sweet dragon I’d like you on top when I release my seed”, Daemon says crawling above you. Your eyes flutter open at the sound of his voice and he smiles down at you. 

Rhaenyra laughs from beside you, “You’re insatiable. Can’t you see she is tired” 

He turns to her, “She is free to object,” then returns to you, “Do you object princess?” 

You know you should, not sure if your body could handle any more of what Daemon wanted to give you. He would surely tear you apart, leaving his marks on your body and spent for days to come—the thought sends a thrill of anticipation down your spine. 

His eyes bear into yours and there’s a hint of softness in them you had never seen before. Of the entirety of your stay in Dragonstone he had never once spared you a glace much less held a conversation with you. Yet now he wanted nothing more than to consume you and after the events of the night your mind has gone feeble. And the look in his eyes is all persuasion you needed, through hooded eyes you shake your head. 

“There’s your answer wife” Daemon shoots her a boastful smile, in return she laughs. His attention is drawn back to you with a kiss, it’s short and sweet but you’re far too tired to appreciate it for what it’s worth. 

“Come now,” he pulls you up with him maneuvering you on top of him as he lays with his back against the bed. Without needing to be told what to do you spread your legs straddling his lap. Daemon ushers your hips over his standing manhood, gently pushing the tip of his cock into your drenched entrance. 

Your sensitive walls make it near impossible for you to fully take him. He groans below slowly pushing you further and further onto his cock. Your body shutters as you take all of Daemon, every single one of your nerve endings on fire. 

After a moment his hands fall onto your hips guiding you to rise then fall onto him. The sensation leaves you trembling, unable to hold your head up, it falls on his chest. 

Your eyes are screwed shut feeling an aching pain coiling in your stomach as tears threaten to spill out, “I…I can’t” you almost sob

He shushes you running his hand over your hair in a consoling manner, “You can”

Tears begin to stain your face as your abused walls clutch against Daemon. He thrust into you slowly, grabbing your face so you’d meet his gaze. You’re fully seated on him as a tear falls from your right eye, he brushes a tear from your face bringing your face to his. 

“Such a good girl taking me so well,” he praises, burying his head in the crock of your neck. He leaves a trail of kisses up your jaw, “Could spend the rest of my life buried inside you”

His words shouldn’t thrill you as much as they do, yet you find desire pooling at your feet lulling the coiling pain. Pleasure comes slow and then all at once bliss blossoms through your body, the sensitivity of your previous releases leaving you with a heightened sensitivity. 

Without Daemon’s guidance you lift your hips and sink yourself back down. You moan when Daemon meets your lifted hips, moving your hands onto his chest straightening your back to sit yourself comfortably. It’s like nothing you’ve felt before, you’re completely full of cock—stuffed to the brim. The feeling is addicting as if your sole purpose in life was to be seated on Daemon’s cock. 

He fucks into you quickening his pace, your cries become louder and more frequent completely entranced in a haze of blistering hot euphoria. You’re pressing your hips against his trying to reach your peak again, chasing that intoxicating feeling. Perhaps Rhaenyra’s idea was not so bad afterall, you give them all the heirs they wanted.

“You’ve been such a good girl for us” he says rutting up to you, his grip tightening around your hips. Indenting into the plush of your skin sure to leave bruises. Your mind becomes a flurry filled blur as you begin to bounce on your uncle’s cock. Hands pressed to his chest trying to find some sort of grounding leverage. You find it, if only momentarily before Daemon’s tip brushes against a spongy part of your cunt. 

A loud cry emits from your lips, unable to hold yourself together any longer. Your walls clench around Daemon who digs his fingers further onto your skin. A groan bubbles in his chest; it's almost animalistic as it travels up his throat. Your eyes fall onto his, there's a dangerous edge of hungering lust that has your head spinning. 

A dangerous smile dances on his lips as his hands travel up your chest towards your bouncing breasts. He cups them, holding them for a moment before squeezing. You shiver at the feeling of his warm fingers on your cold nipples. 

Nearly falling apart at the sensation combined with his insistent thrusts. At the speed he’s hammering you with, you know he’s about to reach his peak. Your eyes close shut when his forefinger and thumb clamp around your right nipple rolling it between them. 

You feel your head explode with pleasure, it shutters through you with such intensity your vision goes white. There’s a brief moment where you think Daemon has fucked you blind. But when you see the ‘o’ shape of his mouth you’re almost thankful he did not, loving the image of him left at your mercy. 

The spasming of your high around him pushes Daemon into his own release. Your nails dig into his skin as he spills himself inside of you, his head thrown back in a moan as your cunt milks his cock. 

After a moment his thrusts become shallow as his elation wears off. He smiles triumphantly, hands sliding down to your hips. His glee should fill you with shame—regretful of the sinful actions that took place upon your sister’s marriage bed but instead you feel satisfied.

Breathlessly you collapse on his chest feeling his seed leak out of you. With your head against his chest you think you should run out of the room, flee to the walls of your chambers and hide from the grotesque act you committed. But exhaustion wears on your bones rendering you unable to move. Your legs tremble, tender from the amount of pressure they endured. 

Daemon says something but you don’t catch a single utterance. 

“Mhm” you hum too tired to ask him to repeat himself. He chuckles, readjusting you both on the bed, you moan as he moves—his cock still buried inside you. 

Your eyes close inhaling Daemon, the smell of leather and musk invades your nostrils. You hate that you find it comforting, hate that you want to stay wrapped in the arms of your sister’s husband. A man that was not yours and yet allowed to defile your womanhood. 

As if Daemon could sense your storming thoughts he traces his fingers on the small of your back. His touch brings you a strange solace, tomorrow you would feel conflicted about your blossoming emotions towards your sister and her husband. Tonight you’d sleep sheltered from the storm, tomorrow you’d face the reality of your situation. 

“Are you drifting off to sleep?” Daemon's voice is almost sweet but before you could answer the chamber door opens. The sound of footsteps entering alert you to a new presence but you can’t move limbs weighing you down instead you hide in the crook of Daemon’s neck. Mortified to have been caught in the bed chambers of the future Queen and her King Consort. 

“And where did you run off too?” Daemon nonchalantly asks his fingers still tracing patterns on your skin

“Refreshments my love,” the sound of your sister’s voice comes as a surprise, you hadn’t noticed the absence of her presence. But you’re happy she’s returned, missing the warmth of her body on yours. You lift your head to see her standing at the foot of the bed, a plate full of fruits and a flagon of wine in hand. 

“Who’s insatiable now?”

[voidsentprinces]

Reminder: A Realm Reborn wasn't particularly about us. It was about the Eorzean Factions, it was about the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and their interactions with and thwarting Gaius and the XIVth Legion. We were just a useful champion slowly growing to fame but not truly a Warrior of Light until literally the prelude to the Castrum raiding mission.

The Parting of Glass wasn't about us either. It was, once again, about the world. And how it had begun changing after Gaius's fall and the brief period of peace away from Garlemald's Shadow. About Alphinaud beginning his arc of growth with hubris and the creation the Crystal Braves and what it might of looked like IF the Scion's good nature was lent to anyone and everyone. And thus opening itself up to the very corruption Minfilia feared to move away from the Waking Sands and to the Rising Stones in the first place.

Heavensward isn't about us. It is about Alphinaud's continue growth, learning of Ishgard's past and history. Hubris, arrogance and narrow viewing lead Alphinaud to steps of the Foundation, it has lead Estinien astray and made Ysayle believe she is a messiah incarnate. And through the journey, each of them grow as they learn the terrible truth about the Dragonsong War. Estinien in particular has his eyes opened and no longer simply seeks revenge on Nidhogg but to get to the bottom of it all. So no other shepherd's son has to live as he has. Ysayle learns she is a shade and a faux Shiva not truly Hraesvelgr's beloved or even in the same category as her. She learns swallow such delusions and embrace what Saint Shiva stood for in its entirety. Which means leaning to lay the road for peace between Ishgard and the Dragons and opening a path to this by sacrificing herself for those she loved so dearly. Alphinaud learns from all of this and more and is humbled by the duty of a knight, the fervor of a dragoon, the sacrifice of a saint, and the courage of his companions and of Sharlayan's arrogance from Master Matoya. To put others before himself and allow others to support him when he falls.

The Far Edge of Fate isn't about us. It was about how Ishgard carries on after Thordan and the Heavens Ward are shown to be the monsters they are. How the remnants of the church, the knights of Ishgard, and the civilian population react to the realization with rejection. How facing off against Nidhogg possessing Estinien, the Warriors of Darkness, and the machinations of Ilberd force Eorzea and Ishgard to look inward and know truly where they should go from there. To ignore the easier road and take the higher path no matter the strife and hardship it provides them. Because when they reach the otherside they would be better for it. Finding that courage, after five years of procrastinating and hemming and hawing, the Eorzean Alliance finally begin to mobilize to free Ala Mhigo from Garlemald and perhaps take on the Empire itself.

Stormblood isn't about us. It is about Doma and Ala Mhigo fighting for the survival of their people and cultures. Facing the parts of their society that were spurned and used as tools of hatred against their principles. That provided the necessary cracks required for Garlemald to break them down and oppress them in the first place. And how reforging under those values and those long histories of violence can make a new path and come to terms to over throw the tyrants who fed on their weakened states and make a strong unity still.

A Requiem of Heroes wasn't about us, it was about the world facing down the barrel of war with Garlemald. And uncovering its origins, its founding father was an Ascian. How Varis is forced to face down the lie as Elidibus wears the skin of his son and the great grandfather he and other Garleans were taught was a walking god in all but name was a sham and a daemon bent on causing more pain and suffering than mankind ever deserved. How the effigies of hate and pain choose to use their fervor to help their people instead of turning against them once more. How every person can change and be given a second chance. How that second chance is what that person requires or if they are pushed the wrong direction, can caused tragedy to unfold. And lastly, it is about our companions, slowly. One by one. Being dragged to the unknown. The story slowly taking away the players on the stage until finally...

Shadowbringers was about us. It was about how we were instrumental to the world so much that it lost nearly all hope in another timeline. How a group of your fondest friends began and how your comrade's furthest decendents acting on the hope of your legend and stories. To provide a plan of action and lead to happier world. How even when everything seems lost and gone and your purpose seems to turned everything around you into twisted monstrosities. That you can bring the night and wait in comfort for a dawn to bring better days. And the tenacity of your aid providing a world on the brink, the love, the compassion, the understanding, the strength, and the will to stand up to a flood of destruction and spit fate in the eye. Even it costs them everything, they keep fighting until they can see a brighter tomorrow.

Death unto Dawn was about what the tomorrow brings. How it could be another fight but to find what is WORTH fighting for. The memories of those you fight and lived amongst, old studies and things of the past being made to provide the answer to the future, making right wrongs even against those you had wronged unfairly, and to gather together and keep each other safe. You are not alone out here. There are those who will help you along to a brighter future.

Endwalker was about you and yours. About how everyone reacts to an uncertain future in different manners. How some would make ready to flee at the approaching storm, while others would fight, and others might even push you further to the edge. But even when all is lost, call upon the memory of happier times to light the way with hearts aligned shining brilliantly against despair and finding your place amongst those memories.

Growing Light was about us teaching another to hear, feel, and think and experience the world seemingly gone. That everything needn't be give or take. It can be a charitable, warmer place if we make it. It can be kinder and even in the face of unrelenting and undying destruction. Hope will spit out a tooth and stand up once more.

I say all of this because, I've seen people mad that Dawntrail is leaning hard about being about Wuk Lamat and others. To which I say so what if Dawntrail is about Wuk Lamat and Koana? So what if its not about us? We've had four story lines about us. Now we must impart what we've learned to the future as they face similar and sometimes overwhelming odds. To stand tall against the onslaught and make their own choices, their own way to bring a smile to all they hold dear. How family needn't be blood related, they can just be a group who sit down at the table at the end of the day. And speak, laugh, cry, and love. Unto this trail to dawn we shall light way for the future of our world and everything this new dawn brings is worth it.

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [13]

Impulse is a little back in time, simply to retrieve a thing from the most haunted city in america.

the instructions were clear, in. grab thing. out. no funny business, no anything else.

why the fuck did it had to be impulse then?! that’s never gonna- ah, whatever…

So Bart does not just do only that. He remembers to keep moving fast so he’s not seen, but well, he spotted these two white suited goofballs who looked upset with their little box contraption and somehow were missing the little unplugged wire and Bart figured, what could the harm be?

so he might have plugged the little wire in while he was there, sue him, the guys looked surprised but pleased that their little thingy was suddenly working. good job Impulse right?

he didn’t forget about it but he might have shoved it in the back trunk of his head while he went on to do his actual job which is essentially forgetting for a guy with eidetic memory.

So yeah, imagine his surprise when he gets back to where he came from and finds himself on a doomed, desolate earth with green skies and nothing but scorched rock and ruins for miles.

What he’s seeing is an earth in the aftermath of a war against the infinite realms.

So now he has to go back to the past and fix his reckless mistake. Would it be wise to maybe see if he can find a single living soul with some info on what happened to make this ordeal a little easier? maybe, but that might involve him having to explain himself which will most likely be followed by a subsequent well deserved lecture and Bart is hoping to fix this without all that because he clearly fucked up. like, it’s very obvious. and he’s feeling very bad about it, honest.

back in the past again though, he nearly collapses, he’s seriously overdoing it at this point, afterall he was supposed to be able to recuperate once he got back. 

But he has to push through, he can’t slow down, he has to find those two guys and nab their little machine that’s apparently a doomsday device or something, he doesn’t know when they will use it, or where, so slowing down now is absolutely out of the question.

“woah hey there man, are you alright?”

he’s startled into complete stillness, and then he’s just thinking about how this guy looks like a fusion between Robin and Superboy, he can picture it perfectly in his head, fully animated dragon ball fusion style.

it’s SuperRobin, real name Ton, or maybe Kim.

getting distracted, he was asked a question, better answer.

“yeahI’mfine” he wheezes, very believable stuff.

“no you’re not, do you need a hand? sick Impulse cosplay by the way”

So, yeah, Danny pesters Bart into at least eating and drinking something, he says that if the two guys, who are now identified to Bart as the guys in white also known as the GIW or the Ghost Investigation Ward… and Bart going “oh I know a ghost! she’s really great” and Danny being pleasantly surprised.

but anyway if those guys do anything he will know, cause apparently they are very loud and quite destructive. and that’s honestly no comfort to Bart cause he knows what the future is gonna look like, but also he’s about to pass out and that would be super uncool and also make him totally useless anyway so… eating and drinking first it is.

Danny is a local, which is useful cause Bart only knew the route he needed to take for his previous mission and not really anything else regarding this place. And he tells Bart that he’s screwed with the GIW before so he knows how they operate. it fucking sucks that Bart accidentally aided apparent government bad guys… the others can never find out…

Overall, working with Danny is pretty great. For a civilian the guy is very resourceful. he’s witty, smart, funny, a lot stronger than he looks, honestly maybe the SuperRobin fusion thing he thought about before has some merit… are there any hidden clone labs around? billionaires with zero morals? yes? no? maybe?

Bart simply told Danny that he needs the machine from the white suit guys for future superhero reasons. and he’s fully intending on just handing it over to Robin, hopefully while not having to explain why he has it in the first place, and see if he can figure out how it’s gonna cause the world to end so they can make sure that can never happen.

Danny says that the machine is probably just an anti ghost weapon of some kind. Bart is skeptical, because first of all, why would anyone need anti ghost weapons when magic is already a thing and works on them just fine. Like all the superhero exorcists that Bart knows use some form of magic, well he guess anti ghost weapons would be useful for the bats, but that begs the question why is the government going around trying to shoot ghosts? and why hasn’t Bart heard of this before, cause this sounds like something Robin would enjoy telling him about.

But Bart, with significant help from Danny, manages to… confiscate (steal) the machine from the white suits.

he promises Danny he’ll visit, cause they are friends now, it’s official. And he would love to introduce him to the others as well.

Once back Bart still gets lectured of course, and Tim does reveal that yeah, the box really is just some sort of ghost trapping device, and he’s keeping it.

Bart doesn’t really care, the only thing he cares about is that everything is back to normal and he even got a new friend out of the whole ordeal.

It's then that Robin brings up a new member for Young Justice who will soon be joining them, and Bart is completely confused.

Everyone else is confused at Bart’s confusion, this was already known a week ago? and Bart figures that something did change somewhere somehow anyway, that’s fine.

Kon reminds Bart of the new guy’s callsign, apparently it’s Phantom.

Bart tries to imagine what they would look like, but at the moment he can only picture Danny in a SuperRobin outfit.oh well, hopefully this just means that Bart manages to get two friends out of this whole mess.

[ko-core-o]

Lush Redux

Went back to give Lush a bit of a visual update as well, since I felt like she was my weakest Materria dragon. Mostly wanted to change the shape of her legs but also lean more towards a horror aspect. More info below!

While Twikinzy's witchcraft leans towards the alchemy side, Lush is more involved with hexes and spell-weaving! Her stitch-based magic can be used to protect and harm, enchanting her friends with wards while debilitating her enemies with curses!

Pink Thread - Inflicts Hatred

Red Thread - Inflicts Weakness

Orange Thread - Inflicts Pain

Yellow Thread - Inflicts Vulnerability

Green Thread - Inflicts Shrink

Blue Thread - Inflicts Slow

Indigo Thread - Inflicts Silence

Violet Thread - Inflicts Polymorph

Running Stitch - A basic hex stitch

Back Stitch - Applies a repetitive nature to the hex

Chain Stitch - Binds the hex to another person, place, or thing

Buttonhole Stitch - Attaches a conditional to the hex that causes it to trigger

Feather Stitch - Creates a zone around the target that applies the hex to them as well

Cross Stitch - reverses the effect of the hex

Knotted Stitch - Causes a trigger when the hex is unraveled

Laid Stitch - Actually a combination of two stitches, makes hexes harder to remove

[dunmeshistash]

Dungeon Meshi - "Dungeon Meals" from volumes 1 to 4

More info under the cut

Decided to compile the dungeon meals anyway. These are from chapter 1 to 28 (Volumes 1 to 4)

There were a total of 24 "meals" (counting the special panels) in the 28 chapters. Meal is anything that gets the named panel, so kelpie soap giant frog suit and Falin skeleton count (cause that's funny). I'm using EHScans pages because they have a better resolution usually (and for consistency)

Anyway here's the meals of each chapter and who made them.

Chapter 1 - Hot pot Meal: Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom Hot Pot Cooked by: Mostly Senshi but Laios started it.

Chapter 2 - Tart Meal: Man-Eating Plant Tart Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 3 - Roast Basilisk Meal: Roast Basilisk Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 4 - Omelet Meal: Mandrake & Basilisk Omelet Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 5 - Kakiage Meal: Mandrake Kakiage & Giant Bat Tempura Cooked by: Senshi and Chilchuck

Chapter 7 - Living Armor II Meal: Living Armor Full Course Meal, consisting of: Dwarf-Style Stir Fry, Steamed Living Armor, Living Armor Soup and Grilled Living Armor Cooked by: Senshi (Others helped with prepping)

Chapter 8 - Simmered Cabbage Meal: Vegetable Lunch, Fresh off the Golem Fields, consisting of: Simmered Whole Cabbage and Turnip Salad. Cooked by: Senshi (Others helped with prepping)

Chapter 9 - Orcs Meal: Stolen Vegetables, Simmed Cabbage & Chicken with a side of Plundered Bread Cooked by: Senshi, Marcille, Laios, Chilchuck, Zon and other Orc Ladies

Chapter 10 - Snacks Meal: All Natural♡Delicious Treasure Bug Snacks, consisting of: Treasure Bug Nest Jam, Coin Bug Crackers and Pearl Centipede Skewers Cooked by: Senshi (Laios helped by.. watching)

Chapter 11 - Sorbet Meal 1: Deluxe♪Multicultural Holy Water Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Protective Ward! Spirit Dispelling Sorbet Cooked by: Senshi and Laios

Chapter 12 - Palace Cuisine Meal: Palace Cuisine Full Course Meal, consisting of: Sautéed Fish with Soybeans, Pumpkin Soup, Fruit, Golden Wheat Bread, Golden cow Cheese and Roast Duck Cooked by: Palace Cooks? Painter? Magic?

Chapter 13 - Boiled in Salt Water Meal: Boiled Mimic Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 14 - Kelpie "Meal": Kelpie Tallow Soap Cooked by: Marcille

Chapter 15 - Porridge Meal: Zosui Made from Dropped Barley Cooked by: Laios

Chapter 16 - Broiled with Sauce Meal: Giant Parasite from Giant Kraken: Grilled Plain and Kabayaki Style Cooked by: Senshi (Laios Helped with prepping the skewers and ate one raw and suffered)

Chapter 18 - Grilled Meat Meal: Grilled Kelpie Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 19 - Tentacles "Meal": Tentacles With Vinegar Dressing Cooked by: Namari (with Laios instructions)

Chapter 20 - Stew Meal: Tentacle & Kelpie Stewed in an Undine Cooked by: Marcille (With Senshi's help)

Chapter 21 - Giant Frogs Meal 1: Tentacle Gnocchi Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Frog Suit Cooked by: Laios and Chilchuck

Chapter 23 - Red Dragon I Meal: Let's Cutlet the Dragon to Pieces! Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 27 - Red Dragon V "Meal": Falin & Warg Skelletons Cooked by: Laios & Marcille (Red Dragon helped clean up the bones really well)

Chapter 28 - Red Dragon VI Meals: Roast Red Dragon, Pizza Bread with Onions and Dragontail Soup Cooked by: Senshi

The chapters that had no "meal is done" panel were chapters

6 - Living Armor I

17 - Raspberries

22 - Above Ground

24 - Red Dragon II

25 - Red Dragon III

26 - Red Dragon IV

Mostly the multipart chapters, there was food eaten in 17 and 22 but no special panel for them, 17 is the titular raspberries and 22 the barmaids serve them a meal they eat right at the end

The chapter with more than one "meal" panels (not more than one meal prepared just more than one special panel for the meals) were:

11 - Sorbet with Holy Water and Sorbet

21 - Giant Frog with Gnocchi and Frog Suit

And the party stats are:

Senshi: 17 meals cooked, all of them food

Chilchuck: 3 "meals" cooked, 2 of them were food, 1 of them was a Frog Suit

Marcille: 4 "meals" cooked, 2 of them were food, 1 of them was soap and 1 of them was Falin skeleton reconstruction. She made the soap by herself and the stew mostly by herself

Laios: 5 "meals" cooked , 3 of them were food, 1 of them was a frog suit and 1 was Falin skeleton reconstruction. He also helped with 4 other meals (kinda) and 1 of them he made by himself (The zosui)

Out of the 24 meals in these 4 volumes, 21 were food and 3 were "other"

Out the 21 food meals Senshi made 17 of them, Laios made 1 Marcille made 1 and the other 2 was Namari and Living Painting Cooks.

I often get confused with numbers so if I said anything wrong feel free to correct me! Might do less volumes for the next post we'll see

[cairavende]

Fiiiiiine, I guess I might have one or two other thoughts:

I didn't expect 4 chapters inside a prison cell/interrogation room, but of the things I didn't expect in this arc that's one of the lesser

Quinn Calle (sorry - Quinn Calle, Esquire) is a perfect cinnamon roll who is too good for this world. I would die for him.

And he is also a very good lawyer!

I love Dinah just full blown taking control of her situation, and that her parents support her!

Tagg is being a fucking giant asshole to her and she and her parents present a united "Fuck off!"

Like - "You want answers, Director? Fine. Twenty two point eight one three percent chance you die painfully, over long, slow minutes or hours. Maybe soon, maybe in twenty years, but it’ll bring you to tears, and you’ll wail in pain. That’s a freebie. Want more details?" GOD FUCKING DAMN! DINAH DON'T TAKE NO SHIT!

(Also like, by the end of the arc this prediction is a lot more meaningful)

And the scene when they realize Skitter (shush, she's still Skitter at that point) can hear them? Absolutely amazing. Just the entire building of bugs saying "Yes" all at once in response to Tagg saying "So, you can hear me." So fucking cool.

Danny gets a chance to redeem himself and he starts our quite rough, not really giving his daughter the support he should be. But after a bit he starts to stand up for her to Tagg, so I guess I can give him partial credit on this.

Sure you are just learning some of the things your daughter has done, but you shouldn't be trusting what the cops are saying so easily!

And as for Alexandria . . . well I could spend a lot of bullet points talking about how terrible she was being and how it doesn't matter how noble her end goals might be, her actions were evil, and so on.

Or I could just say GUESS WHAT ALEXANDRIA? CAN'T BREATH SPIDERS!

YOU WERE FUCKED THE MOMENT SKITTER THOUGHT YOU HAD KILLED RACHEL! DON'T FUCK WITH WOLFSPIDER!

There is very little more dangerous then the power of gay wrath.

Is it good that Skitter killed Alexandria? I dunno. Is it badass? Yes.

Also get fucked Tagg, you were one of the worst people I've met in this book and the world is probably a better place without you in it.

I personally wasn't worried about Brian or Rachel being dead, the fact that we specifically didn't "see" the body (cause it was in a body bag the entire time) made it pretty clear that it probably wasn't them.

"Stop trying things!" has got to be one of the best lines in the book.

I'm not sure which is more upsetting in the end, that my daughter is going to be a cop or that "Definitely Not Armsmaster" is probably going to end up being her fucking mentor!

God I hate that man so much and he's making it harder to justify my hate because he's becoming a better person and WOULD YOU KINDLY JUST KEEP BEING A DICK SO I CAN BE JUSTIFIED IN HATING YOU?? FUCK!

I do love the shit out of the fact that my Robot Daughter is basically filling the mother role for my Bug Daughter. They both needed someone.

I wouldn't be happy that Alexandria is getting her actions excused with "Simmy did it", except that just means they are talking up Simmy and I can't be mad about someone talking up the sexiest character in the book!

Anyway, I love my bug daughter very much. She can obviously use whatever name she wants, Weaver is fine. I just wish she wasn't working for the cops.

THE DOGS HOWLING DURING HER SPEECH! 😭😭😭😭😭😭

SAD GAY NOISES 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭��😭

Charlotte interlude thoughts:

Burly Henchman Number 1 (Forrest) is ready to switch to Burly Sidekick Number 1 in a heartbeat. That man trusts Taylor, no matter what name or costume she is wearing.

Danny shows up and is just . . . Danny. But Charlotte had my back! Every single time he said something that made me want to rip my hair out she was right there to call him out!

Danny coming in with "Kids are hard" and Charlotte correcting him with "People are hard to deal with" was perfection. Best possible response! It acknowledges that kids are just people and need to be treated as such, and it adds "to deal with" which changes the tone to be saying negative things about the situation, not the child.

Forrest learned who Danny was and within a few seconds was out-dadding the SHIT out of him.

"You are having trouble with your one child? That sucks, excuse me while I take care of this pile of children right here and do it in a positive way."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PUPPY THERAPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😍😍😍😍😍😍

Look at Rachel's growth! SHE IS SO SAD AND YET SHE IS STILL HELPING OTHER PEOPLE BY LETTING THEM PLAY WITH PUPPIES!!!!!!!

Well hopefully Charlotte is correct that the kid doesn't have super powers, cause I don't want to know what kind of super powers a 5 year old who triggered during a night terror would be.

I'm sure there isn't anything else to worry about!

Lung interlude thoughts:

I'm so happy I finally get to see Contessa fight! It pretty much looked exactly how I expected it to look and I love it!! She works for the bad guys, but I still love her.

Lung's whole ... thing sure gives new meaning to "chasing the dragon".

Sure would suck to be anything that isn't an Endbringer and having to fight 30 foot tall dragon Lung.

I learned more about the C.U.I. and yet still know nothing

Holy FUCK! Teacher is doing some fae ass shit. "I give people a boon that allows them to think better or create better, but at a cost of some of their soul" is basically what he said. That's a fae. That's just a fae trap.

And motherfucking Saint the piece of shit! I hate that man so much. HE FUCKED WITH ROBOT DAUGHTER! The fact that Teacher is working with him only makes everything worse.

ALSO WHAT WAS AMY SAYING??? AHHHHHH I WANNA KNOW!

Like sure I think I've got a decent prediction of a good chunk of things, including a lot of the stuff Amy knows, but not everything Amy knows! And everyone was just talking around it without actually saying it all chapter and AAAAAAAA!!!!!!

Worm Arc 22 thoughts:

. . . . . WELL OKAY THEN

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha FINALLY STARTING WITH YOUR REQUESTS!! :D

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 (You're here) , PART 17

In "The Dragon's Call"

Uther talking with Arthur in the throne room.

Uther: (warnly) Who is he?

Arthur: (mad and anxious cause Merlin was stabbed and he's not there with him) You called me all the way here just for that? He's Gaius' appreantice. He told you that!

Uther: Don't take me for a fool, Arthur. I'm asking who is he TO YOU. (looks at Arthur, sternly) It's obvious that you knew him from before.

Arthur: (thinking) Shit... (says) We... met just 3 days ago.

Uther: (increasenly raises his voice in anger) And you expect me to believe that you made such a tremendous display just for some peasant man that you've known for 3 days?!

Arthur: That 'peasant man' just saved my life!

Uther: For which I'm greatful... but also suspicious.

Arthur: What?!

Uther: He took a knife for you, shielded you with his body... and called you by your name. Yet you insist you've only known each other for 3 days. (pauses dramatically) I'll ask again. What is that man to you?

Arthur: (sweats)

Gaius: (enters) You called for me, your Majesty?

Arthur: (surprised) Gaius! What are you doing here? You should be attending Merlin!

Uther: (sarcastic) Oh, you know his name too. What a surprise.

Gaius: (Looking at Uther, but reassuring Arthur) The boy is stable. The blade didn't puncture anything vital, but it was poisoned. I managed to extract the poison thought, so he is out of danger now.

Uther: You told me you recently hired this boy as your apprentice, right Gaius?

Gaius: Yes, sire.

Uther: How long has he been in The Citadel?

Gaius: Just a few days, sire.

Uther: Are you sure?

Gaius: Yes, he just arrived 3 days ago.

Uther: And he has never been in The Citadel before.

Gaius: Oh, no sire. Merlin is from Ealdor, an Essetir village located on the border. He's never been in Camelot before.

Arthur: (smiles smuggly) See?

Uther: (still not convinced but lets the matter be for now) You shouldn't act so distrough about strangers, Arthur. I expect better composure from you in the future.

Arthur: (hangs his head in a shame he doesn't feel) Yes, father.

Uther: (to Gaius) Your ward deserves a reward for his heroic act today.

Arthur: (thinking) Finally!

Uther: I'll give him 20 pieces of gold.

Arthur: (thinking) What?! (says) No! You can't reward him with that.

Uther: You think it's too much?

Arthur: Too little! He saved your son! Your heir to the throne! Or do you really think that my life it's worth just 20 pieces of gold?

Uther: (thoughful) I guess you have a point. How do you think I should reward him then?

Arthur: Status. Gold is precious but it ends eventually. Status is forever.

Uther: You want me to lord him? I can't do that. He's a peasant.

Arthur: But you can give him a position, maybe? In the royal household?

Uther: Hmm... It's not a bad idea. I'll have to check if there's an avaible position-

Arthur: (quickly) There's one!

Uther: (surprised) Really?

Arthur: (smiling) Well... I still need a personal manservant.

Uther: ...

Gaius: ...

Time skip. Uther talking to a servant.

Uther: (incredulous) He really did that?

Servant: (who had to confess under pressure) Yes, sire. The prince paid me to act as a victim while he pretended to bully me.

Uther: With what purpose?

Servant: (nervous) I... I don't know, sire. He didn't tell me, sire.

Uther: But you have a guess.

Servant: ...

Uther: You can speak freely. Nothing will be hold against you.

Servant: Well... my guess is that... the prince wanted to... get his now personal manservant's attention, sire. The prince stopped 'bullying' me when he arrived and defended me.

Uther: I've heard. He also let the boy go unharmed after he insulted him. After calling him... What did he call my son again?

Servant: A... prat... and an... ass, sire.

Uther: I see... (sighs) You're dismissed.

Servant: (between surprised and relieved) Really? I'm not in trouble, sire?

Uther: No, you aren't.

Servant: And I don't have to give the gold back?

Uther: (opens his eye wide) He gave you gold?!

Time skip. After the events of "The Mark of Nimueh"

Uther watches the knights coming back from a trip all cover in leaves and mud at night.

Uther: Where do you come from so late? (looks at them up and down) And so dirty.

Leon: Ahm... The prince entrusted us with an important mission-

Knight 1: (exhausted) We're looking for a flower.

Leon: (hits him)

Uther: A... flower?

Knight 2: A purple lily, sire.

Uther: Is it a lily with healing properties? A magic plant that endangers my citizens?

Leon: Ehm... no, just a regular purple lily, sire.

Uther: So my son order you to search for a purple lily in the middle of the night.

Knight 1: And he's still searching for one too as we speak.

Leon: (hits him again)

Uther: May I know why?

Knight 2: I think he wants to gift the flower to-

Leon: To a woman! We think he wants to gift a flower to a woman, sire. Though it's just a guess.

Uther: Right... (thinking) What a fussy woman. (says) He could have sent the flower to be painted if he needed a purple one that much.

Leon: He insisted it had to be naturally purple, sire.

Uther: Painting a lily purple is a luxury only royal can afford. I'm sure the girl would still appreciate it.

Knight 1: We told his highness that.

Knight 2: But he still insisted it had to be naturally purple, sire.

Uther: (thinking) I very fussy woman indeed. (says) I'm going to talk with him. This is ridiculous. There's a reason why we prefer to paint lilies purple. It's nearly impossible to find one that is naturally purple. He is never going to find-

Arthur: (entering, all cover in mud and leaves and with a purple lily in an improvised container in hand, very excited) I found it! Leon I... (stops himself when he sees Uther and composes himself) Good evening, father. (bows)

Uther: (explodes at seeing his son's embarrassing appearence) That woman is too fussy, she's making you act like a fool! Is not like she is your fiancée. If for her vagary of wanting a naturally purple flower you stoop to acting slavishly like a servant then Camelot is doomed! You are the prince! How can you give this image? have dignity! What kind of ignorant, uneducated, vulgar woman are you involving yourself with?!

Knight 1: (confused) I thought the flower was for his manser-

Leon: (covers the knight's mouth)

Arthur: (to the knight, seriously considering making him kill number 2) Innprudance*!

Uther: (his right eye ticing)... What?

Arthur: (thinking, kind of concerned) Has he always had a tic in his eye?

Time skip. After Lancelot's imprisonment.

Uther scolding Arthur in his chambers.

Uther: (furious) You imprisoned a man just because he touched your manservant?

Arthur: No, I imprisoned him because he was found in suspicious circunstances.

Uther: What suspicious circunstances?

Arthur: The part of the woods we found him in was burned! There was still spots of fire there and a big hole in the ground! The earth was shaking just before we encountered him, that's clearly sorcery! He could be in alliance with Nimueh for all we know!

Uther: (incredulous) Right... and it had nothing to do with the fact he was caring your servant in his arms when you arrived.

Arthur: Of course not! Do you really believe me that unreasonable?

Uther: Yes! You know why? Because everyone seems to believe that! Since you came back from your search of Nimueh, the whole castle doesn't stop talking about how you got a man arrested because he dare to touch your manservant!

Arthur: Well, it's not true.

Uther: Fine, if you're so sure he did sorcery, I'll prepare his execution inmediatly.

Arthur: I never said I was sure, just that I found him in-

Uther: Suspicious circunstances, I know.

Arthur: Like I said, I'm not unreasonable. I can't execute him for sorcery without solid prove.

Uther: But you're not going to free him either.

Arthur: Because of the suspicious circunstances.

Uther: So you're just... going to keep him in there.

Arthur: Yeah.

Uther: ...

Arthur: ...

Uther: I'm too old for this. (leaves)

Time skip. After Merlin moved in to Arthur's antechambers.

Uther being attended by Gaius in his chambers.

Gaius: (mixing a concoction in the king's tea) This should help you with your nerves, Sire. I don't know what to do about the tic in your eye though. I would recommend you to rest more.

Uther: How could I? I'm the king! I have a lot of duties to do!

Gaius: You could delegate some of your duties to prince Arthur-

Uther: Arthur! He's the reason I'm like this! Him and his greedy manservant! No offense, Gaius.

Gaius: None taken, sire. And I can assure you Merlin is nothing like that. He's just an innocent country boy. I think he's not even aware of the prince's affections for him yet.

Uther: That's what he's making everyone believe! But it's all an act, I can see it! He used his seductive arts to have my son in the palm of his hand!

Gaius: (puts the cup of tea in the king's hand) Whatever you say, sire. Your tea.

Servant: (Knocks door from outside)

Uther: Come in. (takes sip of his tea)

Servant: Your Majesty, (Bows) You asked to keep you informed of... uhm.. any important change related to the prince and his manservant.

Uther: (sighs and take another sip) What did he do this time?

Servant: The prince asked his manservant to move to his antechambers, sire.

Uther: (relieved) Oh... That's not so bad.

Gaius: (cheering Uther up) Is not bad at all! As his personal manservant he should have moved there from the start. I'm surprised the prince didn't ask him to move before.

Servant: (sweating, nervous) Yeah...

Uther: (sighs) There's more, isn't it?

Servant: Uhm... well... there are rumors, sire...that says that..ahm...

Uther: (demands) What?

Servant: The reason the prince asked his servant to move was because he brought another man to his room, sire.

Uther: (breaks the cup of tea in his hand)

Gaius: (sighs, to the servant, calmly) Bring me another cup and some bandages, please.

Servant: (bows and leaves)

Uther: Gaius.

Gaius: Yes, sire?

Uther: You have brought a seductive demon to the castle.

...

Uther finding out about arthur's weird obsession with merlin ☑︎

*Innprudance is the actual name of the Knight just so you know. And it fits him perfectly.

Credits to my best friend Rosangela, who helped me with some dialogues and situations, no only in this part, but several ones. Love you so much! ❤️

[vanilleandclove]

the meadow in which you lay | 4

ser erryk cargyll x arryn!reader | chapter four: to ward and protect

As the news of Viserys's death rings through the realm, you quickly take arms to aide your cousin and be her greatest asset as she has fully begun her labors. Making way to King's Landing as quickly as you could, taking the connecting road from Dragonstone rather than sailing.

word count: 1.5k | warnings: conversations of religion and faith, descriptions of a high-risk birth. erryk jinxes his own death... | a/n: i changed how rhaenyra finds out the death of viserys and how her birthing sequence was! everything is in fact, intentional. this part is shorter than the others (filler lol). happy hotd day!

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"The life of King Viserys was taken brother" you spat, your hand gripping your hair under stress, the night was dark and only the livestock were filling the gaps in silence, "He was murdered by the Hightower's as they drunken him with milk of the poppy, Rhaenyra, Daemon and I- we all saw it".

"I am only sharing the news for you to make arrangements with our cousin, they plan to anoint Aegon as King to the Iron Throne" your brother gripped your upper arm, "We will rally support for our cousin's claim just as she is our kin, but she needs your support at court. You and I both know of Daemon's temper, Rhaenyra may not want a war immediately, but he will" he continued, "You may also seek comfort with… Erryk" your brother lightly teased.

It took a near several days, few days too long, to reach Dragonstone, just as Rhaenyra began her labors, you had reached Dragonstone. The halls filled with your cousins screams, your brother demanding the knights to find Daemon, you searched the halls to find Jace and Luke, only to find them sparring on the beach.

"The Lady Y/n Arryn!" the knights announced in sync, causing the boys to shift their attention rather quickly, smiles donning on the princes' faces only to be diminished as they noticed the somber look on your face.

"Your mother is in labor dear boys!" you shouted, "She will need your support".

As the boys sprinted to flee the beach and return back to the keep, you saw the look of concern reach both the children's faces, you quickly followed just behind the two before reaching Rhaenyra's chambers; her groans of pain filling the walls of the room, bouncing off the stones. You left the boys to their mother before Rhaenyra called you into the room.

"I will set voyage to King's Landing Rhaenyra" you told her immediately, "They surely taken Rhaenys as prisoner, perhaps I can free her". Your cousin gripped your hand like a vice, before nodding at your words, seeing the sheer and unrelenting agony your cousin was facing. "I can wait until the end of your labors" you spoke with concern, staring into her eyes and rubbing her back.

She shook her head before dismissing you. You immediately reached your horse before setting voyage for King's Landing, not caring how sore the inner parts of your thighs were or how exhausted you were, your cousin needed you. Taking from the look of her face and the absence of Daemon in her chambers as she was birthing.

You rather wished to have a dragon to set this voyage, but your horse, a beautiful, white steed was enough. You had sharpened your sword before setting off to Dragonstone with your brother, though not having to brandish it, you would rather be safe than sorry.

Taking two-night falls to reach King's Landing, promptly being met with the acts of whores and drunks running rapid in the streets of silk. You knew the sneakier spots of the Red Keep, ones where guards do not patrol, but you had to change your attire to your undergarments as they were rather less formal. As you avoided the guards easily before being met with silver directly to your face.

You cursed your lack of plan before realizing who you ran into, Erryk. His hand quickly coming to your mouth to stop you from yelping, scurrying you both off into a quarter, locking the door just behind you to prevent unwanted visitors. You searched his eyes as you knew them to be ravaged with concern and guilt, as he rested his forehead on yours, your heart thumping in your chest.

"You could have gotten yourself killed my Lady" Erryk's lip quivered before resting a hand on your waist, you faintly sobbed before grabbing a hold of the knight's face, "How did you-?".

"Do not worry about it" you answered, kissing the knight deeply, "I must find Princess Rhaenys, I was hoping I'd find you under different circumstances".

"Alicent has imprisoned her in her quarters and has kept Meleys in the Dragon Pit" Erryk faltered, "I cannot reach her just yet, Criston has been guarding her door heavily".

"We both know how piss poor Criston is at his job" you chuckled, "Tomorrow is Aegon's coronation, Criston will be occupied. If you need aide to take down the guard after him, I will gladly help my love".

He laughed, looking deeply into your irises, wishing to love you more than just by words and soulful feelings, kissing your lips once more. "I missed you my Lady" placing another kiss on your lips, this time filled with the wanton need for your own soul, how beautiful your light whimpers were. Your kisses were halted by the noises of the maidens and maesters roaming the halls, your foreheads touching once more.

"We cannot, not now at least" you began, "Let us just lay together Erryk, come morning we will have Rhaenys and Meleys. I know of your hatred to the usurper and his kin, swearing fealty to Rhaenyra is an oath you may choose if you wish. I will swear to aide my cousin in this battle for the throne no matter your position".

"I love you" he whispered, "I will follow the true heir, Queen Rhaenyra. I swore an oath, I plan to keep it" he continued, before kissing you once more. You often wondered how many sins you have committed under the eyes of the Seven, granted you never expressed such emphasis in creed, though you honored the ones who did for they had a better purpose to live than you did.

"Do you believe in fate?" you questioned the knight as there was a silent pause between the two of you, "That everything happens for a reason rather than that of nature's design?".

"I believe we all have set paths that our experiences guide us to" Erryk answered, "But some things are of nature's design. I could die on the hour, but I can also die in a fortnight from today, or when I am old and spent".

You would hope to whatever deity that was looking over your conversation that his death would be one of peace, when he is in fact old and frail, not when he has years of wisdom and love ahead of him. You could only hope, what such a dangerous concept to leave in the hands of stranger you never once knew. You did envy Alicent of one thing, her gods excused her treachery, only wishing the Seven could have blessed you when it came to who you found yourself in love with.

Come the hour of the wolf, all murmurs of the streets simmered, the only noise that filled your ears was that of Erryk's soft huffs and heartbeat as your head laid on his chest. Erryk's calloused hand found purchase in your hair as he slept; whereas you found yourself restless, perhaps a symptom of anxiousness that riddled your bones so much that it penetrated into your soul.

What dark games the life you held in your hands played, wishing for your burdens to be released. Not wishing to wake the knight that laid under your body, how the long hours of being a part of the Kingsguard must have also burdened him greatly. You too would be deeply trammeled if you had to guard the secrets of Aegon, depravity and all. Venturing on into your mind, you wondered how your cousin was holding up in the wake of her labors.

The morning came as quick as the night, the faint pain that pounding in your head was a nuisance, but you had duties to proceed to. As you helped Erryk dress into his armor, you caught glimpses of cuts and scars that littered his back, noticing the definition of the muscle in his arms.

"May you?" Erryk held the white cloak in his hands, a reminder of the oaths he took. You nodded, though his back to you inhibited him from seeing. You clipped the cloak into his armor, careful not to pinch his skin.

You may not believe in fate, but you do believe it was written in the constellations that you were bound to meet the knight of your dreams.