#drawing for myself only from time to time feels good

[prettybiching]

Helloooooooo my love. First of all, happy new year! (although it's coming a week late, sorry about that) I hope this year is filled with love and joy for you!!

Secondly, piggybacking off your last reblog, yes desi weddings are so elaborate ahhh!!! I loved the whole experience despite how exhausting and stressful it was as the sister of the bride. there's pre-wedding events, a week long wedding and then the post-wedding events so yeah nearly two months of dedicated wedding festivities lmfao but it was SOOO fun and I'm moving overseas in a few weeks so I definitely had a winter for the books.

NOWWWWWWW, I'm going to be honest, I couldn't help myself and I gave myself some sneak peeks from all the chapters uploaded because every time I get the notification I get SO excited and lemme just say - YOU COOKED AND I HAVE MASSIVE THOUGHTS

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

Oh god, breaking my heart already. Daemon, I can't stand you at times ughhhhhh. What will it take for my poor girl to not have to beg for someone to love her and be considerate to her.

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

This is either going to end horribly or wonderfully and I don't know how to feel about either.

...while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

GIRL NO!!!!!!!!!

PLEASE STOP TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF EVERY OTHER CHAPTER FOR THE SAKE OF MY WELLBEING

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

And there goes my heart again...I'm so mad at Daemon and the chapter has only just begun. I can't get over just how scared she is of telling Daemon about the baby because he will probably accuse her of incest (which would be so fucking ironic HAH) even though deep down he knows she never did any of that he's just emotionally constipated AS HELL. Even Caraxes is going to be done with his ass

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Alexa play "I Think He Knows" by Taylor Swift

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

😭😭😭 STOPPPPP PLEASE SPARE ME

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

Help, I know this is a deeply serious moment but I can't help but laugh at the fact that Arryk whipped out his sword to defend himself against CARAXES

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

OH MY GOD CARAXES CAN SENSE DAEMONS BABY IN HER TUMMY WE'VE GOT MEDIEVAL DNA TEST SOMEBODY GET DAEMON HERE

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

caraxes and reader's bestie arc better start NOW

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Oh my god Arryk stop tattling on my boy Caraxes like that. He was just trying to show some affection and protectiveness!!! It's not his fault that years of bonding with daemon also turned him a little dense and emotionally constipated like his master

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

The way I 100% believe that the foundation of the brothers' relationship is that daemon will ALWAYS do the exact opposite of viserys tells him so the fact that he told daemon to return to his lady wife, it will lead him to run as far away from her as possible (aka stepstones)

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

THIS SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO CRADLE MY HEAD IN MY HANDS AND WEEP BECAUSE WHAT THEY COULDVE BEEN IF DAEMON WASNT SO DENSE AND THICK AND STUPID AND UGHHHHHHH

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

you're so stupid

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

Daemon "I can never comprehend someone being genuinely concerned for me because I never had a mother, I don't remember my father's love and my brother was an even bigger emotionally constipated idiot who can't show me love so I'm going to mistake your love for you doubting my capabilities" targaryen

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

This is so tragic I've started crying again...

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS FUCKER TO RECEIVE THERAPY FROM BRAAVOS OR WHATEVER BECAUSE HIS UNRESOLVED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA AND THE LACK OF PARENTAL LOVE HE RECEIVED IS GOING TO DESTROY THE MC AND I CANNOT STAND FOR IT I WILL DIE

"because I love you."

and im dead. im gone.

"you are mistaken."

"I love you" "It'll pass"

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

FUCK YOU FUCK THE WHOLE TSRGARYEN DYNASTY YOU FILTHY LYING WHORE OF A DRAGON RIDER GO FUCK MYSARIA IN A WIG AND CALL OUT YOUR WIFES NAME AND TELL HER YOU WANT HER BECAUSE YOURE TOO SCARED TO SAY IT TO YOUR WIFE AND GO TO THE SHITTY STEPSTONES SURROUNDED BY NOTHING BUT UGLY LOOKING PIRATES FOR THREE WHOLE YEARS WITH SHITTY FOOD AND SHITTY WINE KJHGRRYVHBEBN LTLV

You nod, "I know."

Author, did you reach inside my brain and find the worst ways to hurt me? BECAUSE THIS HURTS OKAY

BUT IT ALSO FEELS SO GOOD??? WHYS THE ANGST YOU WRITE SO FUCKING GOOD??? IM IN LITERAL TEARS OVER THESE TWO, THE WAY DAEMON MADE HER BEG FOR HIM TO STAY AND IT WAS STILL NOT ENOUGH THE PARALLELS OF HER SAYING IT NEVER SERVES HER WELL ASKING SOMEONE TO STAY

If you're wondering how I'm doing at the end of this, then imagine this - IM IN TEARS and contemplating my existence. But I cannot atop praising you for how GOOD this chapter was. It hit right the spot. Thank youuuuu for yet another masterpiece <3

Tormented Spirit | 10

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS ITS STILL TOO FUCKING LONG I HAD TO CUT IT AGAIN T_T blah blah canon stuff/high valyrian inaccurate blah. please please leave comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Daemon does not come home to you that night. When you awaken, you feel sick to your stomach. The thought of food repulsive though, so you spend the morning looking for your husband, until your body betrays you and feels sick because of not having eaten. You realize that your state is not borne simply from worrying about the prince, but probably also because of this supposed life you carried within you.

You try to deny it though, chalking it up to your mind playing tricks on you. After all, it's laughable that you suddenly experienced these symptoms just after all the fuss of learning you were with child.

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

You'd never been so happy to see the blood wyrm.

"Daemon?" you call out, searching for him.

Caraxes is busy feasting on meat and Arryk is busy watching him, body tense and senses on high alert.

The dragon keeper comes to you, shaking his head, "se dārilaros iksis daor kesīr dombo." The prince is not here anymore.

You understood nothing, save dārilaros, which you knew meant prince, and figure he's probably telling you he is not here, which you could gather from simple observation.

You turn to Caraxes and point, "zaldrīzes." Dragon.

The man brightens, as he understands, "Caraxes."

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head and hands.

You clench your jaw and turn to Caraxes, nodding your head in understanding.

The dragon keeper relaxes.

He mistakes you.

"Arryk," you turn to your ward, "can you come here please?"

Arryk's eyes linger on the dragon a moment before turning to you. You settle him in front of the dragon keeper, and while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

The dragon notices you immediately and watches you near. He lifts his head and sniffs the air, and only then do the two men realize what's happening.

"PRINCESS!" Arryk shouts, sprinting towards you before coming to an abrupt stop.

Enraged, Caraxes cranes his long neck, roaring at Arryk, making him topple back on his bum.

The dragon keeper screams a command and raises his hands.

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

The red creature screeches as snaps his teeth at the two men, causing his keeper to step back and Arryk to crawl back with him.

Caraxes then averts his attention, shaking his head as he circles around you, effectively blocking the two from seeing anything other than his massive, scaly body.

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Your face contorts at the bleating sound it makes. He lowers his head slightly inhaling and exhaling deeply. He makes another noise and you swear to yourself, the creature looks like he's fidgeting.

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

Caraxes screams loudly again when he spots two other dragon keepers come to you from the other side. He threatens them with a snap of his teeth.

"Daor!" they scream in unison. No.

Caraxes seethes and screeches, as if saying, 'do not tell me what to do'.

He circles around you again, and this time, he shoves you forward with his wing. You yelp as you are knocked to the ground with a thud. You manage to brace yourself, grazing your hands as you did, but your chest still hurts at the impact.

The keepers scream in horror because of this, fearing that you would soon be eaten.

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

You whine as you roll on your side. Caraxes growls as he bites your arm. The fear finally sets in as he does this, and his powerful maw pulls you up to sitting position.

The dragon keeper, who ran to retrieve you, shrieks out upon witnessing this.

You gasp when Caraxes roars back, and you squeal when his wing comes over you. The strangest thing occurs to you in that moment, and your heart finally begins to race— not because it sinks in how much danger you were in, but because, suddenly, you knew you were not.

You come to a stand, and with no regard for your safety, you reach out for the dragon's skin, somehow shocked by how warm and hard it is. "Caraxes."

He hears you, though you barely raised your voice. He is sensitive to the sound of his name. Caraxes moves back, pulling away enough to be able to coil his neck and look at you.

The dragon keepers, who were so on edge, altogether fall silent when they see you in the midst of the blood wrym.

Arryk nearly broke into a other sprint upon finally seeing you, but he manages to hold back and lowers his sword, unwilling to sheathe it.

Caraxes produces a sound you think is akin to a mewl, as much as a mewl a ten foot beast could make. You huff and feel your breath hitch. You close your eyes and reach out to him, ready to accept whichever fate awaits you, companionship or death.

You gasp, eyes instantly opening when you feel the wetness on your hands. Caraxes presses his snout to your palms, and you squeak, quickly pulling back at the heat of his huff.

He lifts his head and begins to pace around again. You are certain now that the beast was, in fact, restless.

"Paez ilagon!" you exclaim, raising your hands at him.

Caraxes huffs, debating if he should heed your command.

"Paez ilagon," slow down, you repeat as the dragon fully faces you.

You, and everyone else who witnesses it, are shocked that Caraxes listens. He quits his pacing and slowly comes to a halt, looming over you.

Your lips wobble, humbled by the idea such a fearsome creature would obey the commands of such a pathetic being. You begin to weep, as Caraxes lowers his head, sniffing you. Your hands dart out to him when he gets too close. You slightly topple when he nudges you with his snout. You feel the warmth of his breath seeping through your dress as he brushes against you. You can tell he is trying his best to be gentle, but even then he is too strong that you have to repel him. He makes the faintest of sounds.

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

Caraxes remains pressed against you a moment longer.

You sniffle and momentarily fantasize about the child growing within you. You lean into him in defeat, "you silly thing."

His throat emits a low rumble.

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

Caraxes slowly lowers his head until he is laid on the floor. You remain leaned on him for a moment, and then you pull away with a sigh. You look upon the dragon, thinking he is so much like his rider, and stroke his cheek one last time before pulling away.

You walk towards the dragon keeper you had blindsided and lower your head in shame, speaking the word you had learned for Daemon, "usōvegon." Apologies.

He stares at you for a moment, taking in your now messy hair and dirtied face, and replies with something you do not understand.

You nod at him without meeting his eyes then hurriedly walk off. Arryk is quick to follow after you, and his skidding makes Caraxes screech at him. He flinches at the sound, looking behind him warily. You do not.

When Arryk finally catches up to you, he takes your arm and calls out your name. He is alarmed by the red smeared down your philtrum and cheek.

"Forgive me," you mutter, unable to meet his gaze. You do not stop walking, "I- I was overcome... I did not think of anything but myself. I did not mean to cause anyone such immense distress."

"What were you trying to do?" Arryk quips, taking in your dirtied face. He did not know if it would be appropriate to wipe it with his cloak.

You shake your head, still unable to look at him.

"Princess," Arryk speaks like a plea, "did you know Caraxes would not hurt you?"

You gulp, quickening you pace.

Arryk huffs in frustration, calling out your name.

He forces you to stop by dashing forward, coming in front of you. You look up at him, eyes teary and mouth parted.

"I beg you," he clenches his fists, before succumbing to his urges. He grabs his cloak and wipes your face, brushing the dirt and blood as neatly as he can, "please tell me you did not knowingly put yourself in danger."

The tears running down your face help him clean you off. You honestly say, "I don't know if I should tell you."

Arryk is heart broken. He clenches his jaw tightly and releases his hold on you. He steps aside and you begin walking again.

You feel awful as you look at him. He is sullen as he walks beside you. You wipe your nose on your sleeve, "apologies, Arryk."

He shakes his head and opens his mouth. His jaw hangs for a moment, but then he closes his mouth, saying nothing.

You turn to your side when you hear your name called.

Alicent, who was making her way to the king's quarters, runs up you, eyes widening at the blood on your face. The red had spread as it mixed with your tears. She quickly pulls out her handkerchief, "your nose is bleeding!"

Your eyes widen, as you did not know this, but you quickly take her wrist and slowly pull away, "it is nothing."

"What happened to her, ser?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk is eager to tattle, "she was at the dragon pit and-"

"I fell," you cut him off, blocking your sister's gaze upon your ward, "I-"

"You fell in the dragon pit?!" she bristles further. Your feigning backfired. "What did Daemon do?!"

"The prince is nowhere to be seen," Arryk scoffs.

"I was- am looking for him!" you blurt

"Caraxes nearly attacked her," Arryk adds.

"Arryk!" you whip your head to him then back to your sister, "he did not!"

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Alicent calls your name as you call Arryk's.

Your sister takes your shoulders, eyes immediately watering, "did you want to get hurt, sister?"

Your jaw slacks, "I- I-"

"Does Daemon posses you to do such things?" your baby sister begins to cry.

You shake your head rapidly, "no! No. I swear to you, this has nothing to do with him."

"Then what?" Alicent asks with a broken voice.

You gasp for air and feel a shiver run down your spine. You cannot tell her the truth, so you explain instead, "my nose already bled yesterday, which is why it's bleeding now."

"What?!"

"I already fainted yesterday and fell quite hard, which is why my nose is bleeding again."

"Mother, please," Alicent whispers.

"Alicent, I swear to you, you need not-"

"How could you let this happen to her twice?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk lowers his head, "I have failed-"

"I snuck behind him," you blurt, "do not fault him for my impulsiveness."

Alicent's heart is crush as she watches you wipe your face.

"It is not Arryk's fault that my nose is bloody. It is neither Caraxes fault for shoving me. It is mine. My body is weak and I have spent all day looking for my husband, against the behest of my maester."

Alicent clenches her jaw. It is Daemon's fault.

"I will go to the maesters' ward and submit to whatever is prescribed to me," you place a hand on her shoulder. You sniffle, "do not speak to father of this."

"Make sure to go to the maester's then," you sister warns.

Dejected, you look away and walk off.

Alicent takes in a breath before grabbing her skirts, marching over to the king's quarters.

Viserys is in the middle of gluing his diorama of King's Landing when he hears a knock on the door, "come in."

Alicent enters, sighing deeply before pulling a smile.

"Alicent," his blank expression slightly lightens.

She curtsies, "your highness," and walks over to him. She turns her attention to whatever it was the king was building.

Viserys shows raises a block, "a new tower."

Alicent smiles softly, "pretty."

The king raises a brow upon noticing the stiffness to her demeanor, "is everything alright?"

Alicent betrays herself on purpose by nodding her head too quickly.

Viserys puts the tower down. He reaches for her arm, "what's wrong, my girl."

She takes a sharp breath, "my sister—"

He furrows his brows.

"—she... she has a bloody nose from falling."

"She fell?"

"Twice," Alicent fidgets with her hands, honest agitation for her sister taking over her, "because she's been looking for Daemon."

His reaction to the name is instant. Viserys' jaw clenches and his fists ball in anger, "Daemon."

Daemon struts down the great hall, making his way towards the Iron Throne. The night was now deep and the few candles lit in the room only increased the tension between the brothers.

The prince looks up at the king. The king and two kingsguard stationed on either side of the throne look down at him. Viserys clenches his sword, "and where have you been?"

Daemon scoffs, aimlessly looking around, "have you summoned me to nag?" He clasps his hand in front of him, leaning on one foot, "I already have a wife for that."

His brother laughs, hard. It echoes across the hall, but it is by no means genuine, "I would not have ever known with all the time you waste in brothels."

Daemon grinds his teeth, face contorting, "so you've summoned me to reb-"

"Did you say it?" Viserys snaps.

"... what?"

"An heir for a day— did you say it?!"

"..."

The king's nostrils flare.

"... we must all mourn in our own way, your grace."

Viserys sighs, lowering his head in defeat for a second, then erupts, "MY FAMILY HAS BEEN DESTROYED!" He seethes, "and instead of staying at mine, or Rhaenyra's side you celebrate your own rise with your whores and your lickspittles!

"And wife," he scoffs, "your poor wife... do you even know that your mount has injured her?"

Daemon stiffens.

"She came to the pit looking for you and the beast caused her a bloody nose."

"What?"

"You chose her Daemon. And in choosing her you prove time and time again, I bend to your desires only to be repaid with disrespect. You have no other allies in court but me, yet-"

"You do nothing but distance me from court! From the City Watch, even with- with her... you do nothing but heed the whispers of that leaching old man."

"Leaching old man?" Viserys raises his brows.

Daemon nearly vibrates in anger.

"You mean Otto Hightower?" the king's lips curl, "the man who begged me—"

He laughs dryly.

"—over and back to spare her sickly daughter from enduring a lifetime with a the likes of you!"

Daemon is wounded, "I am your brother."

"Then why do you cut me so deep?"

"I see that man for what he is."

Viserys huffs, "a loyal and faithful-"

"A cunt!"

The king leans back. His kingsguard are ready to draw their steel. Viserys realizes there is no getting through to him. He looks away then turns back to glare at him, "jiōragon hen ñuha laehurlion." Get out of my face.

"Lēkia," Daemon steps forward, muttering the word that meant older brother.

The kingsguards step forward, showing a glimmer of their swords as a warning.

"I hear it is the first time your Hightower bride has been separated from her twin. It would do her health good to visit Oldtown."

He clenches his fists tightly.

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

Daemon does not wait to be apprehended and storms out of the room. He is bristling as he gets out.

"Mazeman bona ziry gōntan daor jikagon sȳrī." I take that it did not go well.

Daemon turns and sees Corlys standing by the door, hands clasped in front of him.

"I wanted to speak to you of something important earlier today. I hope your mood is not too bad foul-"

"Ȳdragon se sagon gaomagon lēda bisa jenigon," Daemon snaps. Speak and be done with this bother.

Corlys straightens his back and motions with hand, "it is regarding the Stepstones, your grace."

Daemon furrows his brows, vaguely recalling this topic being broached during one of the council meetings. The two of them discuss this as they walk down the hall. By the time the prince reaches your shared quarters, he's agreed to help the Seasnake with his concern.

You leap from your bed when the door opens. Daemon freezes as you scurry to the door, hastily running to him without even putting on your slippers. You stand before him barefoot, heaving as you clutch your nightgown. He stares at you, hands clenching into fists.

"Usōvegon," your lips tremble.

Daemon's face falls a fraction as he watches your eyes water.

"Usōvegon," apologies, you repeat. "Please..." you slowly reach for him.

He watches your palms press against his chest. He makes no attempt to move.

"Do not be cross with me any longer."

A deep breath flares through his nostrils. He realizes then that he is exhausted and shuts his eyes. He leans his forehead on yours and takes your wrists. He huffs at your feel, "you are freezing."

"I-"

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

You don't know what he says, so you make sure to tell him what wants to hear— what you think he wants to hear, "I will not defy you ever again."

He does not care about that. He pulls back and looks at you. He wipes the tears off your face and a line forms between his brows, "Caraxes attacked you?"

One of your hands instinctively comes to your philtrum, "no. I-" you shake your head, "I fell."

You don't know why you think Daemon would be satisfied with your answer. He presses, "tell me exactly what happened."

You huff, "I was... yesterday, I fainted—"

"Fainted?"

"—then I fell."

He shakes his head, "this happened in the dragon pit?"

"... no. When... when I was chasing after you."

Daemon brushes your hair back.

You cannot hold his gaze, "I went to the pit, hoping you'd be there and-" you realize you cannot tell him what happened. You cannot tell him you walked to his mount and his mount did not attack you because he could smell part of him in you. You huff, "-and Caraxes got close and knocked me over."

"Did he try to bite you?"

You debate for a second before shaking your head.

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

Your throat tightens. Goosebumps form on your arm when Daemon traces your nose with his thumb.

"And your nose bled?"

You do not want to answer.

He sighs, "I will reintroduce you to him, so that he does not act so-"

"It's not his fault!" you blurt, "not really."

He knits his brows.

"When I fainted and fell, my nose already bled, so..." you motion with a finger, "Caraxes simply... set off a previous injury."

He says absolutely nothing.

"My body is weak," you mumble, hoping to explain it better, "I've had worse injuries."

"Do you tell me this so that I will not bring you to Caraxes?"

"No," you shake your head, "no. Just... so you do not..." worry, you almost say, but then the idea feels presumptuous.

"Not fault my beast for acting like one?" Daemon asks, as he heads for his cabinet.

You look at him for a moment then follow. You decide to hum and proceed to help him get undressed.

Your husband examines your face. The moonlight mixed with candlelight makes your skin glow. He is loathe to think your tears add to it, but it's unfortunately true. Your being glistens because of all these things. He interrupts your unbuttoning by taking your cheeks and slowly wiping off the tears on your lashes.

You blink at him, "better?"

"Gevie," he says, brushing your throat with his thumbs.

You nod, though you still did not know what that meant. You push his doublet past his shoulders and once his dress shirt remained, he is quick to remove his shoes as you bring his clothes to the hamper. When you walk back to him, he is picking out clothes from his closet. You are deeply confused when he hands you a stack of shirts.

Daemon moves to his other cabinet and says, "pack those in my trunk for me."

You freeze and blink rapidly, "I-" you turn to his truck, which was atop his closet. Your heart races, "I cannot reach it."

Daemon pulls out more clothing before looking at you. You watch him closely as he stands and reaches for the trunk. He places it on the floor and opens it.

You slowly kneel on the floor beside it, doing your best to keep calm in this moment. Are you leaving? You nearly ask him, but you don't because he clearly is. You begin to fold his clothes, but you cannot hold your peace, "where are you going?"

Daemon stuffs his clothes into his trunk and sighs before crouching down to fix them, "the Stepstones."

"W-what?"

"The Seasnake needs help with the Crabfeeder, so I will help him."

"Why?" you blurt all too quickly.

Daemon straightens up. He looks down at you as you shake your head and quickly finish folding his clothes.

"Why must it be you?"

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

He is taken aback by how you chuck his clothes into his trunk rather aggressively. His face begins to harden with anger but then you make a noise and lean into the trunk, heaving deeply in and out.

"Wha-"

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

Whatever choler was building in him quickly dissipates and morphs into... fear, or rather, worry. He calls out your name, reaching for your head.

"You cannot leave me," you shudder, gripping his calves for dear life. You look up at him, face wholly distraught but not teary. You find yourself too tired to shed a tear.

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

Your hands remain gripping the sides of his shirt as you stare at him. You take in his stoic expression as you gather the nerve to repeat, "you cannot leave m-"

"And why can't I?" he quips as his insecurity gets ahead of himself.

You hear it in his voice. You hear how he thinks you're challenging him. You shake your head and correct yourself, "n-no," you shudder, "no, Daemon, no. I- I want you to stay." You brush your palms up his chest.

He can feel the tremble of your hands as they come to his cheeks. He knit his brows at your confession. He has to ask, "why?"

You could tell him many reasons. The one possibly most relevant to him is that of the fact you were carrying his unborn child. A shiver runs down your spine; you are not foolish enough to believe this would be something that would make him want to stay. You could always tell him you needed him, your health needed him, because it was true. As much as he clawed your fragile heart, he made it soar in ways you've never experienced. But there was a rather simpler truth to that need, though attached to a very complicated feeling, "because I love you."

Daemon's expression falls. Though his lips barely part, you can tell that he is gobsmacked. You release a shaky breath as you swipe his chin and jaw with the pads of your thumbs.

Should he be so shocked? Love in a marriage is not so uncommon, even if it is arranged, even if it felt opposite in the beginning.

So, what?

What was your love to him? It would wax and wane like his brother's— and his brother, his fucking brother. He could not grant him the satisfaction. Daemon takes you by the wrists and slowly pries you off, "you are mistaken."

You take a deep breath at his words. You are perfectly still.

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

Daemon was not one to lie, convinced such an act was beneath him, reserved for incapable, lesser men; half-wits, and yellow-bellies. The only reason he could say this was because the cup in which you held your love for him was far deeper than the one he had for you, and he was aware of it. He loved himself far more than he could ever bring himself to love anyone; he would always be first.

Still, he was not an incapable, lesser man, nor was he a half-witted yellow-belly. He knew of the cup he held, which oft overflowed. The mere thought of you triggered a smell in the air, and at the mention of your name, his bones ignited. You were his, and you held his regard, his affection, his lust, and, yes, his love.

All of this, he was about to explain, but then your reaction blind-sided him.

You nod, "I know."

How terrible it was to hear it. He knew his words where callous. He knew wuch an admission is a gash from a jagged blade— to not be loved by who you loved. Yet your casual resignation to this information stung, nay, scorched his heart.

Is it cold? Is his love so dry you cannot even feel it?

His grip on you falters.

You bring your hands to his shoulders. You rub his bicep and smile softly in reassurance, "I do not mind."

"What?"

Your smile widens a fraction, "I know you enjoy the... delicateness of my body, both intimately and-" you motion to yourself, "-regarding my affliction."

He knits his brows.

"It is wholly contrary to yours, and it is mirthful to you," you nod again, "I understand."

"Do you?" he raises his furrowed brows.

You slowly loosen your hold on him. You pull away to fidget with your fingers, "do I not?"

"No," he scoffs under his breath, chest tightening far too much he has to move past you, "I don't think you do."

You are quick to grab him but it slips, "then make me understand."

Daemon stops in his tracks, turning back to you as his breathing picks up.

Your own does the same, but your gasps get shorter and shorter, so much so, you feel yourself get lightheaded. Your husband has to grab you to keep you upright, but you want to show him you have the will to overcome this, that you aren't dead weight, so push him away and mutter, "I- I can do it, Daemon."

He misinterprets you. You scorch him again. He squeezes your arms, "you don't want my help now?"

"No," you say as try to catch your breath, "I- I just-" you cannot continue.

Daemon has to sit you down to help calm you down. He tried to keep you upright, but then he realizes you were consciously trying to lean into his chest, so he lets you. You press your cheek against his warm muscles and sigh at the beat of his heart. You wrap your arms around him, "I want this."

He stares at your brown hair for a moment.

"I want all of this," you sigh, "which is why I want to be what you want me to be."

He finally lets himself embrace you, but just then, you pull away to look at him.

"I can do it," you nod as you take a final deep breath, "I can be a dutiful wife— I will be a dutiful wife. I will not defy you. I will do as you please. I will not expect more than I ought."

"You cannot do everything for me," Daemon says with slight contempt, a line between his brows.

"I-" you shake your head, "... I know," you shake your head faster, taking his hands, "but can I make you stay?"

He looks at how you hold him. He feels sick.

"What can I do to ma-"

"You do not understand," he pulls his hand away, "my brother wants me to leave. He is sick of me and prays for my riddance."

You watch as Daemon stands and paces around.

"He told me to bring you to your twin in Oldtown, and I would sooner eat Caraxes' shit than be tossed aside to the fucking Reach."

You shake your head, "why does he want you to leave?"

"He is weepy over the drunken words I spoke."

"Well, what did you-"

"Does it matter?!" he snaps, raising his hands, "I must leave!"

He is clearly upset. You nod your head and come to a stand, "then I will speak to the k-"

"No!" he shouts, "I will not have my wife act on my behalf, as though I rolled my belly."

"You are not rolling your belly, I am."

"You think there is a fucking difference?!" he quips, marching in front of you, "no! I am to leave in the dawn, so pack my fucking things, woman!"

You grit your teeth in an attempt to steel yourself away. It does not prevent the tears from running down your cheeks.

Daemon's nostrils flare as you go back to his trunk and sort out his clothes. He hears your soft whimpers and slowly begins to deflate. He wipes his face, slowly turning to you. He watches tears drop onto his garbs, "have you nothing to say?"

You sniffle and shake your head rapidly.

"No?!" his expression pinches.

You stand and grab the rest of this clothes. You sniffle with difficulty then sigh deeply. Your voice is shaky, "I want only to please you."

Daemon chuckles dryly, aimlessly looking around, "you think this pleases me?"

"Then tell me what will!" you whip your head around, clutching his clothes tightly in your arms, "I implore you." You step forward and haphazardly drop everything to his trunk, "I cannot please you if you refuse to tell me what you want."

"I want to go to the fucking Stepstones!" he points to nowhere.

You are shattered. How terrible of him to make it so painfully clear that what he wants does not even involve you. He does not want you, or even if he did, you cannot be enough. You lower your gaze.

"I want you to beg me to stay."

You look up at him. You chuckle dryly under your breath when you realize he's being serious. Your sorrow is not enough, it seems, now he wants even your shame.

Daemon tenses when you get on your knees.

You grip the fabric of his trousers as tightly as possible in an attempt to steel yourself, but it does not prevent your tears from falling. You shudder, "please."

"..."

"Stay. I beg you."

Your prince gazes upon your bitterness. He brushes your cheek and feels the coldness of your tears. He sighs because this does not affect him the way he had hoped.

It is not enough.

Dawn breaks, and Caraxes is restless. Daemon's things were being secured on his dragon, but that is not why so many dragon keepers had to keep him in check.

There, by the entrance, you stood with your hands clasped together and your head hung low. Both your wards behind you, eyeing your prince, who was doing his best to calm his ride as the last of his things were readied. Daemon did not know Caraxes was acting this way because of your distress, but the keepers slowly began to realize this was the case.

One of the keepers call out, "ñuha dārilaros, aōha ābrazȳrys." My prince, your wife.

"Rȳbagon, Caraxes!" Daemon snaps at his dragon to listen. Caraxes shakes his head and the prince spares the dragon keeper a glance, "skoros hen zirȳla?" What of her?

"Aōha zaldrīzes kostagon yknagon zirȳla boter." Your dragon can smell her suffering.

The prince turns to you, back to Caraxes, "iksis ziry zirȳla, Caraxes?" Is it her, Caraxes.

You lift your gaze when you hear Daemon call for you. He beckons you over and before you can move, Arryk grabs your arm and whispers, "I do not think this wise."

You slightly turn to him, "he will not harm me. You saw how Caraxes acted yesterday."

"It is not the dragon I worry about."

You look at the man, seeing how his jaw is clenched. You place a hand on his shoulder plate before walking towards your husband.

Rather immediately, there is a shift in Caraxes's demeanor. He huffs and screeches, neck coiling so his head could come near you. Daemon barks out multiple commands and his mount finally obeys.

The prince knits his brows then turns to you, reaching out a hand. You take it and find yourself pulled into your husband's arms. Your skin pricks with goosebumps when he whispers in your ear, "he wants you."

You sigh and close your eyes, resigning yourself to Daemon. He links his fingers into yours and places it atop his dragon's snout.

Caraxes sighs and slightly leans in.

Daemon is astounded by this, "I did not know he could possibly care for someone more than his rider."

You slowly open your eyes and look at the creatures ruby scales. "He does not," you mutter, rubbing one hand on your belly.

He does not hear this. When he turns you around, he catches you rubbing your stomach. He sighs and takes your hand, "do not weep so bitterly."

You cannot do anything but the opposite. Tears stream down your cheeks, "do not be so cruel then."

Daemon watches how your lips wobble. A line forms between his brows, "do not make this harder than it should."

You pull away from him and lower your gaze, "then just leave me now, and spare me the slow torture."

He tenses at your words. His expression hardens, "I did not ask you to see me off."

"Shall I leave then?" you snap, eyes red as you look back at him.

"Yes!"

You grab your skirt and walk towards the twins.

Daemon is stunned. He turns around and watches as you storm off. He calls your name, once, twice, and then he is sobered by the scream of Caraxes. You do not even stop by the entrance anymore, and walk past your kingsguards, who are quick to follow after you.

Here you were doing his bidding, following his wishes, yet there was no satisfaction. All there was... was less of you, less of your strength, your light, your fire.

Daemon turns to Caraxes, who was restless again. He pushes past the dragon keepers and saddles up. He orders Caraxes to start walking, so he does. The blood wrym begins to crawl towards you and the prince has to reel him back, barking out orders of obedience far too loudly.

Caraxes gives a loud screech before following the order. He huffs so deeply that the wind it produces makes you topple.

Your knights are quick to keep you upright, and though you so badly want to turn around, you remind yourself that your husband has done nothing but all he wants since you've wed. If he wanted you to stay, he would have told you.

You wouldn't know then that Daemon made Caraxes stop in his tracks. You wouldn't know that as he watched you walk off, he was mumbling under his breath that you turn around. You just kept walking yet he still waited for you to turn back, even after your figure had disappeared.

He would also never know that you headed down to the docks near the Keep, just to watch Caraxes fly away one last time. He would never know how your skin pricked with gooseflesh at the sight of the red winged beast soaring above. He would never know how hard it became for you to breathe.

"Gods, please," you mumble as your eyes endlessly watered, "swiftly return him to me."

Arryk and Erryk, stood on either side of you, glared at the sky as they heard your broken voice. They were on high alert as the docks were busy at this hour, and yet, it was necessary to convey their contempt, even if the person it was meant for could not see.

"Give me back my husband," you look at your reflection in the water, "or take me to my mother."

Before your words even register to either of the twins, you've already jumped into the water. Erryk nearly jumps in with you before realizing his armor would surely make him sink. "PRINCESS!" he screams as he undoes his armor.

"THE PRINCESS!" Arryk screams to the fisherman, "SHE'S FALLEN INTO THE WATER!"

The commotion is great. It is loud and frantic, yet as your body plunges and slowly begins to float, you care little. You feel someone fish you out of the water by the arm, and you want nothing more than to break free and swim towards your demise. But then, you hear your wards calling out your name, and you realize you cannot.

You say nothing once you are on land.

Both Cargylls has a hand on your arm, and each of them are worriedly questioning you, "are you alrigh- what happe- what were you thinki- are you faint- my princess-"

"I need to see him," you say.

Arryk and Erryk freeze. The look at each other, not knowing what to say. Arryk offers, "my princess. I fear you cannot see Dae-"

"Not him," you look between them as you gather your skirts. It is arduous, as it is soaking wet.

Otto was on his way back from the scrolls room when hears the shout from across the hall. He tenses like a rock at the recognition of his daughter's voice.

You hadn't realized how tired you were until you saw him. Your knees immediately buckle and you fall to the floor as you call out, "papa!"

The Lord Hand dashes to you, dropping the scrolls he had along the way. He gets on his knees and picks you up. He is aghast by your dripping state, and his anger is soon turned on your incompetent guards, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GIRL?"

"Papa," you mutter once you are in his arms.

Otto cradles you, looking down at your sorry form. A deep line is between his brows.

"He left me," you whisper, tears wetting your already wet cheeks.

Daemon. Lord Hightower clenches his jaw. It's always fucking him. "Come, my girl," he mutters, trying to bring you to your feet, "let's get you-"

Your voice is soft, yet it still cuts him off, "you must not leave me."

Otto is frozen. Arryk and Erryk are frozen too.

"If you leave me too, I do not think I will survive."

[rogueandflame]

The Twins Plus One

Hi friends,

Here is the final version of The Twins Plus (/and) One, a fic I started off as an example text for my good friend Aera, and then it was suddenly 8.2k words, oops. Enjoy!

✨My Masterlist✨

Warnings: 18+, sex (p in v), oral (m!recieving), targcest (targaryen incest, mentioned regularly), threesome, multiple orgasm, cuckholding, no use of y/n, light descriptions of fem!reader

Cregan Stark x Wife!Reader x FraternalTwin!Jacaerys

MDNI!!!

You sat beside your new lord husband in the meal hall, the warmth of the hearth fighting the chill that had gripped your southerly bones. The table was laden with hearty northern fare—stewed meats, dark bread, and spiced porridge—each bite a balm against the frosty morning. Comfortable silence stretched between you and Cregan, his steady presence grounding you as the castle slowly came to life around you.

The creak of the door interrupted your thoughts, drawing your attention as a young steward entered hesitantly. He walked forward with measured steps, his voice steady despite his youth. “My Lord Stark,” he began, “Prince Jacaerys has been spotted atop his dragon less than a mile away.”

Your heart fluttered at the words, anticipation surging through your veins like wildfire. You turned to Cregan, struggling to keep the smile threatening to break through the stoic mask you’d carefully crafted since arriving in the North.

Cregan, however, remained calm, barely glancing up from his plate. “Thank you, Steward Falk. We will be there to greet him shortly,” he replied evenly, his tone unhurried, as though the arrival of a dragon and its prince was a common occurrence.

The steward hesitated for a moment, then bowed and retreated, leaving you alone once more. The fire crackled softly in the background, the only sound as you rose from your seat. “I shall go and prepare myself, then. I will meet you in the courtyard,” you said, your voice steady despite the excitement swirling within you.

Cregan looked up at you, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile. He nodded, taking a slow swig of his morning ale. “Very well, my lady,” he said simply, his deep voice carrying a quiet warmth.

You left the hall with deliberate steps that soon gave way to a quicker pace, your anticipation driving you forward. It had been nearly six months since you last saw Jace, and the ache of his absence had lingered every day since. Neither of you had ever grown accustomed to the silence that came with separation. You had spent your entire lives side by side, and now, for the first time, duty had driven a wedge between you.

Your mother, Queen Rhaenyra, had bestowed your hand in marriage to Cregan Stark as a royal favor, securing his unwavering loyalty amidst the war against the Greens. It had been a shock, to you and to Jace, for you had always assumed you would one day wed each other—as was the tradition of House Targaryen. But war had a way of reshaping plans, and the need for alliances outweighed sentiment.

And so, you had come to the North, leaving behind the warmth of Dragonstone and the brother who had been your other half. Yet, despite your initial fears, you had found a kind of solace here. Cregan Stark was a man of unshakable honor, his rugged charm and steady presence offering a different kind of warmth. His towering frame and wolfish features complemented your fiery blood, a balance of North and South, ice and fire. He had become your home in a way you hadn’t expected, his strength and tenderness creating a bond you cherished.

Not only was he kind and loyal, but his passion burned as fiercely as yours. The nights you spent together in your marriage bed had opened a door to desires you had never known. While you had not denied yourself pleasures as a maiden on Dragonstone, Cregan’s touch brought an intimacy and rawness that surpassed anything you had experienced before. He made you feel wanted, worshipped, alive.

Yet, as you climbed the steps to your chambers, your thoughts drifted to Jace. Memories of your childhood together flooded your mind with a bittersweet clarity. He had a dragon; you did not. He teased you for your lack of effort, while you claimed you wanted no such responsibility. His hair was a warm brown and his eyes dark, while your hair shimmered like moonlight, and your eyes were the palest shade of lilac. He was measured and composed, while you spoke without restraint, always saying the first thing that came to mind.

Growing up, you had been inseparable, exploring not only the world around you but each other. “One soul, two bodies,” they had whispered on Dragonstone, a remark often meant to discourage the time you spent together. But it was true. You were his confidant, his sister, the bold flame to his tempered one. You were his lover.

The thought made you pause as you reached your dressing table. You smoothed the fabric of your black gown, your fingers brushing over the intricate red and white embroidery—a design that symbolized your Targaryen blood and the house you now represented. The striking contrast of the dark fabric with the vibrant stitching felt like a bridge between your two worlds, and it gave you a quiet strength.

Your hands trembled slightly as you swept your hair into a simple side braid, the anticipation thrumming through you too much to allow for anything more elaborate. The reflection staring back at you in the mirror was a mixture of composed elegance and barely contained excitement. Taking a deep breath, you draped the thick white fur coat over your shoulders—the one Cregan had gifted you on your wedding day. It was impossibly soft and warm, and you couldn’t help but love how its stark brightness contrasted with Cregan’s dark, commanding black cloak.

With one last glance at your reflection, you squared your shoulders, the weight of the moment settling over you. The castle felt alive, the air buzzing with the knowledge of who was arriving. And you—ready or not—would greet him, as both sister and the Lady of Winterfell.

You made your way down to the courtyard, where Cregan stood flanked by his courtiers, awaiting Jacaerys’s arrival. The fresh snow crunched softly beneath your boots, the chill in the air sharp but invigorating as you approached. The crisp northern wind carried with it the faint scent of pine and smoke from the castle’s hearths.

Cregan was deep in conversation with one of his men, his broad shoulders framed by the dark fur of his cloak. Without hesitation, you stepped to his side and slipped your hand into his, the simple gesture announcing your presence. The warmth of his palm against yours was grounding, a silent reassurance in the excitement swirling within you.

At the touch of your hand, Cregan turned toward you, his sharp gray eyes softening as they met yours. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he waved the man off with a curt nod, his full attention now devoted to you.

“My lady wife,” he said with a smile that reached his eyes, his voice rich with warmth. “I will never grow tired of seeing you in this cloak.” His gaze swept over you, lingering with quiet admiration before his hands rose to cradle your face. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin.

Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, a gentle sigh escaping you as you melted into the familiar comfort of his affection. His hands lingered for a moment longer, steady and grounding, before one slipped to take yours. “And this dress, my love,” he murmured, stepping back just enough to take in the full sight of you. “What a choice you’ve made.”

With a slight tug, he beckoned you to spin, the embroidery catching the light as the fabric flowed gracefully. The intricate patterns told a story of unity, weaving together the symbols of the two great houses as seamlessly as your lives had been joined.

“Do you like it?” you asked, your voice soft as a blush warmed your cheeks.

“I love it,” he growled, his voice low and full of conviction. Before you could respond, his hands found your waist, pulling you close as his lips claimed yours in a deep, unrestrained kiss. His affection was unabashed, displayed boldly for the entire courtyard to see. The kiss lingered, warm and consuming, until a piercing shriek shattered the moment.

You broke away, breathless, your cheeks flushed and your lips tingling. Your head snapped upward, your heart leaping as you caught sight of Vermax circling above. The dragon’s shriek echoed through the courtyard, and your eyes lit with excitement, the sight of your brother’s dragon bringing a rush of memories and emotions.

Your hand tightened instinctively around Cregan’s, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst. As Vermax descended, his powerful wings stirring the snow-dusted ground, you could just make out Jace atop the saddle. He was still too far to see clearly, but you didn’t need to. You felt his presence like a flame reigniting something dormant within you.

Every fiber of your being ached to run to him, to throw yourself into his arms as you had so many times before. But duty—and propriety—rooted you in place. Instead, you turned to Cregan, your excitement uncontainable, your grin as bright as a child’s on their name day.

As Jace strides forward, your eyes remain fixed on him, drinking in the sight as if he is the most beautiful vision the gods have ever blessed you with. He is slim, like you, but there is a quiet strength in the way he carries himself. His dark curls frame his face, and you realize with a pang just how much you’ve missed every detail—the way his eyes glint with warmth, the faint curve of his lips when he smiles.

Vermax lets out a low, rumbling complaint, his golden-green scales glinting faintly in the northern light as he shifts restlessly. Jace glances back at his dragon with an easy smile, the kind that speaks of an unbreakable bond. The ill-tempered beast’s antics earn a quiet chuckle from his rider before Jace turns his attention forward again.

Cregan releases your hand, his fingers brushing yours in a subtle farewell, and strides toward Jace with measured steps. The two men meet halfway, the wind stirring the snow around them as the moment hangs heavy with warmth and welcome.

“My Prince,” Cregan bows his head, “What an honor to have you back at Winterfell.” Cregan clasps Jace’s forearm in greeting, his grip firm and warm despite the chill in the air. “I trust your flight was well?”

“My Lord Stark, the honor is all mine,” Jace replies, his voice cordial but tinged with fatigue. He flashes that smile that had always lit up even the darkest of days on Dragonstone. “The flight was well enough, though long. Dare I say I grow weary of being on dragonback for what feels like endless days. Vermax, too, was eager to find solid ground and rest his wings. The North's skies, beautiful as they are, stretch farther than I had remembered.”

Cregan chuckles lightly. “Aye, our skies are vast, and our winters endless, or so it sometimes feels. I hope the warmth of Winterfell can offer some comfort to you and your dragon after such a journey.”

Jace inclines his head with a faint smile. “A hearth to sit by and a meal to share with good company will do much to lift my spirits—and Vermax, I trust, will be content with a quiet perch and a hearty meal of his own.” 

You try to stay still, to hold onto some semblance of decorum, but your heart feels like it might burst. Jace’s presence fills the courtyard, commanding attention as he exchanges words with Cregan, but your focus narrows solely to him. His voice—so familiar yet matured by time and distance—pulls at something deep within you. You barely hear their conversation, your excitement drowning out the words.

The moment Cregan releases his grip on Jace’s forearm and takes a step back, you can’t contain yourself any longer. You lift your skirts slightly and rush forward, your laughter spilling into the crisp northern air. “Jace!”

He turns toward you just in time, his expression shifting from surprise to unrestrained joy. The fatigue in his eyes fades as you throw yourself into his arms, your momentum making him stagger slightly before he catches you effortlessly. His arms wrap around you, warm and strong, as he lifts you off the ground and spins you, just as he used to when you were children.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he says, his voice filled with laughter as he holds you tightly. Your skirts billow in the wind, catching the snow-dusted breeze, but you don’t care who’s watching. All that matters is this moment—having your twin back in your arms.

“And you’re still late,” you tease breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look at his face. “I’ve been waiting for ages.”

“I missed you too, sister,” he replies, his voice quieter now, his dark curls framing his face in a way that softens his usual sharpness. His eyes glint with warmth, the bond between you as unbreakable as ever.

From the corner of your eye, you catch Cregan standing with his arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I should have known I’d be second to greet you, Prince Jacaerys.”

Jace sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your shoulders as he grins at your husband. “Forgive me, my lord, but she’s never been good at waiting.”

“And I never will be,” you add, lacing your arm through Jace’s, refusing to let him go just yet. “Not for you.”

Cregan chuckles, his deep voice warm. “I see there’s no competing with twins.”

Jace looks down at you, his smile softening. “Not when you’ve been apart for this long.”

Cregan steps back with a knowing smile, his hands clasped behind his back. “I’ll leave you to your reunion,” he says, his deep voice warm and steady. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, soft with understanding, before he nods to Jace and turns toward the gathered onlookers, giving you both the privacy he knows you need.

You glance back at Jace, your arm still looped through his, but your eyes flicker to the towering form of Vermax. The great dragon shifts restlessly, his tail swishing through the snow, sending up puffs of frost. His golden-green scales glint faintly even in the muted northern light, and his sharp, intelligent eyes seem to search for you.

With a grin tugging at your lips, you release Jace’s arm and take a step toward the beast that looms like a mountain of muscle and fire. Vermax watches you approach, his head lowering slightly, nostrils flaring as his hot breath puffs against the cold air. The warmth he radiates is almost tangible, a stark contrast to the biting chill around you.

“Hi, old friend,” you say softly, your voice carrying just enough to reach him. Your hand rises instinctively, and Vermax lets out a low, rumbling croon, the sound vibrating through the air and your chest. He leans his massive head closer, his jeweled eyes fixed on you with an almost affectionate curiosity.

You press your palm to the smooth scales of his snout, marveling at the familiar warmth beneath your fingers. “It’s been too long,” you whisper, your voice tender. “You’ve grown even more magnificent.”

Behind you, Jace chuckles softly, his voice rich with amusement. “I think he missed you nearly as much as I did.”

“You’ve always had a way with him,” Jace says, his voice quieter now, a note of admiration slipping through the weariness.

You meet his gaze, holding it for a heartbeat longer than you should. “And I always will,” you reply softly, your lips curving into a small smile. There’s a warmth in his eyes, something deeper than his words, but you push it aside as you step closer and slip your hand into his. “Come. Winterfell isn’t as forgiving as Dragonstone, and I’d rather not have you freezing out here.”

Jace doesn’t resist, his hand fitting into yours as though it had never let go. As you guide him toward the keep, the snow crunching under your boots, the quiet settles between you—not uncomfortable, but charged, as if the air holds the weight of every memory you’ve shared.

“Things have changed,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice is measured, but there’s something wistful beneath it. “You. Me. Everything.”

You glance back at him, your brow arching slightly. “We’re not children anymore, Jace,” you say lightly, though your heart twists at the reminder. “Life changes. That’s what it does.”

“And yet,” he murmurs, his gaze fixed on you, “some things don’t.”

You falter for just a moment, your steps slowing as his words hang between you. You don’t turn to face him, afraid of what you might see in his eyes—or worse, what he might see in yours. “Don’t, Jace,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not here. Not now.”

The warmth of his hand tightens ever so slightly, and you hate how much you notice it, how much you miss it when you let go to push open the heavy doors to the keep. The firelight spills out into the corridor, bathing you both in its golden glow, but it does little to ease the ache building in your chest.

As you step inside, Jace’s presence feels both too close and too far. You know the walls of Winterfell are not kind to secrets, and you know that your love for Cregan is true. But Jace—Jace was your first love, the other half of your soul, the person who knew every piece of you before you even understood it yourself. That part of you will always belong to him, no matter where life’s currents have carried you.

“I’ve missed this,” he says, his voice soft and raw, as he follows you down the torch-lit corridor. “Not just being here. You. Us.”

You glance over your shoulder, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s good to have you here, Jace,” you say, sidestepping the words he wants to hear, the words you can’t bring yourself to say. “Winterfell’s been quieter without you.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, though it carries a hollow edge. “Quiet isn’t always a good thing.”

You lead him toward the great hall, the scent of pinewood smoke and roasted meat growing stronger with each step. For a moment, you let yourself imagine a different life—one where the traditions of your house hadn’t demanded so much of you, one where duty hadn’t been placed above love. But it’s a fleeting thought, one that you bury as quickly as it surfaces.

As you pause just outside the hall, Jace reaches for your hand again, his touch as familiar as the way your name sounds on his lips. “We were supposed to end up together,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. There’s no accusation in it, just a quiet truth that neither of you can deny.

You don’t pull away this time. Instead, you meet his gaze, your heart breaking a little under the weight of everything you can’t say. “I know,” you whisper. “But life had other plans.”

For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you, the unspoken past and the impossible future colliding in the space between. Then, from within the hall, you hear Cregan’s voice, steady and commanding, calling your name. The sound pulls you back to the present, grounding you.

You step away from Jace, your hand slipping from his as you turn toward the hall. “Come,” you say softly, glancing back at him one last time. “Winterfell is yours for as long as you’re here.”

He follows, his steps quiet, but the way his gaze lingers on you tells you he’s already counting the days until he must leave again.

The great hall of Winterfell was alive with warmth and merriment, the crackling of the hearth mixing with the hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. The busy day had given way to a night of comfort, the excitement of Prince Jacaerys’s arrival lingering in the air like a shared secret. The North’s famous hospitality was on full display—platters of roasted meats, thick stews, and hearty bread lined the tables, while goblets brimmed with mulled wine and ale.

The hours since Jace’s arrival had passed in a blur of formal greetings and quiet reunions. You had spent much of the day guiding him through Winterfell, showing him the changes to your new home while reminiscing about the past. His presence brought a warmth to the cold halls, but now, as the feast began, the formalities melted into the simple joy of being together.

You sat between Jace and Cregan, the firelight dancing across the three of you as the evening wore on. Jace, for all his charm and easy smiles, was quieter than usual. He laughed when prompted, offered polite responses to Cregan’s stories, but you could see the fatigue etched into the lines of his face.

As the hour grew late, Jace leaned back in his chair, his goblet nearly untouched. He stretched slightly, the movement subtle, but enough for you to catch it. He was holding himself together out of courtesy, but you knew him too well to miss the signs of exhaustion.

Cregan, mid-sentence in a tale about a hunt from earlier in the season, paused as Jace set his goblet down and rose to his feet. “My lord, my sister,” Jace began, inclining his head toward the two of you. “Forgive me, but the journey has taken more out of me than I realized. I must excuse myself and retire for the night.”

Cregan nodded, his expression understanding. “Of course, Prince Jacaerys. You’ve earned your rest. We’ll see you at the breaking of the fast.”

Jace turned his gaze to you, his dark eyes warm despite the weariness in them. “Goodnight, sister,” he said, his voice soft but steady.

You offered him a small smile. “Goodnight, brother. Rest well.”

He inclined his head once more and strode out of the hall, his steps steady but slower than usual. The door closed behind him with a faint creak, leaving the warmth and revelry of the hall behind.

The walk back to your chambers was quiet but charged, the air between you and Cregan warm despite the chill of Winterfell’s stone halls. His hand lingered at the small of your back, steady and sure, guiding you through the dimly lit corridors. The firelight from your chambers spilled into the hallway as he pushed the door open, allowing you both to step into the inviting glow.

Cregan moved to pour himself another goblet of wine, watching you as you leaned casually against the mantle. The firelight played across your features, casting soft shadows over your skin. He studied you for a moment before speaking, his voice low and smooth. “You and Jace… you’ve always had a bond. It’s different. Stronger.”

You met his gaze, your lips curving slightly, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes—nostalgia, maybe, or something deeper. “We are twins,” you said simply, though the words carried weight. “But more than that. Growing up, there was no one else like him. He was mine, and I was his.”

Cregan raised an eyebrow, swirling the wine in his goblet. “Yours,” he echoed, his tone curious. “How so?”

You let out a soft laugh, stepping away from the hearth and crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. “Jace and I had what we called ‘twin time.’ An hour, every day, just for us. No lessons, no court, no responsibilities. No one else allowed.”

He leaned back against the table, his goblet forgotten in his hand. “And what did this ‘twin time’ entail?”

A slow smile spread across your lips, the memory heating your cheeks slightly. “Whatever we wanted. Sometimes, we’d talk. Other times, we’d sneak out to the cliffs and just sit there, watching the sea.” You paused, your gaze drifting toward the fire. “But as we got older… things changed. Twin time became something… more.”

Cregan’s gray eyes darkened slightly, his interest unmistakable as he stepped closer. “More,” he repeated, his voice dipping lower. “How much more?”

You glanced up at him, your pulse quickening under his steady gaze. “Enough that people began to notice,” you admitted, your voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite name. “We shared everything. Not just secrets, or dreams, but… everything.”

Cregan set his goblet down on the table, his hands resting on either side as he leaned toward you slightly. “And now?” he asked, his voice rougher, more deliberate. “Does he still hold that part of you?”

Your lips curved again, though this time the smile was slower, more intimate. “Jace will always be a part of me,” you said, your tone light but charged. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not exactly where I want to be.”

He straightened slightly, his eyes locked on yours, his interest piqued but his expression unreadable. “You’re an intriguing woman,” he said finally, his voice carrying a faint edge of amusement. “I’m starting to think I’ll never fully unravel you.”

You tilted your head, your smile widening as you rose to your feet, closing the space between you. “Good,” you said softly, your voice taking on a playful lilt. “Where would the fun be in that?”

Cregan reached out, his hand brushing against your waist, his touch deliberate but teasing. “Fair enough,” he murmured, his gaze dipping for just a moment before returning to yours. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about how far this ‘twin time’ went.”

You let out a low laugh, tilting your head up slightly as your fingers toyed with the edge of his tunic. “Some things are better left to the imagination, my lord,” you teased, your voice warm and laced with suggestion.

His hand tightened slightly on your waist, a soft hum escaping his lips. “You’re a cruel woman,” he said, though the faint smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement.

“And yet, you married me anyway,” you quipped, leaning closer as the firelight danced between you.

The rest of the night stretched ahead, the warmth of the fire and the charged air between you promising no shortage of intrigue and intimacy.

It was the Hour of the Wolf, the darkest and stillest time of night. Jace wandered the cold halls of Winterfell, missing the warmth of the south and the closeness of his family. He was wrapped in a borrowed wolf-fur coat—one of Cregan’s—which hung loosely on his frame, nearly two sizes too large. His sword rested at his hip, his hand gripping the hilt tightly as though it could offer some reassurance against the chill that seeped into his bones.

His mind was restless, caught in an endless cycle of thoughts. The looming war dominated most of his worries, but beneath that weight was you—always you. For the first time in his life, he had spent more than a moon’s turn away from his beloved twin. Six months had passed since Jace had escorted you north for your wedding to Cregan Stark. He had known this day would come eventually—duty demanded it—but he hadn’t expected it to arrive so shortly after your twentieth nameday.

Cregan was a good man, steadfast and loyal, and one of the crown’s closest allies. Jace and Cregan were like brothers, and yet, Jace couldn’t shake the thought that he should have been the one by your side. Your husband. The way it had always been meant to be.

As he walks, his thoughts run wild over the last time he saw you in front of him. The way your hair, the pale silver of your mother’s lineage, cascaded down your back. The soft curve of your waist that complimented the curve of your breasts, and the pale violet of your eyes that reflected your undeniable Targaryen heritage.

 You were his. And he was yours.

For a moment, the thought settled over him like a weight, but then a sound drew him from his reverie. Passing your chambers, he stilled, his ears catching faint noises from within. Muffled voices, sharp and low, and then a series of sounds—furniture creaking, a soft gasp, followed by something that almost sounded like a stifled cry. The noise carried through the heavy wooden door, unmistakable in the quiet of the castle.

Weary and restless, his mind leapt to the worst. Panic surged through him as his grip on his sword tightened. What if you were in danger? What if someone had crept into your chambers while Winterfell slept? He didn’t think. He acted.

Jace pushed the heavy door open swiftly, the sound of it echoing through the hall. His sword was in his hand in an instant, the blade glinting in the faint firelight as he prepared to strike down whoever dared to harm you.

And then he saw you.

You were mid-struggle, but not for your life. The man pinning you was no enemy, no intruder. It was Cregan, his bare shoulders broad and familiar, his dark hair tousled as he pressed against you with an intensity Jace couldn’t ignore. The noises he’d heard—your gasps, the creaking of the bed—suddenly made sense, and the realization hit him like a blow.

Cregan looked up at the sudden interruption, his expression calm, almost amused, despite the clear intrusion. His large frame hovered over you, his palms pressed firmly against the bed on either side of your head, poised with an authority that seemed unshaken by the scene unfolding.

You tilted your head back toward the door, your view of the world upside down as you murmured, “Jace?”

Cregan leaned back onto his knees, his broad chest rising and falling steadily, but he made no move to cover either of you. “Are you going to stand there like a frail pup,” he drawled, his northern accent thick, “or are you going to join us?”

Your eyes flew open wide as you shot a look at him, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Cregan!” you hissed, but he continued undeterred, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smirk.

“Your dear sister told me about what it was like growing up with you,” he said, his voice steady and low, as though he were commenting on the weather. “Targaryens and their queer customs,” he said, his tone calm but edged with dry amusement. “Still, traditions run deep, don’t they? Even here in the North.”

Jace stood frozen in the doorway, his sword still drawn, his mouth slightly open as he tried to process what he was seeing—and hearing. The confident, unshakable Prince of Dragonstone looked utterly lost for words, his dark eyes wide with shock.

“Jace,” you said, your voice softer now, though tinged with exasperation. “If you’re going to stand and watch, could you at least shut the door?”

Snapped from his stupor, Jace scurried to shut the door behind him, the heavy wood groaning on its hinges. His sword found its way back to its scabbard as he turned to face the room, his expression still a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

“Come, my young prince,” Cregan said, rising from the bed with a deliberate slowness that made his towering frame all the more imposing. “I want to see how you pleasured her in the south. She is always saying how much she misses you.”

“Cregan!” you said again, though there was no denying the flush spreading across your cheeks—or the way your lips curved into a faint, playful smile.

Rolling onto your stomach, you propped yourself up on your elbows, your gaze flicking between your husband and your twin. “My dear brother,” you teased, your voice light and warm despite the tension in the room. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so speechless.”

Jace’s mouth opened and closed as he looked between you and Cregan, his confusion giving way to nervousness. He shifted uncomfortably, as though unsure whether to move forward or retreat. “Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, laced with hesitation.

You tilted your head, studying him with a fond smile. “It’ll be just like old times, brother,” you purred. “You always did have your way with me.”

Cregan moved toward Jace, clapping a firm hand on his shoulder, the weight of it steady and grounding. “Relax, lad,” he said with a chuckle. “The North is colder than the South, but we know how to make things warm.”

You rise gracefully from the bed, the firelight casting a golden glow over your bare skin as you cross the room toward where Cregan and Jace stand. The flickering flames seem to dance across your body, enhancing every smooth curve with an almost ethereal brilliance. Basking in the warmth, the blood of the dragon within you seems to stir, igniting a presence that is both commanding and effortless.

Your movements are unhurried, deliberate, each step carrying the confidence born of your lineage. There is no shame in your nudity; the fire of Old Valyria burns bright within you, and it demands to be seen.

Jace’s gaze is fixed on you, his dark eyes tracing every inch of your form as though committing you to memory. He hasn’t seen you like this in months—not since Dragonstone, where the two of you had shared moments of intimacy so profound that time itself seemed to stand still. Now, he is frozen in place, his tension palpable, his breath uneven. Yet beneath the restraint, there is something else: a mix of longing, reverence, and the faintest hint of disbelief, as though you are a vision he never thought he’d behold again.

You reach for him, your fingers brushing his cheek in a familiar, tender gesture. Leaning closer, your lips graze the curve of his neck, a breathy kiss that makes him shiver under your touch. His borrowed wolf-fur cloak slides from his shoulders with ease as your hands find the fastening of his tunic, the fabric parting beneath your deft fingers.

Behind you, Cregan moves silently, retreating to the foot of the bed. His presence lingers, calm and watchful, his steady gaze drinking in the scene as though it were a rare hunt unfolding before him.

You smile against Jace’s neck, your touch soothing and guiding, coaxing the tension from his frame. Gently, you take his hands and place them at the small of your back, encouraging him to hold you as he once did, to let the moment bridge the space that had grown between you.

Jace's hands trembled slightly as they settled on your skin, but the familiar warmth of your body against his seemed to awaken something within him. His touch grew more confident, fingers tracing the curve of your spine as he pulled you closer.

"I've missed you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His lips found yours, the kiss tentative at first but quickly deepening with months of longing and separation.

You melted into his embrace, your body remembering his touch as if no time had passed. Your fingers tangled in his dark curls, tugging gently as the kiss intensified. The taste of him, the scent of him - it was all achingly familiar, like coming home after a long journey.

"That's it," Cregan murmured, his deep voice carrying across the room. "Show me how you used to please her, Prince Jacaerys."

Jace broke the kiss, his breath coming in short pants as he glanced over your shoulder at Cregan. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the desire burning within him. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips found the curve of your neck.

You tilted your head, giving him better access as a soft moan escaped your lips. Your fingers worked at the laces of his breeches, eager to feel more of him. "Jace," you breathed, your voice husky with want.

Jace's teeth grazed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Gods, I've dreamed of this," he murmured against your neck, his hands roaming your body with growing confidence.

You arched into his touch, relishing the familiar feel of his hands on your skin. With deft fingers, you finished unlacing his breeches, pushing them down his hips along with his smallclothes. Jace stepped out of them, kicking them aside as he pulled you closer

His arousal pressed against your stomach, hot and insistent. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly as you captured his lips in another searing kiss. Jace groaned into your mouth, his hips bucking involuntarily into your touch.

You guided Jace backwards towards the bed, your lips never leaving his as you moved together in a familiar dance. The back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he sat, pulling you down to straddle his lap. His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples as you ground against him.

"Show me," Cregan's deep voice rumbled from beside the bed. "Show me how you used to take your pleasure from each other."

You broke the kiss, gazing into Jace's dark eyes as you lifted your hips. He gripped himself, positioning at your entrance as you slowly sank down onto him. Twin gasps escaped your lips as you were joined once more, the feeling of completeness overwhelming after so many months apart.

You began to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm as Jace filled you completely. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements as he thrust up to meet you. The familiar stretch and fullness of him inside you sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Gods, you feel incredible," Jace groaned, his head falling back as you rode him. His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, drinking in the sight of you above him.

You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Your tongues danced as you moved together, rediscovering the perfect synchronicity you'd always shared. Jace's hands roamed your body, caressing and kneading as if trying to memorize every curve and plane.

From the side of the bed, Cregan watched intently, his gray eyes dark with arousal.

As you and Jace became lost in each other, you glanced over your shoulder at Cregan, who stood there, unmoving yet fully aroused. His heated gaze sent a thrill through you, only adding to the mounting fire within. You lifted your hips higher, grinding against Jace with a newfound urgency, your breath hitching in your throat as the sensations intensified.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan, your eyes locked with Cregan's. He knew what you wanted without a word being spoken. Slowly, he approached the bed, his steps measured and deliberate.

Cregan joined you on the bed, his large frame dwarfing both you and Jace. His rough hands caressed your back as you continued to ride Jace, sending shivers down your spine. You leaned back slightly, pressing against Cregan's broad chest.

Jace's eyes widened as he took in the sight of you sandwiched between them. His hips stuttered in their rhythm for a moment before he regained his composure, thrusting up into you with renewed vigor.

Cregan's lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, sucking and nipping as one hand snaked around to cup your breast. His other hand trailed lower, fingers circling your most sensitive spot as Jace continued to fill you.

The dual stimulation was almost too much. You cried out, your back arching as waves of pleasure washed over you.

The sensations overwhelmed you as Cregan and Jace worked in tandem, their touches igniting every nerve ending. Cregan's skilled fingers circled your sensitive bud as Jace thrust deeply inside you, the combination bringing you to dizzying heights of pleasure.

You threw your head back against Cregan's broad shoulder, a breathless moan escaping your lips. "Gods, yes," you gasped, your body trembling between them.

Jace's dark eyes were fixed on your face, drinking in every expression of ecstasy. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he drove up into you with increasing urgency.

"That's it, love," Cregan murmured in your ear, his deep voice rough with desire. "Let go for us. Show us how good it feels."

His words pushed you over the edge.

Your climax crashed over you in waves of searing pleasure, your body trembling between them as you cried out. Your inner walls clenched around Jace, drawing a deep groan from him as his thrusts became erratic.

"Gods, I'm close," Jace gasped, his fingers digging into your hips.

Cregan's hand left your sensitive bud, and you let out a exasperated whine as the sensation ceased. "Not yet, lad," he growled. "She can take more."

With surprising strength, Cregan lifted you off Jace, eliciting whimpers of protest from both of you at the loss of contact. But before you could voice any complaints, Cregan had you on your hands and knees on the bed.

"Take her from behind," Cregan commanded Jace, his tone brooking no argument.

Jace didn't hesitate, moving behind you and entering you once more with a low groan. His hands gripped your hips as he set a punishing pace, driving into you with renewed vigor. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, your oversensitive body trembling.

Cregan knelt in front of you, his large hand cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His gray eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at you. "Open," he commanded, his voice husky.

You parted your lips obediently, watching as Cregan freed himself from his breeches. He was impressively large, and your mouth watered at the sight. Slowly, he guided himself between your lips, letting out a deep groan as you took him in.

Cregan's impressive length filled your mouth as Jace continued to thrust into you from behind. The dual sensations were overwhelming, pleasure coursing through your body with each movement. You moaned around Cregan, the vibrations making him groan deeply.

Jace's fingers dug into your hips as he pounded into you relentlessly. "Gods, you feel amazing," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure.

Cregan's hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you took him deeper. His other hand cupped your cheek tenderly, a stark contrast to the intensity of his thrusts.

The room was filled with the heady scent of sex and sweat as the three of you moved together in a primal rhythm. Jace's thrusts grew more erratic as he neared his peak, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. Cregan guided your movements with a firm hand tangled in your hair, his impressive length sliding between your lips.

Every inch of your body trembled with pleasure, caught between the passionate thrusts of Jace behind you and the powerful presence of Cregan in front of you. Your senses were overwhelmed as Jace's deep and forceful movements sent waves of ecstasy through your core, igniting every nerve ending in your body. The weight of Cregan on your tongue added an extra layer of intensity, his taste and scent filling your mouth as he moved with a controlled rhythm. You were consumed by the intense sensations, lost in a world of pure pleasure that seemed to have no end.

Jace's movements grew more desperate as he chased his release. His fingers dug into your hips, sure to leave marks, as he pounded into you relentlessly. "I'm close," he gasped, his voice strained.

Cregan's hand tightened in your hair, guiding your movements as you took him deeper. "That's it," he growled. "Show us how well you can please us both, little dragon."

The overwhelming intensity of their combined attentions sent you spiraling towards another climax. Waves of pleasure surged through your body as Jace's firm thrusts found and stimulated just the right spot. With each movement, a low moan escaped your lips and traveled along Cregan's length, causing him to let out a deep groan in response. The air was thick with the scent of desire and the sounds of passion as you surrendered to the pleasure they were giving you. It was like being caught in a whirlwind of sensation, unable to control your own body as it responded to their skilled touch. And in that moment, nothing else mattered except the pure ecstasy that consumed every inch of your being.

Jace's movements grew frantic as he neared his peak. "I can't hold back much longer," he gasped, his fingers digging into your hips.

Cregan released his grip on your hair, allowing you to pull back. "Let go, lad," he commanded. "Fill her up."

With a few final, powerful thrusts, Jace let out a deep, guttural moan as he found his release. The sensation of him pulsing inside you sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. Your muscles clenched and released in perfect rhythm with his, amplifying the intensity of your second climax. As you shuddered between them, pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, consuming your senses and leaving you breathless. Even as Jace continued to move through his own orgasm, you were lost in the blissful aftermath of yours, feeling completely surrendered to the pleasure coursing through every inch of your being.

Now it was Cregan's turn to fulfill your deepest desires and fill your womb with his potent seed. Where Jace's touch was gentle yet intense, Cregan possessed a raw, untamed energy that ignited a fire within you. His primal nature and unbridled passion were like a wild winter storm, sweeping you away in a frenzy of pleasure.

As you came down from your climax, Jace slowly withdrew, collapsing onto the bed beside you. Your body trembled with aftershocks as Cregan gently guided you to lie back.

"My turn," Cregan growled, his gray eyes dark with desire as he positioned himself between your thighs. He entered you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You gasped at the sensation, still sensitive from your previous orgasms.

Cregan set a relentless pace, his powerful hips driving into you. Where Jace had been passionate yet gentle, Cregan was raw power and primal need. His large hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as he pounded into you.

"Gods, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. "So wet for me. So wet for your brother,” he praised, each word punctuated with the thrust of his hips.

Your cries of pleasure echoed through the chamber as Cregan drove into you with powerful thrusts. His large hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wide as he pounded relentlessly. The bed creaked beneath you with the force of his movements.

"That's it, love," Cregan growled, his gray eyes dark with lust as he gazed down at you. "Take all of me."

Beside you, Jace watched with hooded eyes, his hand lazily stroking himself back to hardness. The sight of you writhing in pleasure beneath Cregan seemed to awaken something primal in him.

Cregan's relentless pace drove you higher, building the pressure within you once more. Your hands clutched at his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you cried out in pleasure. The room was filled with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh and your breathless moans.

"So beautiful," Cregan growled, his voice rough with desire. "Taking us both so well."

Jace moved closer, his hand trailing down your body to where you and Cregan were joined. His fingers found your sensitive bud, circling it in time with Cregan's thrusts. The dual stimulation was overwhelming, pushing you rapidly towards another peak.

"That's it, sister," Jace murmured, his dark eyes fixed on your face. "Let go for us again."

Your body arched off the bed as another intense climax crashed over you, waves of pleasure radiating through every nerve. You cried out, inner walls clenching around Cregan as your release washed over you.

Cregan growled deeply, his thrusts becoming erratic as your tightening pushed him over the edge. With a final powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his seed spilling deep within your womb. The feeling of his hot release triggered aftershocks of pleasure that had you trembling beneath him.

As you both came down from your highs, Cregan carefully withdrew and collapsed beside you on the bed. You lay there panting, sandwiched between your husband and your twin, your body still tingling from the intense pleasure.

Jace's hand trailed lazily up and down your side as Cregan pulled you close against his chest.

The three of you lay tangled together on the bed, your bodies glistening with a thin sheen of sweat in the firelight. The room was heavy with the scent of sex and the lingering echoes of pleasure. For a long moment, the only sound was your collective heavy breathing as you all came down from the intense high.

Cregan's large hand splayed possessively across your stomach, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. Jace's fingers intertwined with yours, a familiar comfort that sent a pang of bittersweet longing through your chest.

"Well," Cregan rumbled, his deep voice tinged with satisfaction, "I'd say that was a successful reunion."

You couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped your lips, turning your head to press a kiss to Cregan's bearded jaw. "Indeed it was, my lord," you murmur.

[luckyartdrawer]

100 Follower Milestone Poll! 🎉🎉🎉

Heya lovelies!!! This blog hit 100 followers oh my goodness!!!

I really can't believe it, it's so awesome to see you all here! <333 Whether you're new or old around here it doesn't matter, I am electronically hugging and/or patting all of your heads in great thanks! ✨💖✨💖✨💖✨

To celebrate, I have some options in a poll for y'all to choose what you would like to see for this milestone! I HIGHLY suggest reading the explanations of each option below the break! It clarifies some important details. Its down there so any of y'all just scrolling by won't have to worry about a wall of text! <3

Please feel free to vote even if you aren't following me!!!

Poll Options explanations:

Drop early chapters of EYED / Dreamlike: This is a Moon-centric x reader fic I've been working on for several months now and I originally planned to start posting it when I finished it or got really close to doing so. I dropped a sneak peek of it here! I find myself currently on a standstill on it's later chapters, which is why it hasn't been finished yet, but otherwise I am reallllly happy with it's messaging and pacing. (Rn I have plotted out 15 chapters but it's looking like it could be longer with how I write oops-)

The first chapters have been pretty polished at this point, so if people are really curious about this one, I don't mind to start posting the chapters up to a certain point. If this wins, I'll post the first 3 chapters for 3 sequential days, then 4 and 5 will come out in the next week, and then the last week I'll post ch. 6 for no particular reason mhmm yup I am not planning anything nefarious-

Drawing requests: This would be my first time doing something like this, and while I know I can pop out some bangers for y'all I also don't want to dig myself into a hole and leave y'all waiting for a long time. 😅So if this wins, I'll take the first 10 requests and draw them out! If I feel capable of doing more I may open some more slots for y'all, but I need to test my speed and my capabilities here first. Expect some lovely rendering bc I love it so, but I won't be doing backgrounds (besides simple colors) for the sake of my sanity.

Drabble requests: Most of ya here probably see me as only an artist, but I do write and actually started out as a writer first for this fandom hehe. ✨ I've been doing well recently with short stories so as long as y'all want em, I can hopefully dish em out at a reasonable pace! I, again, haven't done something like this before. So if this wins, I'll take the first 10 requests, but I feel more confident that I can do this at a reasonable pace, so if things go well I'll open up 5-10 more slots for y'all!

Rendered drawing of a dca AU: Hehe, my forte /J. I've drawn some whacky crossovers, cute sillays, and horror stuff at times, but some of y'all also know I love soooo many AUs in this fandom, hehe! I definitely do not mind drawing AUs, there are MANY I haven't drawn for, but I will be avoiding drawing other's specific AUs. I love making fanart, but this is going to thank y'all for being here, so I would like to keep from using someone else's AU -- it would feel like I'm stealing them e3e.

Plus, this is from me to thank you! And so will the goobers! I'll try to be as detailed as possible with both the characters and location <3

If this wins, I'll set up another poll to last for 3 days. It'll have some general au options like Mer, then I'll list out some crossovers I have done like Submas! Sun/Moon, and I'll add my own AUs! There will also be an option to suggest an AU/crossover! (Please don't be afraid to do so, as long as enough people have an interest in the option, or even if it doesn't win I may still make it if I really like the suggestion! <333)

Rendered drawing of Biblical dca: This means the drawing will be as realistic to the original as I can get it! Gonna do my best to do material rendering and all mwehehe! Though, I may make him extra polished/shiny to not only play with reflections, but to also say how sparkly y'all make me feel hehe ✨✨✨

If this wins, I'll try to finish the drawing within a week or 2 after I make the announcement of the poll's winner! I'll also throw out a really quick poll for 1 day to let y'all pick who will be our biblical goober: Sun, Moon, or Ruin Eclipse!

Something else: This is pretty self explanatory, but if you have ideas, comment below! (You can even if you didn't pick this option!!!) And if you see an idea you like or that you wanted to comment already said below, please reply to that person's comment to keep things easy to track! You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, just drop something simple like ✨ in it and I'll know that means ya voted for it. :) (I'll be checking to make sure people didn't vote on the same comment more than once! But you can vote for multiple ideas <3)

If this wins/has enough interest, I'll choose the most popular suggestion! Depending on what suggestion wins, I may actually do BOTH that suggestion and the winning/2nd place option on the poll!!!! ( Woah 2 for one what :O )

My choice 💥💥💥: I typically don't like making choices actually, but in the case y'all are indecisive I will step up ✨✨✨ If this wins, I'll likely choose whatever sounds best to me in that moment hehehe, you'll never be 100% sure what I'll do >:)

Moon's bald and we love him for it: Oh yeah we do! <3 This is just a joke option to let people who don't want to vote to see the results. If this wins... Uh... We'll go for the 2nd place vote! And also I'll add a bald Moon doodle as a bonus goodie. (I'm so good at making incentives to get people to vote, I know I know ✨✨✨)

Thanks again for all the love guys!!! This fandom has been so good to me and I cannot thank y'all enough for making it as awesome and welcoming as it has been! <333

[ezrazwrldz]

abstragedy week day 2!

confession

gangle’s pov!

this is it..! today’s the day i tell zooble just how i feel. the complete, honest truth. ragatha and pomni both seem convinced that they’re into me too, but honestly..? why would they be? they’re so cool and smart and strong and kind.. and i’m just me. it feels hopeless. but i promised i’d try. and what better way to try other than art?

i grab my pencils and sketchpad, and start sketching away. they’re the one i like drawing most out of all my friends. their simple shapes make it easy to break down and simplify, and i can add whatever limbs i like-! i can even design new ones, and i love that type of creative freedom. though, this time, it seems like each and every attempt i make isn’t good enough. their eyes too far apart, head too small.. nothing looks right. nothing feels like it’s right for zooble. it’s not perfect enough..!

eventually, i put my equipment down, a small stifled sob leaving me. and another. and another. more and more, until i completely break down in tears, trembling a little from how hard i’m crying. i just wanted this to be right for them.. for it to be perfect. they deserve that, no matter how much they tell me they love how i draw them. there’s a look in their eyes, a look of distance and longing. as if they want something more, something different. and i want to be the one to give them what they want, even if i don’t exactly know what that is.

i recollect myself, stepping outside my room and heading to the grounds, which i know they’re hanging out at. talking to ragatha, as she promised she’d distract them whilst i got my art ready. but, i don’t have a drawing to give them. only words of pure, genuine love.

“..zooble..? can i talk to you.?” i ask, stammering. i don’t dare to look them in the eyes, as if simply that would give away my intentions. irregardless, they met me with that familiar cool kindness.

“hey, gangle, what’s up?” they ask. despite not having a mouth, i could see a smile on their eyes, a smile that was truly glad to see me. they were happy to see me. this was the norm, but every time i still got those familiar butterflies in my stomach, that joy of someone as cool and unbothered as them being truly happy to see me.

i take a few deep breaths, bracing myself for what im about to confess. “..ithinkiminlovewithyou- like, ever since the day we first met you’ve done nothing but be so, so, so kind and honest to me and just- you’re perfect- i love you so, so, so, so , so much- and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, i’ll understand-“ i ramble, only managing to put my hand over my mouth after everything had spilled out. oh, no…

i finally look up at them, being met with soft, wide eyes. “oh- uh- i don’t know what to say-“ they begin, causing my heart to stop and stomach drop. but what they said next changed my world: “..i love you too, gangle. i don’t know why i didn’t tell you sooner.. but, yeah. i love you.”

i immediately squeal and envelop them in a hug of pure love and joy. they’ve never exactly been a great hugger, but i don’t mind.

i love them no matter what.

[lovelizards]

"Well well, if it isn't the beggar baron's little flower..."

Lord Daniel's body pressed against her back, pinning her against the wall and leaning so close to the shell of her ear that she could feel his breath.

His hand brushed against her arm, cajoling her, and though his voice was honey sweet she knew better than to trust any man who came by her father's invitation.

"Good afternoon, my lord," she murmured, every inch of her going ice cold and dead, like something left by the tide on a rocky shore.

"Lady Iris, you look absolutely ravishing today. If I had more time, I would have asked for the honour of taking a walk through your lush gardens."

She felt him press in further, and braced her hands against the wall to steady herself, her head bowed, and vacant eyes on the floor.

"What a shame," she said, "I am also terribly busy. Perhaps another time."

"A shame indeed..."

The son of the Count who lorded over their territory, a rampant deviant, a rake, with a sharp and unpredictable temper. Why did her father have to borrow so much money from him? What was she supposed to do against such a powerful -

"Hey shithead-!"

Lord Daniel made a choking sound in anger, and his looming shadow moved away - finally allowing her to breathe. Iris recognized the voice very well, and glanced down the hall to see her rescuer stomping towards them.

Mabel - the daughter of her father's falconer, and a close friend since childhood. Her fiery hair was wild around a pale face smudged with dirt and entirely covered in freckles, like a starry night sky.

"Wh - what the devil did you just -?!" Lord Daniel could barely get the words out, before Mabel pushed herself in between him and Iris, puffing herself up - despite only reaching to his shoulders - and putting her fists on her hips.

"What are you doing here again?!" She shouted, her voice echoing through the halls and drawing the attention of some servant on the far end, "How many times do I need to tell you fuck off?!"

"You dirty little brat, how dare you speak to me like -!"

"Don't you take your anger out on me! It's not my fault the gods gave you the curse of incompetence and blond hair!"

Lord Daniel's face was mottled with heated embarrassment. The sound of stifled laughter came whispering down the hall. With an exhale of outrage - the feathers in his cap drooping into his face - he furiously turned from the two and rushed out of the annex.

Once he was gone, Mabel turned to Iris, her anger melting into worry; "My Lady - why do you let that bastard near you? You only need to scream once, and the guards would -"

"But my father owes him so much money..." Iris interjected. It was an argument they often had, "I can't afford to send him away myself, what if...what if father decides..."

"That would never happen!" Mabel insisted, taking her hands up and holding them tightly, "I would never let you be traded to pay any debt. Didn't you already say you'd marry me one day?"

Iris gave her a weary smile.

She remembered that day well, when the two of them were no more than seven and eight years old. Hiding from Iris' tutors in the rose bushes, the thorns tearing up their clothes.

"And didn't I already tell you that you're no more beholden to a child's whims than I am?"

Mabel huffed a sigh, but Iris could tell she wasn't really annoyed, because her ears always flushed pink when she was happy.

"Come on, then. Let's go visit Lady Ribbons, she'll cheer you up."

Mabel took her hand, and started leading her down the hall.

"That's so embarrassing! Please stop calling her that!"

'Lady Ribbons' was what Iris had named her silver falcon when she was a child, but as an adult she called the bird Rimona. Mabel would never let her forget it, though.

Sometimes Iris wondered if her friend was stuck in the past, somewhere far away, in her own little world. It seemed like such a nice place, a past full of the smell of flowers and feeling of warm sun on her face.

"It's a cute name! Just like you! Come on!"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming."

[featherfangart]

I'm drifting off to nowhere The past, an echo on my mind Home, I'm almost home...

[deoidesign]

One of my first digital pieces (2010) versus one of my recent ones (2024)

We all start somewhere!

[xxplastic-cubexx]

If you were to like redesign Magneto's classic outfit in a way that both suits the character and your own tastes, how would you redesign it?

uhhhh errrmmmmm i dont know i really couldnt improve upon perfection but i have still tried for you my friend !!!

[juustozzi]

a dumping ground for some random quick doodles

[futurama]

[fleouriarts]

feeling bad about my art lately. will probably not post for a while. but i wanted to at least dump some stuff here before i retreat into my hidey hole

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pictures and things

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Interesting. Don’t necessarily think I’m autistic but I have more going on than just ADHD and I’m not sure what that is.

[non-un-topo]

Was just struck by the memory of I'm With You by Avril Lavigne, and singing it now in my deep voice feels like I'm singing to my 14 year old self who was so painfully lonely and lost

[penisbilt]

the bittersweet but absolute flood of relief that comes from admitting defeat at living independently, to have to move back in with parents. we tried! we gave it our best shot for almost 3 years! but living like this (being on our own) is just not possible for us at this time of our lives. we've finally proved it to ourselves that we can't do it. it'll be okay to let ourselves rest now

[spacespore]

HI TUMBLRR it’s me