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xtruss · 2 years ago

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Archaeology: How Asia’s First Nomadic Empire Broke the Rules of Imperial Expansion

Ancient China’s mobile neighbors built an empire that’s attracting scientific scrutiny

Xiongnu Herders in what’s now Mongolia, portrayed in this painting, followed their own rules in building a multiethnic empire and advancing iron-making technology starting around 2,200 years ago, new studies indicate. Flickr (CC0 1.0)

— By Bruce Bower | July 2, 2023

In an age that spawned the ancient Roman and Egyptian Empires, Mongolia’s Xiongnu Empire broke the rules of imperial expansion.

Long before the Mongol Empire arose, Asia’s first nomadic empire, horse-riding Xiongnu people, conquered ethnic groups across the continent’s northeastern and central expanses (SN: 1/29/10). A common political system headed by Xiongnu imperial rulers formed about 209 B.C. and lasted for roughly 300 years. Unlike in Rome or Egypt, mobile groups of Xiongnu animal herders accomplished this feat without building cities, forming central bureaucracies, devising a writing system or mobilizing masses of farmers to produce food.

Today, remnants of Xiongnu culture largely consist of more than 7,000 tombs, some heavily looted and many yet to be excavated, in Mongolia and nearby parts of China and Russia. In the last decade, geneticists and archaeologists have ramped up efforts to study these sites and ancient records to decipher the Xiongnu Empire’s political organization and technological achievements.

Starting from a heartland in what’s now central Mongolia, the Xiongnu Empire (brown) spread across a large part of northern Asia, taking hold around 2,200 years ago. Naturalearthdata.Com/Wikipedia (CC0 1.0)

A few ancient Chinese chronicles include descriptions of the Xiongnu political system. These accounts portray the Xiongnu as predatory raiders who belonged to a “simple” confederation of herding groups run by a few nomadic alpha males. Even so, warfare with mounted Xiongnu warriors equipped with bows, arrows and metal weapons had inspired Imperial Chinese leaders to construct their Great Wall.

Some researchers have argued that Xiongnu people formed a lesser, “shadow empire” alongside Imperial China. But that view is giving way to a picture of the Xiongnu Empire as a different, not lesser, type of ancient state, says Yale University archaeologist William Honeychurch.

In this view, nomadic Xiongnu elites developed a flexible system of political power that connected mobile groups with different genetic and cultural ancestries spread across extensive grasslands and forests. “Elite lineages were not only an important part of a multiethnic Xiongnu state, but members of these lineages were sent to peripheral areas as part of state integration,” Honeychurch says. One new study, for example, indicates that Xiongnu women from elite lineages in central Mongolia served as “princess” emissaries to the empire’s frontier, assuming political power in distant territories populated by various ethnic groups.

“This must have been an empire organized around moving populations,” says archaeologist Bryan Miller of the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. “Xiongnu elites were savvy politicians who delegated power to keep the empire together.”

In another recent development, excavations in Central Mongolia point to Xiongnu people as early ironworking innovators whose advances spread to their regional neighbors. These discoveries, and others, highlight the unappreciated complexity and the ongoing mystery of how Xiongnu society worked, researchers say.

The Xiongnu Dispatched Frontier ‘Princesses’

Initial insights into the Xiongnu people’s diverse genetic origins were first published in 2020. DNA extracted from remains of 60 individuals excavated at 27 Xiongnu sites indicated that two genetically distinct populations of Mongolian herders had coalesced to become the Xiongnu people around 2,200 years ago. One population descended from several western Mongolian cultures and the other from a couple of eastern Mongolian cultures.

Additional genetic contributions to the Xiongnu mix then came from farther away, most likely a culture near present-day Ukraine as well as Imperial China, reported archaeogeneticist Choongwon Jeong of Seoul National University in South Korea and colleagues.

Building on those findings, Jeong’s team then examined DNA of 17 individuals from elite and low-status graves at two Mongolian cemeteries on the Xiongnu Empire’s western frontier. Central Mongolia’s Xiongnu heartland lay around 1,200 kilometers to the east.

The six largest and richest tombs contained women whose genetic ancestry traced back to central Mongolia, the scientists reported in April in Science Advances. These women rested in wooden coffins placed in square tombs. Items found in these tombs included gold sun and moon emblems of Xiongnu imperial power, glass beads, silk clothes and Chinese mirrors.

Gold Sun and Moon Emblems of Imperial Xiongnu power were found among other elite items in a woman’s tomb on the western edge of the ancient nomadic empire. DNA evidence indicates the woman was related to ruling families in the empire’s Mongolian heartland. © J. Bayarsaikhan

One woman was buried with horse-riding equipment, a gilded iron belt clasp and a Chinese lacquer cup. These objects have previously been found in graves of male horse-mounted warriors. But such items signal that a deceased person had been powerful, not necessarily a warrior, says Miller, a study coauthor.

Miller and his colleagues suggest that the women had been sent to the frontier to maintain Xiongnu traditions and nurture contacts with Silk Road trade networks (SN: 3/8/17). Preliminary signs of genetic relatedness among individuals interred at one of the cemeteries suggest that some elite Xiongnu “princesses” also cemented power by marrying into local families.

The elite women’s graves were flanked by simple graves of adult men, and of girls and boys ranging from babies to adolescents. These commoners possessed greater genetic diversity than the female big shots. If the men were retainers or servants of female elites, they had come from distant parts of the Xiongnu Empire or possibly beyond, the researchers say.

Male Rulers Were Homebody ‘Princes’

Like these female elites, premier Xiongnu rulers had common roots in central Mongolia while their followers had diverse geographic origins, another team reports in the June Archaeological Research in Asia. But rather than being sent to the far reaches of the empire, these rulers stayed close to home.

Three male nobles interred in large underground tombs at one of the largest Xiongnu cemeteries, Gol Mod 2, spent most or possibly all their lives in the Khanuy Valley where they were buried, say archaeologist Ligang Zhou of Henan Provincial Institute of Cultural Heritage and Archaeology in Zhengzhou, China and colleagues.

Meanwhile, at least four of eight individuals buried in some of the many small satellite graves situated near the nobles’ tombs had spent much of their lives in distant places before settling in or near the Khanuy Valley, measurements of different forms of the element strontium in individuals’ teeth and bones indicate. Diet-related strontium signatures, which vary from one region to another, signal where a person spent early and later parts of their lives.

The identities of those in satellite graves, who were apparently killed to form entourages of followers that accompanied deceased nobles, are unclear. They include children and adults, Zhou says. Some were buried with metal weapons or luxury objects such as jewelry.

Genetic and strontium findings suggest that “Xiongnu political organization in central and western Mongolia was highly similar,” Zhou says. Then, as the empire expanded, rulers in the Xiongnu heartland sent select members of their extended families, such as high-ranking women, to new territories in order to replicate the imperial power structure.

Seen from above, a Xiongnu noble’s tomb, left, lies near a set of small tombs that contained his followers to the afterlife. Xiao Ren, Henan Provincial Institute of Culture Heritage an Archaeology

Iron Innovations Bolstered the Xiongnu Empire

From the start, Xiongnu imperial power depended on a ready supply of iron weapons and other gear that enabled horse-mounted warfare. Researchers who view the Xiongnu Empire as a faint version of Imperial China argue that the nomads’ power depended on importing crops and borrowing iron-making techniques, or simply trading for iron products, from the Chinese.

But new findings suggest that Central Mongolian metallurgists launched a regional boom in iron production around the time the Xiongnu Empire originated, says archaeologist Ursula Brosseder of the University of Bonn in Germany.

At a riverbank site, Brosseder and colleagues have excavated five iron smelting installations that contain by-products of iron making and burned wood. Radiocarbon dates of that material extend to as early as around 2,200 years ago, when the Xiongnu Empire arose.

That makes these finds, each of which consists of two pits connected by a tunnel, the oldest Xiongnu iron smelting kilns by at least 100 years, the researchers reported in March in Asian Archaeology.

Earlier research had established that people living just north of Xiongnu territory in southern Siberia started producing iron as early as around 2,800 years ago. Based on comparisons of finds in the two regions, Xiongnu metallurgists not only learned about iron making from their neighbors but also invented tunnel furnaces, the investigators say. Eastern Asian groups outside the Xiongnu sphere began making and using tunnel furnaces over the next couple of centuries.

Discoveries by Brosseder’s group “show that metallurgy reached the Xiongnu in Mongolia from southern Siberia, not China,” says archaeologist Nikolay Kradin, director of the Institute of History, Archaeology and Ethnology at the Far-Eastern Branch of the Russian Academy of Sciences in Vladivostok. Craftspeople at several iron-making centers, some slightly younger than Brosseder’s discoveries and others yet to be found, must have managed that technological transition, hypothesizes Kradin, who did not participate in the new research.

Brosseder suspects the Mongolian site she’s studied hosted a major iron-making operation. Four iron-making furnaces excavated near the other five have not yet been dated. And ground-based remote sensing equipment has revealed signs of at least 15, and possibly 26, more iron smelting kilns still covered by sediment.

“We can expect more findings of Xiongnu iron smelting centers considering the demand for iron horse gear, arrowheads, carts and other material by the empire’s large army,” Brosseder says.

No reliable estimates exist for the size of that army, or for the overall number of Xiongnu people, says Michigan’s Miller. Xiongnu herders, who also occasionally cultivated a grain called millet, moved across the landscape in relatively small groups that must have been greatly outnumbered by Imperial China’s estimated 60 million citizens.

The Capital Was a Seasonal Seat of Power

In the same valley where Brosseder’s group discovered the oldest known Xiongnu iron smelting kilns, Mongolian researchers have uncovered remains of what was probably a Xiongnu political center, or perhaps even its capital, called Longcheng in 2020. Consistent with everything else about the Xiongnu Empire, “this was a capital of a different kind,” says Miller.

Longcheng excavations so far have focused on a large building that may have hosted important gatherings.

Roof tiles on that structure bear an inscription in ancient Chinese characters that reads “Son of Heaven Chanyu.” Chinese records refer to the supreme Xiongnu ruler as “chanyu.” That royal inscription, the only one found within the Xiongnu realm, identifies Longcheng as a seat of power, Miller says.

Rather than a permanent site, Longcheng, like several excavated Xiongnu villages and walled compounds in central Mongolia, served as a seasonal stopover or temporary meeting place, Miller suspects (SN: 11/15/17). “We don’t know if those other sites were separate political capitals for the Xiongnu,” he says. Top Xiongnu honchos gathered for part of the year at Longcheng before packing up and moving elsewhere, he speculates. Xiongnu herders, regardless of political status, navigated animals to seasonal grazing spots. Staying in one place throughout the year was not an option.

Having a flexible, mobile system of rule appears to have kept the nomadic realm rolling for a few hundred years before the Xiongnu Empire rapidly disintegrated about 1,900 years ago. Why it did so is an enduring mystery. Perhaps the empire succumbed to combined attacks by Imperial China and other groups or, in true nomadic fashion, Xiongnu people reorganized on a smaller scale and moved to safer areas.

Still, “the Xiongnu had created a massive imperial network in Asia,” Miller says. “Their ways of life didn’t go away overnight.” For instance, Xiongnu-mediated trading by groups situated along Central Asia’s Silk Road routes continued despite military defeats in the empire’s central Mongolian heartland. Only further archaeological and genetic discoveries can clarify how Xiongnu people in the imperial core responded to those setbacks.

Whatever happened, Asia’s first nomadic empire can likely be counted on for a few more surprises.

— Science New, July 02, 2023, By Bruce Bower

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novaursa · 5 months ago

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The Cold Embrace (2/2)

Requests are closed!

- Summary: As time passes, snow begins to melt.

- Pairing: velayrion!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: @missisjoker So, here is the second and last part straight from the oven that was being baked all night. I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you guys like this conclusion of this two part story.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 8 000+

- Previous part: 1/2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess @jellybeanstacey0519 @strengthandstay @anne-mary-1d @lovelyteenagebeard

The crisp chill of autumn clung to the air, painting the landscape of Winterfell in muted shades of orange and gold. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, and the days had grown shorter, yet despite the changing season, little had thawed between you and Cregan Stark. The cold inside the walls of Winterfell seemed to mirror the tension that still lingered between the two of you, each day marked by stilted conversations and, more often than not, sharp exchanges.

Today was no different.

"You speak of duty as if it’s something noble," you spat, your voice tight as you stood across from Cregan in the courtyard, your cloak billowing in the wind. "But this—this life you’ve trapped me in—it’s a cage. You call it honor, but what is honorable about ripping me away from my family?"

Cregan, his expression as hard as the stone walls surrounding you, stood tall, arms crossed over his chest. The northern winds blew through the yard, stirring his dark hair as he met your gaze with his own unflinching one. "A cage? Is that what you see this as? I have given you more freedom than many would expect from a lord. You come and go as you please, and I have not demanded anything of you that you have not been ready to give."

"You think freedom means letting me roam these cold, barren lands?" you shot back, your voice rising. "I am a dragon, Cregan, not some northern wolf content with howling at the moon. I am bound to the skies, to fire and wind, and every moment I am here, I wither. You cannot understand that."

His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with frustration. "I have done everything to make this a home for you," he said, his tone dangerously low. "But it’s clear that nothing will ever satisfy you. You’re too busy yearning for something you’ve lost to see what is right in front of you."

You scoffed, turning away from him, your steps hurried as you walked toward the godswood, needing space, needing air. "There is nothing here for me but snow and silence," you muttered, though you knew he heard you.

Cregan watched you go, his heart heavy as the weight of your words settled in. He stood there for a long moment, the wind tugging at his cloak, his expression unreadable. Inside, however, there was a storm brewing—a storm of disappointment, frustration, and something else, something deeper that he had been trying to deny for months.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he turned and made his way back into the keep, his mind racing with thoughts he could no longer ignore.

In the warmth of the solar, the fire crackled in the hearth, its light casting flickering shadows across the room. Grand Maester Kennet sat across from Cregan, his wise old eyes studying the lord with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"You’ve been quieter than usual, my lord," Kennet said, folding his hands in his lap. "Something weighs heavily on you."

Cregan leaned back in his chair, staring into the flames. He had kept his feelings bottled up for so long, unwilling to admit to anyone, let alone himself, how much this situation had affected him. But now, with the distance between him and you growing each day, the burden felt too great to carry alone.

"She doesn’t want to be here," Cregan said quietly, his voice rough with an emotion he rarely let show. "No matter what I do, no matter how much I try to make this place a home for her, she only sees Winterfell as a prison. She longs for Dragonstone. For her family."

Kennet nodded thoughtfully, his expression sympathetic. "It is not uncommon for one to yearn for the place of their birth, especially when it’s been taken from them. The Princess... she is like her mother, strong-willed and fierce. The North is a different world for someone raised among dragons and fire."

Cregan exhaled slowly, leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed a hand over his face. "I know that. I’ve known it since the day she arrived. But... there’s more. It’s not just that she can’t find a place here." He paused, his voice dropping, as if the words themselves were difficult to admit. "I care for her, Kennet. More than I thought I ever would. When Jacaerys first came to me, he spoke of her with such passion and admiration. He told me stories of her strength, her spirit, how she was a woman who could stand beside any man, even one like me. And I believed him. I admired her before I even met her."

The Maester listened in silence, his brow furrowed in thought as Cregan continued.

"And when she arrived," Cregan went on, his gaze distant, "I saw it. Everything Jacaerys said was true. She’s fierce, and proud, and... gods, she’s beautiful in her own way. But she looks at me like I’m the reason for all her misery, like I’ve taken something from her that she can never get back. She’ll never see me as anything but the man who keeps her from the life she wants."

Kennet sighed softly, shaking his head. "Love is a complicated thing, my lord. You cannot force it, nor can you expect it to bloom in a place of resentment. The Princess... she is grieving the life she left behind. She may yet come to see what you offer, but it will take time."

Cregan’s eyes flickered with doubt as he looked at the older man. "Time may be something we don’t have. The war brews in the South, and her family is at the heart of it. She feels trapped here while her brothers and mother fight for the throne. I’ve heard her speak of it—how the North is no place for dragons, how she feels as though she’s losing herself in the cold."

The Maester tilted his head, considering Cregan’s words carefully. "It is true that the North is no easy place for a soul like hers. But perhaps... perhaps if you can show her that she can still be who she is, even here, she might come to find her place."

Cregan stood from his seat, pacing the room, the weight of his frustration palpable. "How can I show her that when she refuses to let me in? Every time we speak, it turns into an argument. She doesn’t trust me. She doesn’t want to be here, and she certainly doesn’t want to be with me."

Kennet rose slowly, his hands resting on the table as he regarded Cregan with a calm, steady gaze. "Then you must be patient, my lord. If you truly care for the Princess, you will have to endure her fire, much like one endures the harshest winters. But winters pass, and even in the North, the snow melts. Perhaps in time, her heart will soften."

Cregan sighed deeply, staring into the fire once more. He wished it were as simple as waiting for the snow to melt, but as the days passed, he feared the rift between him and you was growing too wide to ever close.

He wanted you to see him, truly see him, not as the man who kept you here but as someone who could stand beside you, strong enough to weather the storm of your spirit. But until then, all he could do was wait.

And hope.

The halls of Winterfell buzzed with an unusual energy, a hive of activity that Cregan hadn’t expected so soon after the summer's end. The brisk wind of autumn howled through the open courtyards, and yet the chill in the air was not the only sign that winter was approaching. Men and women rushed through the keep, arms filled with supplies, voices rising in quick, urgent conversation.

Cregan furrowed his brow as he observed the flurry of work. His bannermen and servants seemed to be following orders, yet none had come directly from him. His curiosity piqued, he caught sight of one of his men, Ser Roland, directing a group of stable hands with a sense of urgency. Cregan made his way over, his long strides carrying him across the courtyard.

"Ser Roland," he called out, his deep voice cutting through the noise. "What’s all this about? I don’t recall ordering preparations for winter just yet."

Ser Roland turned quickly, bowing his head in respect before answering. "Lord Stark, it’s not your orders we’re following. The Princess has taken it upon herself to make sure Winterfell is ready for the long winter ahead. She’s been directing the stores, making changes to the rations, and ensuring that all livestock are accounted for."

Cregan’s brow lifted in surprise. "The Princess? I wasn’t aware she had taken an interest in such matters."

Ser Roland nodded, his expression a mixture of admiration and confusion. "Aye, my lord. She’s had us reorganize the grain stores and instructed that additional salt be used to preserve meats in case the winter lasts longer than expected. She also had some of the women gather herbs and berries for medicinal stocks—said it’s something her mother did on Dragonstone. Even ordered new tunnels to be dug beneath the walls, should the snow block access to certain parts of the keep. It’s... impressive."

Cregan was silent for a moment, taken aback by the level of thought and strategy that had gone into the preparations. The Princess, who had made it clear she despised this place, was ensuring it would withstand winter’s cruelty. And yet, she hadn’t spoken a word of it to him. His initial surprise gave way to a grudging respect.

"And where is she now?" Cregan asked, his tone more curious than demanding.

Roland hesitated before answering. "The Princess took to the skies a short while ago, my lord. She went flying on Silverwing."

"Flying," Cregan repeated, his brow furrowing. It wasn’t unusual for you to seek solace in the skies, but the flicker of worry began to creep in. "And who accompanied her?"

Roland shifted, his expression turning sheepish. "Your son, my lord. Young Rickon went with her."

Cregan stiffened, his heart quickening at the thought of Rickon riding atop Silverwing. His instinct was to feel alarmed—to think of all the things that could go wrong with a boy so young riding a dragon, even one as gentle as Silverwing. For a moment, the image of his son, small and fragile, atop such a powerful beast made him want to storm out and demand answers.

But then he stopped himself. Rickon was not some fragile boy. He was his son, a Stark, raised to face the wild north and the dangers that came with it. And more than that, Silverwing was under your command, a dragon bound to your will. His mind raced with the desire to scold you for being reckless, but something held him back. Rickon had begged for a chance to fly, ever since he had seen the dragons for the first time.

"Thank you, Roland," Cregan said curtly, turning away from the bustling activity of the courtyard and heading toward the godswood where he knew you often landed with Silverwing.

The cold air bit at Cregan's face as he walked through the open fields behind Winterfell. The godswood stood tall and silent in the distance, but it was the open expanse of land beyond it that caught his attention. There, just returning from the skies, was Silverwing. Her massive form settled gracefully on the ground, her wings folding in with practiced ease as you and Rickon dismounted.

He could see Rickon from afar, his small figure bounding toward the keep, his face lit up with sheer joy. As Cregan approached, he heard his son before he saw him up close.

"Father!" Rickon shouted, running full speed toward Cregan, his excitement bubbling over. "I flew, Father! I flew on Silverwing! She let me ride with her, and we soared above the trees! You should’ve seen it!"

The boy’s face was flushed with exhilaration, his cheeks red from the cold wind, and his eyes sparkled with uncontainable glee. He practically bounced in front of Cregan, his enthusiasm infectious.

Cregan knelt down, placing a hand on Rickon’s shoulder. "Did you now?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. "And you weren’t afraid?"

Rickon shook his head vigorously. "No! The Princess told me not to worry. She said Silverwing wouldn’t let anything happen to me." His voice dropped to a near-whisper, eyes wide with awe. "And she didn’t. I felt like I was part of the sky. Can I go again, Father? Please?"

Cregan looked down at his son, his heart swelling with pride at the boy’s bravery. The initial urge to reprimand you, to accuse you of putting his son at risk, faded as he saw the pure joy on Rickon’s face. How could he take that away from him?

He stood up, his eyes drifting toward you. You were brushing snow from your cloak, your gaze turned elsewhere, as if trying to pretend you hadn’t noticed him approaching. But you had noticed. You always did.

For a moment, Cregan was silent, the tension between the two of you palpable. He could have said something. Could have warned you against taking such risks with his son. But instead, he let out a quiet sigh, looking back down at Rickon.

"You can go again," he said softly, ruffling the boy’s hair. "But only when the Princess says it's safe."

Rickon beamed and immediately ran off toward the keep, his excitement carrying him as fast as his legs could take him. Cregan watched him go, then turned his gaze back to you. You still hadn’t spoken, but your eyes met his, guarded as always.

"I should scold you," he said, his tone measured. "You had no right to take Rickon flying without asking me first."

You straightened, your chin lifting slightly. "He wanted to go. And Silverwing wouldn’t have harmed him."

Cregan nodded, but his expression remained serious. "I know. But he’s still my son. And as much as he may adore dragons, I need to know he’s safe."

The tension hung between you for a moment longer, but Cregan couldn’t help the way his heart softened slightly. Despite everything—despite the constant bickering, the distance between you—he could see that while you might not want this marriage, you cared for Rickon. The way you had taken him flying, giving him the one thing that had brought him so much joy, didn’t go unnoticed.

"Perhaps," Cregan added quietly, his tone softer now, "you don’t want me. But you will be a good mother to Rickon. I can see that."

For a moment, you didn’t respond, your expression unreadable. Then you gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "I’ll keep him safe," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cregan watched you for a long moment before turning and heading back toward Winterfell. The coldness between you two remained, but now there was a small crack in the icy wall that had stood between you since the moment you arrived.

The cold air was sharper here, beyond the walls of Winterfell, biting deep into Cregan’s skin as he led his men through the thick snow-covered wilderness. The northern winds howled, carrying with them the scent of pine and frost, mingled with something far more sinister—the smell of smoke from a Wildling camp. They had been tracking the Wildlings for days now, ever since word came that a raiding party had crossed the Wall, attacking isolated settlements and stealing what little food and supplies they could find before winter’s full grip took hold.

Cregan’s blood thrummed with the familiar tension that came before battle. His breath formed clouds in the cold air, his grip firm on the hilt of his sword as he and his men closed in. They could see the crude campfires in the distance, flickering like beacons in the darkening forest.

"Stay low," Cregan whispered to his men, his voice barely audible above the wind. The Stark bannermen, seasoned and loyal, followed his command without hesitation. They fanned out in a loose line, their cloaks blending into the snowy landscape.

The Wildlings had set up in a small clearing, their crude weapons and fur-lined tents marking them as a desperate group. There were perhaps a dozen of them—armed with spears, axes, and the occasional rusty sword—but they were not to be underestimated. Wildlings were fierce, survivalists hardened by the lands beyond the Wall. This fight would be bloody.

Cregan motioned to his men, and in unison, they surged forward, the snow muffling their approach until they were nearly upon the camp.

The first clash came fast and violent.

Cregan’s sword met the steel of a Wildling’s axe, the sharp clang of metal ringing out into the frigid night. The raiders shouted in surprise, their camp erupting into chaos as the Stark men descended upon them. The Wildlings fought back viciously, their crude weapons swinging wildly, aiming for any vulnerable flesh they could find.

Cregan swung his blade with precision, cleaving through a Wildling’s chest, blood spraying across the snow like ink on parchment. He turned just in time to parry another blow, gritting his teeth as the impact jarred his arm. Around him, the sounds of battle raged—shouts, screams, the wet thud of bodies falling into the snow.

But then, something sharp and hot bit into his side.

Cregan gasped, stumbling back as a Wildling spear pierced his flesh just below his ribs. The pain was immediate and blinding, spreading like fire through his body. His grip faltered on his sword for a moment, but he didn’t let go. With a roar, he swung his blade in a brutal arc, slicing through the man who had struck him. The Wildling crumpled to the ground, but Cregan was already weakening, his vision blurring at the edges.

The fight continued around him, his men cutting down the remaining Wildlings, but every movement Cregan made sent waves of pain crashing through him. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay upright, even as the blood began to seep through his furs, staining the snow beneath his feet a dark crimson.

At last, the battle was over. The Wildlings lay dead, their bodies scattered across the snow like broken dolls. Cregan’s men stood victorious, though bruised and bloodied themselves.

One of his men, Ser Vayon, rushed over to him, his face pale with worry as he saw the blood. "My lord! You’re wounded."

Cregan waved him off, trying to mask the severity of his injury. "I’ll live," he growled, though his voice was weaker than he intended. "But I can’t make it back as fast as the rest of you. Take the others and ride ahead. Get help."

Ser Vayon hesitated, his eyes darting between Cregan and the rest of the men. "We can carry you—"

"No," Cregan interrupted, his tone firm despite the pain. "I’ll slow you down. If you ride ahead, you’ll reach Winterfell faster. I’ll follow behind." His vision blurred for a moment, and he had to steady himself against a nearby tree. "Go. That’s an order."

Reluctantly, Ser Vayon nodded, glancing back at the other men. "As you command, my lord."

With that, they mounted their horses, casting one last worried glance at him before spurring their mounts and riding off through the snow. Cregan watched them go, the sound of hooves fading into the distance, leaving him alone in the quiet, snow-covered forest.

He took a few shaky steps, but each movement sent a fresh wave of agony through his body. His hand clutched his side where the blood still flowed, staining the white snow beneath his boots. The world around him tilted, and he fell to his knees, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He tried to rise, but his strength was failing, his body too weak to carry him any further.

Just as his vision began to swim, he heard a sound—a distant, high-pitched screech that cut through the silence like a knife.

Cregan blinked, his vision blurring as something massive appeared in the sky above him. He squinted through the haze of pain, trying to focus, and then he saw it—Silverwing, her silver-scaled body descending from the clouds like a gleaming specter. The dragon landed with a soft thud, her wings folding as she approached him, her eyes gleaming in the dim light.

Cregan cursed under his breath, trying to wave her off with a weak motion of his hand. "Go on, beast," he muttered, his voice slurred with exhaustion. "I’m not your rider."

But Silverwing ignored him, her massive head lowering as she nudged him gently with her nose. The touch was surprisingly gentle for such a fearsome creature, as if the dragon knew he was on the brink of collapse. She nudged him again, more insistently this time, her warm breath washing over him as if urging him to stand.

Cregan tried to push her away, but his strength was gone. "Damn dragon," he rasped, his body trembling from blood loss. "Leave me."

Silverwing let out a low rumble, her large eyes narrowing as if in disapproval. She nudged him one last time, and when he still didn’t move, she took matters into her own talons. With surprising care, Silverwing wrapped her claws around his body, lifting him effortlessly from the snow.

Cregan groaned, the world spinning around him as Silverwing took flight, the sensation of being carried through the sky both terrifying and surreal. His body was limp in her talons, the wind whipping through his hair as they soared above the treetops, Winterfell a distant shadow on the horizon.

His eyelids grew heavy, the pain in his side fading as numbness took over. The world below him grew smaller, the sky a dark blur above.

As Silverwing’s wings beat rhythmically, the wind howling in his ears, Cregan's consciousness began to slip away, the edges of his vision turning black.

The last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him was Winterfell’s walls in the distance, growing closer with every beat of Silverwing’s wings. Then, nothing.

Cregan Stark knew no more.

The courtyard of Winterfell was a storm of chaos as you pushed through the throngs of servants and guards, your heart racing, breath short. The cold northern wind stung your face, but you barely felt it. All you could focus on was the sight ahead—Silverwing, her massive silver form crouched low on the snow, her head lowered protectively over a motionless figure sprawled at her feet. You shoved past a startled servant, your voice rising above the din of panic.

"Move aside!" you barked, pushing through the crowd until you finally reached the clearing where Cregan lay, blood staining the snow beneath him, his face pale and ashen.

Silverwing rumbled softly as you approached, her enormous eyes watching you, but she made no move to stop you. Her wings shifted, creating a barrier between the man she had carried home and the gathering onlookers.

Your heart leapt into your throat. The sight of Cregan—your husband, though it had never felt real until this moment—bleeding and unconscious before his own keep sent a surge of fear through you that you hadn’t expected.

"Where is Rickon?" you demanded, whirling around to one of the women standing near the edge of the scene. Rickon’s nanny stepped forward, worry etched on her face.

"He was playing with the other children when we heard the commotion," she said nervously, glancing toward Silverwing. "Should I—?"

"Find him," you interrupted quickly, your voice firmer than it had been in weeks. "Keep him away from here. I don’t want him seeing his father like this."

The woman nodded, clearly relieved to have something to do, and hurried off into the crowd. You turned back toward Cregan just as Maester Kennet knelt beside him, his hands moving with the steady calm of a man who had seen too many battle injuries in his lifetime. His fingers probed at the wound beneath Cregan’s furs, his face grim.

"Will he live?" you asked, unable to keep the edge of desperation from creeping into your voice.

Kennet didn’t look up, his attention still fixed on the blood-soaked gash. "The wound is deep, but he’s strong. If we can stop the bleeding and keep the fever from setting in, he has a chance. But we need to get him inside—now."

Already, several of Cregan’s men were lifting him carefully onto a makeshift stretcher, their faces pale with worry. You followed as they carried him toward the castle, your feet moving without thought. The icy wind cut through your cloak, but you ignored it. The only thing you could focus on was the sight of Cregan’s lifeless form being carried through the halls of Winterfell, his breathing shallow and labored.

As they reached his chambers, the men gently placed him on the large bed, stepping back to allow Maester Kennet to work. You hovered just beyond the bedside, your hands clenched into tight fists at your sides, helplessness gnawing at you. Despite everything—despite the constant arguments, the coldness between you—you couldn’t bear the thought of losing him like this. The stark realization struck you hard, knocking the wind from your lungs.

You didn’t want him to die.

For what felt like hours, Kennet worked over Cregan’s body, stitching the wound with deft hands and applying herbs to stave off infection. You stood nearby, your eyes never leaving Cregan’s pale face. He was so still, too still. The sight of him like this made the cold inside Winterfell seem even more unbearable.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kennet finished his work. The room was filled with the scent of medicinal salves and the sharp tang of blood. The old Maester wiped his hands on a cloth and turned to you, exhaustion etched in every line of his face.

"I’ve done all I can for now," he said quietly. "He will need time to heal, but whether he wakes or not depends on his own strength."

You nodded mutely, your throat tight with unspoken fear. "Thank you, Maester," you managed to whisper. Kennet gave a small nod, then gathered his supplies and left the room, leaving you alone with Cregan.

For a long time, you stood there, staring at the man who had become your husband, the man you had fought with, resented, and yet now feared to lose. His breathing was shallow, but steady, the rise and fall of his chest a small reassurance in the overwhelming uncertainty that hung over the room.

Without thinking, you moved closer to the bed, sinking into the chair beside him. Your hand reached out almost instinctively, and before you could stop yourself, your fingers closed around his. His hand was rough and calloused, larger than yours, but in this moment, it felt fragile.

"You stubborn, foolish man," you whispered, your voice breaking as you held onto him. "You always have to be the hero, don’t you?"

Tears stung your eyes, but you blinked them away, unwilling to give in to the fear gnawing at your insides. Instead, you lowered your head, closing your eyes as you prayed softly in Valyrian, the words flowing from your lips in a desperate plea to the gods of your ancestors.

"Grant him strength," you whispered, tightening your grip on his hand. "Give him the will to fight, to wake up."

The room was silent save for the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the warmth of the flames doing little to thaw the cold dread that had settled in your chest. You stayed by his bedside, refusing to leave, your heart pounding with every passing second.

Despite everything, you weren’t ready to let him go. Not yet.

And so, you stayed, waiting, praying, and hoping that Cregan Stark—your husband—would find his way back to you.

Cregan awoke slowly, his mind swimming through the thick fog of pain and disorientation. The world around him was hazy, the room spinning as he tried to make sense of where he was. His body felt heavy, weighed down by a deep, aching fatigue that seemed to seep into his very bones. He blinked, his vision clearing little by little, and as the soft flicker of firelight came into focus, he realized he was back in his chambers, the familiar scent of burning wood and herbs filling the air.

It was then that he noticed her.

You sat beside his bed, your arms crossed, your expression a mixture of concern and irritation. The furrow in your brow deepened as you noticed him stirring, your lips pressed into a thin line that barely masked the relief you must have felt. Despite the heaviness in his limbs and the sharp pain that shot through his side with every breath, Cregan couldn’t help but find it almost... amusing. There you were, the Dragon Princess, always so fierce and untamable, looking as though you were about to scold him, even now.

"You're awake," you said sharply, though there was a tremor of emotion beneath your voice that gave you away.

Cregan tried to sit up, wincing as the pain lanced through his side, but before he could make much progress, you were leaning forward, pushing him back down with a firm hand on his chest.

"Don’t even think about it," you warned, your tone brooking no argument. "Maester Kennet said you shouldn’t move. Not unless you want to tear your stitches and end up back in this bed for even longer."

He lay back with a grunt, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the discomfort. "Well, I wouldn’t want to upset the Maester," he muttered, his voice gravelly from disuse.

You gave him a look that would have wilted lesser men. "You almost died out there, Cregan."

The smirk faded from his face as he looked at you more closely. There was something in your eyes—something raw and unguarded. The irritation, the frustration—it was all there, but beneath it, there was a depth of feeling that surprised him. You were angry, yes, but not just at him. You were angry because you had been scared. Scared of losing him.

The realization hit him like a punch to the chest, and for the first time in years, he felt something stir inside him. It was warmth, not from the fire in the hearth, but from the way you were looking at him—fierce and tender all at once. It had been a long time since anyone had cared for him in that way, and now, seeing it in you—the woman who had resisted him, who had fought him every step of the way—brought a strange sense of peace to his heart.

"You care," he said softly, more to himself than to you.

You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter as you sat back in the chair. "Of course I care. You’re my husband, for better or worse." Your tone was sharp, but the emotion in your eyes betrayed you.

Cregan couldn’t help but chuckle, even though it sent a sharp pain through his side. "I didn’t think you’d admit that so easily."

You glared at him, though the fire in your eyes wasn’t the same angry blaze he was used to. It was different now—softer, though no less fierce. "Don’t flatter yourself," you shot back. "I’m only here because Rickon can’t see you like this. He’d worry too much."

Cregan’s lips twitched into a faint smile. "So, you’re saying you’re here for Rickon, not for me?"

You opened your mouth to retort, but then you stopped, your eyes flicking away for a brief moment before returning to his. "I’m here for both of you," you admitted quietly, your voice losing some of its edge. "You were reckless, Cregan. Going after those Wildlings in your condition was foolish. What were you thinking?"

He sighed, his hand moving slightly to rest against his bandaged side. "I was thinking I needed to protect the North. To protect my people."

"At the cost of your life?" you shot back, incredulous. "Your people need you alive, not bleeding out in the snow."

There was a pause, and then Cregan gave a small nod, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that surprised you. "You’re right," he said, his voice low and steady. "I was reckless. But it’s what I’ve always done. I’ve always put others first. The North, Winterfell, my family... I didn’t think anyone would care if something happened to me."

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the weight of unspoken things. You stared at him for a long moment, your expression softening, and for the first time, Cregan saw something shift in you. The walls you had built between you—the ice that had kept you at a distance—continues to crack, again a little more than before.

"I would care," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I may not have wanted this marriage, but I don’t want you dead."

The warmth in his chest grew, spreading through him like a fire kindling to life after a long, cold winter. He had known you were strong, had admired your spirit from the moment Jacaerys spoke of you. But now, seeing you like this—caring, vulnerable in your own way—it was more than he could have ever expected.

"I never thought you’d stay by my side like this," he said, his voice soft, his dark eyes searching your face. "But you did."

You looked away for a moment, your fingers tightening in your lap. "I stayed because I couldn’t leave you like that. No one deserves to be alone when they’re hurt, not even you."

He chuckled softly, wincing at the pain it caused. "You have a strange way of showing concern, Princess."

Your lips curved into the faintest of smiles, though it was laced with exasperation. "You’re insufferable, you know that?"

"I’ve been told," he muttered, still smiling despite himself.

The tension between you seemed to ease then, the space between you no longer as cold and vast as it once had been. Cregan felt it—the change, subtle but undeniable. And though he knew things wouldn’t be easy, though you would likely bicker again and clash as fiercely as you had before, there was something different now.

For the first time in a long while, Cregan Stark felt something stir inside him—a warmth, a sense of hope. He didn’t know what the future would bring, but for now, he was content with the knowledge that you were here, by his side, and that perhaps, just perhaps, you cared for him more than either of you had realized.

And that was enough.

The godswood was bathed in the soft light of the late afternoon sun, the ancient red leaves of the weirwood tree rustling in the cool breeze. Cregan walked beside you, his stride steady now, fully recovered from his near-fatal wounds. It had been months since that day when Silverwing had saved him from death's grip, and in that time, the distance between you and Cregan had shifted. You still bickered, your sharp words clashing like swords, but there was something different now. Beneath the teasing, the arguments, there was a warmth that neither of you could deny.

"I still think you're insufferably stubborn," you muttered, your arms crossed as you walked along the path beside him. "Charging into battle like a fool—next time, I won’t be sitting by your bedside."

Cregan chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your irritation flare even hotter. "Ah, but you did sit by my bedside," he said, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes. "And I seem to recall you staying there for quite some time. Worrying about me, even."

You shot him a sharp glare, though it lacked the real venom it once held. "You should be thanking the gods you survived, not teasing me for caring whether you lived or died."

"I do thank the gods," he replied, his voice quieter now, more serious. "But I also thank you. You stayed with me, Y/N. I haven’t forgotten that."

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you felt the familiar defenses you had built around yourself begin to crumble. You glanced away, your gaze falling on the gnarled roots of the weirwood tree, trying to ignore the way his words made your heart flutter.

"You’re still a fool," you mumbled, though the edge had left your voice.

Cregan stopped walking, and you felt him gently take your hand, pulling you to a halt. You turned to face him, and in the quiet of the godswood, with only the wind rustling through the leaves, you found yourself caught in his gaze—those deep, grey eyes filled with something you hadn’t allowed yourself to see before. There was no frustration, no anger—only warmth, only want.

"And you’re still the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met," he said softly, stepping closer. His hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine despite the cold air. "But I wouldn’t want you any other way."

You opened your mouth to retort, to say something biting, but the words never came. Instead, you found yourself closing the distance between you, your breath catching as his hand cupped the side of your face. His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek, and the last remnants of the ice between you began to melt.

Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, your lips met his.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though both of you were testing the waters. But the moment your mouths touched, the fire that had been simmering beneath your bickering flared to life. His hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, and your arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss.

Neither of you spoke; there were no more words left to be said. The cold air around you seemed to disappear, muted by the heat that surged between you. His lips were warm and insistent, his body pressed against yours with a need you hadn’t known you could feel.

Without breaking the kiss, Cregan’s hands moved to the ties of your cloak, loosening them with deft fingers. You tugged at his own furs, pushing them from his shoulders, and soon the cold was biting at your exposed skin, but you didn’t care. And neither did he. The warmth of your body, of your fire, was all that mattered to him now.

Your cloak fell to the ground, forgotten among the roots of the weirwood, and Cregan’s hands were on you, pulling at the fastenings of your gown. You gasped as the cold air hit your bare skin, but his hands were there to chase it away, his touch rough and gentle all at once. You tugged at his tunic, eager to feel his skin beneath your hands, and when he pulled it over his head, you marveled at the strength of him, the way his muscles rippled beneath the scars and callouses of a warrior.

Before long, the two of you were bare to the elements, the cold air forgotten as he lowered you gently to the ground. The soft moss beneath you was cool, but the fire in your veins made it bearable. Cregan’s body hovered over yours, his eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice husky with desire, but still full of the respect that had always been there beneath your bickering. "I won’t force this, Y/N."

You stared up at him, your heart racing, and for the first time, you felt no resistance. No walls, no barriers. You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "I’m sure."

With that, he kissed you again, slow and deep, as his body pressed gently against yours. His hands were everywhere—on your waist, your hips, trailing down your thighs, sending sparks of heat through your entire being. When he finally entered you, it was with a slow, deliberate tenderness, his eyes never leaving yours.

The brief flash of pain as he broke your maidenhead made you wince, but he was there, soothing it with soft kisses, his hand tangled in your hair. And then, as the discomfort began to fade, the pleasure took its place, warm and insistent.

You moved against him, your body finding a rhythm as you urged him on with the softest of moans, your hands gripping his shoulders, your legs wrapping around him. His breath came in ragged gasps, his control slipping as he gave in to the fire between you, the primal, unspoken connection that had been building for months.

The cold wind whispered through the trees, but it could not reach you. The warmth of your bodies, entwined beneath the ancient weirwood, was enough to drive it away. Cregan’s movements grew more intense, his lips never straying far from yours, his hands gripping you as though he feared you might vanish.

Your moans mixed with his groans, the air between you thick with the sounds of your love-making, the passion that had been hidden behind walls of ice and words for so long. Every touch, every thrust, brought you closer to a place neither of you had been before, and when the moment came—when your bodies finally reached the peak—you clung to him, your breath ragged, your body trembling with the force of it.

He followed you over the edge moments later, his own release marked by a soft growl that sent shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world seemed to still, the wind quieting, the godswood holding its breath as the two of you lay entwined, the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

Cregan didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Instead, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered your name. You closed your eyes, letting the weight of the moment settle over you, your heart still racing from the intensity of it all.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt truly warm.

The day was crisp and clear, the sky a bright blue canvas that stretched out endlessly above Winterfell. Silverwing, her silver scales shimmering in the afternoon sun, stood in the godswood, shifting her weight restlessly, her wings fluttering with barely-contained excitement. You stood beside her, hands on your hips, grinning as you watched Cregan approach, his expression a mix of wariness and resignation.

"You look like you're marching to your execution," you teased, unable to hide the amusement in your voice. Silverwing gave a low, eager rumble, her eyes fixed on Cregan as though she sensed his hesitation and found it endlessly amusing.

Cregan, on the other hand, didn’t seem to share Silverwing’s enthusiasm—or yours, for that matter. He slowed his approach, eyes narrowing at the massive dragon before him. "I thought I was done with near-death experiences for a while," he muttered, giving you a sideways glance. "But here I am, about to climb on the back of something that could roast me alive."

You chuckled, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his chest. "Oh, don’t be such a Stark about it. Silverwing wouldn’t dream of harming you—not as long as I’m here." You flashed him a grin, though you could tell from the way his jaw tightened that he wasn’t quite convinced.

"I suppose that’s supposed to reassure me?" he asked, glancing up at Silverwing’s massive head as she tilted it curiously toward him.

"Well, it should," you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "Besides, she likes you. Remember how she likes to nudge you? If a dragon doesn’t like you, trust me, you’ll know."

Cregan swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back to Silverwing’s gleaming teeth. "Comforting."

You laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him closer to Silverwing, whose tail flicked impatiently behind her. "Come on, brave Lord of Winterfell. It’s not every day you get to ride a dragon. You might even enjoy it."

"I highly doubt that," Cregan grumbled, though he allowed you to lead him closer.

When you reached Silverwing’s side, you placed a hand on her flank, feeling the familiar warmth of her scales beneath your palm. The dragon lowered herself slightly, making it easier for you to mount. You turned to Cregan, your smile widening at the sight of him standing there, arms crossed, clearly trying to mask his discomfort.

"Up you go," you said brightly, giving him a playful shove toward Silverwing’s side. "Ladies first."

He shot you a look that could have frozen the Wall, but with a resigned sigh, he began to clamber up the dragon’s side, his movements careful and deliberate. You followed him, slipping easily into the saddle behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist to keep both of you secure.

"You’re going to want to hold on tight," you whispered into his ear, your voice laced with mischief. "Silverwing can be...enthusiastic."

"Great," Cregan muttered, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the saddle. "Just what I needed to hear."

Silverwing, sensing the shift in your posture, gave an eager roar, her wings unfurling in preparation for takeoff. The wind stirred around you, and you felt Cregan tense beneath your arms, his muscles coiled with nervous energy.

"Here we go!" you called out, laughing as Silverwing leaped into the sky with a powerful beat of her wings.

The ground fell away beneath you in an instant, the cold wind rushing past as Silverwing soared higher and higher. Cregan let out a startled curse, gripping the saddle with both hands as if his life depended on it, while you laughed, the exhilaration of flight filling you with a wild sense of freedom.

"Relax, Cregan!" you shouted over the wind, leaning into him. "You’re not going to fall!"

"I’d rather not test that theory!" he shot back, his voice strained as Silverwing dipped suddenly, her wings cutting through the air with effortless grace.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, leaning your chin on his shoulder as the dragon steadied herself, gliding smoothly over the landscape. "See? It’s not so bad, is it?"

Cregan didn’t respond immediately, though you could feel the tension in his body slowly start to ease as the flight became less of a frantic rush and more of a smooth ride. The wind was cold but invigorating, and beneath you, Silverwing hummed contentedly, clearly enjoying the chance to stretch her wings with both of you on her back.

"Alright," Cregan finally admitted, his voice quieter now, though still laced with reluctance. "Maybe it’s not as terrifying as I thought."

You grinned, tightening your arms around him as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. "See? I told you. You’re a natural dragonrider."

"Let’s not go that far," he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a smile.

For a while, you soared together in silence, the vast expanse of the North stretching out beneath you—white fields, dark forests, and the distant peaks of mountains all bathed in the pale winter light. Cregan relaxed more with each passing moment, his breath steadying, though he still gripped the saddle firmly. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your touch, but it wasn’t the frantic rhythm of fear anymore. It was something else—something closer to excitement.

After a while, you guided Silverwing back toward Winterfell, and as the dragon swooped low over the godswood once more, you couldn’t help but tease him again. "I think you might have even enjoyed that a little."

Cregan shook his head, though there was a faint laugh in his voice. "Enjoyed? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Princess. I’m still deciding if I’ll ever do this again."

You smirked as Silverwing touched down with a graceful thud, her wings folding as she lowered herself to the ground. You dismounted easily, then turned to help Cregan down, though he shot you a look as if to say he didn’t need the help.

"I’ll give you credit for bravery," you said, watching as he finally stood on solid ground again. "You didn’t scream once."

"That’s because I was too busy clinging for dear life," Cregan muttered, though his lips quirked in a smile. "But I’m alive, aren’t I? That’s something."

You laughed, stepping closer and placing a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. "You did well. Maybe you’re more suited for the sky than you thought."

He looked down at you, his expression softening as he rested his hand over yours. "Maybe. But for now, I think I’ll leave the flying to you."

You grinned, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Suit yourself. But you’re always welcome to join me."

Cregan chuckled, pulling you closer. "We’ll see about that. But if Silverwing’s happy, I suppose I’ll consider it."

Silverwing let out a soft, approving rumble behind you, and you couldn’t help but smile. "I think she likes having you around."

"Gods help me," Cregan muttered, though there was warmth in his eyes that told you he didn’t really mind.

And as the two of you stood there, with Silverwing watching over you, the cold air seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of your shared laughter and the fire you had ignited between you.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark #hotd cregan #cregan x

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mimasroom2 · 7 months ago

Text

Love on top! ✧～(ゝᴗ ∂ )

Dealer!ellie x reader @ the mall

I’ve been thinking ab how Ellie would be a dealer and has some extra money to spoil her princess ♡

C/w: Not really any? Homophobia mentioned in like one sentence. Kinda suggestive but no smut. Sex toy mentioned like once. Marijuana mentioned like once (at the end). DINA MENTION FUCK YEAHHHH!!!!

W/c: 1k. sorry i just have a lot of thoughts😭

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

- Dealer!ellie who takes you to the mall whenever she feels like it. You never ask because you feel bad for her always spending money on you, but she lovesssssssss to do it.

- She would def buy you guys matching stuff.

- “Holy shit y/n… look at these!” Ellie turns around and has matching Sanrio plushies in both hands. You laugh bc she has them raised like how straight men pose with the fish they catch😭

- “Which one do you want, baby?”

- You pretend to think even though your absolute fav is cinnamoroll.

- She pumps a fist in the air, “FUCK YEAH I wanted pompompurin anyway!”

- She’d walk into any store and buy you guys those goofy ass tshirts that say shit like “I ♡ hot moms” because she gets a kick out of it every time.

- Don’t even get me started on how she’d be in Victoria’s Secret…

- She’d walk behind you with her hands in her pockets, biting her lip as you pick up the most absurdly hot set of bra & panties she’s ever seen.

- When you wanted to try everything on, she’d slip into the dressing room with you so you can have your turn spoiling her by giving her a little show

(˶ > ₃ < ˶)♡

- “Turn ‘round f’me, doll.” You always love how slurred her words get when she’s turned on 🙃 You do what you’re told and do a little twirl. She blushes and grabs your waist from behind, kissing your neck as you giggle looking at the two of you in the mirror.

- “Shit, baby. Gon’ have to buy this all for you so you can waltz around in pretty lingerie all the time.”

- As the two of you leave, she discreetly whispers in your ear “Gonna have to try those panties on for me tonight, mkay?”

- You’d wander into pandora or some fancy jewelry store and she’d be eyeing all the things you look at.

- “Ohmygodddd Ellieeeeee look at how beautiful this necklace is ahhhh!!” You squeal and eagerly point at it.

- “Hey babe, can you get us some auntie annes please?” Ellie smiles at you, “Need me some lemonade from how hot it is today.”

- As you walk away she stealthily buys the necklace you wanted :3. Chatting it up with the salesman n shit, bragging about you and how amazing of a girlfriend you are.

- She’s not afraid to do this bc she knows any homophobia she encounters she can shut down super quick. Perks of being hot and cool😍

- When you finally meet back up with her you’re smiling about the yummy pretzels you got, but your jaw drops when you see the pandora logo bag in her hand.

- You run over to her, “whattttt the fuckkkk Ellie? :0?”

- “Saw my pretty girl looking at it, so I jus’ had to see my pretty girl wearing it.” Is all she has to say in response (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭

- You gasp as she takes it out of the box, “For me?,!?,?,?!! Els, I told you, I don’t need any fancy stuff.”

- “Jus’ accept it, y/n. I like seein’ my princess happy.” She smiles as she puts it on for you :3

- You both sit down and DEVOUR those damn pretzels.

- (I’ve had this song stuck in my head the entire time writing this) The song Love On Top by Beyoncé starts playing, Ellie flashes you a wicked grin and takes your hands to stand the two of you up. The part that goes “You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” plays and she starts jumping around, moving your arms and giggling, not afraid to act like a goofball as long as it’s with you :,)

- If she saw anyone checking you out she’d tap her lips and say “cmere angel.” And give you a cute lil peck >:)

- You guys would walk into Spencer’s, give each other an evil look, and IMMEDIATELY run straight to the back.

- “Holy shit, babe there’s a fucking glow in the dark didlo.” You pretend to have your jaw drop as you wave Ellie over.

- She starts laughing wayyyyy harder than she should, “Whattthefuckkk that’s actually so fuckignfunny BAHAHAHA!”

- “Ellie it’s literally not that funny.” You’re not impressed.

- She gasps, trying to catch her breath, “No nonono no cuz imagine I’m fuckin’ you real good in the middle of the night. All the lights are off. And all you see is this damn glowing dick! Mannnn fuck.” You swear she wipes actual tears from her eyes.

- “Holy shit, do you think it would light up inside you?”

- You smack her on the shoulder 😭

- “Kay… that’s enough of Spencer’s…” you drag her by the hand out of there.

- “One more place I wanna go..” you keep dragging her by the hand.

- “Good.. cuz the malls ‘boutta close, princess.”

- Ellie smirks and scoffs as you guys walk into Claire’s. “Gonna get your clit pierced here or somethin’?”

- You go up to those merry-go-round display things and spin it until you find what you were looking for. “Nah, wanted one of these bad boys for Dina n I.” You show her one of those broken heart necklaces that come together to say best friends. She lets you pay for this one.

- At the end of your day Ellie walks the two of you out into the parking garage. It’s dark, so she pulls her hood up and hunches over to make herself appear more masculine. Not that it’s that dangerous or anything, but she’d probably never forgive herself if something happened to you - even the smallest scratch.

- As Ellie gets into her car, a SEXY ass truck might I add, she hands you a joint so you can relax as she drives you guys home ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

#ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #wlw #lesbian #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #tlou2 #I’m actually gonna scream when is this gonna happen to me

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vmlnrzmp4 · 17 days ago

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𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘢 𝘶𝘱!

itoshi sae

when papa sae denied little natsuki—saying that she's too young for skincare—only makes her pout as she runs out of the bathroom.

"natsuki?" he halted when he saw his princess infront of your mirror, your beauty products scattered, even on the floor and when natsuki turns around, her papa's eyes go wide.

if not papa's skincare, then there's ma's makeup that would make her prettier than she already is.

"'m pretty now!" she says, holding up your lipstick, "papa i wanna make you look pretty too!"

"natsuki, come here," he says as he pulls a damp tissue, crouching down to her level as he starts wiping the makeup off of her face, completely unaware of what's going on in her mischievous little mind.

she smears the lipstick that she held on his cheek, "natsu—!"

"papa blushy blushy!" she giggles, "i wanna do more!"

he sighs. how can he say no to his princess? he really can't.

"what's..." they both froze, "...what's going on?"

little natsuki let's out a sheepish giggle while sae exhales, explaining everything.

you couldn't hold back your laugher, "you look good, sae," more laugher as your stomach start to hurt, making him glare at you.

"natsuki, you don't need makeup," you say as you hold your princess in your arms, "you're already so pretty," you look at sae, "but maybe we can help you if you wanna do skincare with papa so bad."

her eyes brightened, "yay!" she squealed.

later that day, sae ordered the best 3-4 step skincare that's child friendly.

itoshi rin

sakura rushed to her papa who was sitting on the couch who was scrolling through his phone, "papa," she calls.

he raises his eyebrow, seeing her hide something behind her back, "what is it, sakura?"

she giggles, giving him a smile(she doesn't even have all teeth yet she looks so adorable T_T), she reveals an eyeliner.

"sakura," he calls sternly, "what did ma tell you about touching her purse?"

she pouts, "jus wanna make papa pretty," she looks up at him with her pretty doe eyes, "pleaseeeee?" oh and who was rin to say no to her?

"there there..." sakura focuses, her tongue sticking out as she applies the eyeliner crookedly, "aaaaand there! all done! all pretty!" she shows him a little hand mirror, making him huff.

"papa do mine too! wanna look pretty too!"

rin clicks his tongue, telling his princess that she's already pretty. beautiful even, while applying eyeliner carefully.

click! click! click!

both rin and sakura look at the doorway where you stood, taking pictures of him.

"delete."

"no!"

rin had to pin you down after chasing you and even so, he didn't delete those pictures.

isagi yoichi

"papa hold still," yuki scolded, making you chuckle as her papa sheepishly says 'sorry princess.'

he waited patiently as yuki applies obnoxious amount of blush on his face while you record the whole process.

for a final touch, she picks up the brown eyeliner, tapping so many spots on his nose as cheeks as freckles.

"done!" she cheered.

then it was yoichi's time to put makeup on her, and sadly, he was very poor at it but you were there to guide and even if he messes up, yuki wouldn't mind one bit.

"there you go," yoichi leans back to look at her, "my princess."

"ok, one...two...three!" you click the picture of both of them smiling ear to ear and yoichi didn't mind you posting it on your socials.

#FrecklesAndFun

liked by bachirathecoolestxx and others...

kuronaaaaaaa: isagi isagi pretty pretty

hiori_yo_official: tutorial when?

bachirathecoolestxx: wowwwww 😍😍🔥🔥😝😝😝😻😻👍👍🤞🤞💥💥

michael kaiser

little anne was legit crying because her ma said that she couldn't get a red liner tattoo like her papa so obviously, her papa had to improvise somehow.

michael took anne's paintbrush, dipped it in water and the red colour as he applied it under her eyes.

"there. all done," he says and anne looks into the hand mirror to she her pretty little face.

"papa."

"yes princess?"

your mischievous daughter grins, taking another paintbrush, dipping it into the paint as she cheekily painted two round circles on her papa's cheeks and one big one on his nose.

he laughs, "what are you doing, princess?"

"making you look pretty!" she concentrates, "aaand finished!"

"do i look pretty?"

"...papa," she holds his hand as she says this, "you look like a clown."

the both of them hear laugher from the hallway. they turn to see as you stood there, arms crossed at you observed them.

"your papa already looks like a clown, he doesn't need makeup for that."

taglist: @anuverse @luciddre @kongkhoi @illyria2004 @passw-0-rd @x3nafix [open]

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georgiapeach30513 · 3 days ago

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Two Good Reasons, Part 13

Summary: Ransom takes Audrey with him and Tatum

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Audrey Huffman

Rating: 🥺🥺

Warnings: Audrey....18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.8K

Series Masterlist

*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Ransom’s fingers tap along his steering wheel as he keeps glancing in his rear view mirror watching the tiny girl. Audrey hugs the doll close to her chest as she looks out her window, but never says anything. Of all the times that he’s been around her, Audrey is rarely silent. Or still. It’s like her little brain couldn’t comprehend her father’s behavior. She is obviously in her head, and Ransom feels out of his element, and misses the sweet bubbly girl she usually is.

“Audi?”

“Hmm?” She asks, slowly looking towards the mirror. Her normal smile isn’t present on her mouth, she just stares quietly. Her face is too solemn for a child’s. Despite her size her eyes show the age of someone triple her own.

“I think you should call your mom?” Her brows furrow for a split second before she looks away from the mirror. “Just let her know you’re okay, and tell her what we’re going to do.”

“Do you think,” she takes a deep breath, clenching her eyes close, and he sees a shimmer of a tear bubble at her lashes, “Do you think Daddy has felt the babies before me?”

“I think they’re waiting on the best big sister I know,” her lips tilt up just a small amount, and while it isn’t her normal smile, it was better than her sad pout. “You know how to call her.”

“I’m five,” finally, a little laugh as she covers her hand, stifling her giggle.

“You don’t have to hide your silliness with me, five years old,” he says, passing his phone back to her. She taps on the phone, and puts it up to her ear, “You’re very smart to know her number.”

“I know yours and daddy’s — Andy’s — daddy’s, too. Hey, mommy.”

“Oh, baby,” you sigh, pressing a hand on your chest. “I missed your voice.”

“I missed you,” you’ve never heard her voice sound so defeated. You make a vow to yourself that she will never have to experience that ever again. “Umm, has he — daddy felt the twins?”

“No, baby. Not even Suedey has felt the twins. Where are you heading?” You already know. But anything to distract her from her thoughts is what you’ll do. Keeping her in a conversation so she doesn’t have to worry why her dad was behaving like that.

“Um, Uncle Ann is taking me to a dog shelter. We’ve talked about it, but can I actually get a dog today?”

“Yes, baby. An — Daddy is going to the shelter and filling out some paperwork while you guys eat lunch,” you don’t want to cry, you want to hold her so tightly. Hoping that all the love you have for her can radiate into her body and she doesn’t have to feel any of this turmoil. “Make sure to find you a sweet dog.”

“Well, the dog can be for everyone, but can it sleep in my room?”

“Of course. Remember, you already picked out a spot,” she nods her head, and it’s like this motherly instinct that you know she’s doing it. “Can you do me a favor today, sweetheart?”

“Yes-huh.”

“Can you have fun today?” It’s a tall order to ask when she was made to see her father, and then left there in such a dramatic and traumatic way. But she’s with her Uncle Ann. She’ll have Miss Tatum, and the prospect of a new dog. One she has talked about. Her little protector.

“I will try,” her voice deflates again, and you need her in your arms. “Is Suede taking a nap? It’s quiet there.”

“No, he went with Daddy. I’m making us some soup for dinner. Make sure to ask Ann and Miss Tatum if they want to join, okay?”

“Oh, yes! I will. I will like that very much. Mommy, I think we’re at Miss Tatum’s apartments,” her voice goes into a soft whisper, and you hear Ransom chuckle. “He knows where my teacher lives. Uncle Ann, have you been here before?”

“Yes, princess,” Audrey giggles, and it comforts you knowing she is becoming herself again.

“Why are you driving to my teacher’s house?!”

“Why are you worried about it?”

“Mommy, I gotta go. I can’t stay in the car, and Uncle Ann can’t either. We have to be professional and walk up to her door, okay?” Andy had taught her that. The way he wants to show your sweet girl how people should treat her is the sweetest thing.

“Okay, my beautiful girl. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Audrey hangs up the phone, and lifts it up for Ransom before she unbuckles her seat. Waiting so patiently for him to open her door, and immediately she lifts her hand for him to hold. “How many times have you been here?”

“I am not answering that question.”

“Have you had a slumber party with Miss Tatum?”

“Not answering that one either.”

“Have you kissed her?”

“Not on the mouth.”

Audrey gasps, stopping in her tracks as she looks at him. “What does that mean?”

“I kissed her cheek,” she stares up at him through squinting eyes, not fully believing him. “And her knuckles.”

“Why?”

“It’s a sweet gesture.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to be sweet.”

“Why?”

Ransom laughs, forgoing holding her hand to lift her up, and hold onto her. “Why are you being so nosy, turkey?”

“You like her don’t you?”

“Describe like?”

“You want to kiss her lips.”

“Yes,” both lips. Audrey grins so big, and quickly hugs Ransom.

“Hmm, so this date — are you using me to be cute?”

“What do you know about that?”

“I know that daddy says that me and Suede were a cute positive for wanting to date mommy and kiss her on the lips. Sooooo, we worked on him,” Ransom shakes his head. Even if she and Suede weren’t part of the equation, that man is always going to be devoted to you. He’s never seen a man pine after a woman the way he did you.

“Andy has always been in love with her. He always mentioned to me about the one that got away, and the reason he never married before your mommy,” Audrey gives a giggle, leaning into Ransom, and resting her head on his shoulder. The cute factor really worked on Ransom.

He never saw kids in his future, much less kids that weren’t his. He never saw working this hard for a woman. Or imagining himself being with someone and having children. But if they could be as amazing and perfect as Audrey and Suede, surely it can’t be so bad.

“Oomph, Audrey,” Ransom groans as Audrey plops in his lap at the restaurant. She pulls her coloring sheet and crayons over in front of her, while Ransom smiles up at the swooning Miss Tatum. She has been extra smiley, and giggly with Audrey present. The cute factor must be working on her, “What are you doing, princess?”

“Have you sat in Uncle Ann’s lap before?”

“I can’t say that I’ve had the pleasure,” Tatum smiles at Audrey, but peeks up at Ransom. He looks even more handsome with a child in his lap. It just looks right.

“Don’t sit in his lap,” Audrey says, picking up a green crayon.

“Oh,” Ransom shakes his head at Tatum, and quickly gives Audrey a kiss to her head. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m his girl,” she drops the crayon in front of her, and leans back into his chest, showing dominance over his lap. “You can be the girlfriend, but remember, I am his girl. And I sit in his lap. Not you, okay?”

“I will never sit in his lap, Audrey,” Ransom’s face falls while he looks at Tatum, “But is it okay if I sit beside him?”

“Hmm,” Audrey’s finger taps along her chin as she smiles. “If I’m not here. If I’m here, I am in between you two.”

“Can I sit in his lap if you’re not around?”

“No! You’re not listening, his lap is for me,” she taps a finger on the table, and leans forward. “Do you want to kiss Uncle Ann?”

“Audi,” Ransom groans, realizing this is becoming less cute by the second.

“Because he wants to kiss you,” Ransom covers her mouth with his hand, making both Tatum and Audrey giggle at his embarrassment.

“Okay, princess, that is enough from you. We don’t need to be talking about this before lunch. Look, it’s a cheese straw. Try it.”

“I would very much like to kiss, Uncle Ann,” Audrey pulls Ransom’s hand off her mouth where they both gape at Tatum.

“Yeah?” Ransom sheepishly smirks, and his cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink.

“Then you will have to get married. My mommy and daddy got married. But — they did kiss before then. Hmm, I may have this backwards. Okay, you can kiss him,” both Ransom and Tatum nod too quickly. Looking up at each other smiling, and she leans over the table. “Not right now! No, you don’t start kissing while I’m here. You can kiss when I’m not here, and if I walk in and see you it’s okay. But don’t do that while I’m here.”

“Princess, I think you’ve been around your parents too much,” he mouths an ‘I’m sorry,’ to Tatum, but she is beaming at him. She’d never seen Audrey be so open with him. And he cares for her. It’s a simple bond, but strong. And it makes her melt. She’d been feeling for Ransom, but seeing him with a child solidifies it.

“Do you love him?”

“Audrey,” Ransom warns, gritting his teeth.

“I think it’s too soon for us to talk about love, Audrey. But what I can say is that I really like him. And I like him a little bit more seeing just how sweet and patient he is with you,” Audrey smiles, wiggling in his lap. The cute factor. At least she can turn on the charm.

“See, I told you that the cute stuff works well.”

“So did you and Uncle Ann plan this to get my attention?” Audrey peeks back at Ransom, shaking her head more at him than her teacher. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“There was an incident, and I needed time with Uncle Ann.”

“An incident?”

“It’s nothing,” Ransom lays his arm over the table, and grips Tatum’s arm. “Well, her parents have got it under control, and Audrey doesn’t have to talk about it.”

“It’s okay. I just don’t want to be around my Scott dad. He’s not very nice right now. But Uncle Ann is taking me to get a dog to help with my emotions,” Tatum gives Audrey a regretful smile, flipping her hand up to hold onto Ransom’s. “I have a good mommy and daddy though. It’s okay if I call Andy daddy, right?”

“I think you, Suede, and the twins are the only ones allowed to call him that. I tried one day, and he didn’t like it,” Ransom laughs, thinking about how irritated Andy got with his constant ‘Daddy’ all day long.

“You shouldn’t call him daddy, you’re older.”

“Only by six months. Oh, look, your grilled cheese and fruit are here. You want to slide over,” Audrey shakes her head no, smiling, and reaches for a strawberry. “I guess you’re sitting in my lap for lunch,” and she nods again. “Enjoy your non-plant cheese and pineapples.”

“I just have to make sure I wash my hands really good, Miss Tatum. It’s okay.”

Ransom lets Audrey run ahead in the shelter, while he quickly grabbing onto Tatum’s hand, and he weaves his fingers with hers. The new iPad mini was already ordered, and being delivered to your house, so now he gets to lazily watch a little girl happily look at dogs.

“Uncle Ann! I need them all!” She gives him a little pout, looking up at him. “Please?”

“No.”

“We could keep some at your house.”

“No.”

“You don’t want a dog in your bed?”

“No.”

“But you sleep alone, you need something to keep you cozy.”

“No.”

“Ugh,” she grumbles, turning to walk deeper into the little babies. Taking a brief moment to look at each one. Smiling and waving at them before continuing on her journey. “Daddy said when I know, I’ll know, and I just don’t know. I should take them all.”

“No.”

“You’re being no fun.”

“And you’re acting like a dramatic Suede,” Audrey holds a hand up to her mouth and giggles. Stopping her dramatic ways as she looks some more. “I do sleep alone.”

“I know you do, Ran,” Tatum knocks into him with her shoulder. “We’ve fallen asleep talking to each other.”

“I’m just saying — the kid has been laying it on thick, and I did not ask her for that,” his free hand goes up as he shrugs, “I think she just knows that I like your company.”

“So…if I were to have a slumber party at your house, would I get to sit in your lap?”

“That depends,” Ransom smirks, and his cheeks start turning a bright pink. “The princess can’t be there.”

“Of course not.”

“I’d need to kiss you first.”

“And I’d prefer to sit on your lap with no clothes,” Tatum says before dropping his hand, and quickly running up to Audrey, while Ransom stands there gulping. He blows out a long breath of air as he watches the most amazing woman he’s ever met squat down to see what the cutest little girl he’s ever met is staring at.

“Uncle Ann, it’s her,” she stares, pointing at a kennel. “Daddy said I would know, and I know.”

“Ma’am,” Ransom spins to look at the worker, “Can she hold this dog?”

“I don’t need to hold her, that’s her,” he walks over to the two of them, and the dog, and Audrey sits on the floor, scooting forward, and holds out her hand. A little chocolate lab. She isn’t quite a puppy puppy, but still small enough to learn and grow with Audrey. “I need her.”

The little dog licks at her hand before starting to scratch at the kennel, “See, she wants me,” looking up at Ransom, he gulps again. Her eyes look so round as she stares at him. Glittering with the tears that fill in. “I need her.”

“This is our little Rosie,” Audrey awws, as she scoots back for the door to open. As soon as it’s open enough the sweet puppy trots to her lap, and crawls on top of her. “Funny,” she smiles watching the puppy lick all over Audrey’s cheek. “Your dad was in here earlier with your brother. He ran off from him, and came right to this kennel. Your dad mentioned he hopes you picked her.”

“I love her,” Audrey giggles as the dog keeps rubbing her scent on her. “My little Rosie.”

“She won’t always stay little. She’ll be a big dog, but not giant, huh, angel?” The employee gives the dog a few head scritches before standing up. “Okay, well, we’ve got the carrier for you. Your dad is a very thorough and smart man. You are one lucky little girl, Miss Barber,” Audrey’s face lights up as she looks up at her, and snuggles the dog closer to her.

“Come on, Rosie. Uncle Ann is going to take us home. Miss Tatum, can you come with us? Mommy said she’s making soup. I know it’s still pretty cold, but we have games we can play inside. Me and Suede still need help, but we’re good players. Can you?”

“I think I would love that,” she smiles, standing up with Ransom. She extends a hand down to Audrey who smiles, standing up as well.

“Your dad left a pink collar and leash as well. He said it’s your favorite color.”

“My daddy knows everything about me because he loves me. He’ll love you, too, Rosie. And you can sleep in my bed. And you have so much space to run around. And Suede is funny. And my mommy is so good at making food. Come on, Uncle Ann. I want to see if I can feel the twins. She’ll let you touch her belly, too, Rosie. We’re going to be first though, not daddy, okay?”

She had a traumatic day with a beautiful start to the end of her trauma with her dad. Surrounded by people that love her, and now a dog that she can hold. A dog that can learn to read her stressors and anxiety spikes. Hopefully, she won’t have to continue to be around Scott. She can start to heal from her past traumas. Learn to cope, and live with a man that will do anything to protect her, and make sure she’s happy.

Ransom knows that Audrey will be okay. He also knows that Scott’s reputation continues to tarnish. He’ll choose himself over his children. He’s already proven as much with Suede when he gave him up. Now if he’ll only learn to let Audrey go as well. That way she could officially be Miss Audrey Barber. Until then she can be excited and giggle over her new best friend Rosie.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

@hisredheadedgoddess28 @capswife

#two good reasons #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfics #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fics

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recycledmoviecostumes · 9 months ago

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These amber necklaces made their first appearance in the 1998 film Elizabeth, where they were worn by several ladies-in-waiting, including Kelly Macdonald as Isabel Knollys (pictured) and Emily Mortimer as Kat Ashley.

Because quite a few were made, all of the necklaces documented here may be "different," though they all clearly come from the same set. Thus, for the purposes of documentation, Recycled Movie Costumes considers them "the same."

In 2003, one of the necklaces appeared on the cover of Philippa Gregory's The Queen's Fool. In 2007, it was seen on another book cover - this time photoshopped red on Alison Weir's Innocent Traitor.

In 2009, the necklace was worn by Carice van Houten as Maria Oldknow in From Time to Time.

In 2010, one necklace was worn by Joanne King as Jane Boleyn née Parker, Viscountess Rochford in the fourth season of The Tudors, and later that same year, two of the necklaces were worn by Fiona Hampton as Lady Matilda in The Sarah Jane Adventures.

In 2016, Claire Cooper was spotted wearing one of the pieces as Anne Boleyn in Six Wives with Lucy Worsley.

In 2021 it was worn in The Boleyns: A Scandalous Family on an extra playing Margaret of Austria, before being used in 2024's Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light, where it was seen around the neck of Lilit Lesser as Princess Mary Tudor.

#the tudors #elizabeth #wolf hall #from time to time

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flagbridge · 1 year ago

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"There will never be a day when I won't think of you."

Paige Blankson as Christine Daaé in Phantom of the Opera, West End Revival, 2023 (also feat, James Gant lurking in the mirror) , @lasagnatrades, master.

Farewell, Paige. It seems like this year's Christine alternate, Paige Blankson, has quietly left the London cast. There have been no social media posts about her departure, and she's been removed from the website. It's not clear why--she has only done a handful of shows since October after otherwise nearly perfect attendance. Wishing her happy trails and the best in everything.

I tried, but never got to see her live. Fortunately, there are several videos of her portrayal of the Swedish soprano. She seemed to be like a sweet Disney princess lost in the Paris Opera, ready to sing amongst the birds, and who genuinely cared for the Phantom because her Christine was compassionate and kind. I loved how she smiled when the Phantom appeared--if you look at my Gantom gifset, you also see her smiling during First Lair a bunch.

She was a pleasure to watch and a difference amongst other 2023 anglophone Christines in how she approached the character. She was one of only a handful of Black Christines ever, and for a time we had Christines of color in both New York and London (Emilie Kouatchou, Kanisha Marie Feliciano in New York, Lucy St. Louis in London, and then Paige as alt after Holly-Anne Hull became principal). (Also--Phans correct me/add here if I'm missing anyone)

There should be a new Alternate announcement soon, and Colleen Curran will likely be going on Tuesdays and Fridays for a bit as Eve Shanu-Wilson announced she's going on vacation. Paige had a lot of promise and whatever reason she needed to step back, the Phans are supportive. Cheers, Paige!

#paige blankson #disney princess christine #phantom of the opera #poto #poto london #poto west end #poto west end revival #christine daae #gifset #james gant #christines of color

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theroyalhouseofwindenburg · 8 months ago

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The Domino Effect

Following Dorthea's passing, The Dowager Queen Margaery's health declined. And by the winter of 1354, she was seemingly nearing her final days. Her bedchamber was filled with priests, nuns, and her closest family, as they all loyally stood by her side. Margaery sat up in her bed and called for her grandchildren. Princess Augusta first came to her, kneeling at her side.

"Augusta, you are a vision of grace and strength. I am so proud of the woman you've become," Margaery spoke softly, her eyes filled with love as she gazed at her granddaughter. "Your beauty is a reflection of your grandmother, Queen Anne. I see her spirit shining through you," Margaery continued, a hint of sorrow in her voice. "I am sorry for the pain caused by my son's actions against you, your mother, and our family. It weighs heavy on my heart."

"But do not let my passing hinder your path, Augusta," she urged, her voice gaining strength as she caressed her cheek. "Go to Tartosa, you are to be Empress one day, and let love and diplomacy mend what has been broken. Your future is bright, my dear, and nothing should stand in its way." With tears in her eyes, Augusta moved to the side. King Edward walked to his grandmother's bedside, taking her cold and frail hand into his. Margaery looked into Edward's eyes with a sense of peace, her hand trembling as she reached for her grandson's. "Edward, in your hands rests the crown's unwavering legacy. Let the realm feel your benevolence, as my Wilhelm once did, for kindness and devotion are the strongest swords," Margaery whispered weakly.

Edward clasped her hand gently, his eyes reflecting the weight of her words. "I will do my utmost, to honor both you and my grandfather's legacy. I pray that I can bring as much light to the realm as you both once did."

With a faint smile, Margaery continued, "Your grandfather would be proud, just as I am, for your reign shall mend the scars of your fathers mistakes. Seek a queen whose heart mirrors your resolve, for in her lies the future of our line."

Edward nodded solemnly, his determination shining through. "I will find a queen who shares our vision, one who will stand by my side as we steer our realm under the Watcher's guidance."

Margaery's voice grew softer, yet carried a firmness that belied her frailty. 'The crown must never falter, Edward, for it is the beacon that guides this realm,' she reminded him. 'I need to rest now for a while.' Her words were gentle, yet weighted with the knowledge of impending farewells. As Edward leaned in, she whispered to him, 'Remember always, I love you dearly."

In these moments, Margaery also imparted a crucial decision. The Kingdom of Effenmont, a jewel off the coast of Windenburg that had come into her possession after her father's passing years prior, would pass to King Edward upon her eventual departure, becoming a state of Windenburg. This gift, intertwined with her love and guidance, would forever shape the realm they both held dear.

As Edward gazed out the window at the falling snow, he felt the weight of centuries resting upon his shoulders, each snowflake a whispered reminder of the legacy he must uphold, the mistakes he must correct, and the future he must forge for his realm and his people.

In the early hours of the morning the following day, Margaery lay on her bed, her eyes fluttering open slightly as she weakly called out for Edward. He hurried to her side, his heart heavy with impending loss, yet he masked his emotions with a calm demeanor.

With a stern but loving expression, Margaery reached out for Edward's hand and whispered, "Do not forget what I've told you, The crown must never fall."

Edward nodded solemnly, his eyes reflecting determination and sorrow. "I won't forget, I promise."

As Margaery attempted to sit up, a sharp pain pierced through her chest, causing her to gasp. She cried out for a priest, her voice strained yet resolute. The priest rushed to her bedside, offering prayers and comfort as Margaery lay back, her breaths becoming shallower.

In her final moments, She whispered her late husband's name, a final farewell to the love of her life. "Wilhelm?" she breathed, her voice barely audible amidst the hushed room. Her eyes slowly closed, and the priest, after a brief examination, turned to the King with a somber apology, saying, 'I'm sorry, Your Grace. she has passed.' The room fell into a solemn silence, the weight of Margaery's legacy lingering in the air."

Edward stood by the foot of the bed, his gaze fixed on Margaery's frail form. The soft glow of candlelight danced across the room, casting a somber ambiance that mirrored the heavy emotions in Edward's heart. Though surrounded by loved ones and attendants, he felt an unyielding solitude settle upon him, as if the world had receded into a distant murmur, leaving only him and his grandmother in that final moment.

In the days that followed Margaery's passing, a wave of sorrow swept through the kingdom as news of her departure spread like wildfire. Citizens from all walks of life, from the bustling markets to the quiet countryside, made their way to Westsimster Abbey, their solemn faces a testament to the deep respect and admiration they held for their departed queen.

Inside the grand halls of the abbey, a scene of profound mourning unfolded. The royal family stood together, their heads bowed in reverence, as they surrounded Margaery's peaceful figure. She lay adorned in her finest regal attire, a testament to her grace and dignity even in death. Her robes, woven from the finest purple satin, cascaded around her in gentle folds, accentuated by the soft gleam of ermine furs that spoke of her regal lineage.

A crown, symbolizing her reign and legacy, graced her brow, its jewels catching the flickering candlelight and casting a radiant glow upon her serene features. Despite the weight of grief that hung heavy in the air, Margaery appeared as if she were merely slumbering, her expression one of tranquil repose. As Edward approached Margaery's resting place, his heart heavy with sorrow, he found solace in the memories of her unwavering strength and kindness. With a voice touched by emotion, he spoke to the gathered mourners:

"We stand here today not just to mourn the loss of a queen, but to honor the legacy of a matriarch whose love and wisdom guided us all. Margaery was not just a ruler; she was the heart and soul of our family, a beacon of grace and compassion in times of turmoil. Her absence leaves a void that can never be filled, but her legacy of unity and empathy will continue to inspire us as we navigate the path ahead. Let us remember her not with tears of sadness, but with gratitude for the light she brought into our lives."

Following her funeral, Margaery was placed in her coffin and carried beneath the grand halls of Westsimster Abbey. There, in the dim light of the crypt, she was laid to rest beside her late husband, King Wilhelm IV. The royal family gathered around her final resting place, their faces etched with grief as they mourned her one last time.

The chamber echoed with the soft sounds of weeping and whispered prayers, a testament to the deep loss felt by all. As the moment of farewell drew to a close, they began to exit the chamber, their hearts heavy with sorrow. King Edward lingered at the entrance, his eyes cast downward in despair. His mind was full of emotions, an immense amount of grief, responsibility, and reflection.

He thought of his grandmother's final counsel, the words that would forever resonate within him: "The crown must never falter." The weight of her legacy and the promise he had made felt almost overwhelming in that moment.

As he took his final steps out of the chamber, Edward whispered to himself, "I will not let you down, this crown shall never fall.".

Queen Margaery 1279-1354 (75 yrs)

May the Watcher guide her into the light ♡

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materialki-ff · 1 month ago

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period drama list (2000-2025)

a/n: Beim Durchstöbern von einigen Faceclaim Listen auf Tumblr fiel mir auf, dass ich total viele Filme und Serien gar nicht kenne und vielleicht geht es einigen von euch genauso. Daher dachte ich mir, für alle, die sich gerne einen period drama fc für boaf suchen möchten oder auch Interesse an The Voice of the Rose von @shellyscosplay haben, sei das sicherlich ganz praktisch. c: Hoffe ich zumindest. Einige europäische und koreanische Produktionen sind auch mit dabei. Aber sicherlich sind mir auch einige Filme und Serien entgangen. Es gibt definitiv zu viele Werke, die The im Titel tragen. 😅

100 Days my Prince (2018)

1899 (2022)

A,B,C.

Anna Karenina (2012)

Anne with an E (2017)

Beecham House (2019)

Becoming Jane (2007)

Becoming Elizabeth (2022)

Belgravia (2020)

Belle (2013)

Bridgerton (2020)

Borgia (2011)

Charité (2017)

Cinderella (2015)

Crimson Peak (2015)

D,E,F.

Die Glasbläserin (2019)

Dickinson (2019)

Doctor Thorne (2016)

Downton Abbey (2010)

Eiffel (2021)

Emily (2022)

Emma (2009)

Emma (2020)

G,H,I.

Great Expectations (2023)

Harlots (2017)

Howard’s End (2017)

J,K,L.

Jamestown (2017)

Jane Eyre (2011)

La Belle et la Bête (2014)

Little Women (2017)

Little Women (2019)

M,N,O.

Mansfield Park (2007)

Mary & George (2024)

Merlin (2008)

Mirror, Mirror (2012)

Mr. Malcolm’s List (2022)

Mr. Queen (2020)

My Lady Jane (2024)

Northanger Abbey (2007)

North and South (2004)

Nosferatu (2024)

Outlander (2014)

P,Q,R.

Persuasion (2007)

Poldark (2015)

Pride and Prejudice (2005)

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2016)

Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story (2023)

Radioactive (2019)

Rookie Historian Goo Hae-Ryung (2019)

S,T,U.

Sanditon (2019)

Secret Royal Inspector & Joy (2021)

Shōgun (2024)

Sisi (2021)

The Artful Dodger (2024)

The Buccaneers (2023)

The Empress (2022)

The English Game (2020)

The Favourite (2018)

The Great (2020)

The Gilded Age (2022)

The Medici (2016)

The Musketeers (2014)

The Personal History of David Copperfield (2019)

The Pursuit of Love (2021)

The Scandalous Lady W (2015)

The Serpent Queen (2022)

The Spanish Princess (2019)

The Tale of Nokdu (2019)

The White Princess (2017)

The White Queen (2013)

Tom Jones (2023)

Under the Queen’s Umbrella. (2022)

V,W,X,Y,Z.

Vanity Fair (2018)

Victoria (2016)

Widow Clicquot (2023)

Wuthering Heights (2011)

#ffmmff #fanfiktion.de #period drama #period drama list #boaf-ff #boaf-mmff #wie konnte ich Nosferatu vergessen????

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m-jelly · 11 months ago

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Hi, Jelly!! I have an idea for a request based on a movie i watched once. I also love Dragon Levi theme. So…

Reader is s Princess who marries the some hero. During the wedding ceremony, in memory of the feat of his ancestor, she sing a ritual song with which they used to summon the dragon; to everyone's surprise and horror, the dragon actually flies in and carries away the bride. She finds herself a prisoner on a sea island, where she meets a strange young man names Levi.

She is very soon finds out that Levi is the dragon who kidnapped her. He lives in human form, but sometimes against his will he turns into a dragon, and at these moments he cannot control himself.

Levi wants to be human and is afraid of harming reader. She communicates with Levi, teaches him to live like a human being. Meanwhile, Levi falls in love with a girl and trusts her more and more; she, torn between sympathy for man and fear of the dragon. Levi lets the girl go, deciding for himself that he should not be a man, and not understanding how to live further.

Reader returns home. Her wedding is being prepared again, but the girl already understands that she does not want this marriage, since she does not love the groom. At the last moment, the princess begins to sing a ritual song. Levi, on the island at this time, manages to turn into a dragon, flies in and takes princess.

The dragon Levi and reader fly away. On the island, the dragon throws the girl on the altar, but she shows no fear, kisses the dragon and confesses her love to him. The dragon stops... and carefully places his head on her lap.

Several years have passed. Levi and reader live together on the island, their daughter is growing up; since the island is enchanted, they are safe. Reader flies on her dragon husband: he is no longer dangerous to her.

A maiden's call

Levi x fem!reader

Dragon Levi, royal AU, fluff, romance, falling in love, becoming a couple, multiple sections.

Most of the plot is in the ask.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously

After the last bit of your outfit was put on you, a long sigh escaped you. The more you gazed at yourself in the mirror the more your heart ached. It was the princess's duty to marry a just and courageous man. A man had been selected for you and today was the day you would marry him.

As you went to the outdoor temple for your wedding, you couldn't help but think when you saw birds flying. What you wouldn't give to be free like them and fly away. The man you were marrying was handsome, brave and a beloved hero who held a deep affection for you.

The hero gazed at you as your union was spoken about. All eyes were on you when it was time for you to carry out tradition. With a deep inhale you started singing a song to honour the ancestors of yours and the hero's family. The sweet lyrics and your voice drifted through the warm breeze and moved across the ocean to a sleeping beast desperate for love.

Once the song was finished the room was left in silence due to the pure awe the audience was in. A part of you hoped that maybe an ancient dragon would be summoned to take you away, but you knew it was false hope. You turned to the hero right after you sighed.

He offered his hand to you. "Princess."

You reached for his hand but a distant and deep roar made you pause. Both the hero and the King called for you, but you ignored them because more roars were getting closer. A chill went through your body as a deep and loud horn was blown, it was a horn that hadn't been blown in countless years.

A dragon was coming.

Madness and panic set into the people at your wedding. You watched as people began sprinting out of the temple. The hero pulled out his sword and declared to protect you before racing out with the other knights outside the temple. You remained though.

A gust of wind went through the temple as a deep blowing growl rumbled the building. As soon as you turned around you cast your eyes upon a huge black-scaled dragon with the most beautiful steel-blue eyes. It landed on the top of the temple and stared at you.

Warm air surged from the dragon as it breathed out. Entranced by the creature, you slowly reached out for it as you began singing the summoning song to it. Whether it was your imagination or something else, but you could have sworn its gaze softened for you.

The moment was so calming and gentle, but it was ruined by the cry of the hero. The dragon was instantly irritated by seeing the armoured man and launched into action. Its big claw wrapped around you before it pushed up with its wings and shot up into the sky.

You gazed below at your father and the hero shouting for you, but you weren't scared. As the claw of the dragon held you so gently and you travelled across the land, you felt free.

Island life had been rather nice for you. Levi had been sweet as anything to you. It seemed like he was the only other human on the island. When you gazed at him you felt a fire inside you, but there was just something so wonderful about his eyes.

Today was a day out together. There was a sparkle in your eyes as Levi held your hand and pulled you along the path. The way he cared for you moved your heart. All the clothes he made for you were so flattering and flowing on you.

As you rounded the corner you felt breathless at the views before you. Sunlight glistened off the waterfall and pool. Life around the pool was vibrant and hypnotic to you. It was so peaceful being here you weren't sure if you ever wanted to leave.

Levi pulled you closer. "Sit, enjoy."

You sat down and let your aches wash away. "Levi, do you want something to eat? I made sure to pack plenty."

He sat close to you. "Please."

You handed him food you had made just for him and smiled as he tucked in. "You like it?"

"I do."

You reached over and cleaned his cheek. "Cute."

A pink blush covered his cheeks as he stammered your name. "You...I'm...ah..." He panted a little before clutching his chest. "Ngh."

You cupped his face. "Talk to me, Levi. I'm here for you."

He ripped himself away from you and began panting. "I...I'm sorry."

A blast of hot air hit you and sent you into the pool. As you sank slowly you gazed up to see something big and black grow up before looking down at you. Pressure built up in your lungs as you struggled to breathe.

You shot up and gasped in air but felt like the air was sucked out of you right away when the black dragon stared at you. An urge pushed you to reach out towards him, everything was telling you to touch its face.

The dragon pondered your actions before snarling and snapping at your hand. Just as it snapped, you pulled your hand back just in time. With quick movements you started swimming fast and towards the waterfall. Panic and fear burned into your body as the dragon stomped behind you and snapped at the air.

You dove down under the water and began swimming as fast as possible. With a burst of strength, you threw yourself out of the water and through the waterfall. Rocks cut up your legs and hands as you crawled through the cave at the back and pressed yourself against the wall.

The racing of your heart was deafening, it even overpowered the roaring of the waterfall. Even though you placed your hands over your mouth, you felt like he would still hear you and kill you. Tears filled your eyes as you stared at the water.

The black snout of the dragon parted the water. Next, its whole head pushed under the waterfall. Its face moved closer and closer to you. The blue eyes of the dragon were locked onto you. It terrified you to see it get closer. The dragon paused a moment as it seemed to register you.

Smoke wrapped around the dragon and then dissipated to reveal a tired-looking Levi. He stumbled closer to you and dropped to his knees. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he bowed to you.

Levi gripped fit fulls of dirt and sand as he lowered his head further. He mumbled your name. "Forgive me. I cannot control myself in that form." He shook a little. "I don't want to hurt you."

You shifted closer to him. "It's okay, Levi. It's okay."

He lifted his head. "I just want to live like a human."

"I'll help you."

The laughter that came from you was like music to his ears. You had walked into his life and made it better. All he wanted was to keep you with him. His heart was filled with adoration and love for you. It was becoming clear to Levi that he had feelings for you.

It'd been a month since he revealed he was the dragon that took you from the hero. Guilt had consumed him for a while about keeping you here. While living with him, he had you teaching him how to be more human. He loved every single lesson that you gave him.

Today you were reading a book to him as he lay with his head on your lap. He was enjoying every single moment as he read to you. After reading a little, you would stop and ask him about his thoughts. Each answer you gave him made it clear you cared about everything he said.

You closed the book and placed it down on the grass. "Levi."

He sat up and gazed at you. "Yes?"

You smiled at him. "Are you the only dragon?"

He shook his head. "There is an island full of my kind, but I left because I cannot control my transformation. I didn't want to hurt anyone." He lowered his head. "I don't want to hurt you."

You leaned closer and kissed his cheek. "You've never hurt me." You smiled sweetly at him. "Your form scared me at first, but I've managed to keep safe."

He gazed deeply into your eyes. "I don't deserve you."

You hummed a laugh. "Says who? I like being here with you. You make me happy. I've never been happy like this before. For so long I was just drifting through life. When you arrived as a dragon, I felt so excited and free. Thank you for bringing me here."

Levi caressed your cheek. "I wish you could stay with me."

You frowned at his words. "I don't understand what you're saying. What do you mean by that?"

He was in love with you, that was very clear to him. "You need to go home."

Tears filled your eyes as you felt your heartbreak. "You...you want me to leave?"

"It's not safe for you." He stood up. "I'm not safe. I'll end up hurting you."

You shot to your feet. "Please, Levi, don't make me leave." You wrapped your arms around him. "I don't want to go back."

Levi hugged you tightly. "I'm sorry."

You had a thousand-mile stare as you stood before a mirror dressed up in a wedding dress. A week ago you were brought back home and as soon as you arrived, the wedding was put back on track. It hurt your heart to be back and you longed to be back with Levi.

There was no denying it, you had fallen in love with Levi. Marrying the hero was a mistake and you didn't want him at all. You wanted Levi.

Walking to the temple again was all a blur. Seeing the hero next to you with a bright smile made you feel sick. He was handsome and sweet, but he wasn't Levi. No matter how much you tried to think about loving this hero, you couldn't.

As the ceremony started a knot formed in your gut. Everything inside you was telling you to run. Your body began to shake as you felt desperate to flee. You dropped your flowers, turned on your heels and then ran out of the temple as people shouted for you.

You skidded to a stop and began singing the ancient song as loud as possible Deep in your heart you called to Levi. After the song you gazed longingly out at the sea hoping the man you loved would come to you. A gasp escaped you when the hero grabbed you from behind and pulled you back.

You tried to fight the grip that was on you, but it was too strong. Everyone was saying you'd lost your mind or that the dragon had wrapped your mind, but it wasn't true. You were just in love.

A roar rumbled across the sky, your saviour was him. As soon as the hero loosened his grip, you shoved him off and sprinted away. You waved your arms and called out to Levi. A smile spread over your lips when he swooped down, grabbed you with his claw and flew off.

You wrapped your arms around his leg and hugged him tightly. "Levi."

He flew back to his island and cast your body onto a large circle covered in blankets and cushions, it was like an offering spot. He landed before you and crawled closer to you. A deep growl rumbled inside him as he stalked closer to you.

You reached up and cupped his face. "Levi." You smiled at him as tears rolled down your cheeks. "I missed you so much." You leaned closer to his snout. "I should have told you before you sent me away. I'm not afraid of you."

The dragon paused and listened.

"I think you are the most beautiful and wonderful being in the whole world." You hugged his snout. "I love you, Levi. From the bottom of my heart and soul, I love you."

As soon as you kissed his snout smoke wrapped around him and his human form appeared. Levi pulled back a little and gazed at you. "You love me?"

You nodded. "I do."

He tackled you against the covers and cushions making you giggle. "I love you so much. You are my life."

You tangled your fingers in his hair. "I'm never leaving you again."

You held your daughter's hands as she slapped her little feet on the sand. "Good girl, be careful."

Daisy looked up when she saw her dad in his dragon form fly over and land. "Dada!"

Levi lowered his large head and hummed as his daughter hugged his head. "Little flower."

You hurried over and took the bags off him. "Was my father okay?"

Levi became a human. "He is still mad that I kidnapped you." He picked up his daughter. "But he is happy to help because I protect them. Your negotiations were impressive."

"Well, I am a princess and I was taught how to rule."

Levi looked down at his daughter. "Your mummy is so cool."

Daisy clapped her hands. "Mama!"

He chuckled. "She agrees with me." He kissed her puffy cheek. "We should visit my mother soon."

"Sure." You nodded and took your daughter from Levi allowing him to carry the heavy bags to your store room. You danced with your daughter a bit before twirling around with her and into Levi's arms. "Hello, handsome."

Levi leaned down and kissed you. "Hello, my darling." He growled a little and nibbled your neck. "Can we go to the nest tonight?"

You hummed a laugh. "Someone is frisky. Yes, I would love that." You kissed him before looking down at your daughter as she made a little noise. "I think it's playtime first, right?"

Daisy giggled. "Ba, boo!"

#levi ackerman #levi #aot levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #levi x y/n #levi x you #fanfic #levi fanfiction #levi x reader #levi x yn #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #jelly fanfics #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n

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