#saddle island
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lollipoplynnie · 22 days ago
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afkintheark · 4 months ago
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I love baby snow owls, they're so scraggly-looking. XD
Babies are raised, I have our two breeding already and my new improved Druid is in a ball to stockpile levels overnight. Took him on a little test flight first and the extra speed is very nice. \o/
I tamed an argy on Volcano couple days ago so tonight I decided to find a base spot, and I think I've made my choice! It's right above the water there so I can have a water pen whenever I need it. Only problem really is it's on the opposite side of the map from the volcano/wyvern trench.
Still exploring too, I've found several spots that I remember from ASE. I am enjoying the nostalgia. XD
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silkenbabydoll · 10 months ago
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My saddle shoes came in today!!! 😝😝😝
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beatriceportinari · 1 year ago
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funniest thing abt michael is that in the story outside of the archangel i'm pretty sure i actually thought of the name bc of the brother of one of the main girls in the saddle club
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pawphin · 2 years ago
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i dont talk about it much but my obsession with yoshi was absolutely insane
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studiomore · 6 months ago
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The Cupids 47 👼🏼👼🏼🔫 Sky Blue Hoodie
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cabinetmakerqueens · 7 months ago
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Dressing Room Ideas NYC
A dressing room is a dedicated space where you can store and organize your clothing, shoes, and accessories. For many men and women, the ideal dressing room provides a functional and stylish space that can serve as a sanctuary for getting dressed and preparing for the day. At Empire Closets we strive to help you create a personalized space that is tailored to meet your specific needs and wants to best tackle your day!
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afkintheark · 1 month ago
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Got some goblin server pics!
We have the Castles, Forts, and Keeps mod so I had to make our house out of that. The crafting area is mostly made from structures we've gotten out of supply drops so it's very hodge-podge. XD
We are going to need to expand it soon already. Eventually I want to set up specific crafting areas (one for cooking, smelting, woodwork, etc.) but I'm waiting for inspiration before I start on that. >.>
We have some very pretty raptors. Kel bred our first two and got a male baby, so we have a 2m/2f pack now and we're gonna start going after the goblin camps soon. \o/
And Max hit 62 and got the argy saddled, so we finally saddled our carno and doedic, and can do the therizino in a few more levels. I am so happy for smithy saddles. >.>
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andamantrips · 1 year ago
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Saddle Peak in Andaman Islands is something we have mentioned earlier as well. The Saddle Peak is the highest peak of Andamans, as we have unknowingly mentioned this numerous times while you scrolled down till here.
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scarlet-star-witch · 10 months ago
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His Sacrifice
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Summary: Aemond makes the decision to save the one he loves over his brother.
Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter and is in a secret relationship with Aemond
WC: 1.5 K
Tumblr is a piece of shit that deleted the request but to whoever sent this, hope you enjoy xx
Part 2
~~
The screams of men below were almost inaudible over the roar of her dragon. She felt powerful, she felt vindictive, a smug satisfaction washing over her as she decimated the Green army below, the traitors who dared to usurp her mother.
Yet her heart was aching. 
Her eyes scanned the skyline, nervously awaiting Vhagar’s presence, awaiting his presence. 
Her throat tightened and she blinked rapidly to stave off the tears that threatened to fall. She’d cried enough tears over him, over the divide that wedged between them, threatening to break them apart completely. She had to be done. 
A trill made her perk up, looking over her shoulder, her eyes wide, her chest aching, but as she caught sight of the smaller, gold dragon headed her way, her devastation soon turned to anger. 
Aegon. 
Her face shifted, her agony now hatred. Her teeth grit with effort as she pulled at the reins, swooping dangerously close to the soldiers below her, a smirk painting her lips at their cries of terror. 
“Vermithor… attack.”
The dragon below her roared, a mighty sound that shook the bones of those who watched from below. 
She distantly heard Aegon’s call and held onto the handles of the saddle in a white-knuckled grip as she swerved out of the way of the stream of fire Sunfyre spat at her. She winced, flinching away from the barrage of flames that met her too closely. 
The dragons fought a vicious and bloody fight, Vermithor’s talons tearing Sunfyre across her belly, her cries echoing, shaking the ground below. 
Over her dragon’s head that now had the other poor dragon’s neck in his jaws, she met Aegon’s eyes, her gaze alight with hateful glee as she noticed the fear in his eyes. 
But suddenly, his expression shifted, a smile growing as he breathed out in relief. 
Turning, she saw the enormous figure of Vhagar looming forward, like a killer stalking its prey, ready to devour her with ease. 
Her heart dropped, the grip on the reins slipping from her hands, as if she already accepted her fate. 
Swallowing against the lump in her throat that grew, she closed her eyes, refusing to see the look on her lover’s face as he ended her. 
~~
They met in the dead of night, as they always had, meeting on a nondescript island halfway between Dragonstone and King’s Landing. 
He was already waiting for her as she descended from the skies, landing Vermithor beside the hulking figure of Vhagar. 
He was approaching her before she could unsaddle herself. 
His hands were on her before her feet met the ground. 
She was brought into his arms before she could say a word. She embraced him as she always did, desperately, as if it would be their last. With the state of their families, it might just be. 
“Are you alright?” She asked worriedly as she pulled out of his arms, her eyes frantically searching for his face, finding only despair.
“You cannot go tomorrow.” He told her swiftly.
“What-”
“They commanded me to take Vhagar to Rook’s Rest.”
Her face remained impassive as she took in his words, though the storm that raged within her was devastating, shattering every ounce of hopeful excitement she’d felt when she received his raven to meet her that night.
“Aemond, I-”
“You cannot go. Please.” He begged her. 
Her gaze met his and the frantic desperation she saw in his lone eye stirred sadness within her, the divide between their families that had slowly been tearing them apart delivering another fatal blow. 
“I have to. You know I have to.” She answered quietly, mournfully, as if she was already accepting her fate. She couldn’t fight Vhagar, she couldn’t win against him. 
He cursed and took a step away from her, placing his hand over his mouth as he tried hard to rein in his anger, his fear of what would happen to her, to them, as they met on the battlefield.
They always knew it would happen eventually, but it didn’t mean they were ready for it. They had been content to live in a fantasy together, as if they could pretend they weren’t living their reality, that they could’ve lived a happy life together. 
He stepped towards her again, taking her face in his hands. 
“Please, you cannot- I cannot-” He stammered and let out a shaking breath, his tortured gaze locked on hers. “Love, please, don’t go.”
“We always knew this would happen.”
His anger flared at the resolution he heard in her voice, at how quickly she was willing to accept this, that they were to meet on the battlefield, with only one of them returning victorious. He couldn’t accept it, he wouldn’t.
He shook his head wordlessly, his brows furrowed as if in pain. Her arms wrapped around him and he was quick to return the hug, holding her to him tightly. He let out a shaking breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he held her, silently praying it wouldn’t be for the last time.
“We should’ve left while we still had the chance.” She spoke with a small laugh that held nothing but sadness. Aemond nodded, his hands gripping her firmer, his thoughts a mirage of what their life would be if he had taken her up on her offer to escape to Essos all those years ago.
He desperately wished he had agreed. 
“Whatever happens tomorrow-”
“Don’t.” He begged, his heart already aching at the thought of what they would face. 
“Whatever happens,” She repeated more sternly as she looked at him intently. “It won’t change what we have. Nothing will change how I feel about you, even if I cannot feel anything at all.”
He practically shuddered at the thought, the mere notion of losing her too much to fathom and bowed his head until his forehead met hers, their shaking breaths shared. 
“I’ll love you even after the end.” 
He couldn’t hear any more. He kissed her firmly, pouring every bit of love he had for her and had felt for her for years into every caress of his lips, every tantalizing swipe of his tongue, every heated touch that he bestowed onto her beautiful body he had worshiped in secret. 
~~
I’ll love you even after the end
The words echoed in his mind all night. As he left her side to return to King’s Landing before the sun rose, they wouldn’t leave his head, torturing him over and over again, until he felt as though he couldn’t take another breath. 
Now, as he sat atop Vhagar, eyeing the battle in the skies above with bated breath, he knew he had only one choice to make. 
A choice that came all too easily, a choice he would make again each and every time. 
He commanded Vhagar to fly, her large frame taking to the skies slowly, his eye locked onto Vermithor, his heart in his throat as he saw her small frame duck out of the way just in time before Sunfyre’s jaws locked onto her. 
He felt nothing but relief as Vermithor trapped Aegon’s dragon in his jaws, he felt nothing as his brother’s dragon cried out in pain. 
But the blinding rage he felt as he watched Sunfyre swiped her claws against Vermithor’s face, dangerously close to her, made his blood boil.
His hands clenched, his jaw tight, his lone eye dark with resolve as he soon accepted the consequences he would face, the judgment the Gods would place on him. 
But he didn’t care. He would slay his brother if it meant she lived. He would slay millions to save her, without thought. 
“Dracarys!” He yelled, his eye remaining on Aegon who tried to shield himself from the flames that descended upon him. He grunted as Vhagar crashed against Vermithor, harshly nudging the dragon out of the way, Vermithor growling menacingly at Vhagar, before jerking to the side, her command of the reins forcing her dragon not to engage. 
He watched, his heart racing, as she flew away from the scene, away from Aegon as he fell alongside Sunfyre’s broken and burning body. 
He paid little mind to anything else and followed after her. They flew for a few minutes, away from the chaos of battle, away from any prying eyes that would reveal their secret.
He descended just a second after her, landing Vhagar next to Vermithor, his hands shaking as he undid his ties, jumping down his dragon’s frame unsteadily. 
“What the fuck was that?!” She yelled as she stomped towards him, tears in her eyes, unsure of what to make of the emotions overwhelming her. “Do you know what you have just done?”
He ignored her yells and grabbed her hands, pulling her to him, his arms wrapping around her tightly. She squirmed in his grip for a moment, her adrenaline still thrumming through her veins,  before finally giving in as she felt him shaking against her. 
She let out a trembling breath, her arms coming up to wind around him. She let her eyes fall closed as his hand rested on the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. 
“What did you do?” She asked wearily, her voice hoarse and weak with exhaustion.
“What I had to.”
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saddlebums · 2 years ago
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From River to Shore
Memorial Day weekend motorcycling with views from above
I'm starting to get the hang of using my DJI Mini3 Pro drone, trying to throw caution (and not the drone) into the wind. It's small enough to carry with me on my motorcycle (it takes about half of my bike's tail bag capacity), and I'm gradually losing the fear of it flying off into the sunset never to be seen again. Trust your remote control monitor!
In this video I'm traveling a familiar route through the Delaware Valley and eventually getting sky footage above Point Pleasant Borough, NJ, on the Atlantic.
Music: Sleep Walk by The Surf Dogs
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mere-mortifer-writing · 2 months ago
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I've dreamt about you (nearly every night)
Pairing: Sanji x Reader Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 7.900+ words Themes: PWP; huddling for warmth; getting together; mutual pining; fingering; intercrural sex; dirty talking; sub!Sanji, cis female reader Notes: This is my first reader insert fic in this fandom and my first one in general for a long while. I don't use Y/N in here, nor did I add physical descriptions for the reader of any kind (I tried my damn hardest) but she is explicitly a cis woman! Summary: The crew is caught in a storm awfully unprepared for such bad weather. Sanji offers you to take his sleeping bag, but when he's the one left out in the cold, you decide you can't let that happen. Can't you just share, and stay warm together?
Written for @infixop. This is my gift to @jsitmfgoesnsfw. I hope you enjoy it! I tried to put as much things you like in it as possible xoxo
Find me on Ao3
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The cold bites like a starved dog.
You’ve got nothing more than a few inches of your face exposed to the mean night air, and that’s all it takes to freeze you down to your bone marrow despite the tent you’re in. For no longer than thirty seconds, you manage to shuffle lower into your sleeping bag, bathing in your own body warmth, but then the need to look at the silhouette impressed on your tent’s thin sides overpowers you once again.
The two lanterns still lit outside paint Sanji’s figure in a stark shadow. He’s sitting out there, in the freezing cold, keeping an eye out on the Sunny—at least, that’s the excuse he came up with when he gave up his own spot for your comfort. Even with how fuzzy his outline is, you can see him tremble, one foot tapping anxiously on the ground with no respite. He was chain-smoking earlier, but he must have run out of cigarettes at some point.
“Fuck, Sanji,” you utter under your breath. You’re in your little tent, almost cozy in Sanji’s sleeping bag, and he’s fucking dying out there. He’s more sensitive to low temperatures than other members of the crew, and well aware of it. In the morning, before they started exploring this atoll, he’s one of the few that insisted on bringing all the camping equipment the crew is now using.
They had thrown anchor when the sun was still high in the sky, bathing the little alcove and the surrounding forest in the warmth of a spring day, but it took Nami only a moment to study the winds and the cloud patterns above them and declare, with whatever sixth sense she’s been gifted with, that  by night they’d be surrounded by winter weather. She was right—but she undersold it. By a lot.
Zoro—who says any opportunity to survive challenging environments is an opportunity he’ll take—and Luffy—who just couldn’t be bothered to pack properly—barely changed their outfits before leaving the Sunny. You had least layered a bit and brought scarves and gloves with you, but that’s about it.
Meanwhile, Sanji rounded up all the sleeping bags and tents they had, saddling Usopp and Franky with sharing the burden with him. It had seemed unnecessary to bring so much extra weight for what was supposed to be a casual stroll on this little speck of an island, only big enough to keep Luffy’s attention for a day maximum, but thank God he decided to play it safe.
It was like the Sun decided to set early today, aided by a sudden deluge of dark clouds. A blizzard started raging in the distance, right above the poor Sunny, impeding the crew’s safe return to their warm beds and an even warmer meal, so you had to camp out in the open for the night. Neither the snow nor the rain reached the tundra-like stretch of open land you found yourselves in, but the cold was—and is, even worse now—brutal. Chopper was deeply apologetic to be the only one enjoying the situation.
The tents were set up quickly, and they offered a little comfort, but the ground you are all trying to sleep on remains frigid at best. Nami, who borught her own sleeping bag, managed to squeeze Robin right next to her for the night, but there was no hope of letting a third person in.
“Let’s switch. I’ll be okay with sitting nearby and keeping watch, at least for a while,” Robin tried to propose, and from the gasp Sanji let out upon hearing that, one might have thought she just shot him in the chest. 
“Nonsense!” he exclaimed, blonde fringe flying left and right as he emphatically shook his head no. “Mon ange, you take mine. I insist.” 
Your mouth snapped closed at his preemptive rebuttal. In hindsight, you could have tried to manipulate his chivalry and convinced him that sharing was the perfect solution, but in the moment you lacked the courage. Strange how his eagerness to put the women around him on a pedestal has somehow looped around to make him intimidating—for you, at least; Nami and Robin certainly have no such issues. He thinks of you so highly, and the idea of shattering that perception by saying or doing the wrong thing often paralyzes you.
Now, that proposal that died in your mouth is all you can think about. We could sleep together, would you mind? He would have blushed at the double entendre and caved in quickly if you had made your tone sweet enough.
Another minute of your thoughts spinning around the same centre, another minute of running a nail over the edge of your teeth to dispel nervous energy, and you decide that neither you in here, nor Sanji out there, can take any more of this. 
You extend an arm outside of the warm cocoon of the bag, and stretch it as far as you can to open the tent a bit. The sound of the zip raising up a few inches makes Sanji’s silhouette shift as he looks in your direction, and before you can actually call out for him he’s moving closer on his own. 
One gloved hand goes to close the zip again. “Wait, Sanji,” you whisper to stop him. 
He stops trying to pull. “Oh, darling, y-you’re awake?” You can feel your face fall into a grimace at how shaky his voice is. “I thought the wind was making your t-tent open or something.”
“No, no, it was me.” Without having to slip out of the sleeping bag all the way, you try to tap the zip further up and open. A frigid tendril of wind snakes in and makes you wince. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Me? ‘M doing just fine,” Sanji says. Just because he’s lying with ease, it doesn’t mean it sounds convincing. “Was I, uh, keeping you awake…?”
Your heart squeezes in your chest when Sanji lowers his head to peer at you through the opening. He’s trying to bury his whole face in the puffy neck of his coat, but there’s a constant tremor in his jaw like he’s attempting to keep his teeth from chattering. Eyes large and round, darker spots on his cheeks and nose that would be a bright red if colours weren’t so muted by the moonlight—he’s probably the cutest he’s ever been. And so visibly uncomfortable.  
“Come in here for a while.” You meant to first reassure him that he hadn’t woken you, but the invitation tumbles out of you before you can manage. “You must be freezing. Come on, just a few minutes.”
“I don’t want to let the cold in here…” he protests weakly, but you can see that he wants to say yes. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth as you repeat your plea to stay with you and warm up. “I guess—if you really don’t mind—”
You limit yourself to a wide smile when he finally acquiesces, and that’s all you can do to avoid tugging him down to lay on top of you before he’s even managed to fully crawl inside. You watch him as he squats in a spot as far away from you as he can. He takes off his gloves, sighing in relief when they’re not wrapped around his hands any longer.
“We should have all listened to you, we were not prepared well for this weather,” you say softly. You frown when he starts trying to blow warm air on his fingers. “Did your gloves not help you at all?”
“They may have gotten a little wet, it’s really humid outside,” he admits, sending a small but sincere smile your way. 
“Sanji…” you sigh. You hope you don’t sound exasperated, since all you are is pained that a boy you hold so dear was literally left out in the cold like an abandoned puppy, but Sanji still looks a little downtrodden at your tone. “Can you come here, please? Why are you so far away?”
“I don’t want you to get cold!” he reiterates, but still shuffles near you at your request. The groundsheet crinkles under his knees. “Darling, I promise you I’m fine—”
He’s finally close enough that you can grasp one of his hands. You gasp at the complete lack of human warmth in his fingers. Sanji’s hands, so precious to him, almost blue from the cold? And he thinks you’ll just curl up in his sleeping bag and doze off while he suffers? 
“Holy shit, that must feel awful.” You free your other hand and bring it out of the bag enough to gesture that he should let you hold both of his, and he complies easily. The image of him kneeling next to you, hunched over so you can rub some life back into his fingers, while still mostly buried in a plush lime-green sleeping bag must look funny to an external viewer. All you can think about is how to convince him to strip down a little and get in there with you. 
He gently interlocks his fingers with yours when your movements slow down. “That’s so much better, angel, thank you. I’ll change my gloves and be more careful not to get them wet—”
Holding him like this, no matter the context, goes to your head. “No way I’m leaving you to freeze.” Before you can consider if the move is too revealing, you swipe your thumbs down the line of his index fingers, trying both to soothe him and draw him closer by the sheer strength of your longing alone. “You don’t have to keep guard or anything, you can just use your Observation Haki—”
“I promised Nami-san…” he protests, eyes downcast to stare at where you’re touching. You can’t tear your gaze away from his face—from the redness, first induced by the cold, now spreading all over from being alone with you. 
“Not true, you told Nami you’d stay awake and keep an eye out. You think she wants you to die of hypothermia or something?”
Sanji sighs. “No, of course not. And I guess if I catch a cold I won’t be able to properly take care of my favourite ladies.”
That drags a smile out of you. Sanji never misses an opportunity to act too cute for his own good. “Think of it however you need, as long as you get in here quickly.”
“In where?” he asks, one curled eyebrow raising tall on his forehead. “In there?”
“It’s your sleeping bag, and there’s some more space in here,” you try to explain. A good dose of mortification falls like lead into your stomach. Was that too forward? Have you been pressing too hard on the topic this entire time?
Sanji’s mouth hangs open for a moment, and his hands go slack in your hold. You take it as a sign to release him, some more of your courage waning. “More space—to fit both of us? In there? Together?”
“Sanji,” you groan, shuffling deeper down into your cocoon, hoping at this point that a portal will open at the bottom of it and swallow you whole. 
You can’t get over the embarrassment now that Sanji is acting so bewildered by the notion. Part of you, no matter how much insecurity you harbor about Sanji desiring you as much as you desire him—at times the thought feels absurd— believed he’d jump at the chance to get in bed with a girl, even just to sleep.
“No, hey, don’t hide! Come back up, darling,” Sanji coos. “I don’t want to say no, obviously.” Maybe he read your mind. “Why would I want to say no to such a wonderful offer?” Or maybe that strangely confident part of you was right. 
“Come in here, then,” you say without reemerging from the depths of the plush fabric. You realise anew how warm it is under there, and your blood starts pumping faster at the thought of Sanji squeezing in next to you and cuddling close to share that warmth. “So we can both sleep.”
“I—okay. I need to take off some of my clothes, is that okay? Or you’ll be the one freezing.”
You nod before you remember that he can’t see you. “Y-yeah, no problem.” He could strip naked and let you kiss every inch you can reach in such proximity—that would be ideal—but you’ll take a Sanji with three layers on over no Sanji any day of the week. 
You listen to the sounds of shuffling, metal buttons popping open, and quiet curses when his coat drops to the floor and Sanji can feel the cold tenfold. You pretend you’re being very patient, but the way you’re tapping the toes of one foot against the others tells another story. 
“Darling?” he calls, hesitating after he’s taken his shoes off. “My trousers are kind of damp, I can’t—”
“Take those off, too, then,” you interrupt him with the most indifferent, placid tone you can fake. Sanji wears shorts sometimes, when they’re in a stretch of hot weather on the Grand Line, but even his swimwear is usually on the longer side and quite baggy. You’ve only ever seen a few inches above his knees, so your excitement at the prospect of seeing his bare legs borders on comical.
Not that you see much of anything now, either. Sanji manages to take off his pants while hiding most of his body from view, as if he needs to be ashamed of anything, with a physique like his, and the dim light blurs the details of what you can observe. You think his boxers have a heart print on it, but it’s not a safe bet. 
Sanji crawls closer to the edge of the sleeping bag, and you signal once again that he should get in by unzipping the side. “Thanks,” he says, voice huskier than his usual. 
Your breath stays suspended in your lungs as he slips inside next to you. Despite his efforts to not touch you, the space he’s trying to squeeze himself into is smaller than a single bed, and your sides slide together as he lays down. He murmurs a few sorry’s as it happens, but his earlier protests seem to have died down completely.
When the warmth has had a moment to sink into him, he lets out a tremulous sigh of relief—it’s obvious that he needed a break from the harsh weather, and still he never would have asked for it. Your heart constricts painfully at the tremors that shake Sanji's body. He's still trying so hard to keep his teeth from chattering, but there's little he can do for everything else. 
“You've got to stop,” you beg. There's enough anger over Sanji's self-sacrificing tendencies to turn it into a command. 
Sanji tries and fails to shuffle back within the confines of the sleeping bag. “Sorry,” he whispers shakily, “it should get better soon.”
Frustration and fondness form an unlikely mix that grips tight around your throat. “No, no, Sanji, come on.” You move a foot blindly, hooking it around Sanji's calf to still his retreat. “I didn't mean stop shaking or moving. Stop doing stuff like this to yourself.”
“Ah, Mellorine—” Sanji mumbles, and you know, you feel it in your bones, he's going to try and downplay his near-hypothermia and shower you with compliments to deflect your worry. Be it the late hour, the pressure behind your eyes that demands you close them and sleep; be it how cold Sanji still feels or the sweet ache in your bones at being so close to him—whatever it is that imbues you with courage, you decide you won't let him get away with that this time. 
“I don't wanna hear it.” You were hoping to get it out with a firmer tone, but you sound on the verge of tears instead. “Shut up and let me help.”
You reach out, fingers bumping into his shoulder, the soft material that surrounds you pushing and pulling. It seems more than happy to get you closer, folding over your bodies as you shift enough to feel Sanji's chest on yours. 
Shielded by the shadows that cover your face, your lids flutter at the novel sensation. You'd feel ashamed of the tendrils of pleasure slowly pulsing in time with your heartbeat, since, after all, you got this man in your sort-of bed for medical-adjacent reasons, but…it's Sanji. He's never shown anything but breathless gratefulness at being touched by a woman. 
Just in time to squash any lingering doubt, you hear his breath hitch at the contact. He dissolves into a long shiver that breaks his resolve, and suddenly you're gripping him tighter, nose in his fine hair, knees knocking together before you raise one thigh over his. 
Sanji moans softly, in obvious and innocent pleasure now that your body heat is enveloping him properly. “Oh, ‘t feels so nice,” he stutters over your neck, “you really are an angel. Thank you, darling.” 
You almost thank him back on instinct. You might feel nice to him, but he's perfect in your arms, cuddled up as best as he can against you like he wants to sink into you. Gladly, you hold him tighter, burning up now that you have him in such close proximity—your face might as well be on fire, heart pumping hot blood like an overworked engine. He must be able to hear it. Surely all the layers of clothing between you are not enough to muffle the sound of it exploding out of your ribs. 
“You're so silly,” you mumble instead. His hair smells superficially like faint smoke, and like artificial mint from his shampoo when you brush your nose between the soft locks. “Your hands okay?”
You barely bite back a pet name at the end of the sentence. Sanji shuffles to get his arms folded between the two of you, and his closed fists are frigid when they bump into your stomach. “Mh, they've felt better, but it's okay. I’m also pretty sure my toes are all attached, but who knows—’t’s not like I can feel them.” 
You huff a laugh, and his face opens into a boyish smile. You can't see it, only sense his cheeks where his face is touching the naked skin of your neck. ”You joke, but we better check.” At the bottom of the sleeping bag, where there’s more room for movement, you have to swipe your own feet forward before you manage to meet his. Sanji, for all his insistence on being ready for bad weather, hadn’t bothered with proper boots or heavy socks. You hiss in sympathy at how cold his naked ankles really are when you touch them. 
“Sanji, your leg can catch on fire, how did it get this bad?” you mumble into his hair. 
Sanji’s little content sigh that he lets out when your warmer skin stays in contact with his just about breaks you. “I gotta be at least a little mad for the fire thing, Mellorine,” he explains, dismissing the topic with a gentle shake of his head. “You shouldn’t worry so much about me, I’ll be just fine. Don’t let me keep you awake any longer, please.”
You bite your bottom lip to hold back your own plea, wishing you could infuse the very air around the two of you with all that joyful, desperate fondness Sanji evokes in you. He could soak it all up, too tangible to doubt, and he’d feel soothed and weightless as if he’d just lowered his tired body into a hot bath. Frightened as you are to speak your feelings for him out loud, the best you can do is fumble to hold his hands. “We’ll both rest when you’re all better.” Before you can second-guess your intentions, you bring Sanji’s hands under the hems of the shirt and tank top you’re wearing. The first overwhelming impression is that you just shoved ten icicles up against your flank, but the knowledge that a part of Sanji’s body you’ve fantasised about one too many times is now under your clothes is enough to make you melt. 
“Keep ‘em there, it’s warmer,” you choke out quickly, not trusting what your voice will reveal if you let your desire to fully set in. 
“Miss, I—that’s—” Sanji stutters. His palms press more firmly into the dip of your waist, only for a moment. “You’re too good to me,” he settles on eventually.
Your vision is tinted blue from the moonlight filtering through the tent’s walls, and Sanji’s humid breath trickling down the collar of your shirt is making a haze settle over all your thoughts; all in all, this is starting to feel more like a dream you’ve had a thousand times. The oneiric atmosphere is not conductive to make well-thought out choices—but maybe that’s what you’ve needed this whole time. You could have had Sanji like this months ago if you’d found the courage to make the first move. 
While he’s mumbling more of his thanks, throwing a couple more Miss in there like the title is not making your cunt throb, you grab both his wrists and slide his hands up towards your solar plexus. You’re not wearing a bra, which Sanji notices with an accidental brush of his fingertips and remarks on with a gasp that silences his words. He lets you properly slide an arm under his neck, and soon enough you have him moulded comfortably to your frame—entwined legs included. 
“Try to rest, ‘kay?” you tell him. Your thumb swiping back and forth on his nape seems to do the trick; Sanji’s one visible eye slips shit after a couple of slow blinks.
“You, too. Goodnight, angel.”
He goes out like a light. You try to fall asleep, you really do—perhaps it’s physically not possible to do so when your body is firing on all cylinders, begging you to get some sort of sexual relief. Just knowing that Sanji’s legs are naked, meanwhile you are wearing stupid fucking clothes that keep you from feeling his skin on yours, is driving you insane. A couple of minutes of staring off into nothingness while listening to Sanji’s steady breathing calms you down just a notch, so at least now your heartbeat isn’t an active bomb threat anymore, but you’re a far cry from relaxed.
After a while, Sanji starts grumbling and moving in his sleep. You attempt to soothe him by petting his hair, whispering sweet nothings that he won’t remember, but it only gets worse until he wakes up with a confused call of your name. 
He stiffens for a second upon opening his eyes, and you let him move back a little from your embrace. Is he still in pain from the hours spent outside? Were you touching him too much while he slept?
“You okay?” you ask tentatively.
“Mh? Yeah, sorry! I woke you up again?” Sanji refuses to meet your eye. His fingers twitch over your stomach, and he seems shocked to find them still there under your shirts, right before sliding them out. 
The loss of contact saddens you more than you thought possible. “Kind of, I had just dozed off,” you lie. “It looked like you were having a nightmare, though, I was worried.”
“It did? I don’t remember what I was dreaming.” You swear a blush spreads on his face, but the faint moonlight doesn’t help you decipher his expression that well. “I’m good now, darling. Let’s go back to sleep, I promise I won’t wake you up again—I wouldn’t want my princess to be tired tomorrow.”
His princess. That’s a low blow—you can’t argue with him after that. You only nod, bidding him goodnight again, and you’re gifted one of those beautiful smiles of his. 
Determined to not act like a freak this time, and just relax and doze off for real instead of sniffing his hair or whatever the hell you were about to do earlier, you try to settle in a more comfortable position. The goal is not achieved, since you accidentally press one thigh over Sanji’s front, and feel—
“Ah, fuck,” Sanji says under his breath when you gasp. He’s very clearly hard, enough that you can half guess the length of his cock, that’s how obvious it is. 
So he was blushing, and he was not having a nightmare. How did you miss this when you were half on top of him? 
If you were aroused before, it pales in comparison to the sudden, violent heat that starts in your stomach and quickly pools low between your legs. It’s like you got sucker-punched by desire, so much so that you lose your breath with that gasp, and can’t find words to defuse the situation. 
Sanji tries to shuffle away from you, instinctively raising on one elbow like he wants to jump out of the bag. The way he’s pulling on the fabric makes you roll closer to him, and it’s all you can do not to moan when suddenly not only you can feel his erection, but your cunt is pressed so, so nicely over his own thigh. The unfairness of the situation hits you: Sanji can’t hide his physical reaction, meanwhile you’ve been getting wetter and wetter since he got in there with you, and he’ll remain none-the-wiser unless you shove his hand down your underwear. 
The thought of those long, lithe fingers playing with your clit almost makes you black out. You’re trying to stay lucid, but you’d like to see someone else coping with a wet dream come to life. 
“Damn it, I—I’m sorry, I can’t control it. I mean, I can control myself! Just, not it,” Sanji babbles, clearly building up to something close to panic. “It’ll go away, I promise, sorry. I mean…okay, it’ll go away if I stop touching you, that’s what I was trying to do. You’re just…so soft and warm. And pretty, duh! Oh God, why am I still talking. Make it stop, please.”
You snake a hand up his chest until you can press your palm over Sanji’s mouth. You catch him mid-word, but the sentence dies down quickly with a tortured bitten-back lament.
“Calm down,” you say softly. If you sound breathier than intended, it's because you can't hope to hide all signs of your demanding arousal. “It's okay, Sanji. You didn't do anything bad, did you?”
Sanji stares at you for a moment with huge watery eyes, the usually hidden one left more visible by his fringe all knocked askew. 
“Did you?” you prompt him.
His lids drop lower, as he exhales a warm breath over your hand as he relaxes his body at your request. He shakes his head without removing your palm from over his mouth.
You do it for him. “Everything’s fine.” Sanji should never look this unsure and embarrassed, especially around you. You adore him, he’s your favourite everything. Isn’t it obvious? “Sweetheart, lay back down. You’re letting the cold in.”
Sanji’s eyes go wide again, be it because of the first pet name you’ve dared use for him, or the reminder that his seated position is keeping the sleeping bag half open. With one smooth move, he’s laying on his side once again, one hand clutched on the open hem to squish it closer to your bodies. 
“Why aren’t you kicking me out?” he whispers after he’s settled. He bites back a sound when you shift your hips just enough to satiate your curiosity—yes, he’s still hard, and yes, touching his cock even through all the layers of clothes has the same electrifying effect on you the second time as it did the first. “It’s going to be like this all night, Miss,” he commiserates, a little whine behind his tone that snaps whatever composure you had left. 
“Sanji, are you really that blind?” you ask in the near darkness. You cup his cheek in one hand, tucking whatever you can of his fringe behind his ear. “You haven’t figured it out?”
He frowns like he’s either worried or confused, and part of you can’t blame him—you’ve never  spoken to him this way, voice trembling with excitement. You enjoy what you can see of Sanji’s flushed face framed by your fingers, then you close the distance to kiss him. 
With great effort, you keep that first touch brief and chaste. The tip of his nose is cold where it presses gently on your cheek, his lips a little dry, but you enjoy immensely both that perfect cupid bow of his and the tickling sensation of his moustache. When you pull back a millimetre, which is all the distance you can bear to put between you, you’re awash in goosebumps and hot shivers. “I want you, too,” is all you can manage to say to fill the silence.
“Oh,” Sanji replies, “oh, I must still be dreaming.” He nuzzles into your hand, his own freeing the sleeping back to clutch your wrist instead. “I hope I don’t wake up too soon.”
A dopey smile opens on your face—you’re sure you look stupid with love and desire—and you want to put two coherent words together and tell this beautiful smooth-talker that he’s very much awake, or stuck in your dream if anything, but Sanji kisses you again. 
This one doesn’t end quickly; if you have it your way, this one won’t end at all. Sanji tilts his head and slots your lips together with a wanton moan muffled by the contact. Your finger sinks in the soft locks of his hair, slipping like fresh water between your digits as you caress him. There’s not enough space to move freely, to roll on top of him or pull him until he can lay all his weight on you—phantom feelings you’ve chased through your daydreams hundreds of times, and are now just out of reach, but what you get is enough. It’s everything. Sanji moving his arm out of the way so he can wrap you in a half-hug and squish your chests together; your leg pushed between his so you can properly get his flat abdomen and hard cock right up against you. 
His breath hitches as his hips roll forward. With the grip you have on his hair, you instinctively tug his head back, breaking the wet kiss just in time to hear his breathy moan. “No, please, more. Wanna kiss you more,” he begs—and really, who would say no to such a request?
You lick his bottom lip just to put to rest the demon that once made you stare at Sanji’s side profile while he cooked for way too long, whispering in your ear his lips are so plump, wouldn’t they look good on a girl? You don’t know about that, but they are extremely kissable.
At the time you thought that Sanji, who strives to be a real gentleman—emphasis on the man—would be freaked out by those thoughts…seeing how he’s behaving now, maybe that’s not the case. Maybe he’d enjoy being talked to and handled like a precious little thing. Still, you abstain for now, horrified by the idea that you could ruin this long-awaited moment, and content yourself with kissing him silly.
Well. Calling what you're doing to him kissing is an euphemism; you're licking into his mouth as if with enough effort you could taste his soul, and when the push and pull of your bodies separates your lips, he lets you curl your tongue around his in the open air before you pull back properly. 
“‘M so hard, I could come just from this,” Sanji mumbles while you move down to suck over the pulse point on his neck. Your eyes are closed, but they still roll back into your skull when the fading scent of his aftershave fills your senses. 
“You won't have to,” you promise. You grasp at him blindly through the tangle of your limbs and the obstructive plush fabric all around. Sanji, sweet angel, perfect boy, arches to push his hips right into your palm. 
You let out a giggle and a dreamy sigh on the tail end of it when you manage to properly palm his hard cock, even if just above his boxers. You’d be embarrassed by the sound if you were lucid. There are many times when your affection for Sanji simmers gently and far away from lust, but this isn't one of those times.
Sanji stiffens at the first stroke you clumsily give his cock, just to quickly melt again in your arms. “Please, let me touch you, too.” His hands run down your form until he can hook his fingers into the waistline of your pants. “I want you to feel good with me.”
You nod with an enthusiastic hum of assent against the skin of his neck. The first touch of Sanji's fingertips on the naked skin usually covered by the hem of your underwear almost makes you jolt. You follow suit, shoving your hand inside his boxers. “Oh, fuck, yesyesyes,” Sanji mumbles before you’ve even done anything, just closed your fist around the tip of his cock. He’s leaking just enough to smooth the way as you play with him, teasing strokes and swipes of your thumb on the slit. 
It’s not that you’re being mean on purpose, eking out his pleasure like he might just run out if you get too greedy—you’re just so distracted by what he’s doing to you. Already, he had the unfair advantage of your near-obsession with his hands, born mostly from his insistence that they must be reserved for loving acts. He usually means cooking, of course, but Sanji has never hesitated to hold, carry, protect and serve the women in his life with his hands…so can you be blamed for getting ideas? You feel vindicated for each dirty thought you’ve ever had about them in the here and now. As soon as you raise your thigh high on his hip to leave him some space, Sanji slides his hand fully into your panties and cups your pussy like he’s cherishing being allowed to touch you so intimately. He doesn’t leave you waiting for something more substantial, quickly moving to sink his middle finger between your labia, gathering the copious amount of slick wetness. You have one moment to wish he had just pushed inside you before he starts drawing circles over your clit instead, and then the choice to just let him do whatever he wants is easily made. 
“How are you so wet for me? I barely touched you,” he asks with a tone that should be reserved for his first glimpse of the All Blue. 
You almost laugh at that. “I’ve been wet since you took off your pants,” you admit, “and then you kept calling me Miss—”
Sanji tilts his head to make eye contact with you, forcing your mouth away from the delectable line of his neck. “Wait, you like being called Miss? Really?” He has no business sounding shyly pleased; you suspect he uses the title specifically to elicit this sort of reaction—or is it that you have a heightened appreciation for it? You’ve never thought to ask the other girls what they think about it…Nami’s teasing over it would be brutal.
“Don’t take too much advantage of it!” Your pout robs the intimation of its strength, but Sanji’s eyes drop to stare at your lips like he’s hungry to get another taste, and you finish off the attempt at distracting him with a good series of strokes up and down his cock that he seems to really appreciate. He lets out a guttural moan that you’re sure whoever is sleeping in the tent next to you must have heard even above the wind now raging outside.
Sanji must take your renewed efforts as a sign to up the ante himself, and finally he slips a finger inside you. He figures out roughly two seconds in that quick and shallow thrusts make you writhe in pleasure, knowledge he has no qualms abusing until you’re shaking, lingering on the precipice of an orgasm. 
You’re still trying to give him the attention he deserves, but you know your movements over his cock have gone artless and a bit sloppy. “Mmghfuck, Sanji—” you moan through your teeth, biting the neckline of his shirt. You want to kiss him and lick wherever you can but your body is acting on its own. You think you add something along the lines of gonna come, just for you, baby, you want that? but you can’t be sure; maybe you’re just mewling nonsense with your face hidden in his neck. 
Whatever he hears, it’s enough to get Sanji very excited. “Yes, holy fuck, you’re perfect. So good for me.” You don’t know how he does it, but in a quick move he lifts you to lay more heavily on top of him with his free arm, locking it around your waist to keep you still. He’s got two fingers pumping in and out of you with no reprieve, but he hazards a guess and slides them out to focus on your clit again. In an ideal situation you’d like both things at the same time—hell, in an ideal situation you’d be bouncing on his cock already—but at this point you want to come, and being played with like this will get you there. You're clutching both hands around his sides now, palming at his abs, and Sanji’s erection is pressed tight over your hip. He doesn’t complain, taking advantage of how his underwear is riding too low on his hips to grind against you and seek out some friction.
“Like this okay, darling?” he asks with a murmur in your ear. You nod fervently. “Fuck, I really can’t believe this. My whole hand is wet, you’re dripping. Next time—can I—I want to lick until you’re coming on my tongue, I need to know what you taste like.”
Your eyes fly open, all the muscles in your legs and abdomen tensing with pleasure at Sanji’s words, the rumble of his voice thick with desire, the mental image of his blond head buried between your legs. That almost does you in, but the promise of a next time brings a realization—now I can have him like this again and again and again—that makes you fall over the edge. You come with your cheek pressed on his solid chest, one of Sanji’s hands now closed around the back of your neck, your voice stuck in your throat. Wave after wave of shivers run down your spine, wracking your body even as you’re coming down from the high, because Sanji won’t stop rubbing wet circles over your clit. 
“Stop, stop, I need a breather,” you complain, trying to escape his touch—but not really. Even as you’re supposedly squirming away from him, between the stifling top of the sleeping bag, and your leg locked around his hips, it’s clear that you’re right where you want to be. 
Sanji relents, sliding his fingers out of your now-ruined underwear. “Sorry, my love, you just sound so good while lost in pleasure.” He squeezes you in a full hug, pressing a few kisses over the crown of your head. “I can’t believe you let me do that…”
“I didn’t let you do anything. And there’s nothing strange about a woman wanting you like this, Sanji.” You tilt your head up, trying to meet his eye. “You know that, right?”
Shily, he allows the eye contact. You wish it wasn’t so dark in here, but the stronger winds must have brought clouds to cover the moon, and the lanterns Sanji had lit outside had long since died. You can’t see the stunning blue of his irises. 
“If you say so, darling,” he says, much to your chagrin. You hate how often you have witnessed Sanji being rejected, and in hindsight, by virtue of dismissing his advances as unserious, you have contributed to it. But he must have had his fair share of sexual experiences if he can bring a woman to orgasm as easily as he just did with you. 
You hope to have the opportunity to ask him about it. The urge to get to know him better, to be closer in all meanings of the terms, is stronger than ever—but now is not the time. You’ve got something else to focus on. 
“It’s okay, you don’t have to believe me. I can just show it to you.” You manage with some more wiggling to get your pants and underwear at least halfway down your thighs. “You thought I was going to leave you hanging, baby? We can’t, uh, go all the way…not right now, I don’t have protection—” you start to explain while trying to slide a bit further up his body.
Sanji starts shaking his head, eyes as wide as saucers. “Oh, no, you don’t have to do anything for me! I can’t possibly ask for more!”
You kiss his lips to silence him. Sanji whines like a wounded animal when you raise yourself just enough to hold his cock again—he has not gone soft despite the lack of stimulation, which doesn’t shock you. This is Sanji, after all. 
“I’ll come and stain your clothes and make a mess,” he says all in a rush, his fingers spasming around your hips. 
“Ssh, it’s okay. Don’t worry about anything, just let me take care of you.” You bring his cock between your legs, forcing them open despite the pant’s waistline pressing into your skin; when you’ve got the hard length pressed over your bare cunt you get your hand back on Sanji’s chest and squeeze your thighs.
You don’t know what feels best for him—clenching your legs as tight as you can, or to leave more space to swing your hips up and down—but whatever you try, Sanji vocally loves it. Despite how cold he had felt when he first got in the sleeping bag with you, he’s now burning up just like you, and you’re both starting to sweat under your clothes. You can feel him leak more precum when you raise up as far as you can and squeeze just the head of his cock between your thighs.
“Oh God, Miss,” he breathes out at that move. His hands slide down to grope your ass, and the feeling of him kneading the muscle there to his heart’s content makes your eyelids flutter. 
“Feels good, baby?” you ask. The question is redundant, but dammit, you want to hear him say it.
Sanji nods with a hum, lips parted and his cute little curled brow frowning in pleasure. “Yes! Yes, you feel perfect, you’re so soft. I would stay between your legs forever if you let me.”
Oh, this man. He doesn’t know how badly he drives you crazy, even when he’s just babbling the first thought he had. You lean down to dip your tongue in his mouth, your hands firmly planted over his pecs. He accepts the kiss easily, moaning each time you nibble his bottom lip or snap your hips down with more vigor. You pull back with a string of saliva still pulling between your mouths. “Next time you can fuck me like this,” you promise. Your mind is clouded with lust again, and you have half a mind to reach down and angle his cock so you can sink down on him for real, but you hold onto sanity enough to avoid that. “As soon as we’re back on the Sunny. You want that?”
“I’ve wanted that since the first time I saw you,” Sanji replies. He grips your ass more firmly, guiding you into moving faster. “I’m so close, please, just keep going.”
You don’t know if you can believe something like that said in the heat of the moment, but either way, he’s just so cute. In your imagination Sanji has been everything from the experienced lover that blows your mind to a playful partner that laughs with you in the middle of sex, and you’ve loved all those versions that existed in your head—but if the real one is this submissive and needy, you have no complaint. Reducing such a powerful and competent man to a moaning mess is nothing short of intoxicating. 
Gladly, you keep doing what you’ve been doing. Sanji begs for another kiss, and keeps you so busy with it that you realise he’s coming only when he gasps open-mouthed over your lips. Hot liquid drips over the back of your thighs—you spare him the overstimulation he inflicted on you earlier, out of the goodness of your bleeding heart, but it’ll be a while before you even consider unclenching your legs from around his cock.
Sanji takes in one last shuddering inhale, and all but melts into the thin mattress underneath him. One wet kiss pressed to his cheek, and you feel him smile as wide as when he serves you, Nami, and Robin some snacks and he gets to listen to all three of you compliment his cooking at the same time. 
“Mh, it’s too hot in here now,” you note with humour, “don’t you think?”
“It’s ‘cause I’m burning up for you, Mellorine,” Sanji replies. You huff a laugh when he attempts an exaggerated wink, which doesn’t work when one of his eyes is completely covered by ruffled hair. 
You slide a little to the side, keeping in mind the streaks of come splashed on your skin as you do so. Sanji lets out a saddened sigh when you’re not pressed skin-to-skin with him anymore, but you’re still so close, your heads only barely peeking out of the sleeping bag. 
“You were right, you did make a mess.” You’ll have to take off your pants off and use them to clean yourself and Sanji somehow—or maybe he’ll volunteer his boxers for the job, still pushed barely down his legs—as soon as you have the energy. 
“Ah, sorry…I usually have very good manners, I swear.” The apology seems genuine, but Sanji is just too giddy to sound contrite. “Hey, can I ask you something? But I don’t want to ruin the moment.”
You smile at him. Now that the adrenaline peak is fading away, your eyelids are once again heavy and ready to stay closed for a good six hours at least. “You can’t ruin it, Sanji.”
“You have a lot of faith in me, darling.”
“Just ask, dummy.”
He clears his throat, embarrassed by his own stalling. “I know that I-I said something about doing this again first, but then you said it, too, and I just—I don’t know if you meant it. Because I did. So, would you like to…?”
“Would I like to? Baby, I’m gonna wear you out.” You would sound much more convincing if you weren’t actively falling asleep. “I’ll ask Franky to build a secret bedroom, and no one will ever see us again,” you mumble before being interrupted by a yawn.
You feel the warmth of Sanji’s fingers caressing your cheekbone, the line of your jaw. You smile thinking of how this started, with Sanji’s poor hands cold as ice shoved under your shirts. 
“I’ll ask you a few hundred times more in the morning, sweetheart. You’re about to pass out, I’ll clean you up myself, okay?”
You think you nod, or maybe you just hum a vague affirmative sound. The last thing you remember, with the rumbling of the wind and the distant raging of the ocean lulling deeper into sleep, is Sanji pressing a kiss on your neck, warm and heavy with affection. 
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Omfg. I've had this idea for a while and jumped at the chance to write it when I saw that it could work for my assignment in this exchange. Huge shoutout to @twoflowers for passing onto me the "Sanji calls women 'miss' intstead of using honourifics" demon, as you can all see I've used and abused that idea.
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spxllcxstxr · 8 months ago
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Vermax • J.V
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(Gif not mine)
Request: jacaerys falling in love with a servant girl and taking her for a ride on vermax. -- @sarahisslytherin
Summary: Jacaerys takes a servant girl to see Vermax
Warnings: fem!reader (referred to as girl at some points), servant x prince forbidden romance, dragon stuff, lowkey abrupt ending but oh well
Word Count: 1.2k
A.N: need more smiling jace but DAMN he was fine in this scene, first jace piece, hope it's ok! This wasn’t supposed to be over 1k words lmao
The dark corridors of Dragonstone castle twist and turn as Prince Jacaerys pulls you through them. His grip on your wrist is light as it pushes up the sleeve of your red servant’s dress.
The only sounds surrounding the two of you were your steps across the stone floors and both of your panting breaths.
In mere minutes the cool air of Dragonstone hits you as does the grass slick with fresh dew. Any guards near the entrances are cloaked in the darkness.
"Jacaerys," You hiss, careful not to draw any attention to you. "Where are you taking me?"
"Calm yourself, (Y/n), I am only taking you to see Vermax." Jace responds, his pace slowing as he approaches a patch of grass where his dragon frequently can be found.
"Are you feeding me to your dragon, Jace? Is this what this is?"
He snorts at your question. "Not today."
You giggle as Vermax is appears within your vision.
The moonlight shimmers on Vermax's olive green scales. The dragon mesmerizes you, even when stationary. You can't even fathom the fact that Vermax is on the smaller side of the Targaryen dragons.
Jacearys turns to you, the flowing red cape attached to the rest of his riding gear rustles behind him. Your eyes flick to the Prince.
"Do you trust me?" The Prince asks, his gentle brown eyes staring into your own. His thumb rests on your cheekbone. The leather riding gloves obstructs the warm feeling you have come to associate with the Prince. It's comforting nonetheless.
You heart hammers in your chest. Even his lightest of touches always leaves you dazed, but with the addition of a dragon just over his shoulder contributes to your nerves.
"Of course, Jacaerys," You breathe, wiping your sweaty palms against the rough fabric of your dress. The tall grass tickles your ankles.
He hums, lightly pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Do not be afraid, sweet girl, Vermax will do you no harm."
"Are you sure about this, Jace? We could get in trouble--"
"Nonsense, who here would fathom taking issue with the Prince?" Jacearys smirks, making your cheeks burn.
In the moonlight he takes your breath away. Pale skin littered with freckles, the desire to kiss every single one almost taking over.
You follow him as he strides over to his dragon, murmuring in High Valarian. His hands rest atop the dragon's snout.
He whispers to his dragon, gesturing to you to come closer. With your hand trembling slightly, you lightly place it on the dragon's scales, which are hot to the touch.
It takes a bit of maneuvering paired with Jace's help for you to get up on Vermax's saddle--you had barely ridden a horse much less a dragon.
"Might want to hold on tight, (Y/n)." Jacaerys whispers in your ear as he settles behind you. "Vermax is pretty quick."
He shouts a few phrases in High Valyrian and the dragon roars to life, large wings starting to move. As you rise through the air, you can't help but to scream your lungs out.
Higher above the trees, mingling between the clouds, a sense of adrenaline makes you dizzy.
How could anyone get used to this?
You holler and laugh as the wind quickly whips all around you. Your fingers tingle and your heart pound in your chest.
Jacaerys has Vermax climbing high up in the sky before dropping close to the ocean, twisting as you go down.
Eventually, with morning quickly approaching, Vermax coasts just below the clouds, heading towards Dragonstone, which is just a small island in the distance.
Dawn creeps over the horizon, the orange and yellow hues of the early light blending with the sea surrounding you. Your skin bathes in the light. The open sea and sky glitters in your vision. Closing your eyes you deeply inhale, the fresh air filling your lungs. You can feel his eyes watching you intensely. Jace's arms tighten around your waist as he guides Vermax to dive closer to land.
You don't open your eyes until you land and Vermax stops shifting on their feet. Slowly, and with guidance from the Prince, you dismount from the dragon, gently patting their scales once more before taking a few steps back.
“Thank you, Jace,” Your lips gently press against his cheek, red from the wind. "That was..." You search for the words that could possibly describe the experience you just had. "Amazing."
The dawn light highlights the flecks of gold in his eyes and you're unable to look away. His lips tilt up in a smile.
"Oh my sweet girl...I would do anything for you. Showing you all this," He gestures to Vermax's retreating figure in the sky. "It is because I love you."
You take a step back, breath catching in your throat. While the two of you had been sneaking around with each other and kissing in the dark corners of the castle, he had never told you he loved you before. You never thought he could love someone like you. "Jacaerys, I am a mere servant girl, you cannot--"
"I can, (Y/n)." He takes your hands in his, pulling you closer to his body. He smells of dragon and fire. "When my mother is sat on the Iron Throne it will not matter if my heart chooses to be with a serving girl or a lady at court." He squeezes your hands in an attempt to calm your nerves.
You bite your bottom lip, mind and heart racing with swarming thoughts and emotions.
"Do you--do you not love me back?" Jace's dark brows crease with worry.
"Do not be a fool, Jacaerys!" You respond, meeting his eyes. "I have loved you since I met you! But what of Baela? Of politics? You cannot just piss that all away for someone like me!"
"I do not care, (Y/n), please just listen to me!" He moves his hands to frame your face, one of each cheek. They're delicate on your skin. "We will deal with it when we get there, but please let us love each other now before we have to concern ourselves with all of that." Jace's eyes are wide, pleading with you to just say yes.
And how could you resist? You had loved him since you were both children running up and down the stone steps of the castle, him avoiding his duties as a Prince and you avoiding your duties as a servant.
Without saying anything, you surge forward to capture his soft lips in your own. Your own hands move to his neck, stroking the skin there. The two of you had kissed before, many times, in fact, but it was never like this. This was more special in a way you couldn't wrap your head around. It was slow and passionate, like Jacearys was trying to convey to you how much he truly loved you. You try your best to return the sentiment.
Breathlessly, you reluctantly pull away. Your eyes flutter as they meet his own. "Gods, Jacaerys, of course I love you back."
544 notes · View notes
valyriians · 9 months ago
Text
-values of marriage.
cregan stark x fem!targ!reader.
requested: yes.
wc: 7287.
warnings: mention of childbirth, miscarriage, smut, MDNI, oral (f receiving), mention of death. brackets are high valyrian translation.
You let out a laugh while Vermithor roared a victorious screech that could be heard everywhere on the island and patted his back.
’’Tegon, Vermithor!’’ you told him. (land)
He landed at the base of the staircase that led up to the great castle, sliding down as he lowered his body so your fall to the ground wouldn't be harsh you trailed your hand over his neck while you told him to be calm as the dragon keepers walked over to you preparing him to break his fast.
’’What is on today’s menu Claedon?’’ you asked the dragon keeper who is in charge of the dragons.
’’A dozen cattle and three goats, Princess.’’ Claedon says.
’’Give him some more goats, he did so very well today and the rope on the left side is starting to become loose so you need to fix that and maybe have the saddle adjusted while you’re at it.’’ You say while walking to your brothers who are landing with their dragons.
’’Of course Princess, anything else?’’ Claedon asks.
’’No that will be all thank you Claedon.’’ You say as you dismiss him.
’’While my dragon may be smaller and swifter you still somehow manage to best us both.’’ Jace says while he slides down his saddle.
’’Maybe you should’ve paid better attention to the dragon keeper lesson in King’s Landing, you would then be the better rider.’’ You say, half jesting but you always paid attention to anything dragon related, whether it was history, anatomy or just basic stuff.
’’I’ve only been a dragon rider for five moons but I assure you I will one day beat you.’’ Luke says, Arrax was small and had only recently begun taking Luke to the skies.
The three of you share a laugh until you see your grandmother, Princess Rhaenys, you hit Jace beckoning him to stop laughing.
’’Your lady mother needs to see you!’’ She shouts.
You take Luke's hand and begin walking to her and bow to her asking what is the matter.
’’It is best if your mother tells you.’’ Rhaenys looks at you, taking your face into her hands.
Unlike your brothers, you were the result of a successful bedding with Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor, you had the golden-silver hair of Old Valyria. Your grandmother loved all of her grandchildren, she saw her son in you the most. In your looks and your love for your dragon. It was known that Seasmoke was Ser Laenors pride and joy, just like Vermithor was yours.
A concerning look dwelled upon your face as you raced up the staircase to your mother's chambers where you heard screaming and grunting, you entered with your brothers in tow.
’’Mother?’’ Jace asks.
’’Your grandsire, King Viserys has passed.”
Your mother said, panting.
“Viserys?!” Luke cries out.
“The greens have repudiated the succession and claimed The Iron Throne. Aegon has been crowned king.” Your mother said, following cries and grunting.
Your grandfather is dead and your uncle has been crowned king, your mother's birthright and throne had been stolen from her, causing her to go into early labour Maester Gerardys believes.
You felt faint and everything blurred, you sat down and thought about how this had happened, just last night you were having dinner with your king, and everything felt like it was in place. You would’ve never thought that everything happened so quickly and soon.
“What is there to be done about it?” Jace asked in an angry tone, the fire inside him is ready to burst but for the sake of his mother he kept himself composed.
“Nothing yet.” your mother replies, crying and sweating.
“Where is Daemon?” You ask, wiping away your tears and standing up.
“I don’t know, gone to madness, gone to plot his war.” she cries out.
“Leave him with me.” you say to your mother while crouching to her.
“Whatever claim remains to me you are now its heir, the burden is a heavy one.” your mother says to you, clutching your arm.
“I won’t fail you, mother.” You say to her and then walk out of the room.
-
You walk into the main hall with red puffy cheeks and still in your riding clothes, Daemon is by the table pointing to the figurines on the table while the lords are writing things down and talking to each other.
“I will fly to the Riverlands myself and affirm Lord Tullys support.” Daemon says.
“You will do no such thing.” You say, making your presence in the hall known, Daemon looks at you.
“My mother has decreed no action be taken while she is abed.” You say firmly.
“It’s good you’re here young princess, you’re needed to patr-“
“Did you not hear what I said? As Princess of Dragonstone I command this.” You shout, making all the lords look at you, Daemon with rage in his eyes.
“Come with me.” Daemon says gritting through his teeth.
He takes you to the highest top on the Dragonmount. Where he stands before you and shouts at you.
“You dare to command me? I don’t take orders from you, I am your mothers right hand and while she is abed I have the control not you!” He shouts.
“That’s it, your control is only so limited, I will however be my mothers heir as long as I breathe air!” You scream at him, unleashing the anger and grief you feel.
“None of this would have happened if my mother married you!” you said, it was partly true.
“You have only brought pain and torment to her, she’s more than some brood mare who you can have children with and right now she is in anguish, screaming and begging for you! Her husband! The father of her children!” You shout at him, unleashing a scream from you and at the same time a dragons roar shakes the ground, Vermithor felt you, he mirrored your emotions.
You fell to your knees, crying clutching your arms to your chest. You hear footsteps and see Daemon kneeling before you.
“I'm taking control because I am her husband and the mother of my children, for all our safety.” he says, taking your shoulder.
“Now come, we are both needed by someone.” He grabs your hand the both of you walk to the castle.
-
“Wait here.” Daemon says before he walks into his shared chamber with Rhaenyra.
It was good to let your feelings out, the rage inside you had finally burst out and you were feeling confident.
You went to your brothers who were in the nursery with Aegon and Viserys, trying to keep your mind occupied while you comforted them.
You played with Aegon's curls and looked at the toy Viserys was playing with which was a toy soldier and wooden sword. It filled you with fear to think about your brothers having to fight, Aegon had his dragon of course while Viserys didn’t have one.
-
Syrax lit the funeral pyre for your sister whom your mother named Visenya, seeing your mother and Daemon standing on the over the pyre is heartbreaking, you hear armor clinking and see a white cloak walking towards your mother.
“I mean no harm brothers.” Ser Erryk calls out, reaching into his bag he pulls out your grandfathers crown.
“I swear to ward the Queen, with all my strength and give my blood for hers. I shall take no wife. Hold no lands. Father no children. I shall guard her secrets. Obey her commands. Ride at her side and defend her name and honour.” he calls out, holding the crown.
Daemon takes the crown from him and crowns your mother, then kneels before her, calling her his queen.
You kneel with your brothers, acknowledging your mother as the Queen.
-
You get dressed into a more comfortable outfit, with dragon scale detailing and red and blue lace design.
Walking into the room and taking your place beside your brother who looked anxious and troubled.
“What is it?” you ask.
“Everything is happening so fast, I wish for this to be over quickly.” Luke says.
You take his hand comforting him and give him a faint smile.
“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Your Grace.” Daemon proclaims, looking at his wife proudly.
You would have never guessed that she had just said goodbye to her child, she looked ethereal and stood tall despite the circumstances.
“Where do we stand?” The queen asks and Daemon and the maester reply to her.
You had the majority of the houses on your side, there were some who needed to be reminded of who King Viserys named his heir.
“Your Grace, a ship has been sighted offshore flying the banner of a three headed green dragon.” a white cloak announced.
You looked at your mother who knew well who it was.
“I shall meet them.” The queen said, beckoning you closer to her.
“Take your brothers to your chamber, if anything should happen to me, it’s your duty to take care of them. Do you understand?” she says.
“Yes, my queen.” You bow and gather your brothers, Baela and Rhaena.
-
A load of things happened before everyone were once again gathered in the hall, your mother lost in her thoughts as you listened to the lords talking about how their troops are ready to fight and have been dispatched to their locations.
“Do your forces have enough food and supplies?” you ask Lord Celtigar.
“We have enough to last us for two moons but we shall be prepared for anything Princess.” he replies looking over his books.
“Vermithor and I will patrol the skies for food and drop some for your forces.” You say, Lord Celtigar bows to you and gives his thanks.
“The Lord of the Tides! Lord Corlys Velaryon and his wife, the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen!” Ser Erryk shouts, all eyes gloom at the limping man going down the stairs.
“My lords.” Corlys says,
“Lord Corlys, it brings much relief to see you hale and healthy again.” the queen says.
“I’m very sorry about your father, Your Grace.” he says, offering his sincere condolences.
Corlys looks at you, proud as ever, you looked so much like your father in certain lights.
-
“We must first secure the support of Winterfell, the Eyrie and Storm's End.” Lord Bartimos says.
“I will prepare the ravens Your Grace” the maester says.
“We should bear those messages, dragons can fly faster than ravens, and are more convincing.” Jacaerys says.
“Send us.” he asks, but more like demands.
“My brother is right, the last King in the North bent the knee to the Conqueror when he saw Balerion.” you say, remembering your history lesson.
Your mother was not very keen on the idea, sending her children away, but her daughter was correct. Dragons are faster and they have no time to loose.
“Very well, Prince Jaceaerys will fly to the Eyrie to see my mother’s cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn. Princess Y/n will fly north to Winterfell to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will fly south to Storm's End and treat Lord Borros Baratheon.
We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore and the cost of breaking them.” your mother says, you are up to the task, Vermithor has seen the snow in the north so it will be easier for you to go north.
-
“If you take this errand, you go as messengers, not as warriors, you must take part in any fighting, swear it to me now under the eyes of the Seven.”
Luke was the first one to place his hand on the book, then you, then Jace.
“I swear it.” you say.
You bow to her, she takes your face into her hand and kisses your forehead, she knows you will be safe but goodbyes are always hard.
You walk to Vermithor who has been on the coast, he was sleeping but roused up when you walked closer. You placed your hand on his neck and urged him to lower his body so you could climb onto the saddle, you then strapped yourself in and took the reins and commanded him to fly, he stretched out his bronze wings and let out a roar then he took flight, climbing higher and higher into the cloud.
You looked at your grandmother Rhaenys and then your brother Luke who was on his way to Storm's End and waved them goodbye.
-
The flight was long and cold, stormy weather and winds made it difficult to hold on but it was easy for Vermithor, being used to harsh climate and familiar to the North, the old king Jaehaerys I visited the North once.
You spotted Winterfell, it was covered in snow and the walls were high and covered in the banners of House Stark. You circled over the castle thrice and then landed outside the castle, shaking the ground and the snow melted beneath Vermithors body, many servants and guards looked at the Bronze Fury in terror and awe.
You unclasped yourself from the saddle and dismounted, giving him a stroke on his neck and whispering to him to stay calm.
Four guardsmen approached you.
“Princess Y/n, we are here to escort you to the inner courtyard of Winterfell.” one guard said.
You nodded your head, then allowed Vermithor to linger around and then you approached the guards and began to make your way into Winterfell.
-
“Princess Y/n Velaryon, daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen” a guard shouted in the courtyard as you looked around the courtyard, it was in some ways like Dragonstone, high black walls and everything was made from stone.
You turn your head to look at the man who stands tall among the crowd, a huge sword in his hand, his black hair is pulled back and is covered in light snow. His coat is big and covers his left arm.
“Winterfell is yours, princess.” he bows down to you, beckoning a young child beside him to walk to you with a bouquet of blue winter roses, native to the North.
“Welcome to Winterfell princess, I hope your journey fared well.” the young man said while handing you the bouquet, it was Lord Starks first born child, Rickon.
“Why thank you my lord.” you crouch down to him so you can talk with him better.
“These roses are very beautiful, how did you know blue is my favorite colour?” you joke with him and he laughs.
“Would you perhaps escort me to your father? For I desire to speak with him.” You ask him while inspecting the bouquet.
He nods his head and takes your hand and drags you to his father. Cregan was tall and had a handsome sharp face. He had the eyes you could fall into easily.
“Princess.” Cregan said to you, as he took your hand and kissed it softly and gently. You fully got lost in a trance and stood there for a moment.
“Lord Stark, I have brought you messages from my mother, the Queen.” you say, giving him the scroll.
“Let us go inside.” He said, taking your hand and leading you into the castle where a fire was lit.
You arrived into the hall and looked around, not many decorations were around but it was warm and welcoming.
“Would you like some refreshments Princess? some ale perhaps?”
“That would be wonderful, thank you.” you say, sitting down while straightening out your dress.
Cregan poured some ale into a jug and handed it to you, taking a sip of the drink made you cough and Cregan let out a laugh.
“Not the drink you’re used to eh?” he asked.
“Certainly not my lord.” you say with a sour look on your face.
There was a moment of silence, he looked at you as if he had seen the gods, he was taken away by you.
“Lord Stark, I am not sure if the news has reached so far but my grandfather, the king, has passed away.” you stand up and walk around the room.
“He was a good king with a gentle heart, my condolences princess.” he says while clasping his hands together.
“That he was, he always…. he always cared for me.” you say with a heavy heart and sniffled.
Cregan stands up and goes to comfort you.
“Princess-“ he begins.
“Your father Lord Rickon Stark swore an oath to King Viserys and my mother to acknowledge her as the princess of Dragonstone and the heir to the Iron Throne and I need to affirm your support. The Hightowers have placed Prince Aegon on the throne and crowned him in the Dragonpit. You have a choice to make my Lord, you can choose to honor your fathers oath and stand with the rightful ruler or you can learn the consequences of being an oathbreaker.” You proclaim to him, he steps back and his mind is clouded.
“You sound tired princess, have your rest change your attire because as the evening grows, the colder it will be.” he says as he walks away.
“I will send a lady to attend to you.” he added as a guard guided you to your chamber.
You walked into the chamber where a large tub and bed was waiting, you looked around, put your gloves down on the table where old maps and books layed around.
‘Was I too harsh?’ you asked yourself and placed your head in your hands and felt the urge to cry but straightened up when you heard a knock.
“Come in.” you said, straightening your dress.
A girl entered the room, she was about the same age as you, with brown hair and hazel eyes, her clothes were probably mended just a few moments ago.
“Princess, Lord Stark sent me.” she said.
“Yes, what is your name?” you asked.
“Mariah, princess.” she said.
“Right, I wish to bathe before I meet with Lord Stark again, I didn’t bring anything with me. I was wondering if there is something I might be able to wear.” you ask her.
“We have already prepared you a gown for tonight princess, it is quite splendid.” she says.
You start to undo your dress with the help of Mariah, she looks at your gown with awe in her eyes, she runs her fingers over the intricate design and lace and quickly shakes herself out of the trance and undid your hair.
You enter the tub and allow yourself to submerge into the water, Mariah gathers some oils and herbs to add into the water, along with soap.
“Your hair princess, may I?” Mariah asks and you nod your head, allowing her to rinse through it and wash it gently.
There was a long momentary silence when you finally spoke up.
“Tell me Mariah, how are the customs here in the North, I wish to be as respectful and modest as I can.” you ask her, she’s clearly stressed at the question but answers with grace.
“Well, it has been some time since your house has arrived here, last time it was King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne so you can imagine our surprise when the Bronze Fury graced the northern sky once again.” she said, she had clearly done her research.
“Well, I know that Queen Alysannes visit here brought great fortune, I certainly wish to do the same.” you tell her.
“You have already won the favor of Lord Cregans, ever since the late Lady Stark passed away Lord Stark has been very cautious about his son, protecting him from all harm and danger.” she says, clearly reminiscing about the old days.
“What was the late Lady Stark like?” you ask, in a low voice.
“She was very beautiful, the epitome of a lady.” Mariah answered.
You stayed in the tub for some time, not wanting to get out as riding for such a long time made your legs ache and the comfort from the hot water soothed the pain.
“Princess, I have gathered some gowns for you to pick from.” Mariah says while she helps you cover up.
Before you there were three beautiful gowns that were clearly fashioned for the North, you let your fingers glide over the dresses and then you picked a grey gown that showed your shoulders and covered your arms with another piece of fabric draped around your arms. Mariah brushed your hair and braided the top of it, allowing some hair to fall to your shoulders and back.
She lathered some oil on your collarbone and placed a dragon broach in the dress.
Mariah took one last look at you and bowed, leaving the room, letting you have some time alone before the feast began.
-
You walked into the great hall as a guard announced your presence, making everyone stand up and looking in your direction.
“Princess Y/n Velaryon, daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.” was announced loudly.
You walked through the hall with your head high and when you reached the table where Lord Cregan and his family were sitting you nodded to him, making sure to keep eye contact. You then took your place beside him on the table.
The commotion in the hall began after you had taken your seat and you looked over at the great number of people, taking a sip from your drink.
“I hope Mariah was satisfactory, princess.” Cregan asks you.
“She was, my lord. I thank you for the hospitality.” you answered.
“You must forgive her, she was only trained to serve ladies, not princesses.” he jests, trying to make something of the conversation.
The tension between the two of you didn’t go unnoticed, some man then marched over to the table and bowed.
“Princess Y/n, the tales are true then.” the old lord says.
“Which tales might that be my lord-?” you ask him, wondering about his name.
“Hornwood, princess. Lord Cregan told us of your beauty, said you were as beautiful as the dawn.” Lord Hornwood said, making you blush and smile at him.
“You are much too kind my lord.” you replied and looked at Cregan who was embarrassed as he hid his face in a horn of wine. Lord Hornwood walked away after bowing to you and his lord.
The feast continued with lots of drinking and singing when you finally managed to talk with Cregan about your reason here.
“As much as I appreciate your hospitality and welcome here, I will need an answer from you before I leave for Dragonstone again.’’ you told Cregan, who sighed and looked at your face with much admiration.
‘’Of course princess, I have gone over the demands and conditions in the letter from your mother with my council and we have decided that, while my duty as Warden of the North is the most important to me, fulfilling my father's oath is just as important to me.’’ Cregan answers.
He rises and grabs the attention of everyone in the hall, raising his cup.
‘’My lords and ladies, I bid you all a warm welcome to my home on this occasion, while the harshest of winter snow has not yet fallen from the sky, a harsher wound this realm has faced. The king is dead.’’ he says, with a crack in his voice and people begin talking, looking at you with apologizing eyes. You looked down at your hands and tears began to swell your eyes.
‘’While I never met King Viserys, my father told me he was a just man and always wanted peace and unity across the realm. He also told me about the time he travelled South and bent the knee to him on the Iron Throne alongside Princess Rhaenyra, swearing his sword and allegiance to them both and acknowledging his first-born child as his heir and successor.’’ He shouts across the hall, having everyone listening to him. It was quite a show.
‘’Princess Y/n arrived here with a message, signed by her mother, the Queen.’’ he says, he recognized your mother as the queen, you felt shivering in your spine and arms.
‘’She says that the Hightowers have usurped her throne and crowned her half-brother Aegon as king, she asks that I do not forget my father’s oath and pledge for her if war will ensue which she does not wish for’‘ Cregan continues
The North does not forget oaths easily, we stay true to our word.’’ Creagns says, earning an agreeable shout from everyone.
“The North will honor the sworn oath to Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Queen of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm. We know that a Targaryen must sit the Iron Throne when the Long Night arrives, an alliance between the crown and the North is crucial.” He shouted, banging on the table to capture everyone’s attention. The way his hand fists met the wooden table and made everything shake was riveting.
“Each house will supply a hundred men that will march for Harrenhal and await my commands.” he made his decree.
You looked at him, with glossy eyes, you thought your mission had failed when he distanced himself from you, maybe stalling so the greens could come for you but how wrong you were.
“To Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, first of her name!” He lifted his cup and shouted, being met with joyous screams and cheers from the hall.
The celebrations continued until you decided to retire and Cregan himself escorted you to your chambers
“The Queen is most thankful for your support, with the strength of the North by our side we shall see much success if war ensues.” you say while walking slowly.
“Of course princess, we will start making progress in the next few days.” he says to you, clearly anxious.
“I shall be returning back to Dragonstone on the morrow, my mother will be most pleased with the news.” you tell him as you stop in the hallway.
“What will you do next?” he asks, questioning you.
“I will do what my mother commands, whether it is fighting, being by her side or marrying someone.” you say, with disappointment in the last words.
You always knew you had to marry, not for love but for political alliances or stability, a marriage for love in your position is not something that would be possible. You would always put the responsibility of the crown first.
“Marriage? You have someone in mind, princess?” he asks.
“No, my Lord.” you say then begin to laugh.
“Well there was this one boy who worked in the kitchen in the Red Keep, he always sneaked some sweets to me when I was younger, I told myself I would marry him because he always listened to me and bring me sweets, I like to think of him as my first love but it was childish really.” you say, clinging to the sweet memory like a child with a blanket.
“I wish to share my life with someone who listens to me and honors the values I myself uphold, who wants the same things as I, someone that knows their histories and cultures.” you say to him, imagining a life with your future one and smiling.
“That sounds like a very fine match princess, I do hope you find him.” he says with a sincere smile.
You both smile at each other and chuckle.
You see a small shadow behind the corner of the hallway, and soon find out that it is Rickon as he runs up to his father.
“Rickon! What are you doing here little one, you’re supposed to be abed.” Cregan says to him as he picks him up and puts a kiss on his forehead.
“I had a nightmare, the Others were coming for me riding giant spiders and I was so scared.” Little Rickon said as he snuggled with his father, burying his face into the thick coat his father wore.
“Oh my son, the Others have been dead for thousands of years, no harm will come to you, I swear it.” Cregan says, sharing a sweet moment with his son. You smile at the sight.
You hear someone walk to you, it is a guard wearing the Stark sigil and he bows before you.
“My lord, you are needed in the great hall.” he says.
“I will be there soon, I must put my son to bed”. Cregan says.
“Forgive me my lord, it is quite urgent.” the guard says.
Cregan becomes annoyed, sighing to himself and then starts putting him down when you intervene.
“I can tuck him in, if the little Lord would have me.” you smile as you stroke his cheek.
“Is that okay Rickon?” Cregan asks his son and he responds with a nod.
You pick Rickon up and caress his curls and begin walking to his chambers, you set him down in bed and tuck him in so he is comfortable.
“There you go Rickon, are you comfortable?” you ask as he nods and begins playing with his toy. You begin to walk away when he starts asking for a story. You sit down beside his bed.
“I heard you were talking about the Others to your father, can you tell me about them?” you ask him.
“They are big scary creatures and they ride dead horses and big spiders, they are made of ice and are very strong.” he says, shaking with fear, no wonder he woke up and asked for comfort. You nod to him and then straighten your back to grab the dragon broach from your dress and show it to him.
“You know what this is?” you smile and show it to him.
“Yes, a dragon!” he says with a smile on his face.
“Yes! a dragon you are correct and can you tell me what dragons do my lord?” you ask while holding the broach.
“They fly high into the sky!” he raises his arms up.
“Yes and what else?” you say with a smirk.
“They can breathe fire!” he says at last.
“Yes they can, and what does fire do to ice?” you ask.
“I don’t know.” he says with a confused look.
“Fire melts ice.” you say with a serious tone while spinning the broach in your hand.
“My dragon can breath so much fire that if the Others were to ever come, they would melt in an instant and turn into a big puddle. His wingspan is so wide it can cover a small town. My dragon would do anything I tell him to, all I must do is tell him ‘dracarys’ and he will breathe fire.” you tell him, he looks at you with much admiration and smiles.
“So if the Others were ever to come, all you must do is call me and I will arrive with my dragon.” you say to him and lastly give him the broach.
“So you remember me.” you say, giving him a kiss on the forehead as he begins to yawn and rub his eyes.
“Goodnight, my lord.” you whisper.
You stand up and see Cregan in the doorway, smiling at him and begin walking out.
“He’s a sweet boy.” you say as you cross your arms.
“It’s been hard, his mother died giving birth to him. He has never been satisfied with any maid or woman that has tried to comfort him.” Cregan tells you while dropping his head.
“I have experience, my younger brothers Aegon and Viserys are quite a handful, they only want my mother or me to tuck them in.” you tell him, you miss your brothers dearly.
You walk to your chambers at a slow pace.
“He has your eyes, you know.” you tell him, offering some comfort.
You reach your chambers, the walk to it felt so short and you felt heavy at heart when you reached the door. Wanting the company of Cregan to last forever you reach for his hand.
“I thank you for tonight Cregan, it was most enjoyable my lord.” you say caressing his hand.
“I am most pleased princess, I shall see you on the morrow before you leave.” he tells you as he places a kiss on your hand.
Looking into his eyes you felt your heart skip a beat and felt your hair rising when he kissed your hand, making you twitch inside with excitement.
“See you then, my lord.” you tell him.
He bows and leaves you.
You walk into your chambers and begin to discard your clothes and dress into a warm nightgown suited for the north, Mariah helps you and then bids you a good night.
The kiss Cregan left on your hands made you sigh and smile, the day had been long and tiring but being with Cregan was worth it, how his hair moved in the wind, how delicate his rough hands were and the way his voice rasped when he talked in the great hall. You were ashamed to admit it but you felt excitement and pleasure. You wanted to spend the moment with Cregan and have his body close to yours and feel his hands in yours.
You got under the endless pelts in the bed hoping to that sleep would find you but as you twisted and turned in bed making it impossible for you to rest, staring at the ceiling as you took a deep breath you started rub your thighs together and felt a tingling sensation where your womanhood was placed. You had one time felt that sensation when you saw servants in the Red Keep, the man was buried under the skirts of the woman and she clutched his hair and her mouth made an O shape, it was like she was drowning but at last she let out a gasp and the man slowed down and started to kiss her, you ran away before they could see you.
She felt like she was drowning and wanted to come back up for air, desperately wanting for air but not knowing how to breathe. You felt ashamed, you were a princess and this was not appropriate behavior. You finally gave up and got up from the bed and reached for the door and walked to the room where a maestar was located, you knocked on the door and the maestar opened.
“I am sorry for the late hour maestar but i have trouble finding any sleep, I was wondering if I could request a drought to help me?” you ask the man, who looks young and hale.
“Yes princess, I shall have it sent to your room if it pleases you.” he answered.
“Thank you.” you tell him and walk the cold corridor that leads to your room, you grab the door handle when you gasp, feeling the excitement you felt before once again clutching to your skirt and feeling your legs tremble.
You walked in and took off a layer of your nightgown trying to escape the burning heat that filled you up, pacing the room trying to catch your breath when a knock on the door drove your eyes to the door and opened it.
“Princess.”
It was Cregan, the maestar told Cregan what you needed and he delivered it personally. He held the bottle by the throttle with his arms crossed, the way his veins were illuminated by the torch in the hallway.
He barged into the room and placed the bottle on the table. You inhale the scent as he walks by you and once again feel that sensation but manage to contain your breath.
“Lord Cregan, the hour is late.” you tell him, ashamed to be feeling like this.
“Please, enough with the formalities, I am Cregan to you.” he says as he walks slowly to you, discarding his cloak.
“Cregan..” you say but he grabs your face and kisses you, a hand slides around your waist and takes hold on the nape of your neck, pushing deeper and deeper into the kiss and then going down to kiss your neck as a moan escapes your lips. You are lost in your thoughts and as you grab his hair he pushes back.
“I’m sorry princess, that was improper of me.” he says as he avoids eye contact and begins to walk away.
“Cregan” you shout at him, as you grab your chest and then you walk to him.
“I want this.” you say shyly, “I want you… to be touched by you.” you manage to form those words into a sentence with a shaky voice.
“Whatever the princess commands.” he answers and grabs your face and plants a harsh kiss on your lips with no warning and he begins to move your hair from your face to see the whole of your face. Then he stops and looks into your eyes.
“I will not sully you princess, you have my word.” he says, while caressing your cheek.
He leads you to the bed and motions you to sit down, looking at you with hungry eyes like a wolf looking at its prey as he removes your dress, shyness crept over you but you kept eye contact.
He kneels down facing your body and lift his two rough hands to separate your legs, revealing your womanhood and then he rises up to your face and starts kissing you as he places his body between your legs, you lay your back down on the furs as he starts leaving kisses on your body, the shoulders, the arms, the belly. Your soul was on fire, the constant kissing and touching made you twitch inside and with every kiss the fire grew larger and stronger. He placed your legs over his shoulders and began to place kisses in between your thighs and then started to kiss the place where you felt the burning sensation, he started to pleasure you with his mouth and with each breath you started to see stars, the way his hands grabbed your hips and thighs was just a beginning, he continued to be glued to your womanhood and you grabbed his hair and gasp, you had never felt that before. they way he stayed in a comfortable pace but also made sure you always felt pleasure, your back arched when he had started a faster pace and you started to feel your legs tremble and as you moaned out your body felt electric, this release was the thing you needed, he still touched you as you were calming down from your high and looked at you with glimmer in his eyes as you gasped and panted.
When he was finished with you, he climbed on top of you and started to kiss you passionately, the wetness from your womanhood still on his lips while he cupped your behind.
The two of you laid there together for a long while, he continued to kiss your shoulders and grasp your behind as you started drawing shapes on his chest, he didn’t leave you, he stayed with you.
“Princess.” Cregan says.
“It is Y/n, my name is Y/n.” you correct him.
“Y/n, I hope this did not scare you.” he asks.
“I’ll admit I was scared but when you touched me, something in me fired up, something I've been wanting to experience for some time. I thank you, my lord.” you say.
“My name is Cregan, you will call me Cregan.” he then says as he grabs your waist and rolls you under him as you laugh. You start kissing each other again and when sleep finally reaches you he leaves, making sure not to make a sound.
-
You wake up to the sound of ravens crying out, you call for Mariah and she gets you ready, helping you with your hair and riding attire. You thank her for the help and give her a bag of coins for her service which she accepts gleefully and runs off.
As you make your way to the courtyard to formally leave Winterfell you notice everyone looking at you, with a confused expression and also sadness. Your heart begins to race when you start thinking about what happened last night, did someone see you? or hear you with Cregan? Did Cregan himself tell someone? Your reputation will be ruined if word reaches the Queen.
You get to the courtyard and see the great host that has come to say goodbye to you. Cregan stands in the middle with a letter in his hands and looks at you, his eyes are glistening and looking at you with sorrowful eyes.
“My lord, is everything well?” you ask him.
He takes your hand and walks away from the crowd leading you to a secluded place and gives you the letter he was holding. It had the sigil of House Targaryen, likely from Dragonstone. He hands you the letter and gives you some space. As you read the letter, sadness overcomes you but also rage and guilt. In the letter that was signed by your mother, was the news on the death of your brother Lucerys, he had been slaughtered by your uncle Aemond when they met each other at Storm's End.
Your sweet younger brother was dead, he died alone with only his dragon who did not survive. They clashed into the sea and the red cape he wore tangled into his dragon's wing. Your mother had found it while searching for your brother.
You stared at the paper while tears began to run down your cheeks and you quietly walked away and then you broke down and hit the cold ground beneath you, clutching the letter and screaming cries of anguish and in the moment a loud roar was heard that shook the earth, Cregan flinched but you sat still letting cries and scream escape your body.
You stayed there for a while until Cregan came to you, putting his hand on your shoulder.
“The Queen requested you to return to Dragonstone at once princess, she will be wanting you back no doubt.” he said.
“The first thing Luke said to me after I claimed Vermithor was that I was now the rider of the second largest dragon in the world, almost the same size, I do wonder what would have happened if I went to Storm's End in place of Luke, I could’ve matched with Vhagars size and ferociousness.” you tell him in between sobs as you sit motionless.
“You cannot blame yourself.” Cregan says.
“I know I should not but I cannot help myself.” you cry out.
A thunderous roar came from above as Vermithor landed before you, walking towards you and shaking his entire body.
“Gather your army and march to Harrenhal, when the time is right you and I will lay waste to the Greens army.” you tell him as you take his hand.
“Winter will be coming for them, I swear this.”He places his lips on your hand and bows and walks away, he senses Vermithor getting himself ready to take flight and he backs away, allowing himself to be alone with your dragon.
“Gūrogon issa lenton.” you tell Vermithor, as you mount him, the tears on your face freezing as you go higher and higher, sadness quickly becomes rage as you think about Luke. The Greens will never know peace again. (take me home)
-
this is only part one! i am thinking of turning it into a series but we will see. hope you guys enjoyed!
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Whispering Woods
Pairing: Hiccup 'Horrendous’ Haddock III x Fem!Reader
Wordcount: 1k
Summary: When the world gets too much for you, you have the tendency to 'run' away sometimes. This time you and your dragon don't get the peace and quiet that comes with it for too long as it seems you have an admirer waiting to make their presence known.
Bingo: @eclipsingbingo with the square 'Hand Kisses'
(Y/N): Your name
(D/N): Dragon's name
(D/S): Dragon species
(W/C): Weapon of choice
*Gif does not belong to me
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It wasn't unusual for you to take a break from Berk every once in a while. Hopping on (D/N)'s back and flying off without a word to anyone else on the island. You knew it wasn't the smartest thing to do, not when Drago Bloodyfist or whatever Hiccup had called him recently attempted to take control of all of Berk's dragons, but you couldn't help yourself. There was nothing better the disappearing for a few hours with nothing but the wind in your hair, your (D/S) under you and the quietness that came with it.
The only repercussions for disappearing that you've ever gotten were some annoyed friends or a worried Hiccup, which you could say was one of the worse options since he tended to fret when you returned. Though anything was better than a mad Hiccup when you accidentally disappeared for three days and came back to half of Bekr looking for you since Hiccup had gotten worried enough to start a search party.
That's how you found yourself where you were now, surrounded by the quietness of a forest on some random island not too far away from Berk. The flight over had only taken twenty minutes as you and (D/N) took your time flying there.
(D/N) had slunk off not too long ago, making her own way through the forest as she explored, leaving you to your thoughts as you trailed after her, not trying very hard to keep up.
Berk had been hectic recently. Hiccup found his mum, Berk was attacked, you almost lost (D/N), and Stoick died... It was a lot to happen in the span of a few days, closer to a few hours if you don't count Hiccup's extended absence.
This island had seen worse for wear but there was still a lot of work that had to be done. Which you should be doing now but too many people were asking too much of you. You had also been avoiding meeting Hiccup's mum as the two of you had spared only a few words to one another when in the heat of battle.
It was a lot to think of all at once, so you found yourself off the island quicker than the Twins could say boar pit.
Being out here was doing wonders for your mind; calming you down and making it easier to think of nothing at all. It was all you could hope for, even if you knew you would have to head back soon unless you wanted Hiccup to deem this as another one of your escape attempts.
It was only when the forest got quieter than normal did you felt the need to come back to your senses, an actual need to be alert instead of walking around aimlessly as if you were on autopilot.
The soft thumping of (D/N)'s feet from ahead had stopped, along with the birds hidden in trees. The only noise that passed through was the rustling of leaves as a steady breeze glided through the woods. Your hand was itching down to grasp onto the small blade you had strapped to your belt, your (W/C) left on the saddle that (D/N) had run off with.
Before you had the chance to do anything though, a set of hands were slipping around your waist, tugging you back and into someone's chest softly. Years of Viking training were already kicking in as you raised an elbow, ready to dig it back with a low aim when someone caught onto your arm, stopping it in its motion.
"Hey," You struggled to get out, still trying to land a hit on the person behind you and push yourself away, attempting anything that would set you free.
"Calm down," A familiar voice laughed out, surprising you into stillness as your brain realised who it was. At your sudden stop, you were whirled around by the person who had disturbed you, being met with a bright smile and a deep set of green eyes as they bore into you. "I was wondering when you'd notice it was me."
"Hiccup," You deadpan, watching as the taller boy slowly pulled you closer, setting one of his hands on your waist without the hassle of a fight from you trying to dislodge it.
"(Y/N)," He copied, raising one of your hands with his free ones and bringing it up to his face, setting a soft brush of his lips on the back of it in the form of an extended greeting. You watched the motion with warm eyes, the annoyance that had crept up your spine dying down a bit.
"How long have you been here?" You questioned once your fingers got interlocked with his, not going to deny the soft touches as the both of your hands were brought down.
"Not long," Hiccup commented. Standing in front of you, Hiccup seemed like he didn't have a care in the world, reminding you of what you had left behind on Berk and how Hiccup himself could bring this feeling out of you. "Toothless saw you and (D/N) fly off not long ago and wanted to bring me to you so that he could play with them."
"Mm," You hummed, bringing your linked hands back up. For a short moment where your hands stayed hovering in the air, your lashes fluttering at Hiccup, you took him in, the small smile on your face expressing more words than you wanted to at the moment. Laying a kiss on the back of his hand, you murmur, "We better go find them then and make sure they don't get into too much trouble."
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l-uminescent · 9 months ago
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˚⁀➷。˚ REVENGE [PART TWO TO KINSLAYER] ━━━ AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM! READER
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part one.
synopsis: following your brave defeat of aemond targaryen in the battle of rook’s rest, your dragon silverwing delivers your body back to your mother in dragonstone. as you are discovered, a swearing of revenge is made as your body burns in its funeral pyre.
request: kinslayer is so good. would you ever write a little drabble to see the sadness of her family. especially her mother? also to see how this changed the dance. would you ever write a different ending? where before she fell silverwing saves her. like toothless did with hiccup. i adore it and need more. only if you want to of course.
notes: a bit longer than a drabble but i hope you enjoy anyways😭 thank you sm also to @dracaryxzs @hikaerys @delightfulbluebirdtidalwave & @quickamateur for requesting a part two of the black’s reaction to the reader’s death. i had so much fun exploring what the characters would feel like, esp jacaerys. tbh i don’t think i would write an alternative ending bc i just love writing angst wayyyy too much (it’s a problem)
there’s also a lack of jacaerys requests in my inbox which i think you should all fix by pressing here!
warnings: brief descriptions & mentions death, funeral pyre, angst, feelings of sadness after a death of loved one, burning, self-blame
word count: 1.9k
THE SHRIEKING SCREAM OF SILVERWING WAS THE ONLY THING THAT COULD BE HEARD FOR MILES. it was a shriek of pure pain, a cut wedged so deep had made its home in the poor dragon's heart as she had no choice but to watch on as you plunged your sword into aemond targaryen's eye. silverwing had tried her hardest to swoop down and rescue your body as both you and the man you loved plummeted to the ground in each other's arms. your limbs were intertwined with aemond's, your soul's holding the same love they had held many years ago in your final moments.
your body had crashed to the forest floor from the great height, dying immediately - still weaved with aemond's.
another heart-wrenching scream was heard from silverwing as the bond you two had shared had completely severed with your death. all she could do now was search the forest for you and bring back your fractured body to your mother. 
silverwing had gently picked up your body in her claws, so not to bring you anymore damage than the fall had done. she had completely disregarded the body of your previous lover, sword still plunged in his eye. small whimpers left her body as she rose slowly into the air flying back to dragonstone, having lost another rider had left the dragon in an immense amount of pain as you had reminded her greatly of the good queen alyssane, her first rider.
aegon having fled the battle the moment he had witnessed aemond's death had left rhaenys velaryon, your grandmother, with too little time to come to your aid. piercing cries escaped her lips as she could do nothing but watch you fall to your death. knowing this is what you had wanted still did not heed the tears that escaped her lilac eyes, nor did it stop the blame she held for herself as she accompanied your dragon back to dragonstone, wishing over and over that it had been her instead of you, something she knew she would wish until the end of her days. 
the shrieks of pain silverwing had let out alerted the dragon's on the island as she drew near. many stirred at the noise in fright, but none seemed to be as fretted as vermax, who had replied to silvering's bellow with one in return.
with the sound of her two children's dragon's shrieks, rhaenyra knew something was wrong. her gut instinct had told her something had happened to you, as jace remained safely within the castle. rushing to her balcony, she fixed her gaze intently across the sea for any sign of you, holding her breath as she noticed silverwing's flapping wings over the horizon. as she drew closer rhaenyra's eyes scanned her saddle, and noticing you weren't atop it her eyes flickered hastily down to her trembling claws. 
she was clutching your lifeless body. 
tears streamed down rhaenyra's face as she fell to the ground. uncontrallable sobs left her lips as her body violently shook in pain. admitting defeat she crumbled against the pillars of her balcony. as she did, her eyes bore into the sky above that painted in blues purples and oranges alike. she cursed at all the gods she could as it dawned on her this was what the sky held when lucerys had died just moons before. no amount of screams or curses at both the green's and gods would ever stop the blame that rhaenyra held for herself for your death, she knew you were not ready for battle yet she still sent you anyway. 
your heart still held onto the embers of girlhood which was seen in the way you teased jace, the joy you found when you played with your younger brother's and the soft smiled that adorned your lips as she combed and braided your hair with a gold plated brush. you were too young to pass. you were meant to outlive her, to live a happy life with a husband and children who you adored - something you would never get to do it now. rhaenyra's painful screams were carried off into the wind, her grief-stricken body stuck to the place she had fallen, as her gaze at the sky hardened. she swore that whatever force had killed you would be killed in return. she knew it would never bring you back, her only daughter was gone from this world, but she needed for herself to seek revenge in your name.
━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━
it had been jacaerys who had went to greet your dragon. the poor boy did not realise anything was amiss at first. he trodded happily down to your dragon to congratulate you on your first victory, proud of his younger sister. it wasn't until he noticed silverwing's sad demeanour, how her entire body trembled in despair, curled up into a ball not allowing any guard to pass through the wall she had made. as jace approached the dragon she murmured a small cry as she began to uncurl, the strange behaviour making his mind run rampant and tears start to prickle in his eyes.
no. no.
it was only a matter of seconds before jace's knees buckled, falling to floor where you lay stretched out on the floor. 
he couldn't believe it, you were so full of life only a mere few hours ago. 
reaching for you, he pulled your head onto his lap, cradling your body as he did. he couldn't stop the tears that poured from his cheeks landing softly on your skin, as sobs erupted from his lips. he had hoped in some delusional way, that you would somehow awake, that if he just stayed by your side cradling you, you would return and call him stupid for worrying so much.
the pain of lucerys had returned tenfold. he was meant to protect you, you were his younger sister for gods sake, only a year between the two of you, you had been as thick as theives. always teasing each other, throwing food across the table when petty arguments broke out. the two of you had stuck by each other's sides as you became aware of the questions that arose from the colour of your hair when luke was still too young to understand. you were meant to stay by his side, he had long since planned to make you his hand as you had always been there as his biggest advisor - the person he had trusted most in this world.
jacaerys like his mother, blamed himself. he should have been their to protect you, because that's what brother's are for, right?
there was no doubt he was a targaryen in that moment. his wetted eyes dried with a rage he had never felt before. he too swore at the sky, cursing every green, every god who had willed your fate, his voice breaking as he did. jacaerys did not care what life lay ahead of him in that moment, being heir was long from his mind as he bellowed that he would exact your revenge even if it meant he would die too. 
shallow breathes were taken as he brought his brown eyes onto your closed ones, still laying still in his lap. his anger had quickly faded at the sight of you again, his chest vibrating as he struggled to regain oxygen into his lungs. the softer side of jacaerys velaryon had once more returned as he allowed his forehead to rest against your cold one. his hands absentmindedly began to run through your hair, whispering soft "it will be okay" and "i love you's" as the tears silently fell from his glassy eyes, unsure of whether it was to reassure himself or you.
━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━
rain drops fell from the sky in a heavy rhythm, landing in small plops the cliff side where your family gathered for small funeral pyre after your body had be retrieved. it had been jacaerys who had suggested the place, knowing how you and luke had enjoyed coming up to sit peacefully and read together. 
the somber mood was evident as the rain continued to poor from the sky, each person having their heart ripped out from their chest all over again as they looked upon you body. you had almost looked like you were sleeping if it wasn't for the fact you had turned a sickly pale colour, and your chest failing to rise and fall with the inhale and exhale of oxygen.
the group of targaryen's, velaryon's and silverwing the dragon, gathered around the small wooden pyre as they said their final goodbye's to you. daemon had approached the wooden frame, placing the sword your drove deep into your lover's eye next to you that he had managed to retrieve. he hadn't been aware of how much the sword had meant to you, but to him it showed the fierce love and protection he had felt. despite not being his own daughter, he had loved you like one - always taking the time to teach you the art of sword fighting despite the other knight's looking down on it. he returned to his wife's side who nodded him in gratitude for loving her little girl the way a father should.
tears threatened to spill from jacaerys glassy eyes as he began to approach your body next, his hand clutched little joffrey's who was still too small to understand where his elder sister had left to and why she had yet to return. he had placed the letter's the two of you had exchanged when he had visited the north, the fascination you had for the wall had always brought a smile to his lips when you had asked him questions. even now, a watery smile played on his lips thinking of it as he returned to his place next to his mother. 
small sniffles could also be heard from the two targaryen girls - rhaena and baela - who stood on the opposite end of the pyre, the two girls reminiscing on the time you did spend together talking about boys, and giggling as you gossiped whilst sewing. their grandmother stood tall next to them as she gripped both their hands tightly, grounding herself with the thought that you would have wanted her to project the love she had for you onto your two cousins whom you had loved deeply.
the last to approach the pyre was your mother. her silent demeanour had been an obvious sign that her sadness had been replaced by a vicious anger that would not be calmed. leaning over the wood, she had placed the gold plated hair brush next to you, the very one she had combed your dark locks earlier that day creating the style you had always favoured, recalling how you had always begged her to do whilst you were still alive. 
rhaenyra's lips left a ghost of a kiss on your forehead before she stepped back. calling silverwing forward in high valyrian, the dragon let out a number of whimpers and cries as she knew what came next. 
"dracarys"
a single tear drop shed from rhaenyra's eyes as she turned away from the burning embers, her promise of revenge at the forefront of her mind. 
"broken by the loss of one son, rhaenyra targaryen seemed to find new strength in the loss of a second. her eldest daughter's death hardened her, burning away her fears, leaving only her anger and her hatred."
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