#that's been me with nyra for years

[i-mybrunettelady]

thinking about nyra's relationship with divinity. it's always been famously difficult for me to write about because it's so nebulous; it exists, certainly, it has since she was a kid, but it's so not the traditional paladin-esque devotion to a god that it makes it hard to pinpoint.

then i started writing my zine fic where a lot of these ideas came to a head and it's finally dawned on me that her object of devotion is not a god, or even her patron goddess lyssa, it's herself. to quote my own writing on that:

But Nyra’s a different kind of beast altogether, half-way heroic, half-way self-serving.

power recognizes power kinda thing. i don't think she sees herself as their equals - not fully, anyway - but it speaks volumes on her ever solid view of herself and how she's the center of her own world, for better or for worse. i know i talk about her ego a lot but it's literally one of her most defining traits and it really does influence how she interacts with the world around her. like, the only thing that can enrage her to the point of incoherence (not any productive anger) is the treatment she's getting not matching the idea of how she should be treated in her own mind.

and this little point also neatly marries another one - she's a recovering self-loathing sufferer, and that produces a certain hyper awareness of herself as well. she holds herself accountable sometimes to an overwhelming degree, which is something that actual gods don't seem to do all that often and that for her means that she can never be a god, but does she have a potential to? does she aspire to something as close to that as a mortal can achieve? yes.

her faith's a twisted and strange thing but it's very dear to me nonetheless and also why did i write a tragic hero

[pleasehurry-leaveme]

thinking about how whenever someone makes a positive edit of alicent every single clip of her looking genuinely happy is her younger self and she's always looking at rhaenyra

[dreamdragonkadia]

would you consider writing a jealous xaden riorson? please andd thank youuu 🥹🥹

I thought about writing this into a spicy scene, but I am so out of practice that I didn't want to mess it up. x.riorson x reader

You hadn’t thought to bring it up. Not because you were hiding anything—but because it just... hadn’t mattered. It had been before becoming a rider. Before the Gauntlet. Before Threshing. Before Xaden Riorson had started looking at you like the world might crack in two if you didn’t make it through the next challenge.

You and Septon Izar had ended things cleanly, amicably, and left it at that. He’d been a friend before, and somehow, he still was—one of the few people who hadn’t flinched when you first started sitting with the marked ones. Honestly, his support during that time had meant more than you'd ever said aloud.

And honestly? Since Xaden? You hadn’t thought about Septon once. And maybe, maybe, you had mentioned it to Xaden. In passing. At most.

But judging by the sudden silence that swept through the dining hall—and the way Xaden’s head snapped toward you the second Septon opened his mouth—you definitely hadn’t mentioned that part.

"I think we only had sex twice," Septon said casually, sipping from his cup like he hadn’t just tossed a live drake into the center of the table. “And both times we were pretty drunk.”

You blinked.

What?

Your fork hovered above your plate as the table fell into a mixture of choked laughter and stunned silence. Garrick muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like oh shit. Nyra was already dragging her hands down her face. Bodhi looked delighted. Of course he did—this had his meddling written all over it.

You squinted up at Septon. “Man, that was so long ago, I barely remember.”

Xaden didn’t say anything.

Didn’t have to.

Not when you could feel the way his gaze landed on you—deadly calm, unreadable, and very, very still.

Someone coughed. Garrick kicked Bodhi under the table. Septon, gods bless his complete lack of self-preservation, raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not like it meant anything,” he added, glancing between you and Xaden with a shrug. “We were just—”

"Don’t," Xaden said, voice low and even, but it carried like a cold front.

The entire table froze.

“Anyway,” you said quickly, forcing a smile as you turned your attention down the table, “Nyra, I don’t think I’ve ever heard about your physical escapades. Please, if we’re airing things out, do share.”

There was a pause.

Then Nyra leaned back with a knowing small grin. “Which year?”

And just like that, the conversation shifted. Nyra launched into a truly unhinged story involving a third-year from Rider’s Quadrant, two years ago and a storage closet full of training gear.

Everyone moved on.

Except you.

Because while the rest of the table erupted into laughter, Bodhi caught your eye and gave you a subtle salute—good luck with that—and Xaden’s shadows curled around your calves in a slow, possessive climb.

You had really thought that would be it. Completely and utterly it. There was nothing there.

You and Septon were barely a footnote, a hiccup in your timeline. But clearly, someone at the table had missed that memo—and that someone was now walking three paces behind you, silent, shadows brushing the edge of your steps like a warning.

You turned the corner just past the gym hall, fully intending to head toward the dorms, but a hand caught your arm—not rough, but firm—and suddenly, you were being pulled into a recessed archway you hadn’t even noticed.

Xaden didn’t speak at first.

Just looked at you.

That onyx stare that made it feel like he was peeling back your skin to see what was underneath. His jaw was tight, shadows curling restlessly around his boots.

“You’re mad,” you said flatly.

“I’m not mad,” he said. “I’m…” He exhaled through his nose, like he was trying to force the word back in. “You never told me.”

“I didn’t think I had to,” you shot back, arms folding. “It was nothing, Xaden. It was before.”

His brow twitched. “I watched him look at you like he still wanted something.”

“He was talking to Bodhi!”

“He was talking to you.”

You stared at him, pulse thrumming harder than it should’ve been. “Are you seriously jealous right now?”

His shadows surged, crawling up your spine like a storm about to break.

“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m possessive. There’s a difference.”

Your back hit the wall.

His hand came to rest beside your head, not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him in waves. His voice dropped lower, into that gravel-smooth edge that made your knees a little unstable.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, eyes flickering down to your mouth, “and I don’t like being surprised.”

Your heart tripped over itself.

And because your pride had a death wish, you arched a brow and said, “Well, maybe I do.”

That was apparently the final straw.

He kissed you like it was a declaration, like he had to remind you—remind himself—that he knew every part of you better than anyone ever had. His hands found your hips, grip just shy of rough, and your fingers curled in his shirt like you needed something to hold onto before the ground gave way.

“Tell me again,” he said against your lips, voice thick with something that wasn't just anger, “how it meant nothing.”

Your breath caught—because you couldn’t. Not with the way he was looking at you. The only thing that mattered.

“It didn’t,” you whispered, barely audible. “It didn’t mean anything.”

He lingered there, just for a second, his forehead brushing yours as if he was searching for the truth in your skin. And then, with no more warning than a flick of his shadows, he pulled back just enough to say, “Come with me.”

You followed him without thinking.

Past cadets loitering in the halls, past flickering sconces and low murmurs, up flights of stairs that you barely registered because your heart was thundering in your chest. Xaden didn’t look back once—but his shadows stayed close, curling possessively around your wrist like a tether, a silent mine whispered over and over again in the dark.

By the time you reached his room, your pulse was high in your throat.

He opened the door, stepped inside—and then, just as you were about to follow, his hand shot out.

And pulled you in.

Hard.

You stumbled, but only for a heartbeat—because he was already there, catching you, pinning you back against the closed door with a thud that echoed in the silence.

“You think I care that it happened before me?” he murmured, his mouth brushing along your jaw, your neck. “I don’t.”

You shivered.

“I care that you didn’t tell me,” he continued, his hand sliding to your waist, hot through the thin fabric of your shirt. “I care that he thought he could say your name like that. Look at you like that.”

“Xaden—”

“I’m not going to be polite about it,” he interrupted, voice a low rasp. “I’m not going to pretend I’m okay hearing another man talk about what’s mine like it’s some casual memory.”

His lips found the corner of your mouth again, softer this time. A contrast to the words that came next.

“You’re not his story to tell.”

Your breath hitched.

“You want to tell me it meant nothing?” he asked, gaze catching yours with such intensity it felt like a command. “Then let me show the world who you belong with.”

Your hands fisted in his shirt, dragging him down.

And he did.

[romerona]

The swan Princess; Westeros Version.

Okay so, I can’t this out of my brain so just imagine this with me:

The reader-insert Targaryen Princess, the younger sister of Rhaenyra by about 16-17 years, and the second daughter of King Viserys and the late Queen Aemma x Lord Cregan Stark in a dynamic inspired by The Swan Princess.

Viserys and Rickon Stark arrange for the princess and Cregan to be wed once she comes of age. To build familiarity, they reunite them every few years (a rare moment of decency among men in House of the Dragon, but let's roll with it).

However, from a young age, they absolutely despise each other, setting the stage for a classic love-hate relationship.

Young fem Targ reader x young Cregan Stark.

Warnings: kids being kids.

Next

The towering walls of Harrenhal surround you like sentinels, their dark history hidden beneath the banners of red and black for your name day celebration. It's your sixth name day, and the great hall is alive with music, laughter, and the scent of roasted meats. Nobles mill about in their finest, offering you warm smiles, expensive gifts and endless congratulations. You curtsy, thank them, and do all the things a proper princess should.

You’ve been told countless times how loved you are—how your bright smile and kind words can soften even the grumpiest lord. But the truth is, your feet ache from standing, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and you missed you sister Nyra, she couldn’t attend. You’re already planning your escape.

Your father’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“Come, sweetling,” King Viserys beckoned warmly, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “There is someone I would have you meet.”

With his guiding presence, he led you across the hall to a man of imposing stature, his broad shoulders and solemn expression marking him unmistakably as a lord of the North—Lord Rickon Stark. Beside him stood a boy, perhaps a few years your elder, with a mane of dark curls and piercing grey eyes that seemed to observe the world with unnerving precision.

“Lord Stark, I trust your journey was swift and uneventful?” your father inquired with the easy grace of a king accustomed to courtesies.

Lord Rickon inclined his head in a deep bow, he straightened from his bow, his voice deep and steady, carrying the weight of northern formality.

“Your Grace, the journey was as kind as one could hope this time of year. The North sends its regards, and I am honored to stand in your presence once more. Thank you for the honor of hosting us.” He glanced at you and also bow, “May the princess’s name day bring joy to all who celebrate it.”

You smile politely, dipping into a curtsy. “Thank you, my lord. It’s a pleasure to meet you and your family.”

Rickon gestures to the boy at his side. “This is my son and heir, Cregan.”

Cregan steps forward, bowing stiffly. It’s obvious he’s not used to it. He’s taller than you expected, and there’s something about the way he holds himself that reminds you of the knights in your father’s court—serious, reserved, and trying far too hard to look older than he is.

“Princess,” he says in a deep, measured voice, “happy name day. I hope it has been a joyful celebration.”

You smile at him, tilting your head.

“Thank you, my lord. It has been lively.” Your tone is polite, but you can’t help teasing him a little. He seems so serious, like he’s never laughed a day in his life.

Your father turned to speak with Lord Rickin about something you honestly had no interest in. Instead you turn to the boy, the young Lord, Cregan Stark.

“Do you always speak like that?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

Cregan blinks, clearly taken aback. “Like what?”

“So formal,” you say with a grin. “Do you practice in front of a mirror?”

His ears turn red, but he doesn’t lose his composure. “It’s important to speak with respect,”

You’re about to tease him further when your father nudges you gently. You remember your manners and curtsy again, leaving Cregan to stare after you as you’re whisked away to greet the next guest.

Later that evening, after what feels like hours of endless conversation and feasting, you finally find your chance to slip away. The gardens outside Harrenhal are quiet and cool, a welcome escape from the noise of the hall. The moonlight dances on the fountains, and the scent of night-blooming flowers fills the air.

You’re wandering down a stone path when you spot him—Cregan Stark. He’s crouched under a tree, poking at the dirt with a stick.

“You’re not supposed to leave the hall,” you say, your sudden voice startling him.

He shoots to his feet, hastily brushing dirt off his tunic as though it might erase his guilt.

“Neither are you,” he counters, his tone careful yet edged with a hint of accusation.

You arch a brow, crossing your arms. “I’m the princess. I can do as I please.”

“That’s not true,” he retorts, his grey eyes narrowing as he mirrors your posture. “The king said the garden is off-limits.”

A sly smirk curls your lips, your lilac eyes gleaming with mischief. “Well, my father isn’t here, is he?”

Cregan’s frown deepens, his expression growing more serious. “If something happens to you, it’ll be my fault.”

Ignoring him, you take a step closer, letting your gaze drop to the stick he clutches. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Were you digging for treasure?”

His shoulders stiffen as he quickly moves the stick behind his back. “That’s none of your concern.”

Your grin widens, delighted at his discomfort. “So you were digging for something!”

“I wasn’t!” he insists, his ears tinged with a flush of embarrassment.

“Let me see,” you say, darting forward with a burst of energy and snatching the stick from his hand before he can react. You hold it aloft like a trophy, inspecting it with exaggerated curiosity. “What is this supposed to be?”

“It’s just a stick,” Cregan replies, his tone laced with exasperation, as if he couldn’t believe you were making such a fuss.

You tilt your head, pretending to examine it like it’s some ancient artifact. “Were you digging for dragon eggs? Gold, perhaps?”

His cheeks flush, and he glares at you. “Stop teasing me!”

But teasing him is far too entertaining to stop now. You smirk, twirling the stick.

“Or maybe you’re looking for a duel,” you say, taking a step back and mimicking a defensive stance you’d seen knights adopt in the courtyard during their sparring sessions.

Cregan raises an eyebrow at you, incredulous. “I’m not fighting a girl. And a princess, no less.”

You narrow your eyes at him, your grin growing wider. “Why not? Afraid, Stark?”

He bristles immediately, straightening his posture. “I am not afraid,”

“Really? Then prove it,” you challenge, tapping the stick against the ground like a knight preparing to strike.

Before he can respond, you jab the stick lightly at his side, making him jump. “Ow!”

You laugh as he lunges for the stick, easily sidestepping him.

“You're slow," you taunt, spinning the stick like you've seen the knights do.

It's far too big for your small hands, but you make it work, grinning all the while.

Cregan narrows his grey eyes, his jaw tightening.

"I'm not slow," he says, his voice low and deliberate.

"Prove it, then," you say with a smirk, backing away a step. "Show me what the great Stark of the north can do."

He hesitates, glancing down at the mud smudging his boots, as if weighing the consequences.

“It wouldn't be honorable," he says stiffly, his tone full of the self-importance you've come to expect from boys who think they're men.

You roll your eyes. "You're no fun, Stark. What's the point of being a lord if you can't even defend your honor from a girl with a stick?"

His cheeks flush redder. "It's not proper to fight a princess!"

"Then you'd better run," you say, raising the stick and charging at him.

Caught off guard, Cregan stumbles back, his hands flying up in defense.

“Stop that!" he growls, but you've already jabbed him lightly in the side.

"First blood!" you declare triumphantly, poking him again before he can react.

"That's enough!" he snaps, grabbing for the stick, but you dance out of reach, laughing all the while.

"Not until you admit l've bested you," you tease, circling him with the mock seriousness of a seasoned warrior.

"Never," he mutters, his brows drawing into a stormy line.

But you don’t stop. You jab him again, then again, each time with just enough force to make him flinch. His face turns red—not from pain, but from anger—and you can’t help but laugh at how easy it is to rile him up.

“That’s enough!” he snaps, lunging forward and grabbing for the stick. His sudden movement catches you off guard, and you stumble, the stick slipping from your grasp.

The two of you freeze for a moment, glaring at each other, breathing hard. Then, as if on cue, the tension explodes again, and the scuffle resumes, this time with both of you trying to wrestle control of the stick.

The tugging begins. You yank the stick one way, he pulls it back with equal force. The push and pull grows more intense with every second, the dirt beneath your feet slipping as you both struggle for control.

“Let go!” he growls through gritted teeth, his stance wide and firm.

“You let go!” you fire back, gripping the stick with all the determination of a dragon refusing to yield its hoard.

You yank the stick back with all the determination your small hands can muster, and Cregan pulls harder in retaliation. The scuffle becomes a tug-of-war, and with one final, unsteady pull, you both lose your footing.

You fall first, landing ungracefully on the grass. Thankfully, you’re spared the mud, but the same cannot be said for Cregan. He topples beside you, landing with a loud squelch in the wet muck.

For a moment, the garden is silent save for your uneven breaths. You push yourself up, brushing grass off your skirt, and glance at him. His tunic is streaked with mud, his hair tousled from the fall, and a dark streak smudges his cheek like a careless smear of war paint.

You press your lips together, trying to stifle it—but it’s no use. Laughter bursts out of you, uncontrollable and bright.

Cregan turns his head sharply, his grey eyes narrowing as he sits up stiffly.

“Why are you laughing?” His tone is formal, but there’s a sharp edge to it, his annoyance barely restrained.

You hold your sides, laughing harder at his expression.

“Because—” you manage between giggles, pointing at his face, “—because you look ridiculous! Like a pig in a mud pit!”

Cregan stiffens, his jaw tightening. “You are hardly in a position to jest, Princess. You’re the one sitting in the dirt!”

His words make you laugh even harder, and for a moment, it seems like he might let it go. But then his temper flares, and with deliberate precision, he scoops up a handful of mud.

Before you can react, the cold, wet clump splatters across the front of your gown. You gasp, your laughter replaced with sheer outrage gasp.

“You big brute!” you exclaim, rising to your knees. You scoop up your own handful of mud and hurl it back at him with all the righteous indignation of a wronged queen.

The mud hits his shoulder, leaving a dark smear on the fine fabric of his tunic. His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks genuinely shocked. Then his lips press into a thin line, and he glares at you with all the gravity an eight-year-old can muster.

He grabs another handful of mud, flinging it with far more force this time. You shriek as it lands on your sleeve, and without hesitation, you retaliate.

The garden becomes your battleground. Mud flies through the air as you dodge and lunge, your giggles ringing out as Cregan growls in frustration. He tries to maintain his formality even as he hurls clumps of dirt at you.

“Your behavior is unbefitting of a princess!” he calls, though the mud streaking his face makes him look anything but dignified.

“And yours is no better for a lord!” you reply gleefully, tossing another clump that narrowly misses him.

By the time your attendants arrive, the scene they stumble upon is one of complete chaos. You’re both caked in mud from head to toe, your gown a ruined mess, and his tunic utterly unrecognizable.

“Your highness!” one of your handmaidens exclaims, rushing forward. “What in the name of the Seven happened here?”

“She attacked me!” Cregan says immediately, straightening his posture despite the mud dripping from his hair.

“You threw the first mud!” you counter, pointing at him with a haughty tilt of your chin.

The attendants exchange exasperated looks as they pull you both to your feet, fussing over the state of your clothes and muttering about what your fathers will say when they see this.

The second encounter.

[spacerockfloater]

Alicent and Criston have every right to be together.

I’ve read a lot of posts regarding their non-existent hypocrisy and I’d like to clear some things up.

First and foremost, stop using Alicent’s “Where is duty, where is sacrifice?” line against her or Nyra’s outrageous “Exhausting, wasn’t it?” speech because you think you’re eating when you’re, in fact, starving. Alicent has done her duty and sacrificed herself. It’s the only thing she’s been doing for the past 20 years. She gave the man she was forced to marry four children and she took care of him despite all the shit he put her through. She has lived all her life based on her principles and now her husband is gone. She mourned him, she buried him, it’s been more than 10 days since his death (confirmed that E1 S2 takes place 10 days after Lucerys’ death) and she is finally fucking free. She deserves a sliver of comfort. Alicent is the only one in this series that’s been faithful and dutiful to a T, yet look where that got her. If someone has the right to break the law a little bit, it’s definitely her.

That being said, I don’t know when it was decided that Alicent is a pious saint that can do no wrong, but I need to remind y’all that following a religion does not magically prevent you from sinning. Is she committing fornication? Obviously. However, you are all under this impression that this is hypocritical on her behalf because she berated Rhaenyra for it when they were younger, without considering that her anger was justified for a myriad of other reasons, such as (but not limited to): 1) the fact that Rhaenyra’s freedom to marry whomever she pleased was a privilege granted to her thanks to Alicent’s efforts, who supported her even if Rhaenyra hated her, yet her friend casually threw that away, 2) the fact that Rhaenyra lied to her by swearing on her morher’s grave and never even mentioned Criston, 3) the fact that Rhaenyra had the guts to call her “sister” while lying to her face, 4) the fact that her lies resulted in Otto getting fired since Rhaenyra misled Alicent so that she speaks to Viserys in favour of her friend and betraying her own father by siding against him (a decision she wouldn’t have made if she knew the truth), leaving her completely alone and friendless at court, even if he was right all along and finally 5) the fact that Rhaenyra is the most sought after bachelorette in the whole world and by having sex she undermines herself (Rhaenyra knows this well, hence why she denies these accusations) and literally endangers herself, because had she been married to any other man but Laenor and had this man found out his wife and future queen is not a virgin, imagine the fucking horrors she could have been subjected to. Like, I hate to break it to you, but a 40-year-old widow, who’s had four kids and has completed her duty to the point where she is actually no longer needed and could leave the palace to go live the rest of her life in peace somewhere else and no one would notice her absence (literally though, she has birthed heirs, her husband is dead, her son is a grown adult king, her job is done there), having sex, is not the same as an 18-year-old princess and future heir in her prime, whose purity is linked to her worth, getting caught drunk in a brothel, hooking up with her uncle and losing her virginity to her guard, all in one night. Viserys himself was outraged. There’s lows and then there’s lows, y’all.

By the way, the crazy assumptions that Alicent has been cheating on Viserys with Criston for a while now need to stop. When Olivia Cooke said that they had filmed a messy sex scene with Fabien Frankel in a recent interview, she never said this was for S1 of HOTD. I don’t know where y’all got that from, but even if it was true, that scene has been scrapped so it is not canon. And don’t make me laugh about Daeron, a dragon rider who canonically has Valyrian features, potentially having brown hair. You’re all so blinded by your hatred for Alicent that you want her to be a lying hypocrite in order to make yourselves feel better about Rhaenyra’s mishaps, that you don’t get that the whole point of her and Criston getting physical is that she is a tortured woman who is finally able to break free, not that she has been a hypocrite all along. You’re heavily misunderstanding her arc.

Finally, when it comes to my good man Criston, y’all have lost it completely. No, Alicent is not raping him, unless he tells her to stop and she closes the door behind her like Rhaenyra did that is. No, Criston did not lie about how important his honour is to him. There’s a whole article on how Clare Kilner, the director of E4 S1, decided that Cole removing his armour slowly was necessary because it symbolises his inner conflict and uncertainty over breaking his vow: should he soil his cloak for the sake of the woman he loves? And he does soil it, because he thinks she loves him back. But that honourable man dies the day Rhaenyra tells him that he’ll never be anything more than a side piece to her. This man stops giving a flying fuck about his honour, oath, position and life. He is trying to kill himself. And you know what stops him? Alicent. Alicent is the only thing between him and death, the only person to show him kindness and understanding, to pull him up from the lowest point in his life. I don’t think you heard Alicent in E7 S1: “No, you’re sworn to me!”. Y’all. His life is hers. He doesn’t care about Rhaenyra, his job, Viserys, anyone else at this point. Only Alicent exists in his mind, Fabien himself has said time and time again that his loyalty to her is unwavering. He only exists for Alicent’s sake. He’s who you wish Daemon was. Crying that “Criston is a bad knight and a liar because he broke his chastity oath yet again!” is so pointless because that knight has been dead since Rhaenyra’s marriage to Laenor. What does an oath mean when you find out the people you swore it to have betrayed you? Why should he keep his promise to the people who abused him?

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 19: (Smut)

Summary: In the wake of Rhysand’s ascension as High Lord, the Bone Carver gifts a prophecy. More than five hundred years later, Azriel continues to wait for the one who is finally reborn as his High Lady’s sister. All it takes is a dip in the Cauldron for things to start falling into place.

Chapter Summary: The plot thickens (the plot is Azriel's cock). And now, Nyra knows.

Warnings: smut, full-blown smut, Azirel's hands, Azriel's fingers, oral sex (female receiving), minors please stay away.

Author's message: A very huge thank you to my newest beta readers for Eye of the Storm @div94 and @seasonallyapril ✨✨ I could not come up with the title of the chapter 😂😂

@feerique always and eternally grateful to you!!✨✨

Word count: 3.3k (Enjoy!!)

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

You’re the Mother’s most beautiful creation. Azriel’s voice reverberated through their connection as he looked at her. 

And he was thankful that she was here, choosing him.

To undress her.

To part her thighs.

It was an honour of the highest level. 

And patience was something he thought he wouldn’t have with Nyra once he got his chance. But even then, the sense of wonder remained as he saw and touched his mate for the first time. 

His scarred fingers touched her inner thighs, pressing and rubbing the skin gently and firmly. Touching her felt like some form of salvation. 

Even more so as she gasped his name. Like it was a prayer. 

His name sounded like a prayer. 

And she was wet. 

He pressed his thumb against her slit and gently dragged it upwards. He could feel her clit and hear the gasps his touch induced. His hands came to the underside of her thighs and dragged her to the edge of the bed. 

And with all the gentleness he could muster, he brought his tongue from the end and dragged it through her slit, taking a generous taste of her. 

Such a fucking delicacy. After that, there was no stopping him. 

He’d had a taste.

And he was thirsting for more. 

Thank you for the meal. And he began feasting. 

Azriel had a wicked mouth. A really wicked one. Because the precision with which the male was targeting her clit had Nyra trembling like a leaf. 

His tongue teased her slowly, gently. And just when she wanted to tell him that she wanted more, she felt one of his fingers slowly enter her pussy. 

A moan escaped her at the intrusion, it being slightly painful in the beginning and bringing much more pleasure afterwards. 

And he began pulling the finger out, making her whimper. He pushed it back again. 

And this time, in her desperation, Nyra clenched around that finger. Such a good girl. All ready to clench around my cock like that. 

In between her pleasure, Nyra was quite shocked at the dirty talk. Since when was he talkative in this manner?

I want to talk to you. She heard his response. His tongue flicked her clit. Another finger slowly entered her, disappearing knuckle-deep inside her with the first. She moaned again. And when you make sounds like that, I want to tell you all about my depraved fantasies. 

It was a swirl of different points of pleasure uniting in her abdomen. His mouth, his fingers, the shadows. 

It was overwhelming. He had her laid down on the bed, legs spread nicely for him before he kneeled and began worshipping her with his mouth, feasting on her like he’d been craving for her his entire life. 

His fingers were slowly moving, as if to savour the moment. They were definitely larger and thicker than her own. And the scars felt so undeniably good, it felt like sin. 

Her body arched and twisted. “Azriel.” 

Let me quench my thirst. And as long as she didn’t interrupt his feast, Azriel allowed her movements. His hold on her thigh, his scars. How perfect they were. 

Her breasts ached for his hands. Every part of her ached for his hands.She wanted them on her shoulders, waist, hips, her hair. She wanted him to grab her skin roughly and not simply graze and tease her skin. 

Her want was becoming unbearable with Azriel only paying attention to her cunt. 

But even that part of her ached. She wanted him for two years and every intimate touch on her body seemed like a poor substitute to a hypothetical situation where they would’ve fucked each other.

Not so hypothetical anymore, don’t you think? He sounded confident. She liked it.

Thank you for the reality. Her snarky response earned her a bite on the inner thigh. 

Interested in remaining a brat?

Only if you’re going to fuck it out of me. 

Azriel stilled at her reply. She looked at him and found him looking at her with wide eyes. She began worrying, her upper body rising and a hand extending to touch his cheek. “What happened?” 

He leaned into her palm, eyes closing in contentment. And then he looked at her. “Have you always been such a dirty girl?”

She smiled teasingly. “And what if I have?” 

Azriel grabbed the side of her throat, his thumb on her jaw and angled her face the way he wanted to kiss her. His hand slid across her jawline, disappearing into her thick curls, fingers weaving themselves into her hair before he pulled.

Her breasts pressed against him, ridding him of reason. 

Why was she still wearing that bra?

Not that he had many complaints about how she looked in black lace but it should have been disposed of by now.

Even with Nyra sitting on the bed and Azriel kneeling at the side of it, he was taller. And larger. And so much warmer. His wings trembled before relaxing and spreading as much as they could. The shadows played with her hair and neck and she pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. 

How are you feeling? The question came as a surprise to her. 

Nyra pulled back to look him in the eye.There was no doubt that they were both ravenous for each other. Azriel with one hand in her hair and one gripping the flesh of her waist and Nyra with both hands around his neck. 

Quite satisfied. Thank you very much. She smiled against his lips when he chuckled. 

“Tell the shadows when you want to stop.” He knew fully well that he was not going to stop on his own. That he couldn’t stop on his own even if he wanted to.

"All right." The shadows would be her safeguard. They’d been given the order to place her commands over his. But then, a mischievous one snipped the straps of her bra. 

A few more bold tendrils removed the remnants of her bra, as if they were presenting their mistress’s breasts for the view. And Azriel remained in stunned silence, looking at her breasts, wondering if he was hallucinating. 

He pinched a nipple and Nyra whimpered. 

Gods. These breasts were real. He wasn’t imagining them. 

He kissed her softly. “My darling goddess.”

She moaned into his mouth. And all the softness in their kiss went to hell as he began devouring her. 

Azriel slowly descended to her breasts, leaving the evidence of his mouth behind in the form of dark marks and saliva. 

“So fucking pretty.” His mouth latched on to a nipple. Gods. Her breasts had aroused another level of obsession. 

Soft breasts. Pretty nipples. Azriel was pleased his shadows agreed. He’d take his time with these wonderful breasts and it’d never be enough. 

“Azriel.” He loved his name. Loved how she called him. How she moaned it. Fuck. 

Every sound she made, every breath she took—all of it went straight to his cock. 

A particularly harsh suck and her body arched for him, pushing those perfect breasts into his face. His gratitude was at its highest. When are you ever going to stop surprising me with your beauty?

What? Her voice through that connection was nearly enough to make him come. 

Your breasts are beautiful. Azriel met her gaze, still under the haze of his own admiration.

Thank- Oh! She moaned through that connection. And Azriel felt a pull against his chest. He needed to feel that again. So he got to work. 

He thanked the cauldron everyday for his mate. He knew he’d have a hard time restraining himself from grabbing her at every second, waking or otherwise. 

But his cock had other priorities. He needed to be inside her. He needed that pretty pussy clenching around his cock, squeezing him till he came inside her. 

Mistress. Mistress. Mistress. Many shadows began calling her. May we touch your breasts? Please. Please. Please. 

Yes. And the shadows nearly covered all of her breasts. Their caress was cool against her skin. Her eyes closed and she enjoyed it. 

She was beginning to get used to this. To the shadows touching her intimately. Their gentle, teasing touch. A gasp escaped her when they began teasing her nipples. 

Did you forget me already? Azriel continued to radiate warmth, a contradiction to the cool shadows he commanded. 

Maybe. She peered up at him and she thought she’d be too shy to maintain eye contact but fuck, he was such a breathtaking sight. 

A layer of sweat on his tanned skin made it gleam. His gaze was an arresting sensation. Mouth wet from their kiss and the time he spent between her legs. 

Azriel looked very much eager to touch her more. I am. He conceded. I want to touch you, Nyra. To give you pleasure in every manner possible. 

A hand came towards her breast and the shadows cleared away, revealing it for him. 

She sighed at the feeling of his scars on her. Her nipple grazed the uneven layers of his skin, back bowing in satisfaction. 

Azriel leaned in towards the other, the shadows once again clearing away for him before his mouth kissed the other nipple. 

Nyra was overwhelmingly eager for Azriel’s cock. And the male was busy feasting on her breasts as if he could actually eat them to satiate his hunger. 

And then he was crawling above, pressing that thick, veiny cock on her belly. Her hand found it and she cherished his groan as she pumped it. 

“When?” She demanded. And his gaze flared with realisation. 

Azriel felt it all. 

Felt her desire for him. 

Felt her desire for his hands.

His scarred hands.

His cock.

She was far too alluring for him to retain any of his senses. And he let himself be led by what he desired and what he could feel from her. 

The shadowsinger lifted her from the edge of the bed and threw her towards the middle of the bed. At the sign of no longer being treated as a delicate creature, Nyra felt her enthusiasm hike up. 

Azriel loomed over her, effectively separating her from the world. His wings spread before they rested on the bed, cocooning them in the dark with very little light but enough to see each other’s faces and make out where parts of their body might be. 

She brought her hand to his cheek and Azriel kissed her.

I’ve waited for you for far longer than I thought possible. Five hundred and seven years, two months, one week, and three days. He didn’t know if he could ever tell her. 

And the way Nyra was looking at him, all attracted to him. It went to his ego and by extension, his cock. 

His cock was easily pressed against that belly. Gods, he could nearly feel it. He pumped his cock a couple of times before he brought it to her thighs. “Spread your legs.” 

She obeyed, her impatience and desire now palpable. 

“Further.” He commanded gently, firmly. She complied. 

His tip touched her clit and gently dragged down the wet slit and found where he’d enter her. 

“Hold on.” He rasped, unable to contain his own pleasure as he began pushing in. 

Nyra felt the stinging sensation as his cock entered her. He was far thicker than she’d expected even when she’d felt it against him and touched it. Breathing was a task and it was difficult given how Azriel was literally taking her breath away with every inch of him that entered her. 

Nyra cried and gasped and moaned at the intrusion as it slowly happened. Her hands were clutching at the flesh of his back and his arm. “Azriel.”

She’d cry. She’d definitely cry. Why was he so thick? It hurt and yet, the pain was fading away into pleasure so overwhelming she knew she’d sink and drown and die in it. 

Above her, Azriel was hauling the air in, gasping at the sheer warmth of Nyra’s pretty cunt. He bit her ear and then bit her neck. Holy gods, he was not even completely inside and he was holding on to the sheets to somehow not come. 

He’d expected pleasure. Was greedy for it. The shadows would sometimes randomly rant about something they’d studied about mates and the sexual part of it always had him hard. Studies written about how sex with mates was far more pleasurable and had an intimacy and depth because of the bond. 

And right now, he couldn’t help but agree. 

“Az.” She whined. “Why are you not moving?” 

It was a normal question. Something that she’d ask naturally since he was inside her and had gone completely still. 

Azriel still needed to breathe. He looked at her pretty face, pleasure written all over it. “Because I’m not in completely.” 

A filthy groan escaped him when he felt her clench around his cock. At the same time, she’d whimpered. “You want all of me?” He asked hoarsely. 

Yes. Her consent surrounded his senses through their bond. And Azriel sheathed himself in a quick thrust, eliciting moans from both of them. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was too good to be real. Her pussy was tight and warm around him. 

The mating bond was pulsing with their pleasure. Azriel pulled himself back and Nyra made a noise of displeasure before he thrusted back in, making her moan obscenely. 

The more pleasure she felt, the more pride entered him. To be able to pleasure his mate, it was an honour. And he began moving, slowly, with patience he didn’t know he had. 

Azriel kissed her cheeks, heard all of her whimpers and cries. The shadows were doing their job of restraining him in case he’d be too much. 

Nyra was so lovely, writhing beneath him, crying and gasping. So endlessly lovely. 

What if he kept her all to himself? 

What if he lived with his cock nestled snugly inside her pussy? 

What if he kept her filled with his cock and came inside her as much as he could? 

Stars above, if that wasn’t heaven, he wasn’t sure what was. 

Nyra was still overwhelmed even with his languid thrusts. It was still difficult to breathe and it was still difficult to adjust to his cock in her. “Please.”

“What do you want?” He sounded hungry. Desperately hungry and he wanted more. She knew that. She wanted him too. 

“I. . anghh. . want more. . harder. . please.” She couldn’t care for the lack of coherency in her request. She moaned again as his cock pushed against something deep and sensitive within her.

Nyra couldn’t hold onto him any longer. Her body no longer had any strength to act according to her. She was pliant and her hands fell to her sides. All she could do was fist the sheets as Azriel continued his pace. 

He halted and kissed her temple. “Are you sure?” 

Nyra looked at him, teary eyed. “Yes.” 

Her response was a mere whisper but Azriel seemed to gain energy from it as he thrusted harshly. And again. And again. 

Nyra’s legs were tightly wrapped around his hips with one of his arms between the small of her back and the mattress, providing a little elevation. His other arm rested near her head, the palm clenched into a fist. 

And as Azriel ruthlessly pounded into her as though only this wild sensation of pleasure mattered, Nyra couldn’t keep her eyes off his arm next to her head. 

The scars and the thick veins and the image of that hand grabbing her breasts, pinching her thighs, smacking her ass, pulling her hair, and those fingers wrapped around her throat was too much. 

Azriel removed himself from her completely, eliciting nothing but a noise of complaint and before she could say anything, he flipped her, raised her ass for him, smacked it hard. 

“What?” She had no clue how her fantasies were being fulfilled so fast. 

A hand found her hair and wrapped it around his fist and Nyra was suddenly pulled up, her back arching. Azriel leaned in, mouth near her. “Spread your legs for me.”

Nyra, with barely any breath and energy, obeyed. Because his voice, that tone she’d never heard before—that bedroom voice—it seemed to have a hold on her body. To make her compliant even when she had barely any energy. She was only thankful for the shadows to help her. 

Azriel entered her harshly from behind and another filthy moan escaped Nyra. 

The hand on her hair ascended and settled in her scalp, appreciative of the silky feeling of her hair. Her head was angled so as to bare her neck to him and let him see her face as much as it was possible. The other hand groped her breast and pulled her against his chest. 

Nyra felt him bite her ear. His tongue then trailed down to her chin and her body jolted at a surprising thrust. His open mouth pressed against the curve of her neck where it joined at the shoulder and Azriel began drilling into her from behind. 

The shadows were simply in charge of ensuring what happened was only out of Nyra’s consent. And if it were too much, they had orders to restrain him. And somewhere along the line, they’d taken it upon themselves to provide support for this position wherever balance would be an issue. 

Neither of them knew anything except for each other. His hand on her scalp went away without notice and reappeared on her belly. It descended and his finger found her clit.

She was just mewling and begging and Azriel complied with every single one of her nearly incomprehensible requests. 

The sound of wet slaps of skin against skin, the feeling of his hips meeting hers, and the way his cock pumped into her, reaching every part Nyra never knew she had, pushing and fucking her into oblivion. Good God, things would never be the same. 

It was a high and she was certain she couldn’t be any more. Her breasts were heavier and more sensitive than ever. Every part of her was. And she’d just reached the summit before she fell. 

Nyra cried out the moment she shattered and came. Her knees gave out but she was only able to remain with the shadows’ help. 

And why wasn’t Azriel stopping? Hadn’t he come yet? 

At this point, she was only for him. Only for his pleasure. 

She slowly raised a hand and touched his cheek. Azriel looked at her and they kissed once. And twice. And again. When are you going to come for me?

“Nyra.” That was the first time he moaned her name. And it brought her to the peak again. And she couldn’t hold it in as she came again, clenching hard on his cock. 

Azriel continued his onslaught for a couple of thrusts more before he came deep inside her. His grip on her breast and her pussy became tighter. 

As his cock softened inside her, he loosened his hold and brought both hands to wrap around her, holding her close. 

The shadows helped them sit on the bed as they caught their breath. The smell of sweat and sex permeated the air. And slowly, they laid down as the black wisps covered them with the blanket. 

Nyra finally opened her eyes and watched him. He was looking at her with ravenous intent, as if he’d take her again as soon as he regained his energy. 

She wanted to kiss him. Feel his warmth on her skin. The shadows helped her snuggle closer. And upon seeing her come close, Azriel moved his hands to accommodate her. 

She was in his arms, both of them still catching their breath. Her eyes shut immediately and she whimpered at the cool sensation of the shadows on her thighs. 

Don’t tease me. I really have no more energy. She’d only accessed that connection to address the shadows but that string was a thick, solid thing, nearly tangible. 

Her eyes opened wide and she met his gaze, and the entire world aligned into place. 

And Azriel knew that Nyra knew. 

TAGLIST:

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @impossibelle @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @judig92 @bunnyredgirl @sh4nn @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kattzillaa @ronnieglennn @wallacewillow0773638 @forgiveliv @justdreamstars @donttellthecats @cat-or-kitten @jojodojo02 @wandas-dream @evylynny @weasleyreidstyles @stqrgirlies-blog @why4anne @acourtofdreamsandshadows @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @macimads @noelli-smv @mqlfoyelf @thehighlordishere @slytherintaco @spideytingley @deeshag @footyandformula @nebarious @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @5onedirection5 @hanitastic @sevikas-whore @krowiathemythologynerd @myladysapphire @freyagallileaevans @azrielrot @rcarbo1 @i-am-infinite @latinxbipride @moni-cah @fantanbietsson @julsgrace @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @byunniebaekhyunnie @fhgsvbnh @halo-mystic @motheroffae @sweetorangeblossom

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 2

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, general filth, threesome, smut, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), and Rhaenyra ‘talks you through it’ Targaryen

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: ~1.6K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“Darling, you need to wake up,” Rhaenyra coaxes, stroking her fingers through your hair. “The tournament is today and the maids have already drawn you a bath.”

You groan, rolling away from your wife and back into Daemon’s warm side. “Five more minutes,” you grumble. 

Rhaenyra snorts out a laugh, “we both know what that will turn into.”

“It’s not fair,” you whine. “Why does Daemon get to sleep in? Isn’t he competing in this damn thing?” You pull the blankets up over your head in an attempt to shut out the light.

Rhaenyra yanks the blankets down, and the sudden chill from the morning air is enough to wake both you and Daemon. “Now you’re both up.”

You grumble, rolling out of bed and attempting to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Can you pick a dress for me, Nyra?” 

Rhaenyra hums her agreement and rifles through your wardrobe to find something “tourney-appropriate.” You gaze at your wife, awestruck. It’s been six months since you woke up in Westeros. Y/N from a year ago couldn’t even imagine herself married, let alone to someone like Rhaenyra and Daemon. But now? You couldn’t really fathom life without them. Things were just….easy with them. Of course you argued, but the three of you never went to bed angry. You weren’t one to believe in soulmates, but the way they fit so effortlessly into you could convince you otherwise.

You softly pad across the room, sliding your arms around Rhaenyra’s waist and resting your chin on her shoulder. Pecking her cheek, you watch as she sifts through the wardrobe. “Does it really matter what I wear?”

“This is your first public outing since you lost your memories, of course it matters,” Rhaenyra chides. “I want this day to be perfect for you.”

You laugh light, nuzzling into Nyra and trailing kisses up her neck. “If you want this day to be perfect, we could just forget the tourney and make our own entertainment here.” 

“You’re insatiable.” Rhaenyra says, turning around to kiss you deeply. You moan into her mouth as she grips your hips and pulls you closer into her. She nips at your lower lip, drawing a gasp from you. Your hands fly up to grip her hair, the white locks soft and neat despite last night’s activities.

Rhaenyra breaks the kiss, hands trail up your sides as she pulls your shift up and over your head. You shiver at the cool air, but Nyra chases that away as she kisses and nips her way down your neck. A curse is stuck in your throat as Rhaenyra plucks at your nipple with deft fingers. Your hands cradle her head as you try to pull her back up into a kiss, but Nyra bats ur hands away and laves her tongue over your nipple. “Nyra, please,” you whine.

She glances to the bed behind, a smirk playing on her lips. “It appears we have an audience,” she purrs. You look over your shoulder to see Daemon, lounging on the bed in nothing more than his wedding rings. His back is against the headboard as he lazily strokes his cock. “What do you say darling?” Rhaenyra asks as she turns you to face Daemon fully. “Should we give him a show?”

You nod desperately, wanting nothing more than for Rhaenyra to touch you again.

“Use your words.” Daemon’s voice is gravely from sleep. 

“Please.”

“Please?” Rhaenyra teases. “I can’t give you anything unless you tell me exactly what it is you want.” Her left arm slides around your waist, holding you in place.

“Please touch me.”  

“I am touching you.” She nibbles at your ear as she tightens her grip on your waist.

“You know what I me-”

“Oh I don’t think I do. Where does my needy little dragon want to be touched?” Rhaenyra asks. “Here?” Her right hand ghosts across your cheek. “Or maybe….here?” Her hand falls to tweak at your nipple. 

“Ah-”

“No, I think you want me here,” Nyra purrs as she slips a hand between your thighs. You widen your stance, rocking your hips forward into her palm. She rubs tight circles on your clit as she reaches her other hand up to pluck at your nipples.

“You give in to her too easily,” Daemon chastises. “If you keep spoiling her like this, she’ll never want to leave our chambers.”

“My prince, don’t you have a tournament to prepare for?” you say as you turn your head to catch Nyra’s lips.

“Hmm, mouthing off are we?” Daemon hums in response. “I can think of a far better use for those pretty lips.”

“If you win today, I just might consider putting these ‘pretty lips’ to a use,” you tease.

Daemon’s gaze darkens and he motions you forward as he shifts to sit on the edge of the bed, spreading his thighs. You lick your lips in anticipation, stalking forward and dropping to your knees before him. Nuzzling into his knee, you kiss up his thigh and stop as you reach his cock. “Open,” he orders, slapping his cock lightly against your tongue. 

You shift your thighs, trying to get some friction. “There’s my obedient little slut,” Daemon purrs. “All that fire just disappears the second she’s on her knees.”

His fingers wind into your hair, guiding his cock into your mouth. You eagerly lap at the head of his cock, lightly sucking. “That’s it,” he moans. “Keep going, my love. Take me a little deeper.”

You moan as you bob your head to take him deeper, sliding a hand between your legs to toy with your clit. 

“None of that.” Rhaenyra says, pulling your hand away from your core before her hands replace Daemon’s to grip your hair. She sets a harder pace than Daemon, fucking your mouth down onto his cock. 

Spit drips down your chin as your moans vibrate along his shaft. “Fuck,” Daemon swears. “You feel so good, my love–taking me so well.”

“Like she’s made for us,” Rhaenyra finishes. 

Your hands grip at Daemon’s thighs as you fall into Nyra’s rhythm. You gag lightly as she forces you down a little too far. She pulls you back instantly, kissing your forehead in an apology before guiding you back down. 

“Just like that,” she murmurs. “Can you take a little more?” 

You attempt to nod as she slowly presses you down, and you feel the head of his cock bump the back of your throat.

“Gods,” Daemon moans. 

“Fuck, look at you.” Rhaenyra murmurs. “Halfway down his cock and gagging for more. You can keep going for me, can’t you?”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you’re determined. You swallow around his cock as you let Rhaenyra guide you down.

“Eyes up, I want to watch as you take me down your throat.”

Your eyes flutter as you meet his gaze. You struggle to get the last few inches, but even your breathing before sliding home. 

“Good girl,” Rhaenyra purrs. “Hold it.” Her hand holds you firmly down at the base of Daemon’s cock. “Right there.”

“Fuck, I’m so close.” Daemon breaths out. He moans, his hips bucking lightly as he struggles to restrain himself from fucking your face.

“Can you take it for us?” Nyra leans down to nip at your earlobe. “I want you to make Daemon come. You can do that, just a little more.”

Daemon swears as his restraint breaks. He thrusts up into your mouth, and you grip his thighs tighter in response. He climaxes with a low groan. Rhaenyra grips your hair harder, pulling your head back so you’re staring up at her.

“Don’t swallow,” she orders. “Open wide, let me see the mess he made.” You whine, eyes rolling back at her words. Your mouth drops open, and Rhaenyra groans at the sight. She leans down, kissing you fiercely, swiping her tongue across yours to taste Daemon’s cum.

You moan into the kiss, pulling at her dress in an attempt to get it off. 

“Later love,” she says, pulling away from you. “Your bath is getting cold.”

“But I didn’t-”

“We know,” Daemon smiles wickedly. “But I have a tourney to prepare for.” He wanders over to the wardrobe, pullings a pair of pants on before stopping to plant a kiss on your lips.

“Not fair,” you whine. “I didn’t get to come.” Your hands reach for his waistband.

“No,” Daemon scolds, clasping your hands together in his larger one and wrenching your body into his. “You’re not in charge here. You’re going to listen and obey like a good little girl.” You whine in response, nodding furiously in agreement. Suddenly, Rhaenyra’s warm body brushes up against your back. She nibbles lightly at your ear before kissing and licking her way down your neck.

“No need to be cruel,” Rhaenyra purrs. “Our little dragon is just begging for attention the only way she knows how.”

You whimper, canting your hips into Daemon’s. He slides a thigh between yours, pressing it up against your cunt. Your eyes roll back and you moan at the friction. “Please,” you breathe out, your teary eyes meeting his. 

“Later,” Daemon promises. “After I win the tournament, I promise to lock you in these rooms and fuck that needy cunt until you’re begging me to stop.”

NOTE: Should I…..turn this into an actual series with an actual plot….nahhhh. Maybe later. For now I’m just enjoying writing their dynamic. Can’t wait to drop part 3 for ya’ll.- Lacie <3

Taglist: @syraxnyra

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[polkadotzzzz]

I had a dream about Sevika with reader and her two twin girls. Could you make it happen?

(Expand as much as you want, add what you want, and if this is an inconvenience you can ignore it, nothing happens, we love you anyway)

Only if you could add the line of one of the little girls going towards Sevika, opening her hands so that she can pick her up and say "mom, I'm hungry."

(Yes, God exists, and that is you)

a/n: THIS WAS MY FKRST EVER ASK!!!!! im ashamed to say it took me this long to write it but in my defense, it took forever i wanted it to be perfect

mdni, no warnings!

the city of piltover had always been a place of grandeur, its towering pristine penthouses and gleaming facades shining against the horizon, a testament to its wealth and influence. but for sevika, the industrial shadows of zaun felt like home. it was a place where she had been forged—both hardened and softened by the brutal rhythm of life in the undercity.

though she had long left behind her life as a soldier, the echoes of her past still followed her. yet, in the quiet moments, when the weight of the world seemed just a bit lighter, sevika found peace in the presence of those she loved most—her wife, and their two twin daughters, nyra and lila.

the house they shared in the lower levels of the city was modest but filled with warmth. it was a small refuge from the chaos that often lurked in the streets of zaun. the walls were adorned with handmade decorations and trinkets, each telling a story of the lives they had built here. every corner of the house was lived in, and the scent of cooked meals and freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the hum of machinery outside. sevika had never been one for sentimentality, but there was something about these small, tender moments that made her feel as though she could breathe again.

you were at the stove, hair tied back in a loose ponytail, humming softly as you prepared the evening meal. the girls were nearby, playing with a set of wooden blocks, giggling as they built towers and knocked them down with delighted shrieks.

sevika leaned against the doorway, watching the scene with a rare smile. her large, calloused hands, still scarred from years of combat and hard work, rested at her sides. the sight of her family—the quiet peace they shared—was something she had never thought possible. she had lived a life of violence and struggle, and yet here, in this small home, she had found something worth protecting more than anything else.

you noticed your wife’s gaze and smiled back. “you’re staring again, sev.”

sevika’s smile widened, though she tried to play it cool. “just making sure you haven’t burned dinner. wouldn’t want to eat your cooking again."

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “you’ve eaten worse, and you still kept me around. must be something about me that’s more than just my cooking.”

“you’re right about that,” sevika replied, stepping into the kitchen and brushing a kiss across your cheek. her voice softened. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

you placed the spoon down on the counter and turned to face sevika, expression warm. “you’d survive, just like always. but i’m glad you don’t have to.”

before they could say more, a small voice interrupted them.

“mama, i’m hungry!”

it was nyra, her little hands outstretched toward sevika. the toddler’s big, curious eyes were wide with innocence and hunger, her round face flushed from play. she waddled toward sevika, her short legs moving quickly, as if her very being demanded immediate attention. nyra's twin, lila, followed closely behind, though she was more reserved, her arms crossed as she leaned against the nearby table, watching her sister’s antics with quiet amusement.

sevika chuckled softly, crouching down to her daughter’s level. “you’re always hungry, little one.”

nyra reached up with grabby hands, eager for her mother’s embrace. sevika couldn’t help but smile as she lifted her up, cradling her close. the warmth of her daughter’s small body in her arms always grounded her, reminding her of the simple joys of life.

“we’re almost done, sweetie,” you called from the stove. “can you wait a little longer?”

nyra pouted slightly, but then a mischievous grin spread across her face. “but i’m hungry now!”

sevika kissed the top of nyra’s head, feeling a swell of affection. “i think i’ve got something for you,” she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a sweet she had gotten from a vendor earlier.

nyra’s eyes lit up as she took the candy, her hands grasping it eagerly. “yay, mama!” she squealed, sinking her teeth into the treat as she clung to sevika.

lila took a few steps forward. “i want something too,” she said, her voice quiet but insistent.

sevika smiled softly at her other daughter, brushing a lock of hair out of lila’s face. “don’t worry, sweetie. you’re next.”

you, still stirring the pot on the stove, glanced over your shoulder with a knowing look. “you spoil them too much.”

sevika raised an eyebrow, grinning. “you spoil them too. it’s just in our nature.”

you chuckled. “true. but they do deserve it.”

for a few moments, the world outside their home seemed to fade away. there were no gang fights or political unrest in the streets of zaun, no looming threats to their peace. it was just the four of them, safe and content, in their little corner of the world.

though the peace in their home was often enough to make sevika forget the world outside, it never fully went away. the shadow of zaun’s darker realities always loomed, just beyond the walls of their little haven. there were days when sevika couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to break—that the fragile peace they had built could be shattered at any moment.

one such evening, as the girls played in the other room, sevika found herself staring out the window, her thoughts drifting to the streets below. her mind wandered back to her past—back to the fights, the betrayals, and the violence she had left behind when she chose a different life.

but even as she thought about it, she knew she could never truly escape it. no one who came from the depths of zaun could. the weight of that knowledge sat heavy on her shoulders, even here, with her family at her side. she had made a choice to stay, to build something with you, but the past had a way of resurfacing when least expected.

you noticed her wife’s distant expression and stepped over to her, wrapping your arms around sevika’s waist from behind. “you’re thinking too much again.”

sevika’s shoulders relaxed as she leaned back into your embrace. “i can’t help it. sometimes, i wonder if i’ve made a mistake staying here.”

you kissed the back of sevika’s neck softly. “you’ve built something beautiful, sev. we’ve built something. and we’ll protect it. together.”

sevika nodded, drawing comfort from your words. “i just want the girls to have a life without all the bloodshed. a life where they can dream without looking over their shoulders.”

“they will,” you reassured her, your voice firm but tender. “you’ve already given them that.”

sevika let out a long sigh, turning to face her wife. she placed a hand on your cheek, her thumb brushing across the familiar, soft skin. “sometimes i’m afraid the world will take them from us.”

you smiled, eyes filled with love and adoration. “then we fight. for them. for us.”

sevika could only nod, the weight of the world lightened just a bit by the warmth of your presence.

[anyca786]

"YOU'VE BOTH MATURED YOURSELVES THESE PAST FEW YEARS,"

Daemon targaryen x sister/aunt!Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen.

WARNINGS: Canon typical incest/targcest (brother and sister, uncle and niece, aunt and niece) fluff, kissing. (Idk how to write warnings)

Series

Daenys had some spiralling conflicts with her mind and her heart. She felt a sense of connection with Rhaenyra that she had never experienced before, and it was scarying her. So she decided it was time to pay a visit to her favourite cousin.

7 moons later

Laena, her sweet niece had recently claimed Vhagar, the largest dragon alive.

They were currently flying throughout Driftmark and, 'Aunt, mother, look!" Laena, who sat on top of Vhagar in the saddle, pointed to the ship in the distance.

Daenys wore beautiful blue riding clothes gifted by her dearest cousin. Her luscious silver hair flowed freely with the wind.

Rhaenys eyes squinted at the number of ships, and her eyes widened. The distant sound of Caraxes whistle could be heard, which made Nyx's head turn at the sound, and she let out a pleasant roar.

'Velaryon flags..- " Daenys' shock was replaced with a happy expression while coaxing Nyx to calm down, "Shh, I know you missed Caraxes," she pats her dragon.

That meant Daemon was back from the Stepstones and have won against the crabfeeders.

"Father and Laenor are back!" Laena said delightedly and turned to her Aunt Daenys and flashed her a teasing grin, "You must be pleased that your betrothed is back."

"He is not my betrothed, silly girl. Now, if you excuse me -" Daenys scowled, "Sovegon."

Rhaenys sighed, watching her little cousin fly off in the direction of Kingslanding and then gave her daughter a look.

Rhaenys knew that eventually, the two would get married soon. They both shared the blood of dragon. The other Lords that offered their hand weren't worthy of the precious Princess Daenys.

🥀

To say Daenys was genuinely surprised that a party was being thrown for Daemon in the royal gardens was an understatement. She had heard the rumours of him being the King of the Stepstones, which brought a small satisfied smile on her face.

Everyone present seemed to be enjoying the warm weather. Daenys ignored the preying eyes of lords and knights on her and solely focused on her family wearing a genuine smile.

A servant passed by with a tray of wine, which she gladly took and thanked the servant.

Alicent stood by the King like a dutiful wife she was wearing a tight smile. Though she remained still to the best of her ability while rubbing her arms clearly discomforted by the Rouge's presence. It was clear that Daemon loathed the Queen just like Daenys herself.

"Princess Daenys, Your Grace" Daenys's name was announced, and immediately, the crowd stepped aside for the Princess.

Some were in awe while others held feelings of lust for the silver-haired princess, which made Daemon for some reason feel a rush of irritation.

Rhaenyra didn't waste any time walking over to her beautiful aunt. " Daenys."

"Rhaenyra.' she happily accepted her embrace, and Rhaenyra blushed when she pressed a kiss on her cheek.

"Come enjoy some lemon cakes with me. I saved you some chocolate." Rhaenyra said shyly.

That seemed to catch Daenys' attention and immediately accepted Rhaenyra's hand as she guided her to the dessert table, unaware of the Hightower Queen watching them with an enviouse glare.

"I can't believe he's back." Daenys mused, tasting her wine while Rhaenyra tasted the candied lemon slice in her mouth. Rhaenyra just looked at her and licked her fingers before swiping away the leftover wine on the corner of her lips.

"Nyra!" She whined.

"It's fun teasing you, my dearest Aunt." Rhaenyra had just gotten back from her six moons of tour and rejected the majority of her suitors.

The way she felt about Daenys wasn't simple. When her mother had died, Daenys had been there for her more than anyone. Rhaenyra adorned this woman.

She spent every morning, noon, and night thinking of Daenys Targaryen, their passionate kisses, her gentle touch, her aunt's genuine concern about her. She was a goddess in Rhaenyra's eyes, whether it was her pretty smiles, her pouty lips, or her fiercely protective nature.

Daenys smiled at her, "I take it the tour did not go well."

"They were old enough to be Vhagar's age." That made Daenys' nose scrunched displeasingly, making Rhaenyra giggle.

"Perhaps I have not found the one with the blood as hot as a dragon like mine, yet" Rhaenyra said, looking at Daenys's eyes.

"Let us go greet your father and Uncle," Daenys said, clearing her throat, trying not to address what Rhaenyra meant.

"Wellif it isn't my Prince Charming. Congratulations on your victory, brother," Daenys said, earning a laugh from Viserys.

"You shouldn't have thrown the party. Now his ego is bigger than Nyx, " Daenys said to Viserys, pouting.

'Thank you, Princess," Daemon spoke with a small smirk that held a double meaning behind his words. Daenys blushed at his words. Daemon looked irresistibly charming in his new haircut.

'And I have heard that Rhaenys is considering marrying you to Corlys' youngest cousin brother, Victor Velaryon. He will make a fine Prince consort. He's a good man." Viserys said remembering him years ago.

This brought a fake laugh from Rhaenyra and a hum from Daemon as he narrowed his eyes in amusement.

"Pin-cess!" Daenys turned her head to see small toddler wearing a gummy smile bouncing towards her with her arms out. Her septa hurried behind anxiously, "Apologies, Princess," the septa bowed her head.

" Hello, little princess," Daenys cheered, smiling brightly at the little girl with brown hair. Apparently, she was a daughter of some High Lord. The little girl was captivated by Daenys's beauty.

Daemon watched in awe as Daenys picked the girl in her arms. He had seen her interact with Rhaenys' children, yet he found himself imagining the baby in her arms, was his with long silver hair and big beautiful purple eyes.

His eyes hungrily wandered at her form. She looked absolutely beautiful over the years they've been apart.

Her hair was flowing freely, and it was clear from flying on Nyx. Her cheeks got fuller as well as her breast, which made Daemon hard just by the thought of it.

However, Daemon wasn't the only one staring her, Sir Criston Cole blissfully observed Daenys.

Daenys offered Sir Criston a smile.

"Perhaps the Prince Daemon and Princess Daenys would care for a tour of the gallery," Alicent offered, trying to mingle.

Rhaenyra's lips twitched at the thought of Daemon exploring the gallery.

"They haven't seen the new tapestries gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor." Alicent pressed.

"Would you like to see the tapestries?" Viserys asked Daemon before laughing out loud.

Daenys saw the hurt look on Alicent's face and turned her head to look at her brother, ready to snap,

"He has no interest in such things," Viserys said humorously.

"I'd like to see them. Would anyone like to accompany me?" Rhaenyra asked, trying to escape this dreadful talk.

"I would," Daenys replied merrily

"Oh, then you should not deprive yourself," Viserys told her.

But before Daenys could move, Daemon grabbed her wrist, "Later," he announced and dragged her with him. Daemon lightly chuckled, finding this situation amusing, making Daenys roll her eyes.

"Daemon!" she exclaimed, turning to face him with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

"Come," he said, his voice low and urgent. Without waiting for a response, he pulled her away towards a secluded corner of the garden.

As they reached the privacy of the overgrown bushes, Daemon turned to face Daenys. His gaze was intense, his expression a mix of longing and desire. Without any warning, he cupped her face in his large hands and leaned in for a passionate kiss. Daenys, initially taken aback, couldn't resist the pull of his desire. She returned his kiss with equal fervour, her heart pounding in her chest.

"And I missed you too," she replied, leaning in for a brief, chaste kiss with a smile.

Daemon's kiss deepened, his hands cupping her face. He lifted her effortlessly, allowing her legs to wrap around his torso. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, their passion igniting like a wildfire.

"Don't pull that stunt ever again," Daenys complained, her voice muffled by Daemon's kisses, "I was in the middle of a conversation".

Daemon chuckled, his breath warm against her ear. "I won't," he promised, pulling away to press a tender kiss to her temple. Setting Daenys down, Daemon smoothed her hair and cupped her face in his hands.

"How's your wife? Mysaria? Was it" She asked, her tone playful.

Daemon rolled his eyes. "Just accept it, you're jealous," he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

Daenys scowled, but he found her reaction amusing. He moved closer, their faces mere inches apart. Daenys refused to waver, her gaze unwavering despite the proximity of their lips.

Daemon grasped her neck with his large hand and grinned.

"There you two are," Rhaenyra's voice interrupted them, her tone light and teasing.

Daemon resisted the urge to scrowl at his niece when Daenys pulled away quickly.

Rhaenyra wore a content smile, yet her eyes trained on Daemon almost smugly, "You seem content on Dragonstone. Why did you come back? There is surely more to your return than simply taunting my father." She asked in High Valyrian.

"So what do you want?" She said.

"Only the comforts of home and to see my favourite niece and baby sister," Daenys felt like there was a whole other meaning behind it but chose not to say anything.

The three moved to the shade. Daemon chose to sit while Daenys and Rhaenyra stood.

"I had not thought you would particularly be comfortable with this home," Rhaenyra spoke.

Daemon poured glasses of wine for the two girls and then offered Daenys to seat on his lap.

Daenys gladly took a seat on his lap while Rhaenyra shifted in her spot, visibly not pleased.

"The adventurous must've changed you," and the two Targaryens stared at her with a soft gaze.

"You've both matured yourself these past few years,"

Daemon stared at Daenys in admiration. She had certainly become a fine woman, and it was certain that he wasn't the only one who thought that. His niece seemed quite taken with her as well.

"My father seems content to sell me off to whichever lord has the biggest castle,' Rhaenyra spoke in annoyance. Daenys grabbed her hand in support and said,

"Your father is getting on my nerves, lately"

"There are worse things to be sold for," Daemon replied, speaking of experience. He had been young when he was betrothed to Rhea Royce.

"Marriage is only a political arrangement. Once you are wed, you can do as you like," Daemon directed his words at the Princess.

"For men, marriage might be a political arrangement. For women, it is a death sentence." Rhaenyra said in High Valyrian.

"Would that it was. I would've been rid of my Bronze Bitch ages ago." He replied in High Valyrian.

Rhaenyra sipped on her wine while refilling Daenys' goblet.

"Your wife has been fortunate. You haven't put a child in her." Rhaenyra said.

"I doubt a child could grow in such a hostile environment." Daemon replied, his laughter fading away as Rhaenyra scoffed.

"My mother was made to produce heirs .. and it got her killed," Rhaenyra spoke heavily in emotion. Daenys remembered the time when Aemma gave birth to Rhaenyra and how much she suffered then. The horrifying birthing scene made young Daenys run away from home in order to avoid marriage and the same fate.

"I won't subject myself or Rhaenyra to the same fate," Daenys stated strongly.

"What happened to your mother was a tragedy. But this is a tragic world." Daemon's words were laced with comfort towards Rhaenyra.

"I have no desire to live in fear. Only solitude." Rhaenyra replied strongly. Daemon smiled at the two women with such newfound fondness.

🥀

As Daenys was getting ready for bed, she noticed a bag sitting on the chair. She moved it and lifted the bag onto the table and poured out its contents onto the table to see commoners' clothing.

"Daenys?" A whisper spoked, a voice she recognised.

"Rhaenyra?" Daenys replied. She turned around to see her niece come out of the wall. A secret door she had no idea existed, "Rhaenyra, how did you even discover the secret passages?" she asked in awe.

She momentarily forgot about the bag and went up to Rhaenyra in excitement, "Can you imagine what we can do with this? We can sneak into kitchens or -

Rhaenyra had placed a hand over Daenys' mouth to keep her quiet, "Now aunt-you do not want us to get caught do you? Now, have you received a bag from Daemon?"

'Yes... Where are we going?" Daenys's eyes widened in curiosity, but for some reason felt a bit giddy as to what they were going to do tonight, Daenys lived for adventure.

"We are going out tonight and exploring the streets with Uncle Daemon as our guide."

Daenys wasted no time getting changed into the dress and cloak. She had pinned her hair up and had it tucked behind a long scarf. There was no way she'll have herself recognized.

"You look very handsome." Daenys complimented Rhaenyra, who was dressed as a little boy.

"Why, thank you, Princess," Rhaenyra replied cheekily.

Daenys reached for Rhaenyra's hand, "Well, what are we waiting for?" The Realm's Delight chuckled at her aunt's impatience. Together, they go through the secret door and into the hidden corridor.

When they reached outside, Daemon was already standing there dressed in a cloak with a hood over his head. "Took you both long enough." He smirked.

A/N: Double update <3

[lyraoftheevergreens]

The Realms Enchantress

Chapter 3

NSFW MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader!Niece, Daemon Targaryen x Niece!Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Female!OC,

Summary: For years Daemon never had a care in the world just, sex, wine and a good battle. With the exception of his favorite niece. His little dragon he called her. He swore to be there for her and he got himself exiled when she needed him the most. Now, he returns from war at the step stones and is determined to get her back. No matter the cost.

Warnings: minor errors in spelling and grammar, Targaryen Inscest, mentions of sex, oral female and male receiving, talk of nudity, mentions of death and blood, mother murdered, dead babies, depression, periods, vulgar language. If your watching hotd than you should already know that stuff written about it will not be clean in the slightest.

Author Note: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, life happened and as we all know it tends to suck at times

Word Count: 4.4k

Previous Chapter

“Come join me! ‘Tis quite warm!”

“No, how can I trust you speak the truth? I am quite content here enjoying the view.”

“Daemon! Please!” You yelled to him. In time he eventually caved and undressed to join you. By all means who was he to deny you what you wanted.

“You lie! It’s fucking cold!” He yelled walking to you.

“I don’t lie, I’ve just been in long enough that it’s quite nice.”

He wrapped his arms around you pulling you into him, stood in the ocean.

“I could live here, till the end of my days.” You whispered, head on his chest.

“On Dragonstone?”

“In your arms.” Just the two of you.

Eventually you both decide to return to your chambers for rest. Walking up with daemon barefoot in his breeches and you barefoot in his tunic. The staff looked at the two of you wide eyed as you both walked through the halls laughing and talking.

“Oh do you remember that time Rhaenyra got drunk?”

“I’m sorry, Rhaenyra?” He looked at you in disbelief given she is only 4 and 10 years of age.

“Oh no! You were away! I shall tell you the story than. She was only 10 years of age and I believe it was my father’s name day and he was drinking his wine at a faster pace than usual as well as consuming my mothers because she was with child as always. Nyra saw it fit to help him finish his own glass when he turned to drink mothers. Nobody had noticed what she was doing.”

“Well clearly you noticed if you are relaying the events.”

“No, actually. It was her who stumbled in laughing pissing herself into my bedchambers. When she woke the next morning I questioned her as to what she had gotten her self into the night prior and she told me. Although the fact that she was dancing and telling jest to about any lord or servant that would hear her should have given her away.”

Daemon listened to you as the two of you walked to your bedchamber. A fondness in his eyes. The servants were in shock and some shied away from watching the Rogue Prince appear happy. He smiled with you. None of them had seen him smile.

A warm bath was already prepared when the two of you entered the room. The maids knew not to linger. You laid against his chest as you both laid in the hot water enjoying each other’s presence. It was Daemon who spoke first ruining the silent bliss.

“We must start our journey back to Kings Landing on the morrow.”

“You swore 4 days to me.” You answered him back.

“We’ve stayed 3, our journey together will be the fourth. We won’t arrive till the hour of the wolf.”

“May we return here to Dragonstone as we wish?”

“If your father does not have my head for bringing you here then yes.”

“Daemon.” You whispered.

“Yes?” He answered. You turned between his legs to face him, the water spilling from the sides of the basin.

“I want you to…” you were unable to finish your own sentence from your own nervousness. Your face red unable to express your wishes to him.”

“What is it you want sweet girl. Tell me.”

“I want you to, to. Touch me.” You whispered the last part.

“Touch you how?” He asked feigning naivety.

“Fuck me.” You whispered. He threw his head back and groaned.

“Oh my sweet girl, how I wish I could. We must time such things. If I do so now your father will have my head and he will marry you off to the first lord who will take you.” He tried to reason with you. It was hard to given that he barely got 3 words in before your hand gripped his cock. Once in your soft hand he was rock solid. It took everything with in him not to have you as he truly wished every night here on Dragonstone.

“Wed me. In the tradition of our house, take me as your second wife.” You told him now working your hand up and down his length the water begins to rock due to your hand movements on his length threatening to spill from the tub.

“You are so much more than a second wife zaldrītsos.” He moaned out eyes clenched closed as you continued your movements. He laid there enjoying the feel of your hand working his length. His own hand never being able to bring the same relief yours was bringing him. He knows once he has your cunt wrapped around him, you will have ruined every whore for him, He will solely crave you.

Once the bath was ruined from his release the two of you got out and prepared for bed. Once in bed the two of you drifted off to sleep in each others arms. The next morning Daemon kept his word and the two of you left on Dyrax at sunrise and started your journey to Kingslanding. Once arrived at the hour of the wolf you and Daemon used the secret passageways to your chambers. The two of you held each other one last time. Tasted each other one last time.

When you woke the next morning it was Rhaenyra who had awoken you by jumping into your bed.

“You’ve returned! Oh I thought you would never return from Dragonstone! How was it with Daemon?”

“It was lovely. A much needed rest from court. I must ask. Is father aware?”

“He is unaware to my knowledge.”

“Perfect.”

“Tell me y/n!” She shouted at you, now realizing you would have no choice but to tell her everything. Well, excluding the intimate details. Your day continued on as usual as if you hadn’t been away for 5 days. Daemon returned to his gold cloaks, day time training and nightly patrols.

Otto fucking Hightower. You had returned to court your second day back from Dragonstone. When Otto the cunt of a hand asked you how your time at Dragonstone was, infront of your father.

“You were at Dragonstone? When?” Questioned your father.

“Just 2 days past. I needed to be alone to grieve mother.”

“Did you not arrive at the hour of the wolf with Prince Daemon?”

“Yes I did. It was his idea and it helped. I enjoyed the waters of Dragonstone and I was able to cry and sleep as I pleased. No court, no politics, no murmurs of my mother and brother’s death around the castle. Silence and rest.”

“That sounds lovely my girl. I’m glad you are rested.” Your father responded. One thing Otto didn’t know, is your father would be sure not to upset you after watching him choose a son over his wife. Now he has no heir, no wife and could possibly loose his two daughters.

“Thank you father.” She said smiling to him.

“We must discuss Daemon and the way he is abusing his city watch status. He is acting as judge and executioner, 2 horse pulled carriages were used to rid of the carnage. Many would say it a massacre and abuse of power. His first night back and the people are met with his blade.”

“Has crime not gone down?” You spoke up.

“Excuse me princess?” Answered Otto abruptly.

“He instills fear in criminals, should the people of kings landing remain honest, not steal and not rape than they should have nothing to fear by the gold cloaks nightly patrols.”

“The city watch is not to instill fear.” Otto retorts.

“Maester Fredrick, get me the crime reports please. From the last 3 years.”

“Yes princess.” Said the maester and quickly left.

“Ser Harwin strong was lead commander while your uncle was away. Crime remained down and there were no live slaughters.” Oh how Otto got under her skin.

“While that may remain true how long till the city’s criminals retaliate. If they don’t fear death or loss of limb who is to say that crime won’t raise once again. Daemon has returned, I propose we allow a fortnight to compare results and we will see if the matter requires further discussion with Daemon present. All who agree?” And with that everyone agreed, your father spoke.

“Marvelous idea my dear. We shall allow a fortnight and we will proceed from there. Your king is tired, if there are no further matters that require my attention I shall retire for the evening.” With that he stood, everyone else stood and he left. Once you exited the room you had crossed paths with Maester Fredrick and the records.

“Have them sent to my chambers please.” You asked.

“Of course princess.” He left in search for your handmaid, what you assume. Once you retired to your room’s Rhaenyra came running in.

“I can’t believe the way you put Otto in his place!” Rhaenyra threw herself onto your bed laughing.

“Do you notice the way it absolutely angers him that father allows me a seat on his council.“ you said laying down next to her.

“Yes! I really thought father was going to storm out the council room in search for Daemon after what Otto said.”

“As did I. Truthfully I’m relieved he didn’t further question it. Or that Otto didn’t press into it. You think Otto has spies on Dragonstone?”

“No. I don’t believe so. You?”

“No.” You laid there thinking about if Otto did. Surely he knew something to bring up your leave with Daemon.

Two days later another council meeting was called. You all took your seats and Otto spoke first. “Before we begin your grace, I have a report I feel compelled to share. Last night Prince Daemon bought out one of the pleasure houses on the street of silk to entertain officers of the city watch and other friends of his. He toasted Prince Baelon styling him the heir for a day. After he goes on to say how it will be him and his seed who sit the iron throne. “If his heir won’t sit the throne at least mine shall after I fill his daughter with my seed.” I corroborated this report with three separate witnesses. The evening was by all accounts a celebration.”

You sat in shock at Otto’s words. You watched as your father ordered his guards to have Daemon sent to the throne room. You left to your chambers. Rhaenyra followed close behind. Once alone she spoke first.

“I’m not sure what’s more upsetting, our uncles words or your betrayal.” Rhaenyra speaks coldly.

“My betrayal? Pray-tell sister, how do I betray you?”

“You let him take you to Dragonstone like some whore. Was it worth it? Being sullied by him just to have him run into the arms of another whore.”

“You dare call me a whore? You know nothing baby sister, don’t you dare act as if you do. I remain as virtuous as the day I was born. He may have ran into the arms of his whore but he has never had me! I swear it on the memory of our mother, I have not laid with Daemon in the matter of which you accuse me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Rhaenyra began to cry. You embraced her in a hug.

“It is alright. I forgive you. I know, what we heard was upsetting. Father will talk to him and then I. I will get us answers. I swear this to you.”

“Okay.” She whispered holding onto you. You waited a while before leaving to Daemons chambers once Rhaenyra fell asleep in your bed.

You found him being watched by a knight of your father’s kings guard as he packed his belongings.

“Leave us.” You command as you enter.

“I can’t do that princess.” He says.

“You can and you will, your princess commands it. Shall he escape I will ensure you will not face the wrath of the king. Now leave us.” You promise him. With this he takes your word and waits outside the door while you talk to Daemon.

“You heard.”

“Heir for the day?”

“Y/n.”

“No! I can’t believe you Daemon,”fill his daughter with my seed.” What kind of nonsense is that?” You shouted at him, all he could do is reach out to you. You quickly stepped back.

“Do not touch me after you lay with your whores. I truly hope it was worth it because you will never have me not after this. You swore you would be here for me! You don’t even last a fortnight before you get your self exiled! You made a mockery of my dead mother and brother. Of me!”

“Who is to say I want you! I’ve never made such a proclamation!” He shouts back at you. You stare at him in shock, was it all in your head? Did he just see as another one of his whores when you bare with him on Dragonstone, the nights spent in his arms. The kisses and care in his touch. You step back from him.

“Y/n” he reaches for your arm once more. You step back again.

“No. I apologize uncle. I believed something that was not there.”

“Y/n.” He called your name once more.

“I’m sorry I ever believed you to be the man I need.” With that you left him there and made your way back to your chambers. The guard escorted Daemon to the dragon pit. You heard of your father exiling your uncle to the vale with his wife. You stayed in bed. For days on end.

5 months after Daemons exile your father called you and Rhaenyra to the cellars of the red keep.

“What is it farther.”

“My darling girls. It has been sometime.”

“You have not talked to us in 6 months” Rhaenyra states.

“And I apologize. When you see dragons, what do you see.”

“Father what is this?” You question him.

“Just tell me what you see.” He repeats himself.

“I suppose I see us, they say Targaryen’s are closer to gods than men and they say that because our dragons. Without them we are just like everyone else.” Rhaenyra says.

“I’m sorry Y/n, Rhaenyra. I have waisted the years since you were born on wishing for a son. You are the very best of your mother and I believe it and I know she did that you could be a great queen, ruling queen.”

“Father. Daemon is your heir. Y/n your first born.”

“I understand but I believe that it is you that can unite the realm when the time comes. Only a strong ruling king or queen can do that. While you are strong and passionate Y/n is level headed. Y/n you will need to protect your sister, guide her as heir to the throne. It is you who I believe can do that best. You are caring and quick thinking, you have always protected and cared for Rhaenyra, more so now while you both mourn the loss of your mother you have remained strong and reliable through it all.”

“With Rhaenyra on the thrown and you as her council, her hand. The realm will remain strong long after my death.”

With in 3 days time the realm was pledging their loyalty to the crown, to king Viserys and heir to the throne Princess Rhaenyra. And while you would never admit it to your sister, you were hurt that your father named her heir and not you. You knew in your heart it was punishment for your time on Dragonstone with Daemon. Nonetheless you bent the knee pledging your loyalty to your sister.

~time jump~

1 month time has gone passed. Your mother dead 7 months. Your uncle gone for 6 months, squatting on Dragonstone. Apart of you wanted to fly to him be done with the politics, for him to take you as his wife in exile. But you were still hurt by the last words he spoke to you, and you were needed in kings landing. Your father, Rhaenyra. You sit at the small council table while your sister remains cup bearer. Frankly you and Rhaenyra are exhausted of hearing talk of your father needing to remarry. Lord Corlys keeps pushing for father to marry Laena. While you and Rhaenyra understand it was to happen with time, the vultures push to rush.

An emergency small council meeting was called. You and Rhaenyra hurry your way to the council room. Upon entering there is dragon keeper waiting to speak.

Ziry occurred isse se blackness hen bantis, issa lords, during se hour hen massa. Se thief eluded īlva pursuit

(It occurred in the blackness of night, my lords, during the hour of the Bat. The thief eluded our pursuit.)

Skorkydoso iksos ziry possible bona nykeā zaldrīzes’s drōmon istan stolen hen hen hen gōvilagon tolī than tōmēpsa zaldrīzes keepers?

(How is it possible that a dragon’s egg was stolen out of from beneath more than fifty Dragon keepers?)

Ziry istan prince daemon qilōni istan se culprit, aōha dārōñe…

(It was Prince Daemon who was the culprit, your grace…)

“Daemon?” Your father spoke in a questioning tone, questioning himself as to why Daemon would do such a thing.

“The prince left a missive, which I believe might explain.” Spoke Otto.

“It is the pleasure of Daemon Targaryen, the prince of dragonstone and rightful heir to the iron throne, to announce that he is to take a second wife in the tradition of Old Valyria. She is to assume the title of Lady Mysaria of Dragonstone. Her grace is with child and is to have a dragons egg placed in the babe’s cradle in the custom of House Targaryen.” Maester Mellows pauses. “The prince has invited you to his wedding, your grace. It is in two days time.”

“Gods be good” mumbles Tywin Lannister.

“Who is Lady Mysaria-“ Corlys begins to question but is interrupted by Otto.

“Daemons whore. This is nothing less than sedition.”

“I strongly agree, sire.” Agrees Lyonel Strong.

Skore drōmon gōntan daemon gūrogon?

(Which egg did Daemon take?)

Se drōmon istan dreamfyre’s, prince. Keskydoso drōmon bona ao iderēptan syt prince baelon’s cradle.

(The egg was Dreamfyre’s, Princess. The same egg that you chose for Prince Baelon’s cradle.)

That was all it took for your father to finally take action. Seeing the hurt in Rhaenyra face. It was one thing to try to get a rise out of your father but to hurt his daughters was another issue.

“Assemble a detachment, Otto. I will go to dragon stone and drag daemon back to face justice myself.”

“Your grace! My apologies your grace but I cannot allow it. It is to dangerous. Daemon is without limit. Let me go to dragonstone.” With that Otto begins to give orders to Ser Harrold to gather men to prepare the ship to set sail to dragon stone.

Rhaenyra pulls you aside away from your father and the other men. “We are going to Dragonstone.”

“Nyra. No.”

“It’s to prevent blood shed. You know just as well as I do Daemon would love nothing more than to have Otto’s head on a spike.”

“I suppose. I don’t see the harm that though.”

“Y/n. I can retrieve the egg and if Daemon sees you and Dirrax it will force him to keep his temper under control.”

“I’m not his keeper. If Daemon wishes to kill. He will. Nonetheless I shall go. Only for you though.”

I will meet you at the dragon pit at the hour of the bat in 5 days time. The journey will take a long while, especially with Syrax never having done the journey. Prepare him for it. We will arrive when the ships arrive.”

Thankfully she listened to you, and in 5 days you both had changed into your riding leathers and met at the dragon pit. You opted to wear your black cloak over yours and to take the secret passage ways. You followed her closely behind on Dirrax who was double the size of Syrax.

Once at dragon stone Otto’s men had already arrived both sides with their swords in hand. And a woman in white with brown hair stood next to Daemon. Must be his whore you thought to your self. You had heard of her, never seen her. Your heart ached to think that she was carrying his child. While it had been 5 days since you learned of his betrayal, you hadn’t allowed your self time to process it fully. Being to busy with Rhaenyra. You hear Caraxes screech as he crawls the hill behind his rider. He must sense Syrax and Dirrax who begin to screech in response. Rhaenyra and Syrax land first, and you second behind her. It is then that the men “sheath the fucking steel” Otto yells. Rhaenyra dismounts from her dragon while you remain on yours. You have faith in her ability to handle your uncle.

“Issa kepa brōstan issa prince hen zaldrīzesdōron. Bona iksos issa sombāzmion ao issi living isse, kepus.” Rhaenyra spoke first.

(My father named me Princess of Dragonstone. That is my castle you are living in, uncle.)

“Daor ēva ao become hen age. Plus hae iksos aōha mandia” your uncle remarked.

(Not until you become of age. Plus as is your sister)

“Ao emagon angered aōha dārys.”

(You have angered your king.)

“Nyke don’t ūndegon skoro syt. Bisa iksos nykeā tubis hen biarves. Nyke naejot sagon.”

(I don’t see why. This is a day of celebration. I am to be wed.)

“Ao emagon nykeā ābrazȳrys.”

(You already have a wife.)

“Daor mēre hen issa.”

(Not one of my choosing.)

“Se bisa ao naejot laodigon issa lēkias drōmon?”

(And this required you to steal my brother’s egg?)

“Ao se aōha mandia rūsīr nykeā zaldrīzes skori ao istan āzma. Nyke jaelagon keskydoso syt issa riñnykeā.”

(You and your sister shared a cradle with a dragon when the two of you were born. I want the same for my child.)

“Aōha naejot emagon nykeā riñnykeā.”

(Your to have a child?)

He looked back at his whore.” Mēre tubis.” (One day) with those words you scoff as you watch your uncles whore leave.

“I’m right here, uncle… the object of your ire, the reason that you were disinherited. If you wish to be restored as heir you’ll need to kill me. So, do it. And be done with all this bother.” With that he looked at the Otto and the other knights, to rhaenyra. To you. And turned to walk away and quickly tossed the egg to Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra placed the egg in pot of fire and mounted Syrax. She left on Syrax thrilled at her accomplishment, she yelled with joy as she flew away on Syrax. While y/n and Dirrax stayed on the wall.

“Sōvēs Dirrax.” Once well in the air y/n let out all her emotions. Crying and screaming

“Dirrax. Dracarys!” With that Dirrax let out a large breath of fire that filled the sky. And they stayed behind Rhaenyra the whole way back kings landing.

A knight alerts your father of yours and Rhaenyra return. You both are then taken to his chambers.

“You fled kings landing without a word. And you acted without the crowns leave. You two are my only heirs. You both could have been killed.”

“May we sit.” Rhaenyra ask.

“You went to dragon stone.” Your father repeats himself.

“And retrieved the egg without bloodshed. A feat I’m not sure Otto could’ve accomplished alone.” Rhaenyra points out.

“Yes, well…” he laughs. “ I sometimes forget how much you both are like your mother. Your mother’s absence is a wound that will never heal. Without her… the red keep has lost a warmth that I dare say it will never recover.”

“It pleases me to hear you say this. To know that y/n and I are not alone in our grief.”

“I wish I had known better what to say to you both in the aftermath. I struggled to realize that both my daughters had so quickly become women grown. But I know she understands what is now expected of me.”

“The king must take a new wife.” Rhaenyra says fighting back her tears.

“I could never replace your mother. No more than I intended to replace you as heir but you both are my only heirs and our line is vulnerable, to easily ended. And by marrying again, I may begin to ensure that we are better defended.”

“Against whom?”

“Whomever may dare to challenge us. I do not dare to make us estranged. The three of us.”

“You are the king and so, your first duty is to the realm. Mother would’ve understood this. Just as I do.”

“And I.” With that you and Rhaenyra leave to your chambers to sleep. And nothing could have prepared the two of you for the council meeting that would be held in the morning.

Your father stands at his chair with a nervous expression on his face. He looks to and Rhaenyra for reassurance. Rhaenyra nods her head and smiles in reassurance to him and he begins to speak.

“I intend to marry…. The lady Alicent Hightower before springs end.”

“This is an absurdity, my house is Valyrian. The greatest power in the realm.” Says Lord Corlys now stood from his seat.

“And I am your king.” With the Corlys leaves. And Rhaenyra fights back her tears in shock and betrayal. She then leaves before anyone else can see her emotions.

“Yes if you were to marry Laena. Not her only friend. This is a betrayal from not only you but Alicent as well. You mislead us both into believing you were to marry Laena.”

“Rhaenyra.” Your father calls out to her. Once she is gone your father looks to you.

“Last night, she said she understood.” He says to you.

“You assumed-“

“No! There was never any mention of Alicent in any of your conversations to wed. You walked with Laena. You questioned your council on whether marrying Laena was the proper thing to do.”

“Y/n.”

“No, now if you will excuse me. I have a mess to clean up that you have created.” With that you left to comfort Rhaenyra

~

Chapter 4

[novaursa]

Hello

Can I have a fem! Velaryon/Strong x Harwin (platonic)

Where the rumor about her father are getting out of control. Alicent tried to exposed to the king the truth about her bloodline, and for that she tried to betrothed her to a Strong (maybe her cousin or uncle) and Harwin step in and says no to nyra, that he doesn’t want his only daughter to marry a member of her family, he want her to be happy

The Weight of Truth

Requests are closed!

- Summary: When Alicent wants you to be betrothed to one of your father’s cousins, Harwin steps in.

- Paring: daughter!reader/ (father) Harwin Strong (platonic)

- Note: The reader is another bastard of Harwin Strong, and only daughter of Rhaenyra.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne

The air in the Red Keep felt heavier than usual. A storm brewed, not in the sky, but in the corridors of the castle itself. The tension that had been simmering for years was now threatening to boil over, and Harwin Strong could feel it in every fiber of his being. His steps echoed through the hall as he made his way toward the chambers where Rhaenyra waited, her summons terse and urgent. Harwin was no stranger to conflict, to whispers and veiled threats, but this—this was different. This involved blood. His blood. Her blood. Their daughter.

The door to her chambers creaked open, and he stepped inside. Rhaenyra stood by the window, her hands clenched at her sides, the flickering light of the setting sun casting long shadows across her face. She did not turn to greet him. Harwin shut the door behind him, his presence filling the room like the weight of an iron chain.

"They're coming for her," Rhaenyra's voice was tight, low, but laced with fury. She didn’t need to explain. Harwin knew exactly who she meant—Alicent and her venomous words, her sly manipulations. The Queen had grown bolder, emboldened by her paranoia and her children’s ambitions. Now, her sights were set on exposing the truth about Rhaenyra’s children, particularly the girl that the realm believed to be Laenor Velaryon’s daughter.

Harwin clenched his jaw, his fists curling into tight knots at his sides. He had heard the whispers—he always did. His daughter, their daughter, was in danger of being used as a pawn in a game of power and legacy. And now, Alicent had convinced King Viserys to betroth Y/N to one of his cousins. A match that would secure their bloodline but would lock her into a life dictated by others. A life where she would never truly belong.

"She will not marry into my family," Harwin said, his voice rough but determined. Rhaenyra finally turned to face him, her eyes narrowing, not in anger but in understanding. She had expected him to say this, had known he would never allow such a thing to happen.

"And what would you have me do?" Rhaenyra’s tone was sharp, though beneath it was a weariness that only Harwin could recognize. "This is exactly what Alicent wanted—to force our hand, to make us react in a way that would only serve her goals."

Harwin moved closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "I don’t care what Alicent wants. I care about her—about our daughter’s future." His words were hard, but there was an edge of desperation to them. "She deserves more than this—more than being bound to a family that will never truly accept her. You and I both know what they’ll say, what they’ll think. I will not let her be another pawn in this game."

Rhaenyra sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of his words. She paced across the room, her silks rustling softly against the stone floor. "And what would you have me do, Harwin? Deny the King? Refuse the betrothal outright?" Her voice softened, her gaze flickering with uncertainty. "Viserys believes this is for her benefit, to secure her future."

"Her future," Harwin repeated, his voice low, as if the words themselves were bitter in his mouth. "Her future will be miserable if we go through with this. They will see her as nothing more than a bastard with a Velaryon name, and they will never stop reminding her of it."

Silence stretched between them, tense and suffocating. Rhaenyra turned to the window once more, her eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for answers beyond the stone walls of the Keep. Harwin watched her, waiting, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never doubted Rhaenyra’s strength before, but this—this was different. This was their child, the one tethered to both of them by blood and secrets.

Finally, Rhaenyra spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "This is how Alicent will destroy us, you know. Not by war or rebellion, but by sowing seeds of doubt and discord. By turning Viserys against us, little by little."

Harwin frowned, his brow furrowing in frustration. "Let her play her games. I’ll not stand by and watch my daughter’s life be shaped by that woman’s scheming." He took a deep breath, forcing himself to steady his voice. "I don’t care what Alicent thinks, or what Viserys believes. I care about Y/N, about her happiness. And I will not let them strip her of that for their own purposes."

Rhaenyra turned to face him again, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, she nodded. "You’re right. She deserves better than this." Her voice was firmer now, a decision settling within her. "We will find another way."

Harwin’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though his resolve remained as hard as iron. "I’ll protect her, Rhaenyra. No matter what it takes. I’ll make sure she’s safe."

"I know," Rhaenyra said softly, stepping closer to him. "I know you will."

For a moment, the tension between them ebbed, replaced by a shared understanding, a quiet bond forged not by words but by the love they had for their daughter. Harwin met her gaze, the unspoken promise hanging in the air between them.

No matter what Alicent or the court plotted, they would not allow Y/N to be a casualty in their endless struggle for power.

[writervaul-t]

something about you

chapter two: benji

summary: [name] can't seem to shake off benjicot blackwood even with every precaution she takes to avoid him.

pairing: modern!benjicot blackwood x f!reader

notes: if any of you are british, please dm me and tell me i used the right terms for schools 😃 i live for accuracy. also yes, reader is meek and shy and i want to hear NOTHING from any of you.

masterlist | playlist

The rumors circled faster than [Name] running home the same day she had announced she was dating Benjicot Blackwood at Nyra's Nook. When she had gotten home, she texted her boss, apologizing for the commotion and explained a white lie about eating a bad pasta for lunch finally getting to her that afternoon.

Luckily enough, Rhaenyra was more than sympathetic and told her to have the following day off. [Name] spent the day doing what she knew best: hiding out in her room and watching horror movies to avoid hearing anything about what her loud mouth said the previous day.

She hadn't heard anything up until Chiara had barged into her room, howling, "YOU'RE GOING ON A DATE WITH BENJICOT BLACKWOOD?"

"Any louder and the deaf old women two doors down will hear you." [Name] replies, pausing the Babadook.

Chiara ignores her, shoving her friends feet off on her bed to make space for herself. Chiara Tyrell had been one of the many students who came from affluent families - her's being well known for their sustainable food production company - but had hit it off when they were assigned as roommates. She had never hid the fact that she was a Tyrell but also didn't treat [Name] like a piece of gum under her shoe for being a scholarship student, the latter appreciating the treatment.

Still, Chiara always managed to learn about circling gossip and would tell [Name] whether she wanted to or not. Now with the newest information revolving her own roommate, Chiara looked more than pleased to hear directly from the source.

"How'd that happen? Didn't we have plans to watch the movies? Not to mention - Benjicot Blackwood of all people? This is rich."

[Name] dug herself further into her blanket. "Well, first we are still watching movies that and second we aren't going on a date..."

She explains to her friend what had happened, to which she nearly fell over laughing after hearing the whole situation. [Name] swung a pillow at Chiara's face when she wouldn't cease her howling and warned her about their neighbors again.

After taking a few heaving breaths, Chiara stopped, gasping out every word she could think. "That's amazing - and to avoid Aeron of all people? This is even better than the horror movie!"

"What's the deal anyways with those two? I wasn't sure if they wanted to kill or kiss each other." [Name] comments, remembering the scene in front of her.

"Well, they might as well have done either. Their families do similar businesses in trading and unfortunately have property close by so they've always been at each other's throats. Father to son usually. Its like an inherited right to want provoke the next generation." Chiara explains. "Those two, however..."

A look of amused contemplation falls on her face before she giggles. Leave it up to Chiara to not take anything seriously, though [Name] enjoyed their differences, unlike Benjicot and Aeron. "Get on with it!"

"Aeron and Benjicot went to the same schools, all the way up to Sixth Form." Chiara continues. "And anything one had, the other wanted - that included girls and guys. Them coming to university at the same time just about caught everyone's interest. I was hoping one of them would fight again but it seems like Benjicot's pulled back since he entered uni. No one's seen him with anyone that way since we started our first year."

"Why?"

Chiara shrugged. "Who knows. He does have a group of friends he hangs around with nowadays; doesn't hang off with his cousins as much and never floats around groups anymore. At least, according to Janna Terrick."

[Name] nodded, staring at the ceiling as she finally asked herself what had she gotten into? For once her political science lessons finally taught her something and that she just put herself between a family feud and more likely than not brought a couple of monsters out the closet.

"I'm so excited," Chiara continues, laying her body on top of [Name]'s. She just about choked on her curly brown hair and attempted to push her off when all her weight was placed on top of her. "My roommate - my cute little roommate of all people to be in this!"

"This cute little roommate will hit you with another pillow if you don't get off me!" [Name] counters, shoving her off. She turns to the wall, her anxiety building in her chest as she thinks about having to face one of them the next say. "And its not like I wanted this to happen. It just came out because Aeron is such a prick!"

"I'm only joking. If you really do need help, just let me know. I know a few people that can do something about this." Chiara offers ominously, patting [Name]'s arm. [Name] eyes her suspiciously, trying to decide if she wanted to know what she meant or not. She kept her eyes on the wall instead.

"I'm sure another issue will come up soon to mask what happened; besides, almost all the Targaryens and Hightowers are in this year too. There's more than enough drama to go around." Chiara reassures before a mischevious smile comes on her face. "Although it would be fun watching you finally do something outside of studying and working--"

"Chiara."

"Right, I'll leave."

For some reason, [Name] prayed to the gods, old and new, for something to happen to the Targaryens and Hightowers like Chiara mentioned. It had been about two and a half weeks since her blunder and she was still getting strange looks from classmates that just about ignored her until now.

One of them, a Tully brother she couldn't distinguish from, had been brave enough to ask her during her shift at the library, "Is it really true? You got Ben to finally go on a date? Y'know I hadn't pegged him to be the type to date someone like you but I'm glad!"

If she hadn't been so mortified, she would have told Kermit/Oscar off but was beaten to it by the other Kermit/Oscar who smacked his head after he had heard the end his brother's sentence. He sent [Name] an apologetic look.

"My brother was dropped when he was a babe. I'm so sorry. He means well; we're all glad Ben isn't as gloomy as he was before." He offers with a smile before grabbing his brother by the scruff of his shirt like an alleycat and walking away to the other side of the library.

[Name] had just about dropped everything and hid away into the archives section after that. It was embarrassing enough she kept remembering the conversation; it was even worse when people came up to her and ask abouf it.

Still, she made use of her two jobs always finds herself hiding in the archives room or the back of the bookstore whenever she caught sight of Benjicot or Aeron these past few weeks.

The day she had come back to the store, Aeron hadn't shown up but Benjicot had, setting down the books he wanted to buy the first time he was there. "I wanted to get them but Nyra sent me away after you left." He explained to which she only offered a nod as she scanned his selections and packed it quickly into a bag. "Look, I--"

"Thank you for shopping with us, come again. Bye!" [Name] said hurriedly, the guilt of bringing him out of his built in shell overcoming her. She walked away to the back, not coming out until the next customer had come in and she was sure Benjicot was gone. Any time they would be in the same vicinity to one another, he was tried to talk to her but she evaded every attempt he made and seemingly found new routes to her usual spots around campus.

Aeron, surprisingly, pulled back, only giving her long looks across the campus grass during sunset. Still, she wasn't sure the trade in with Benjicot was any better, even though the latter significantly less pushy and condescending as his sworn enemy (though she wouldn't know that much since she never gave him a chance to speak with her).

The archives had been her biggest form of respite from the world it seemed; the silence was a welcome change to the every bustling college town of King's Landing. There were no customers or library patrons to ask her of anything, no nosy classmates staring or making comments, and there was no Benjicot Blackwood or Aeron Bracken to bother/or glare at her.

She sat at one of the long tables down there, contemplating nothing and enjoying it as much as she can before reminding herself that the head librarian, Alicent, would be looking for her soon. As she made her way out the door, she nearly slammed into another body.

"I'm so sorry--"

"Its fine--"

"But I was in the way and I should have been looking forward--!" She started before her mouth clamped shut and met Benjicot Blackwood's brown eyes.

He gave her a reassuring smile as he repeated, "Like I said its fine. I was looking for you anyways." He frowned to himself before correcting himself. "No, well, I was looking for the archives for a class project but I was looking for you. I wasn't following, I promise. I wouldn't do that."

His nervousness seemed to outweigh his appearance - still in the learher bomber jacket and dark clothes. A fashion sense polar opposite to him right now. For some reason this eased [Name] a bit more, though not enough to keep eye contact with him. Her sneakers were a bit more entertaining to look at over Benjicot.

"Um, right." [Name] started, not sure where the conversation should go next. "I'm, uh, sorry. By the way."

"Whatever for?"

"Pulling you into that mess with Aeron. I panicked and wanted him off my back. If I'd known both of you knew each other, let alone hate each other, I wouldn't have brought you in this mess." [Name] explains, finally glancing up at him, fighting the urge to look down again after realizing he had been watching her the whole time as she spoke, listening to every word she said. She adds quietly, "Now we're both pulled into some ridiculous scandal with the school."

Benjicot blinks at her before asking, "You really didn't know about our families? So you didn't just pull me into all of that because you knew about us?"

"No!" [Name] nearly shouts. She wasn't the perfect person but bringing people into her problems hadn't been something she was proud of. "I panicked and you walked in at a seriously unfortunate time."

He nods, seemingly taking on everything she said becore shaking his head and laughing. [Name] frowned, unsure how to take the reaction. Was he mad? Confused?

"Are you upset?" She asks, relief flooding through her as he shook his head.

"No not at all. I just uh..." He starts, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Feel a little embarrassed now."

Huh? "Why?"

"Well I was going to propose we continue--"

"What?" [Name] says, her voice echoing in the empty hall. Benjicot nodded. "What? Why? Aren't you sick of having to answer questions about us already?"

"No actually, I've just been giving vague answers to keep everyone guessing." Benjicot admits, smiling in amusement as [Name] stared at him in shock. "Its fun when you're bored. What have you been saying?"

Nothing. I've been avoiding everyone. "That's not the point. Why do you want to even continue?"

"Ah well, you seem familiar with our families a bit, right?" He starts. "I'm not looking for any trouble but I just enjoy getting under Bracken's skin a lot. Its our second year here and I don't go and poke around with him as much as I did when we were kids. He's on edge and overconfident. I just wanted to remind him that I'm still here to knock him down a bit, yeah? Also, he doesn't seem to hang around the bookstore anymore so you haven't been dealing with him lately."

"Yeah." [Name] said, a little dizzy. He wanted to continue this? Even with the explanation, she had a hard time wrapping her head around it. "So if we pretend to go out a little longer, it irritates Aeron and he'll leave me alone?"

"Something like that, yeah. You don't have to agree to it. Not after you said you knew nothing about the fueds. I know you didn't like him that much either so I thought you bringing me in on that was part of some plan." Benjicot says hurriedly. "I just thought it'd be fun for a little bit - a couple weeks at best - and you'll get time away from that prick forever if we continue."

A bit of the Benjicot from a few weeks ago had came up at that moment when he mentioned Aeron. He really did hate him. Enough to propose to a stranger they should continue "dating" just for some laughs. [Name] stood for a minute, staring down at her shoes again as if they had the answer to this problem.

Now, she could have just told Aeron off but what would that do for someone as dense and self absorbed as him? If she followed Benjicot's suggestion and continued this ruse, it would mean he'd leave her alone since Benjicot is around.

She chewed her lip, following the pit in her stomach as she said, "Fine."

Benjicot's eyes widened, looking like a new person from the sudden agreement. "Seriously?"

[Name] nodded. "On some conditions." She held her fingers up each time she spoke. "One, we only do this on campus and at the bookstore. And try not to be seen with other people around Aeron and his friends; they might get suspicious."

"Easy enough."

"Two, no kissing on the mouth or anything of that sort." Benjicot sent her a confused look.

"How would we convince them then? You act like you've never been kissed before--" He stops himself as [Name] sent him a scathing look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She says defensively. "Not all of us had time for relationships if we wanted to get into a good university."

"No, I just - you're um, really pretty?" He says the statement like a question, but that only set a fire in [Name]'s chest as she glared at him. He shakes his head in panic. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to make it sound like an insult. Its just uh... Yeah." He ends whatever he says, clearly not wanting to piss [Name] off anymore. "How about no mouth to mouth of any kind? Just head kisses? That's still convincing enough."

[Name] stared at him, narrowing her eyes in suspicion to see if he gave that suggestion for real or just to appease her. "Fine. Head kisses and that's it."

She held up a third finger. "Two months at best with this. Six weeks basically. We pretend to date, 'break up' and we go on with our days like before."

"We can't even be friends?" Benjicot jokes, though she can hear the hint of genuineness behind it. Given what she head about Benjicot Blackwood, he seemed like nothing but trouble. But being in front him now, so quiet and considerate of her feelings, she wasn't sure what to think anymore.

This time, she was the one to give a reassuring smile. "Let's see in a couple months, Benjicot."

"Just call me Benji. I don't get called Benjicot unless I'm in trouble."

"Sure. Benji."

After laying all their ground rules, Benji offered to walk her home ("Its almost dark and now's a good time to start since everyone's walking home!"). The walk was silent, both unsure of what to say to each other at that moment in time.

Between the both of them, Benji seemed the most natural about acting everything out. He kept an arm around her and often glanced her way, as if completely enamored by her appearance even if she looked like she crawled out of a sewer after a long day of pushing heavy books around all day.

Regardless, she could feel staring again but she didn't mind this time now that she had Benji around to be in on this. By the time they reached her apartment, she pulled away from him. She looked at him and for once she seemed to have a good look at him.

His brown hair was messed up from the autumn wind. The leather jacket fit him well but he clearly seemed to have just grown into it from how he awkwardly kept his hands shoved into his pockets and moved his shoulders around it with uncertainty. In that moment, Benji was just like any other person and not some lone wolf with a rakeish history.

"Thanks for walking me home." [Name] says before pausing. "Benji."

Benji grins. "No problem. [Name]."

The door swings open, Chiara stepping out through the door. Her eyes dart between the two before stepping askde to let [Name] walk in. They both wave at Benji, who reciprocates before turning to walk back to his own place. After he'd been far away enough, Chiara pulls [Name] by her sweater into their apartment.

"What happened?"

The question itself wouldn't give a clear enough answer for her friend. [Name] puts her bag down as she speaks, "I think you'll need to sit down for this. You might faint after you hear everything."

taglist

@not-a-glad-gladiator @opheliaas-stuff @sahvlren @nikki-is-a-nerd @weird-things-i-think-about @cxcilla @anakilusmos @haydee5010 @waystarkia

[pizzapottah]

quotes from the new chapter after the kind request of @asteria5945 🫡🫡🫡 tw they're not revised lmao

As always, you enter to find the tapestries green. “Ugh,” you huff, “not again.” 

“Again?” Oscar asks, confused. 

“Happens every time I’m away for more than three days,” you mutter. “The wench changes the tapestries and hides the paintings. Like it’s named the Green Keep.”

—

“–’Nyra? Is that you?” he rasps.

“No, Grandsire,” you reply gently, taking a chair and sitting down beside his four-poster bed. You murmur your name, “It’s me, I have returned from Riverrun.”

“Ah,” he murmurs, letting his head fall back down into the pillow, raising his hand for you to take it. “It all went well, I hope?”

You squeeze his hand, barely nodding, “For now, the matter has been settled. What about you? What has the Maester said?”

“That I need to rest,” he coughs, “did you know Rhaenyra has arrived, too?”

“I figured out as much; when she wrote to me, she was already on the boat to King’s Landing.”

He hums. “She has shown me the boys– oh, they have grown so much. And little Aegon and Viserys…”

—

Your face remains still, not a smile in sight and no emotions to show. “Good. You have seen how to handle such matters. From now on, they will be in your hands.”

Your mother’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

“Excuse me?” you mock, “You let me pick up your slack for the last eight years, mother. I’m done.”

—

“You mean to tell me Vaemond called this petition because my grandfather is deadly injured and nobody thought of telling me? And even worse, that right now Otto Hightower’s arse is sitting on the Iron Throne with a pillow? My ancestors have burnt down entire cities for far less!” you gag, “Oh, pardon him, Aegon, he doesn’t know what he’s doing… sitting on the throne he forged with his fallen enemies’ swords out of dragonfire– with a fine pillow no less!” 

[ashblooddragons]

The Red Queen (Chapter 11/?)

Your Pov

I sit at the dining table pushing a price of chicken around my plate. The room is deathly quiet, the only sound filling the room being the scrap of forks and resigned sighs. 

I turn to Papa when I notice he keeps glancing my way. Finally he clears his throat and turns in his seat to look at me..

“How has your studies been?” He asks wiping gravy from his lips. 

I stop and think about my studies. I've been going to more lessons with Maester Mellos, lately he's been teaching me the houses and where they live. We just finished the Northern houses and are now working on the Vale houses.

“Good, I know all the Northern houses and their sigils and words. I'm now working on the Vale.” I say matter-of-factly hoping the stiff atmosphere will go away soon.

Papa gives me a solemn smile. “Did you know your Mother is-was from the Vale? An Arryn in fact.” 

I nod excitedly. “I learned about that today. Mama would talk about her childhood in the Vale but she never said she was an Arryn before she was Queen.” 

Papa does that sad smile he does when Mama is brought up. It still hurts, Ali says it always will, you just learn to live with the pain. 

“Your Mother wished to take you and Rhaenyra to see the Vale once the babe was born. Perhaps-perhaps we can still fulfill that wish one day.” Papa suggests almost seeming hopeful. 

“I would love that.” I say with an enthusiastic nod. The thought of seeing where Mama grew up, of where she did all those silly things she told stories about was an exciting thought. 

But just as Papa goes to make plans Nyra speaks for the first time this evening. “About today-”

Papa turns to her with a frown before he pats her hand in comfort. The act seems so natural, not forced or alien like when he tries to comfort me. 

“It is alright, you were only trying to help.” He says with a kind smile.

Nyra smiles back before shaking her head. “I just…I just wanted to help.” She says looking down at her plate. 

“Ever since your Mother passed, you have been…distant. Though I cannot say it is entirely your fault, I myself have been hiding away from you, the court, your sister.” Papa says as he rubs my head when he says ‘your sister’. 

I can't help but frown, it felt like Papa forgot about me until the end, that I was an afterthought. I suddenly find I'm no longer hungry and set my fork on the table as I look at Papa again.

“You girls must have heard the rumors already, I'm afraid they're true.” Papa says with a resigned sigh. “I am remarrying, every King needs a Queen. And you will need a King one day.” He says looking at me with a sad smile. 

I freeze at his words, not that I will need a King but that he is marrying again. So soon? Mama has only been dead less than a year, Septa Martha says you are to mourn for a year before seeking another match if you must. I think as I chew on my bottom lip ignoring the taste of copper that reaches my touch. 

“It is your duty, Mother would understand.” Nyra says with a sad smile. 

It is this that makes me say what I do next, and I quickly regret it with how Nyra glares at me. “Any ladies in mind?” 

Papa looks back at me with a look of pain. “Yes, a few, in fact one I will be walking in the gardens with on the morrow. The Lady Laena.” 

I feel my heart stop, tears come to my eyes. Why Laena? Laena doesn't want to be Queen, she wants to fly and dance, she wants to see the great wonders of the world, eat exotic food and meet exotic people. She doesn't want to be forced to smile and look pretty. She wants to run, scowl at the people she doesn't like, and smile so big you can see her go when she sees someone she adores. She likes to laugh so much her belly hurts and tears come to her eyes, not make a soft laugh to look kind and pretty. Laena is wonderful how she is, being Queen will destroy her. I think as I wipe my tears hoping Papa didn't see them.

But it is not me who responds, it is Nyra. “A wonderful match, unite us with the Velaryons completely. Me with Laenor and you with Laena.” 

“Yes, my thoughts exactly.” Papa says before clearing his throat and looking towards me again.

I can't find any kind words so instead I say what Septa Martha taught me to say to a lord and Lady who are just betrothed.

“A wondrous match, I pray the gods will make it fruitful.” I can hardly recognize my own voice. It almost seems as if the words leaving my own lips are from another, but from the smile and pat on the cheek Papa gives me it was me who spoke such words. 

For the rest of dinner it feels like I'm not there, like I'm watching from the outside as Nyra and Papa joke and talk the meal away. The only way I know I'm there is because of how tightly my hands grip each other, I feel my nails dig into the backs of my hands. 

The moment I'm in my chambers I burst into sobs startling Orchid as she picks me up and holds me close. I grip her dress that always smells of fresh bread and ash from the fire. 

“Whatever has hurt that little heart of yours Princess, I hope the world will take it away.” Orchid says sitting in her chair by the fire as she rubs my back.

The next day I stand on a balcony watching Laena and Papa walk together. I bite my lip when Laena looks up towards me with a frown. Before she went on her walk with Papa she begged me for forgiveness stating she never wanted this and will try her best to make him not like her.

Her asking for forgiveness confused me, why would it be her fault our Papa's want her to marry mine? And I told her as such which brought a slight smile to her lips, though it quickly disappeared when her Mama came and told her the King is waiting for her.

“Does it bother you?” Laena’s Mama asks out of nowhere. I look around to see if anyone is near for her to be speaking to but there is no one. “Does it bother you?” She says again as she stands and walks over to me.

“Does what bother me?” I ask confused as to why she is speaking to me. She usually avoids me unless I'm with Laena and even then its short greetings and pleasantries. 

“That your best friend is possibly going to marry your Father.” She says as if that were obvious.

I'm shocked by the question, for I thought it would be clear how I feel about this.

“Of course it does, doesn't it bother you?” 

She only hums before facing me, her cold eyes make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. How does Laena live like this? I think before pushing my shoulders back down standing straighter. 

“Here is the hard truth that no one wishes to tell you, little Princess. The King will remarry, and more than likely he will have a son and that boy will be expected to be named heir. You will be nothing but a second daughter again.” 

I stop for a moment thinking over her words. If Papa marries and has a son, my life will go back to normal? Maybe that will let Kepus come back! And with that thought a smile rises to my lips 

“That's alright, I never wanted to be the heir. And if it will let the realm be happy as well as Papa then I'm ok with that.” 

This seems to puzzle her if the furrow of her brow is any indicator. “Then why does it bother you that the King is finding a new wife?” 

“I don't like that Papa is finding a new wife, but it's his duty. What I don't like is that Laena is an option, Laena doesn't want this, she wants to be free, she wants to fly everyday and eat weird things, not be Queen and have everyone looking at her.” I say as if that is obvious.

She seems shocked but then smiles down at me before stroking my cheek. “You truly are a wonderful friend to my girl, and I thank you for that.” 

I open my mouth to respond when we hear Laena call out to me. When I turn she is running full speed towards me and with a glance down in the royal gardens I can see Papa has left. 

“I need you to swear something for me!” Laena demands as she stands in front of me holding my hands.

“Of course! Anything!” I swear nodding my head. 

“If I have to marry him, kill me, I refuse to die from boredom!” 

All I can do is blink before I burst out laughing. 

“I mean it! I will not be forced to live my days in boredom just so some old men are happy!” She screams before stomping her foot as if that solidifies the deal.

I only smile shaking my head as she grabs my hand to go and play in the gardens stating “I had to walk and be ladylike! Let's be us now!” And I can't help but want that too.

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @athzhowakar

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 17: The Sovereign, the Slayer, and the Seer.

Summary: In the wake of Rhysand’s ascension as High Lord, the Bone Carver gifts a prophecy. More than five hundred years later, Azriel continues to wait for the one who is finally reborn as his High Lady’s sister. All it takes is a dip in the Cauldron for things to start falling into place.

Chapter Summary: Azriel and Nyra are sweet. Also, Nyra wields her power in different ways.

Author's message: This is the last chapter before a time skip where I'm going to speed up things by inserting all the fluff and the smut I wrote in the office, the public transport, and everywhere I got carried away.

@feerique always and eternally grateful to you!!✨✨

Word count: 6.8k (Enjoy!!)

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

Nyra remembered the day she poisoned her mother for the first time. 

It hurt every time her mother slashed her palm, seeing Nesta being moulded into something else, seeing Elain and Feyre walking on eggshells every day. 

Their mother had plans for them—Nyra to be poisoned, Nesta married to an old duke, Elain and Feyre sent to a horrible aunt. It was too much. Everyone was at risk. And their father was as unreliable and absent as ever. 

There was also the story of left-handed women in the Archeron family. Long before the partition of the lands between the fae and humans, their ancestors had resided in a land of snow, the proof of which lived on in their blue eyes. 

One ancestor had been summoned by a fae who prophesied about a left-handed female born into the family with a fate woven in darkness. To prevent that, the fae suggested forcing the left-handed ones to ‘become’ right-handed. 

That led to the cruel practice of slashing the left palms of left-handed girls, to force them to use their right hand. Failure to do so before puberty resulted in poisoning to death. No left-handed girl in the family survived.

Her mother had started slashing her palm every three to four weeks somewhere around the age of five and had started poisoning her by the age of twelve, nearing puberty. Death awaited her but that was merciful compared to the life her sisters would’ve lived.

So she did it. 

She poisoned her mother, passed it off as an illness, and the horrible woman finally passed away. 

Back then, Nyra had been poisoned enough for an aftermath that would last her entire life as an incurable illness. 

Then came the Cauldron. And then she’d died. Really died. 

Yes. It was a very painful affair. As if she was being ripped from. . . something.

Nyra was the only one who did not remember the kidnapping or how she’d been thrown into the Cauldron. Her only vague memory was about being drenched, walking, laying down, and a blue light before everything turned black. 

Her left hand had begun trembling and her scar reminded her of Azriel’s hands. 

“My half brothers were not pleased with the existence of a bastard. They wanted to test if their father’s illegitimate progeny had enough healing prowess so. . . they. .” 

Azriel hesitated to continue. Nyra hummed, looking at the night sky. She laid her head against his arm and continued to not look at him even though she felt his gaze on her. 

“What do you think of it?” Nyra straightened herself and looked at him, caught unaware by his question. He seemed expectant and nervous. 

“I don’t have the right to have an opinion, Az.”  She answered softly.

“I am a bastard.” 

“And?”

“My hands are like this.”

“And?” 

“Surely you must think something about it.”

Nyra looked at the night sky. “Why do you sound like you’re trying to push me away?” 

She now turned to him fully, angling her body accordingly. “It’s like you’re asking me to- I don’t know. What are you trying to do? Stop me from wanting to be your friend?” 

Azriel had nothing to say. He looked down at his scarred hands like an admonished child. 

“I’m not- I don’t even know what to say. Just. . Ugh!” That was the first time Nyra had ever let herself make a sound like that. Let herself not be ladylike as her mother had demanded. “Do you hate me or something?” 

“I don’t hate you.” He immediately spoke, sounding panicked. 

“I think you’re brave.” She whispered. “I also think that if your half brothers were alive, I might’ve struck them with lightning. Or poisoned them.” 

“Murder is a crime.” Azriel tried to joke. She found him so adorable. 

“Nobody can tell if I summoned the lightning or if it was actually a natural disaster.” She drawled with a smile.

“I can.” Azriel was now amused. 

“I’d like to think that if I were murdering someone, you’d wait with a shovel to hide the body.”  

Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. “I think I might just hand you the Truth Teller for your murder.”

“Wouldn’t want anything to happen to your pretty knife, Az.” 

“That pretty knife has drawn much blood.” 

“It’s too late for me.” Her words might have sounded out of context but the way Azriel’s features morphed into surprise, she knew he’d understood. 

“You. . .” He was looking at her again, lips parted. 

“What?” She laughed.

“I didn’t. . . I. .”

“I suppose it’s baffling.” 

“Consider me baffled.” He exhaled and looked straight ahead. “Wow. That’s. . .”

“Scary?”

“Surprising, baffling, mind blowing, yes. Scary, no.” 

“Would be the shock of anyone’s life if a woman like me scared the Spymaster of the Night Court.”

Azriel immediately looked at her, his gaze shaking her soul. “You’re a myriad of mysteries, Nyra Archeron, and I may be too curious for my own good.” 

She looked away with a smile, closing her eyes. 

“How about we exchange secrets?” Azriel’s proposal was tempting. Feeding her desire to know the elusive Spymaster. 

“Go on.”

“I was twelve when I first killed.” 

And Nyra grinned brightly at that. “Same!” 

It was strange to be talking and bonding over such topics but Azriel looked at her and grinned back. And under the night sky with a crescent moon hanging over them, they’d confessed everything about their first kill. 

By the end of that conversation, Azriel had an arm around Nyra’s shoulder and she was leaning against him. 

“I feel light.” He spoke softly. And she knew she felt the same. Years of bottling things up and she was finally unravelled. 

“I want to tell Feyre and Elain.” About how she’d killed their mother.

“Feeling ready?”

“I feel light.” She repeated his words and looked at him. If life was a little better, kinder, maybe they would’ve kissed. But this was the best of reality and this moment would continue to live in her memory. 

He squeezed her arm and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and reality became infinitely more beautiful. 

Nyra smiled. 

The timing was bad. 

War was inevitable. The king wanted the Archeron sisters. Everyone was preparing. Nyra was learning to control her powers and access more information from her archives but. . . She was so attracted to Azriel. 

In her defence, Azriel should not be so. . . perfect. 

He was kind and so sweet to her. Always so patient and made time for her. Such a wonderful soul. So reliable. 

And he had a great face. That was just. . . Nyra clutched her sheets and turned over to the other side. And she turned again. 

She would’ve liked to complain because how was his every movement so sensual? And why did he spar shirtless? 

Nyra continued yawning but she couldn’t sleep. The first light of dawn peeked in from the corners of the curtains. 

Frustrated, she grabbed a robe and stepped out, walking through the dimly lit corridor. She reached the staircase and since she’d never been upstairs, she ascended. A door was ajar and she could see the lavender sky before the sun truly appeared for the day. 

As she neared it, the light of the dawn was covered by the glaring darkness. Dark swirls wafted over to her and stopped in front of her. 

She lifted a hand as she always did and welcomed the shadows to play with her. They perched themselves on her head and shoulders and crawled along the skirts and sleeves of her robe and finally played with her fingers and cheeks. Their cool touch made her sleepier. 

The call of her name jolted her from her haze. Feyre was standing by the door. 

“Hello.” She sounded so tired and sleepy and soft. Feyre took her hand and took her with her. The terrace of the House of Wind was in fact an open space and Cassian was yelling and Nyra nearly stumbled only for the shadows to catch her waist. 

“Careful.” Feyre warned, immediately at her side now that she’d realised her sleepy sister might need more assistance if she were to reach anywhere safely. 

The shadows were cool and so gentle and their wispy sounds were lulling her to sleep so nicely. Feyre helped her lean against a wall somewhere and Nyra no longer felt her hand. 

She enjoyed the sensation of the shadows massaging her head and shoulders and hands. And she was so sleepy she could simply fall and not care where she fell. 

“Nyra!” The loud voice jolted her from her haze. Was that Cassian?

“You woke her up, idiot.” Another voice came, low and deep and she could fall in that voice and sleep there. 

“Overprotective bastard.” A male laugh followed that comment. 

Footsteps and more voices and she forced herself to open her eyes. Her vision took their time to clear up and finally revealed three shirtless Illyrians to her. Nyra blinked and then frowned. 

“Won’t you catch a cold?” She meant to sound stern but she sounded too soft. A yawn escaped her. 

“I’ll be fine. Feyre darling is here to warm me up.” Rhysand sounded like he was eagerly waiting for that.

“And Cassian and Azriel will warm each other up?” She asked, her head tilting to the side. 

“You’re welcome to join us, Nyra.” Cassian grinned and she couldn’t help her smile at the early morning teasing. 

“I’d like to sleep.”

“You’d be missing out.” Cassian teased again and received another yawn as a reply. 

“Wouldn’t you rather have Azriel all to yourself?” Nyra smiled softly. She looked at Azriel and frowned. “Where are your shadows?”

The shadowsinger smiled at her. “With you.” 

And as if they wanted to remind her, one of the tendrils tugged at her fingers. She looked down at her hand and found shadows on her hands and the length of her robe. 

“Do you want to go back to your room?” Azriel asked. He sounded kind and his intentions were kind and her stupid self didn’t even bother registering that because his voice was far too sensual to her ears and it made her shiver. 

“You’re cold.” Azriel noted. And when her eyes cooperated with her, she found herself in front of a very sweaty, shirtless Azriel whose chest glowed in the early light of dawn. She blinked, took a step back, and lost her balance. 

Azriel had moved faster than she could comprehend and had caught her but sleep was betraying her for the second time that morning by abandoning her when she needed it the most. 

Because how was anyone supposed to see a shirtless Azriel in close proximity and remain standing? Nyra did not know how so she frowned. 

“I’m not cold.” She mumbled as the shadowsinger helped her stand straight. Her cheeks were warming up.

“And sleepy.” He helped her stand straight. “Come on, I’ll take you to your room.” Azriel placed his arms behind her back and legs and lifted her.

“I was not sleepy earlier when I left my room.” She mumbled, her head laying against his chest. His heartbeat was a beautiful sound. It was speeding up. “Your heartbeat is fast.” 

“I’ve been training awhile now, Nyra.” He made her name sound nicer than it usually was. Made her feel cherished with the way he called her name. 

And she wanted to do that for him. She wanted to love him. To cherish him. 

And she felt herself smile. 

This was. . . freeing.

Was this how it was?

To have a heart without inhibitions or doubts? 

How easy was it to see his face and forget everything else?

“Hm.” She turned her head towards his chest. “You smell nice.”

“I’m sweaty.” He had begun descending the stairs. She could feel it in the way he moved with her in his arms.

“Still nice.” And she found that comfortable space. With the shadows caressing her and Azriel’s warmth and the sound of his heartbeat, she floated away into the cosy dark. 

The realisation that her heart was leaving her to be somebody else’s affected her in a way she did not quite understand. But it was Azriel. . .

Nyra turned to the other side and slept soundly.

****

“What?” Feyre asked, amused by Cassian glancing at her for the third time. She had just entered wearing that starlit gown.

“You just look so. . .” 

“Here we go.” Mor muttered from beside Nyra. 

“Official.” Cassian looked at Mor incredulously. “Fancy.�� 

Nyra snorted and Cassian scowled at her. Azriel chuckled from the front door as he entered. His besotted shadows were already floating towards Nyra. 

“Over five hundred years old. A skilled warrior and general, famous throughout territories, and complimenting ladies is still something he finds next to impossible. Remind me why we bring you to diplomatic meetings?” Mor shook her head, feigning disappointment.

When the shadowsinger laughed again, Cassian glared at him. “I don’t see you resorting to poetry, brother.”

Azriel crossed his arms, smiling faintly at the sight of Nyra and his shadows. “I don’t need to resort to it.” 

Nyra looked up at him with a teasing smile. “Really?”

Azriel stared at her, wide eyed at having been caught off guard. He looked away as his cheeks warmed while the greedy little shadows tugged at her fingers, demanding her attention again. And while she fondly played with them, Rhys had appeared. 

“I thought you were leaving.” Nesta’s voice came from atop the stairs. She descended, moved past Cassian and Morrigan, and stopped near Nyra. She patted her twin on the head and walked towards Feyre to declare her intention to go with them. 

“As High Lady, Feyre is no longer my emissary to the human world.” Rhysand smiled at Nesta. “Want the job?”

A spark flared in those silvery blue eyes. “Consider this meeting a trial basis. And I’ll make you pay through the teeth for my services.”

Rhys bowed a little. “I would expect nothing less of an Archeron sister. Welcome to the court. You’re about to have one hell of a first day.” 

Nesta smiled, something unexpected for most of them. She went over to Nyra and sat on the armrest. “Are you okay?”

“Not good, not bad.” Nyra replied. 

Rhysand looked over at Nyra. “Interested in being an emissary, Nyra?”

She looked at him, contemplated the offer, and replied. “When I’m feeling better.” 

“You should.” Nesta spoke, looking at her with mild disapproval. “Make use of those languages you learned.”

“You’re fluent in those languages too.”

“Languages?” Feyre asked. 

“Eight.” Nyra raised her hand.

“Seven.” Nesta raised her hand.

“When?” Rhysand was stupefied. Languages in the mortal and fae lands were quite similar owing to the coexistence of both species until five hundred years ago. 

“Mother nearly screeched at us to learn five. We got carried away.” Nyra answered. 

“I’m not the one who learned another language just to talk to someone she’d only met.” Nesta muttered.

“Tell me about this.” Cassian eagerly asked, forgetting that he was supposed to remain nonchalant with Nesta. 

Nesta looked at him, surprised. She simply stared at him before finally speaking. “Once upon a time, Nyra wanted to talk to someone. But he did not speak any languages we were fluent in. So she learned his language and finally spoke to him.”

“Him?” Rhysand was now grinning like a cat and watching an utterly stone faced Azriel.

“Shut up.” Nyra muttered. The shadows had begun tugging on her fingers, as if someone would somehow take her away. 

“Two minutes into the conversation and she pushes him from the balcony.” Nesta concluded, earning a shocked look from all.

“As she should.” Azriel muttered. 

Nyra looked up at him in disbelief. “You don’t even know what happened.”

Azriel walked over and laid a possessive arm around her. He squeezed the flesh of her shoulder to remind himself that she was here in front of him. “I don’t need to.” 

Azriel simply watched her. He could watch her for so long. Her eyes as they brightened and dimmed during conversations. The movement of her mouth as she spoke and laughed and frowned or cried. 

And she was so willing to allow his scarred hands to touch her. 

Azriel had held Nyra a few times. And he was always marvelling at how unbelievably soft she was. For someone like him, she was so easily pressed against him. 

And he wrapped her in his arms for a hug. When Nyra looked up at him, confused, Azriel realised what he’d done. “My mother likes hugs during her cycle.” 

It was true. 

“She sounds nice.” Nyra pressed her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes in contentment. “Warm hugs are nice.”

At this moment, where war was imminent, Azriel wanted to marry this female. 

Because every moment with her would be worth a lifetime of waiting and an unpredictable future. 

He heard her breathing pattern became even. She was comfortable and about to fall asleep. “Don’t fall asleep on me now.” 

“I won’t.” Nyra sounded tired and ready to fall asleep in his arms and Azriel was sure he would not leave if that happened. He looked at the people around him. 

His stupid brothers were grinning with Feyre soon picking up on the feel of the family. He was already suspicious of Mor being attracted to Nyra. The appearance of Elain at the end of the corridor, walking towards them, caught his eye. 

Elain looked at him and then at Nyra and hurried over. She took Nyra from Azriel’s arms and made her sit. Azriel knelt before her and took her hand. “Sleepy?”

“Hm.”

“Does it hurt?” 

Nyra sat straight, a little alert. “. . . no.” 

“Your tea will be ready soon.” 

“Hm.” Nyra looked at him and frowned when she realised something. “Don’t you have to go?”

“I do.”

“Then why are you still here?”

And could he ever answer that with the truth? That he wanted to be with her and take care of her. And that every moment he took here was his selfishness trying to salvage every scrap of a shared moment. 

At that moment, Rhysand walked over and patted her head with a fond smile. “Tea is on the second shelf from the top right. You know where the mugs are. Books are in the family library but if you need more from downstairs, Azriel’s shadows can get them for you. And-”

“If you want to go to the priestess’ library, ask Clotho for Inanna.” Mor interrupted her cousin. “There’s an ample supply of snacks and if you want something else, just tell the wraiths and they’ll get it for you. And-”

“Tell the shadows if you need anything.” It was Azriel’s turn now. “Tea, cheesecake, books, anything. They’ll get it for you. And if you want to go outside, tell them. They’ll take you wherever you wish.” 

“Do they go shopping?”

“Yes.” He’d discovered that recently when the shadows started spending his money on dresses that they were delighted when Nyra wore. He had no clue exactly which dresses they’d bought and Nyra knew nothing. 

We bought all of them. The little bastards sounded entirely proud. 

Look at the sage green she’s wearing now. 

Very demure. 

Very adorable. 

And we were very mindful. 

They were in their own world, celebrating as if they’d achieved something and Azriel did not even say anything because Nyra looked really. . . gods, he wanted to tear out his heart and give it to her. 

“No going back now.” Cassian grinned. 

Rhysand’s wings were now visible and as Nyra learned, it would be seen by the other High Lords and their diplomats for the first time. “I figure it’s time for the world to know who really has the largest wingspan.”

“Wingspan?” Nyra asked. 

Mor sauntered over with an impish grin. Azriel twirled Nyra around, shielding her from the blonde female but that didn’t deter Mor from nearly shouting. “Azriel has the largest-” Feyre nearly hauled her away. 

“Feyre. She needs to know this. It’s absolutely important.” Morrigan protested as if she’s been stopped from divulging the secret of the universe. “Azriel has the largest mmfph-” Feyre covered Mor’s mouth but the rest of the sentence was not hard for Nyra to guess. 

And Nyra who had been cornered by Azriel looked up at him with an amused smile. “Does the wingspan mean something else?”

Azriel closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t know how to answer that. He opened his eyes and found himself enamoured by her. 

“Is that why you don’t resort to poetry?” She tilted her head with a smile, completely swept away by the urge to tease him. 

Azriel met her gaze. He did not blush, did not shy away, but looked at her with intent. He leaned down to her ear and whispered. “Would you like to find out?” 

Nyra’s smile was no more. The intensity in his eyes was beginning to be reflected in her own. She saw his gaze fall from her eyes to her lips. 

Something more powerful than lightning crackled between them. 

Nyra, now aware of her own attraction towards him, was not in control of her words or actions. 

Azriel, on the other hand, had simply succumbed to the odd bit of courage and had not expected the way she reacted. 

She’s attracted. She finds you attractive! The shadows nearly blew his eardrums with their cheers. Kiss her! Kiss her, you stupid male! 

“Go to your meeting.” Nyra whispered, placing a hand on his chest. She pushed him but he did not budge. 

She met his gaze and saw his yearning. Nyra really hoped she wasn’t hallucinating because if this male was yearning for her, then. . . this was probably the right time to faint. 

Why hadn’t she fainted yet? 

She’d been looking at Azriel’s unreasonably attractive face for this long. Surely, she should’ve fainted by now. Meanwhile, the shadows enveloped them and brought them to another room.

Azriel placed a gentle palm on her cheek. He was close. So close that another breath could lead to a kiss. “Will you be fine?” 

“Yes.” Nyra felt like she would’ve said yes to anything at that moment. This was maddening. Azriel was looking at her lips now. 

“What’s happening?” Nyra whispered.

“Whatever you’d like.” He looked her in the eye.

“You’ll be late.” The implication that he’d be late because he’d be occupied with her did not escape either of them. What they’d be doing to be occupied remained undecided.

“I’m not. . .” She trailed away and then kissed the corner of his mouth. “That’s all I’m brave enough to do.” She looked at his chest where her nails were sort of scratching on his leathers. 

Azriel leaned in, consumed by his own desire and Nyra’s, their eyes fluttering close, and then he stopped. “Not now.” 

Nyra looked up at him, eyes narrowed and irritation flashing in them. 

Azriel laughed lightly and grabbed her waist. “Do you feel this?” He pushed his hips against hers, eliciting a delicious gasp. “If I start, I will make us both finish.” 

Nyra scowled. “Since you have a grand total of zero intentions of doing anything, go.” 

“Must you be so adorable?” Azriel rubbed his nose against hers. 

“Must you be so annoying?” Nyra shot back. Azriel thrust his hips against hers, nearly going mad when she gasped against his lips. His cock was enjoying the friction far too much and ached for clothes to be discarded.

“Are you actually going to this meeting?” She did not sound like she wanted him to go. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Yes, yes, yes, yes. And even when he asked the question, he knew that she wanted him to stay. 

“There’s a war, Azriel.” Her mood dampened and so did his. It was a brutal reminder that things were too dangerous. 

Azriel stepped back and extended a hand. She gave him her left hand, her dominant hand, and he kissed the back of it. “I’ll be back.” 

The pair of them stepped out of the room to meet a very smug lot of busybodies. 

“We will talk.” Nesta gave her a secret smile.

“No, we will not.” Nyra retorted. 

“Anyway,” She looked at the smirking High Lord and his entourage. “All the very best to you nosy lot.” She looked at Nesta. “And if you sense that thing. . . right.” 

Nesta nodded impassively. Nyra saw Elain and her teasing smile and the older sister blanched because Nesta was going away for now but Elain would be here and she could be relentless when she wanted to be. “And stop smirking, Azriel.” 

“You’re not even looking at me.” The shadowsinger spoke. 

“I don’t have to.” Nyra then looked at him pointedly to see him shake his head with a close-eyed smile. 

“Brother dearest.” Rhysand flung an arm over Azriel’s shoulder and from where he stood, the Spymaster disappeared into the shadows to reach ahead at the Dawn Court. Rhys nearly fell before retaining his balance and eventually, his posture. And the company departed for Dawn.

****

What did he even expect when Eris had the ability to speak, Beron continued to exist, and Tamlin—Mother knew how much of that High Priestess’s insolence had rubbed off on him. 

Azriel knew his family could feel his irritation. A few of his shadows were with Nyra but that didn’t make up for him not being there with her. 

When Nesta felt something was wrong, the three Illyrians scouted for danger. They were in the House of Wind to check in on Elain and Nyra and found both sisters together. Both sisters were sitting on the floor with Elain holding Nyra’s cheeks and worrying.  

“Something is wrong.” Elain looked at Rhys. “I can feel it but Nyra is. . .”

“Allow me to help you.” Rhysand sat down with her and tried to enter Nyra’s mind only to be thwarted by a storm. The High Lord looked at the shadowsinger who was already sitting next to Nyra. “Can you reach her?”

Azriel focused on the bond, on that blessing that tied his rotten self to this wonderful person. Please. Nyra. Come back. 

“The Cauldron.” She whispered. Azriel watched her closely, wondering if he had been successful in reaching her. Nyra turned to him, her eyes still brightly gleaming. “It will break soon. There’s so much pain.” 

Her eyes returned to their original blue. “Az.” She gasped. He immediately gathered her in his arms. “It’s too wrong. The balance is at stake.” 

“Nyra?” Rhysand called and she turned to him. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

“I. . . I think the Cauldron was calling for help.”

“Tell us everything.” Cassian had sat down on Elain’s other side. 

“They’re trying to break something.” Nyra said. “Using the Cauldron.”

“The boundary will shatter.” Elain spoke, her eyes now white. “Gods will rise. The mirror will awaken the Sovereign and the Slayer-” Elain stopped abruptly to shut her ears. “No, no, no, no.” And she kept chanting. 

“Elain, please let me in. I can help you.” Rhysand touched her shoulder. And they waited and watched as Rhysand help Elain calm down. She was now unconscious and a wave of night carried her to the bed. 

They turned to Nyra who was looking at Elain. 

“I’m staying.” Azriel spoke, his voice allowing no argument. 

“All right.” Rhysand. “Come to Dawn tomorrow.” The shadowsinger glared at him. “If things are better here.” The High Lord quickly added. Azriel did not deign to reply as he focused on Nyra. 

“All right.” Nyra looked at the General. “How is she?” 

“Physically, she’s fine but I think whatever she felt, it disturbed her.” Cassian himself seemed disturbed. Rhysand patted Nyra’s head and so did Cassian before the two headed for the balcony leaving Azriel, Nyra, and an unconscious Elain in the same room. 

“You could’ve left.” Nyra spoke as she continued to watch Elain. She waved her hand in front of her, lightning crackling at her fingertips as she cast a shield on Elain’s malnourished frame. 

She looked at Azriel and gestured with her head towards the door. They exited and found themselves in front of the door to Nyra’s room.

“I’m worried.” He watched her as she got lost in thought. He touched her shoulder and made her look at him. “Let’s have dinner.” She nodded and followed him. 

Neither of them paid much attention to the food or to anything else. They also did not mind as they entered her room, as she changed into her nightdress, and as Azriel removed his shirt. They quietly laid down, and chastely embraced each other, and fell asleep sharing an intimacy that calmed each other. 

****

“How did you even meet him?” Feyre whispered to Elain. All four Archerons, Azriel, Morrigan, and Rhysand waited as the gates to Lord Nolan’s prison-like estate opened.

“At a ball—his father’s ball.” 

“I’ve been to funerals that were merrier.” Nesta muttered, not caring if she was offending anyone.

“This house has needed a woman’s touch for years.” Elain sharply looked at Nesta before facing ahead. Behind her, both Feyre and Nesta looked at Nyra as if to ask how Nyra even approved of this match. The lightning wielder looked at them, raised her hands in surrender.

The stench of fear and disgust was overwhelming as the fae were escorted to the guardhouse. Nesta readied herself to control her temper and to let go if Graysen so much as breathed wrongly. Nyra remained observant and Feyre stood by her side. 

Do you think Nesta will kill him? Feyre asked, worrying about the consequences of harming humans. 

Probably. Nyra replied, looking around as they entered. 

And what type of person is Lord Nolan?

I might kill him. Feyre let surprise overtake her features for a single second before schooling them. She clutched Nyra’s arm in worry and in an attempt to restrain. 

Graysen entered and looked at Elain earnestly. His father certainly intimidated Elain enough for her stutter. Nesta took over, revealing the news about the wall and the Cauldron. Introductions were made by Feyre and Elain finally braved herself to make her request. Unfortunately, things escalated. 

“I have it on good authority that it was Elain Archeron who was turned fae first. And who now has a High Lord’s son as a mate.” 

Feyre felt Nyra’s calm fury as Lord Nolan said those words. She’d never been once afraid of her older sister. Her sweet older sister who never denied her a story to put her to sleep and keep away the nightmares. 

Nyra who continued to remind Feyre what it meant to have a human heart even though she knew that her older sister had lost her own many years ago. Nyra whose words carried her for all of her human life so she could finally find her own will. 

Wasn’t he the one who hurt Azriel in Hybern? Nyra was too calm as she asked. Feyre remembered that she had shown Nyra everything that happened in Hybern and now she was worried.

Yes. Feyre’s reply was followed by the roar of thunder. 

Feyre held her older sister by the arm and drew circles on the back of her hand because the rainstorm that had just begun was proof that Nyra was not as calm as her expression portrayed her to be. The High Lady held her sister long enough for Jurian’s side of the story to be heard. Azriel had vanished into the shadows to update Cassian.

We may have to get this problematic creature away from here. Nesta’s voice entered Feyre and Rhysand’s minds.

Jurian?  Rhysand asked. 

Nyra has recognised him as the one who hurt Azriel. Feyre clarified. 

She’ll fry him like a fish. Nesta did not sound worried. 

That explains the rainstorm. Rhysand sighed. Two idiots who don’t even realise their feelings for each other. He remembered the sadist Azriel could be while torturing people. He thought he’d seen the worst and the last of it when the shadowsinger tortured his half-brothers but clearly that wasn’t the case. The raven who’d touched Nyra was still in the dungeons, screaming to be killed. And for the first time, he’d seen the shadows actively torture someone. 

And- Their attention was drawn to Elain and Graysen arguing over the engagement ring. 

“Take. It. Off!” For a human surrounded by fae of such power, his audacity to shout was shocking. Things were about to get ugly. Graysen ignored his father’s warning and moved forward. 

“Take it off!” Graysen roared. Lightning struck the land right outside. Lord Nolan rushed over to the window to see the stables broken and burning despite the sudden rain. Graysen’s gaze followed his father. 

Lightning crackled inside the room, playing with the hands of one fae who had remained utterly calm. Till now. “You will mind your tone when you speak to my family.” 

Nyra tapped Feyre’s hands and the youngest let go of her sister. “You will grant sanctuary to any human who reaches here. And you will shut your mouth and do as I say lest you’d prefer that I eradicate everything in the vicinity.”

“You wouldn’t.” Graysen put on a facade of false bravery. 

“Or would I?” Nyra challenged and the human lordling couldn’t meet it as he looked at the lightning crackling at her fingertips.

And before Graysen could say anything, Lord Nolan grabbed him by the arm and dragged him across the room. “Get your faerie people out of here.” 

“Father, you cannot simply-”

“Listen to me well, boy. Whether she’s human or fae is irrelevant—you do not mess with Nyra Archeron.” Lord Nolan was supposedly whispering but the fae could hear it clearly with their hearing. 

The father roughly let go of his son and the latter turned to Elain. “I am not marrying you. Our engagement is over. I will take whatever people occupy your lands. But not you. Never you.” 

And before the insolent reptile could say anything to break Elain’s heart further, Nesta smacked him across the face. The fae departed upon Nesta’s declaration to do so and Nyra spared Jurian a withering glance. Jurian met her gaze and bowed his head. “Greetings to you, Conqueror of the Cauldron.”

****

When the war began, Nyra resolved to look after Elain who was having more nightmares. It was quiet between them and Elain’s visions were showing her all sorts of things. Some were calming, some were outright terrifying. And Nyra quietly absorbed Elain’s exhaustion. 

The end of the first battle came with a plan to glamour soldiers. Nyra simply tapped Feyre’s forehead and granted her access to her power. “Don’t overdo it. It might harm you.” 

And they watched the end of it as Cassian was cornered and he continued to fight valiantly. As Azriel in a cloud of shadows and blue lights fought to reach his brothers. As Nyra worried for the two of them, a flash of her power found its way to the shadowsinger. The sisters watched as Azriel slammed his fist on the ground, releasing a blast of lightning in the surrounding area. 

****

Nyra felt the wrongness of this dream. Thunder collapsed as she woke up. She looked around and found Nesta on her bed but Elain?

She threw away her blankets and took her robe. Elain was not on her bed. Or anywhere in sight. Nyra exited the tent and looked around. Everything seemed fine. 

Her eyes glowed and she found the trail of Elain’s golden magic. Without another thought, Nyra followed it. 

Nyra quietened. Mud and twigs and dirt and leaves clung to the hem of her nightdress and robe by the time she reached the enemy’s camp where Elain’s trail led her to. 

Nyra observed the rotations of the guards patrolling, timed them, waited for the opportunity, and snuck in. She followed the trail cautiously and reached a tent with a table, Elain, and the ghastly Cauldron. Wispy smokes emanated from it, taunting her. 

Once she’d helped Elain stand up straight, the younger sister began ranting about someone else. “There’s a child. A human.” Elain spoke between her sobs, eyes white. “She’s here. . . and she’s so young. We can’t leave her here.” 

Nyra hesitated. It was one thing that Elain was kidnapped. She didn’t even know how they were going to return. She exhaled, giving up on trying to convince Elain to worry about herself before others. 

“Where’s she?” Elain led her to an altar. One look and Nyra realised that Elain had not thought of how this girl was to be saved. 

The girl was human and tied to a wooden pole on the altar. Those surrounding the altar were playing cards and discussing how they would ‘take’ the girl. 

Rage swirled within her and the first clap of lightning struck the nearest group. Nyra stood tall, lightning crackling all over her body. The next group of people were examining the remains of those who had been charred and she moved in a flash of lightning. 

A flash of light was all that any of them saw before they dropped dead, vital organs severed from their bodies. After the massacre, the girl’s cries stopped. Nyra looked at her and stepped on the altar. Elain followed and began helping her. “We’ll get you out of here.” 

Nyra looked up at the sky and closed her eyes, consumed by the power she now wielded freely. Rain poured gently over the land. Lightning fractured the sky and thunder echoed around the world. 

A tingle passed through them and the next thing they knew, they were in the camp with the Inner Circle at a distance, with Rhysand and Azriel facing each other, the former’s authority weak against the latter’s unfiltered wrath. 

The sudden thrum of power in the air caught their attention and they turned and saw the three females. 

“Feyre!” Elain cried. The human girl had fainted in her arms. Feyre looked at Elain and Nyra, horrified at the sight. 

The lightning wielder looked at her blood-coated hands. With her hands, she’d taken lives. She’d massacred them. Her rage was a ferocious beast—waiting for the opportune moment to strike. And it had. She’d been possessed by something so vicious and it was an entirely familiar feeling. 

“Nyra.” Nesta called her but Nyra couldn’t look her in the eye. She was unworthy. But then she felt hands on her own. The blood was now on Nesta’s hands. 

Nyra’s eyes were hot and wet with tears and as much as she clenched her jaw and bit her lip, she wanted to scream. She had killed, killed, and it wasn’t the first time but some part of her was lost. And something vile had taken its place. 

Lightning was a frightening element but it was hers—the element that now bowed to her. The element and everything beyond.

Death embraced her twin, and the skies roared throughout the night, renouncing any sense of tranquillity. And Nyra mourned for herself in Nesta’s arms.

****

The final battle in the mortal lands felt a little personal. Maybe because she was once human. 

A few of Azriel’s shadows were with her, helping her with mundane tasks, bringing Elain and the Truth Teller upon her request for a distraction. 

When Elain stabbed the king’s neck, the twins moved. A hand wrapped in lightning ripped away the king’s arm, freeing their father, and the shadows whisked him away. 

The king’s corpse fell and three Archerons towered over it. 

The inky black surface of the Cauldron had started cracking, not letting Feyre move away and with Amren inside. A bird of light and fire emerged, draining more of the Cauldron’s power. 

Nyra reached the Cauldron in a flash of lightning and placed a hand on it. Her eyes glowed blue. Nesta and Elain had joined her, their eyes now silver and white. Feyre could now let go of the Cauldron and she watched her sisters let their power flow to fix it. 

But what Feyre thought was not what was happening. The Cauldron cracked further and a white light emanated from the cracks seeming as if lightning adorned the artefact. And then, it broke. 

Feyre was soon joined by her mate, the other High Lords, and everyone else when the battle was finally over. 

Her sisters pushed in a wave of power to contain the essence. The cracked pieces of the Cauldron rose into the air and above them. It came together, melted like iron in fire, and took shape. 

A brand new Cauldron was formed with legs and carvings. 

Three hands gathered the essence from the old Cauldron and poured it inside the new one.

And when the power subsided and the Cauldron was settled, the Sovereign of the Skies, the Slayer of the King, and the Seer of the Stars remained. 

****

TAGLIST:

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @impossibelle @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @judig92 @bunnyredgirl @sh4nn @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kattzillaa @ronnieglennn @wallacewillow0773638 @forgiveliv @justdreamstars @donttellthecats @cat-or-kitten @jojodojo02 @wandas-dream @evylynny @weasleyreidstyles @stqrgirlies-blog @why4anne @acourtofdreamsandshadows @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @macimads @footyandformula @noelli-smv @mqlfoyelf @thehighlordishere @slytherintaco @spideytingley @deeshag @footyandformula @nebarious @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @5onedirection5 @hanitastic @sevikas-whore @krowiathemythologynerd @myladysapphire @freyagallileaevans @azrielrot @rcarbo1 @i-am-infinite @latinxbipride @moni-cah @fantanbietsson @julsgrace @angel-graces-world-of-chaos

[spideytingley]

my april fic recs!

percy jackson & the olympians

luke castellan

true luck’s kiss by @atlabeth

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

twin beads by @supercutszns

summary: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder.

ACOTAR

azriel

a healer’s touch by @bat-boys

summary: as a healer you meet many people as part of your profession but when you are asked to heal a certain spymaster you are unprepared for the connection that comes with it.

eye of the storm (series) by @thesunloveschips

summary: Nyra is one of the older Archeron sisters. Twin to Nesta. Plagued by a mysterious illness that her mortal body cannot endure for too long. And yet, it seems her curse is to see her family suffer. When the youngest of her sisters is whisked away into the land of fae, immortality soon follows for the rest of them. And as an immortal, there is more to her that she has yet to know.

missed target by @imaginesmai

summary: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.

if it all fell by @pellucid-constellations

summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

notice me! by @heartless-tate

summary: Azriel courting an oblivious reader.

love of choice by @writingcroissant

summary: The Cauldron doesn’t always pick wisely when it comes to mates, but even though Azriel isn’t hers, she chooses him.

bluebird (series) by @acourtofwhatthefuck

let me keep you company by @utterlyazriel

summary: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

strings that bind us by @parkerslatte

summary: Y/N owns a small bookstore in Velaris. When she struggles to take her stock in, a handsome stranger approaches her and offers her help. She accepts the help and Y/N insists on making him dinner for his help. Azriel originally denies this but he finds himself eventually saying yes for reasons he doesn’t understand quite yet.

wings by @itsswritten

summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

you don’t get to tell me about sad by @bubbles-for-all-of-us

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

marvel

bucky barnes

always you, forever by @pellucid-constellations

summary: Bucky wants to take you away from it all. This time, you might just let him. 

dc

clark kent

handyman by @itsrubberbisquit

summary: Clark has been smitten with his accident-prone neighbor for quite some time. She tracks him down to make a familiar request with an unusual ending.

jason todd

four times red hood blushed because of you, and one time jason todd blushed by @mxtantrights

grishaverse

nikolai lanstov

this is me trying by @criminalamnesia

summary: the last time you saw Nikolai, he told you he never wanted to see you again. now, you’re standing outside his door.

dancing with our hands tied by @criminalamnesia

summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings