#yes that is a younger fall Maiden

[suzannahnatters]

Let's talk about what IMO The Rings of Power gets RIGHT about Galadriel as an interpretation of Tolkien & a female character.

I think Galadriel is an inspired choice for a major protagonist of the series. Audiences already know her, yes. But she's also a perfect choice if you're wanting to make a Tolkien fantasy fanfic in the 21st century - which does expect prominent female characters (thank goodness).

This is because Tolkien's Galadriel contains multitudes. The important thing to know about Galadriel is that she was at different times in the legendarium's creation BOTH a rebellious mess AND a wise queen.

It was only towards the end of his life, when Tolkien began to see Galadriel as an analogous figure in his world to the Virgin Mary, that he began to remove the traces of rebelliousness from her backstory. But originally she was up to her neck in a little event called "the Kinslaying."

The version of Galadriel we see in THE LORD OF THE RINGS is one who has been specifically banished from Valinor for her part in rebelling against the Valar in order to go to Middle Earth. She sings a whole song about how sad she is she's never been allowed to go back:

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew: Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew. Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea, And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree. Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone, In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion. There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years, While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears. O Lórien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Day; The leaves are falling in the stream, the river flows away. O Lórien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor. But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me, What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?

By the end of LOTR, that exile sentence has been revoked, probably in part because she resisted the temptation of the Ring when Frodo offered it. What we're seeing through Frodo's uncomprehending eyes in THE MIRROR OF GALADRIEL is the end of a REALLY REALLY long character arc.

In Tolkien's published work, Galadriel the wise queen wasn't born, she was made over many centuries of rebellion, temptation, and struggle. She had to learn.

Until Tolkien changed her. A flat arc is also valid, of course. But, for this character, the change arc is equally valid.

In TROP, beginning with a younger, more rebellious Galadriel seems to be a clear artistic decision to follow a change arc. I LOVE, BTW, that in the first ep we see her both in armour AND in beautiful dresses. This character is not going to fit easily into boxes.

Just like she does in Tolkien, TROP Galadriel contains the potential both to be Nerwen, the "man-maiden" and Galadriel the wise queen. TROP Galadriel doesn't seem to be under a sentence of exile, but she DOES start the series with a stated inner struggle.

I'm not going to spoil it for you, but I'm so excited to see where this goes. This is a young, angry, sword wielding Galadriel who is clearly at the start of what could be an epic character arc that refuses to put its protagonist into a tidy little tradwife/rebel binary.

[joyful-enchantress]

Jól Never Be Alone | Loki x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: Hello! Enjoy this festive oneshot that I wrote as a gift for @smolvenger for this Secret Santa event facilitated by @fictive-sl0th. I took inspiration from a request submitted by @smolvenger and also from the Old Norse jól (pronounced yule), a midwinter festival which celebrated the passing of the longest days of winter, and fertility in the coming year. Happy Holidays!

Genre/Warnings: Arranged marriage, mild angst in the beginning (with a happy ending, I promise!), hurt/comfort, fluff, thirst, pining, smutty thoughts, language

Word Count: 3k

Three damn days.

That’s it. That’s all the time you had to pull yourself together.

To clean up the mess that you’d become these past weeks and be what the people of Asgard expected you to be. Needed you to be.

The shining star of the upcoming jól feast. You were to be the gem of the midwinter celebration as their newest princess.

That is, after all, what you were. You were married into the Asgardian royal family just over a month ago, joined in holy matrimony with Odin’s youngest son. The dark prince. Loki. A man — no, a god — that, for centuries now, had maidens everywhere falling over themselves just for the chance to spend a night warming his bed. How lucky you were to be his wife, right?

Though it wasn’t exactly a love match. Your marriage had been arranged by those that claimed more of a say in your lives than either of you did. Loki’s father and your own had devised a scheme — years in the making — in which you’d become Loki’s wife to strengthen the alliance between Asgard and your home realm, Vanaheim.

Yes, unfortunately, your love story felt less like a romance and more like a political drama.

It certainly didn't help that Loki has been cold and distant since the betrothal. He was always keeping to his own side of your shared living quarters, the physical walls between you serving as a constant reminder of the figurative one that loomed —towering and unsurmountable — between you. Short, clipped greetings are all that fell from his lips to welcome or acknowledge you when your paths did cross. Roommates with fancy titles... that's all you were. The dark, handsome prince, your husband, was never disrespectful — far from it, actually — but he never showed any true interest in you beyond what has been required during public appearances.

You couldn't blame him, not really. This couldn't possibly be what he had hoped for, when he would daydream about his own future. Trapped in a loveless marriage with you, likely feeling like little more than a pawn in his father's political chess games. No, it was no wonder why he kept his distance as much as the nature of your entanglement allowed.

There was a time, not so long ago, when you had allowed yourself to dream of a future where you sat beside Loki, as his wife. But not this way. Not like this.

Since childhood, you'd had a crush on the younger prince. Once you were old enough to accompany your father on his delegations to Asgard, where he'd speak on behalf of the Vanir at the council meetings, he was sure to bring you along. In hindsight, you realized, he only brought you with him so that you could become acquainted with Asgard before he secured your place there, within the royal court. But oh, how you looked forward to those trips! And a certain mischievous god was to blame...

Loki caught your eye the very first time you met him. How could he not? With those sharp cheekbones and chiseled jaw that you swore were sharp enough to slice through your dignity. The silky curtains of raven curls that framed his stupidly handsome face, always looking absolutely perfect, no matter how unkempt and mussed they were. Then there were his eyes, glistening like two polished emeralds against the alabaster planes of his face. You had frequently wondered what it might be like to lock eyes with him during the throes of a passionate night of lovemaking... meeting his gaze as you're writhing in the sheets underneath his lean, sculpted body, appreciating the length of him — of his neck, his limbs, his cock as he buries himself inside you.

Perhaps it was foolish, but you spent those years pining for him from afar, dreaming of what could possibly be someday. Sure, you spent time with him during your visits, enjoying strolls together through the gardens or his personal library, sharing details of your lives and bonding over your joint love of books. He definitely wasn't a stranger to you. In fact, you’d say you knew him well. But you never made your romantic feelings for him known; you never hinted at the desire that scorched through your veins like an untamed fire every time he was near.

You'd tell him someday, you'd tell yourself. You would tell Loki your feelings and with any luck he'd be yours... and it was that thought, that hope, that fueled your daydreams and pushed you through until your next visit to Asgard.

But before you ever got the chance to share the true nature of your feelings with Loki, you were both called into the throne room where your fathers informed you of the arrangements that had been made. You were to be married. In three fortnights.

And your dreams of a fairytale romance with the handsome prince were thwarted in an instant. You wanted him, but not like this. You wanted something real... you wanted Loki to want you.

Now you were homesick and, during a time when you should be feeling surrounded by love and holiday cheer, you had never felt more alone.

Jól was in three days. And the midwinter festival was supposed to be magnificent — a giant feast honoring the gods Odin and Freyr and celebrating a hope for peace, sunshine, and fertility in the coming year. Your place of honor at the celebrations was especially anticipated, not only because you were Asgard's newest princess, but because you were from Vanaheim — you were Vanir, same as Freyr. And, you were one of his descendants; his granddaughter, in fact. Yes — Loki was Odin’s son and you were Freyr’s granddaughter. Your union was a jóltide dream. The people of Asgard were abuzz with excitement, chattering about how special this year’s festivities would be… thanks to you.

You and Loki had been seen in public before, of course. You had endured your wedding and the celebrations that followed and managed fairly well. But that was a formal affair; beyond a few pecks on the lips throughout the day's festivities, you could go through the motions with little more than the occasional formal dance required, as far as physical contact.

The expectations at the jól festival were entirely different. It was to be a wild and sensual affair, with you and Loki performing a dance as the centerpiece of the fertility celebrations. This dance... the sensuality was not something that could easily be fabricated. You couldn't just go through the motions. The two of you would be chest to chest, eyes locked in a passionate stare, hands roaming and exploring each other's bodies. Your performance was meant to inspire not only yourselves, but all in attendance to go forth from the feast and be fruitful.

The thought twisted your stomach in knots and made your heart ache. How were you supposed to make it convincing? And if you did give in to the burning desire you had for Loki to put on the show that the people of Asgard were expecting, how were you supposed to protect your heart? Knowing that it wasn't the same for Loki; it wasn't real for him, too...

You had been training for this dance with an instructor for two weeks now, learning the basic steps. Having grown up in the royal court here, Loki was already familiar with the dance, so he didn't require the same training. But now it was time for rehearsals to begin. With only three days until the festival, you had to practice the dance with your actual performance partner... with Loki. You had to get a feel for each other during the dance; see where it felt natural to add in those caresses of your nose on his cheek, his fans of hot breath on your neck, the wandering touches on each other's bodies that linger just a whisper too long...

And your first rehearsal was in two hours.

You needed to get some air.

As you step outside, the frigid air engulfs you and steals your breath away. It’s a welcome feeling — a cleansing feeling. And it’s exactly what you need to clear your head and collect yourself before this dreaded rehearsal. You make a beeline for the palace gardens without much of a thought, your usual walking route essentially muscle memory at this point.

Your footsteps were nearly silent on the fresh-fallen snow that blanketed the path beneath your feet as you strolled throughout the garden, admiring the pops of color provided by the hardy winter flowers and berries that were currently growing there. As you approached the crocuses, you stopped to appreciate their bright purple blooms and the way the snow clung to the delicate petals.

Despite the harshness of the current environment, the flowers were thriving, refusing to let the cold and the ice dampen their beauty and light. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you resolved to do the same. You wouldn’t let your situation dampen your own light any longer.

“Darling…?” A familiar voice sounded from just behind you, seemingly out of nowhere. The snow must have muffled the sound of Loki’s approach.

What was he doing here?

“Oh, hello, Loki! You startled me; I didn’t expect to run into you out here.”

You quickly made to wipe the tear from your cheek as you turned to face him, but you weren’t quite fast enough; nothing got past Loki’s sharp gaze.

“So sorry to alarm you, I just came to the garden for some calm and quiet. The bustling in the palace as everyone prepares for the festival can get overwhelming.” He paused for just a moment, his brow creasing ever so slightly as if considering whether to continue before asking, “Is there anything troubling you, Y/N?”

Yes. So many things, you have no idea.

“I’m alright, Loki. I… I think the frigid air is just making my eyes water.” You managed a weak smile as you lied to your husband.

His eyes softened at your words; they beheld more warmth than you’d seen from him since before your forced betrothal.

“You know, Y/N… I know this hasn’t been easy. On either of us. But it doesn’t have to be this way between us forever. You don’t have to hide your feelings from me just because you don’t… just because we’re not…”

He struggled to find the right words to finish the sentence, but the implication was a shard of ice to your heart.

“What I’m trying to say is that you can talk to me. Ours may not be a marriage of love, but it still is a partnership. I can tell that something is wrong, that something has been wrong since our fathers broke the news of our arrangement to us. It was like, at that very moment, the light inside you was snuffed out. The woman that walked out of the throne room that day was not the same woman that entered. You’ve been a shell of yourself ever since you learned that you’d been sentenced to spend your life with me. And I’ve tried to give you space… to give you time. I didn’t want to pressure you, or suffocate you, so I’ve kept my distance. Waiting for you to be ready to speak to me again; perhaps even to spend time together again, enjoying our shared interests. But it has been more than 10 weeks now and I don’t think I can wait any longer, darling. Talk to me, please. I… I miss what we were before that day in the throne room.”

You blinked at him, flabbergasted. At a loss for words.

Set aside the sheer wonder of the sight before you: the tall frame, hung with lean muscles that strained against the fabric of the emerald tunic he was wearing. A note of gratitude crossed your mind that his Jotun ancestry allowed him to forgo any bulky outerwear to protect him from the elements, so you could enjoy this view, unobstructed. Even the way the snow clung to his dark, luscious locks and reflected the garden lights like a glittering crown had him looking every bit the winter king.

This man — this god — missed you. He mistook your heartbreak for… disgust.

As if you could ever find any part of him disgusting.

“Loki, I…” Your eyes darted frantically, looking everywhere but at him. Searching the winter blooms, the snow-covered tree branches, the festive garden decorations for a sign… for a whisper of encouragement. A murmur of reassurance. Was this it? Was this your moment?

When you finally met his gaze again, you saw nothing there but patience. Kindness. But also… longing?

“I love you.” You blurted it out, pushing the words from your lips before you could change your mind.

Your heart was pounding loudly in your ears; you actually said it. Nervousness enveloped your body like fresh steam, causing you to sweat despite the cold temperature.

“You…what?”

To say he was taken aback would be an understatement. It was clearly the last thing he expected you to say.

“I love you, Loki. I have for a while now.”

“Then why —?”

“Because I was heartbroken. Shattered. You’re right, Loki, the light inside me was snuffed out that day. Extinguished in an instant. But not because I was appalled or disgusted at the thought of spending forever with you. On the contrary, I had been dreaming of that very notion for years…”

You saw his eyes widen and his breath hitch before you continued.

“The light went out because I lost the hope that carried me forward; I never got to tell you how I truly felt about you — how much I cared about you…how much I wanted you.”

His eyes darkened almost imperceptibly at hearing you confess your desire for him.

You swallowed your own budding lust and pushed forward. “And so the delicate and, perhaps, foolish hope that we might have something real someday crumbled. Then, when I saw how much you withdrew from me, I… I was sure you had no interest in me. And that broke my heart even further, Loki, to know that you didn’t feel the same way about me and yet, we were trapped together in this marriage. I’ve never felt more alone than I have these past 10 weeks.”

“Darling…” he sighed as he closed the distance between you, reaching out his fingertips to softly caress the side of your face before brushing them under your chin and tilting your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze.

The small gesture stole your breath away. It was the first physical contact you had with Loki since the wedding, and certainly more intimate than any touches you had ever shared. This wasn’t a public appearance; there was no audience. There was only him. And you. And the hammering of your heart.

“It appears that we have both been foolish.” A smile slowly crept across his lips as he muttered, “a pair of hopeless, lovesick fools.”

By now the smile had wholly taken root and a full grin had bloomed on his face, casting a light there that you hadn’t seen in months.

Oh, how you missed that smile.

“Loki…” you gasped. “Are — are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I love you too, wife.”

You couldn’t think straight. You could barely breathe. You had to be dreaming.

Loki could tell that words were beyond you, so he just continued.

“I’ve adored you for years, Y/N. Admired you in secret like an adolescent with an unattainable crush. Because that’s what you were to me: unattainable.”

“Loki, you’re a prince, a literal god… you’ve had a horde of maidens throwing themselves at you for as long as I’ve known you. If one of us was unattainable, it was you.”

“They were only ever interested in my body, in my array of talents between the sheets.”

A warm flood of arousal washed over you, hearing him talk so casually about his own sexual prowess.

“But you, darling… you saw me. You showed interest in my mind, my ideas, my company. You asked me thoughtful questions and you actually listened when I would answer them. I was so convinced that I didn’t deserve someone like that. Someone like you. And so I kept my feelings hidden.”

“Well…” you began with a shy smirk, “I am interested in your body and your carnal talents too, you know.”

“And I don’t know if there’s anything that could delight me more than learning that about you tonight,” he said with a mischievous smile and lust-darkened eyes that lingered on your lips before darting back to your own hooded gaze.

“Kiss me, Loki, please…” you breathed.

Without hesitation, he leaned down toward you, brushing his lips against your own. Featherlight at first, but soon growing more assured and confident, claiming your lips as his. And you were more than willing to let him stake his claim.

When he finally broke the kiss, you opened your eyes to see him staring down at you reverently.

“I love you, my darling wife. And as long as my heart is beating, I promise you’ll never be alone; you’ll never feel alone again. Perhaps things in our relationship have occurred… somewhat out of the preferred order, but by some generous twist of the fates, we’ve been thrust into each other’s arms and allowed to spend the rest of our lives with our one true love.”

Your heart swelled as you stared up at him. You felt that light within you reignite, shining brighter than it ever had.

“I love you too, husband. With my whole heart.”

He bent down and claimed your mouth once again, his tongue sliding against your lips, which you happily parted to allow him entry. All of the love and desire that you’d both been harboring all these years was finally unleashed and it was conveyed in the intensity of your kiss, and in the way his hands now began to explore your body. At least, as best as they could, over the coat you were wearing.

Suddenly, you found yourself looking forward to rehearsal.

And to the jól festival.

And to the rest of your life with Loki.

Below is the request I received from @smolvenger - I hope I did it justice, my lovely! Happiest Holidays! 🎄

Secret Santa 2023 Taglist 🏷️ @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

[lizdive]

I was thinking of older sister violet_evergarden!reader who is also a stoneheart x aventurine. I'd like to see how they interact since canonically, violet sees herself as nothing more than a weapon and will do whatever she has to do, to protect the person she cares for. Aka aventurine. I can also sorta see her either being an emanator of preservation or one the stronger stonehearts.

Hi anon :3 !! I love aventurine with my whole heart he’s just so squishy 😞 i had to go to the violet evergarden wiki for this one bcs i’ve never watched the anime so i’m sorry if stuff isn’t accurate this was kinda of difficult for me,, tysm for requesting <3 if you’re unsatisfied just tell me and i’ll redo it!!

notes 𐙚 fem! reader — "you" + "she/her" used to refer to the reader ,, reader as an older sibling ,, reader is based off of violet evergarden from violet evergarden anime ,, reader is an emanator of preservation but it isn’t mentioned much ,, reader is a stoneheart ,, aventurine is referred to as both "kakavasha" and "aventurine" ,, corundum’s are a type of gemstone that is ranked 9 on the toughness scale ,, of course you can change this to the stone of your desire !! this isn’t proofread ignore typos,,

"The hammer of preservation will fall on all beings, regardless of life or death, regardless of race, regardless of ideology, to uphold the basic rights we inherently posses."

The Rising Stars, the Stonehearts, the Gambler and the Soldier Maiden — all nicknames for two siblings who have seen it all. A handsome aventurine and a beautiful corundum. One blessed by HER, and another blessed by THEM.

To be an Emanator is to be seen as a piece of an Aeon — their will so strong that their abilities have been gifted to them by the Aeon. To be an Emanator in the IPC is to be seen as an asset that cannot be lost. And to be an Emanator of Preservation is to be seen as the biggest tool.

With THEIR blessing you have overcome all that life has thrown at you just for the sake of keeping your beloved brother save from harm. From the moment he was brought into this sad world, you have fought to protect him and your younger sister.

Only one of the two made it out alive.

Many people would call you a murderer, and while they technically aren’t wrong, they fail to see why you do it. Or perhaps they do not care. You killed and therefore you should be sent to your own death.

You remember the day when you and your brother were taken by the IPC. A woman clad in luxury, a smirk on her face, and her tone breathy and warm. "As a servant you should not resist your master." she had said, but you did not pay attention for her.

KAKAVASHA did most of the speaking for you. He was free to go — he had no blood on his hands. You were the one to be sent to the gallows. But you couldn’t and wouldn’t. Death was not an option. It never was and never would be until KAKAVASHA lets out his final breath from old age.

You didn’t see what was wrong — you never did. Yes, you killed the man and many more, but it was self defense. KAKAVASHA and you had always lived in a world where it was kill or be killed. Remorse was foreign to you.

And then came the offer. Join the IPC. Join the corporation that was the reason your kind fell and vanished off the map. Become the same as them. You could not care less. Should your brother join, you will, as well. And he did.

By the end of the day you both were clad in luxuries the same as her.

⭑ Missions were always a package deal. Where AVENTURINE goes, Corundum always follows. Where Corundum goes, AVENTURINE is most likely following. There is no separating the two.

⭑ AVENTURINE is very patient with his big sister. He knows that unlike him, she is not able to properly express what she feels. He’ll try to help explain why people feel the things they feel — he’s good at putting up a mask of emotions and to do so he needed to understand them first so he’s good at explaining.

⭑ If you have prosthetic limbs like Violet does and have room for drawings and doodles, AVENTURINE will definitely doodle on your arms during free time. Even if you hide them with your sleeves, it’s a nice pass-time activity. Nobody says anything about it because 1: he is a stoneheart and 2: you’re a stoneheart.

⭑ Will try to get you to be less hyper-independent. Ask him for help, it’s okay. He’ll even try to make you a bit reliant on him. He’s not a little kid anymore, he can definitely help you take out those guys. He’s good with a gun and it’ll finish the mission quicker, just let him do some fighting too,,

⭑ I feel like there could be some heavy angst potential here, especially with the entire aventurine boss fight. You’re so determined to protect him, and you aren’t against killing people to do so. He knows this, and so he tries his damn hardest to hide his plan from you but he’s your little brother your little KAKAVASHA so you know him. You’re not the best at emotions but you know he’s lying and hiding something.

⭑ He accepts death and welcomes it with open arms but he also doesn’t want to leave his big sister alone. His big sister, who has done everything and more to protect him. She had killed, she has been wounded, she has put up with his shenanigans, and she has done the impossible. He feels like he’s just throwing that all away,,,

⭑ You are lost without him when he 'dies'. He is your purpose in life. Helping the Astral Express fight against Sunday? Screw them! You need to find your little brother, there is no way he is dead. You pray to Mother Gaiathra, to Qlipoth, to any Aeon that will hear your prayers, that he is alive.

⭑ And when you find him alive and well in the real world, alone in his room in the reverie hotel, you feel like a dam inside you has bursted. You don’t cry, but you’re close to doing so and AVENTURINE doesn’t know whether to encourage you to let out your emotions and calm your through them or reassure you that he is alright and there is no need to cry.

⭑ On a lighter note: AVENTURINE doesn’t mind if you communicate with him via letters instead of messages when you’re on your own solo missions! He’ll get you the nicest envelopes and stamps to put on them. Maybe even some stickers! He loves when you use the silly ones. If you tell him it helps you understand emotions better, he’ll encourage you to write letters more and for other people. If you use an old typewriter, he’ll get you the nicest one on the market!

⭑ It said in the wiki that Violet feels guilt for killing the people she has killed, so if you also feel that, AVENTURINE will be by your side to reassure you that it’s okay. That it wasn’t your fault and it was needed for survival. He might use the "you were just trying to protect me" card to make you feel better since he knows he’s your weakness.

⭑ Sadly, to make a pledge to never kill anyone again like Violet did would be pretty much impossible. In the eyes of the IPC, violet evergarden! reader will always be a weapon, so it’ll kinda be forced upon her.

⭑ AVENTURINE loves the anxious expressions of the people he’s gambling with as his big sister stands behind him, intimidating the patrons of the casino. It also reassures him because if anyone tries to get violent he knows his big sis will be there to protect him so he can be as reckless and as infuriating as he wants.

⭑ Overall AVENTURINE would be a very good younger brother to a violet evergarden! reader because he fulfills her wish to protect and she fulfills his want to be cherished.

[bucknastysbabe]

Ser Criston is OC Princess (Rhaenyra’s younger sister) sworn protector & is in love with her but he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help being obsessed and Rhaenyra hates it because it’s her little sister & so one night she asks Ser Criston to sneak out for a walk and they kiss & get caught by Rhaenyra idk

Hi yes I totally got carried away bc Criston has me in a chokehold rn. I hope you enjoy, I love the obsessed aspects. I also got to explore the other indications in F&B that insinuated Cole rejected Rhaenyra. Thanks for the ask🥰🥰 I don’t usually do OC’s but since it’s a Targ I mean I can only leave so much up to interpretation! But it was fun and diff

Rating: Mature

Tags: Forbidden love, unreliable narrator, Criston’s POV, oc-ish Princess reader, Sorry I made Rhae a bitch ugh, Criston’s snappy ass, Alicent is his bestie, masturbation, fantasies, dark Criston, virgin reader, clit orgasm, open ending, angst and pining galore, Religious Guilt, Harwin doing his best okay?, character study-ish, obsessive/possessive Criston

Word count: About 6k

@aemonds-holy-milk @aemonddtargaryen

Lucerra Targaryen, called Cerra, was oft said to be the spitting image of the late Queen Aemma. She retained more of her father’s demeanor, none of the resolute strength of Aemma and the fiery nature of young Rhaenyra. The fire that had entranced Criston once. He was told all of Cerra’s quirks when they made him her sworn shield.

He so much did not glance Rhaenyra’s way now, the burly Ser Harwin towering over the heir. They shared a kiss once, Criston ran, their close bond was severed. He knew down deep she coveted her uncle. It burned him, but he did his duty. The duty hanging around his shoulders like a lead weight— just cloaked in white wool. Criston found himself bewitched again.

The sweet Cerra, her gentle innocence and piousness. Something unmarred, not yet tainted by the world. The knight wondered if she was the maiden reborn, sent to test him. He prayed and prayed and confessed repeatedly to get rid of the wicked sin in his heart. Usually after touching himself.

Criston had always been weak when it came to the fairer sex. He’d fall madly in love like a boy and his first fuck. Just no fucking, more of the merest scrap of appreciation and touch had him by the vulnerable throat.

He coveted the young princess badly. Sometimes she would grab his palm when frightened, or on a walk to the Sept. Criston felt disgusting wondering how that soft hand would feel around his cock, the pale flesh clashing against ruddy. Cerra didn’t know, couldn’t know how weak he was.

Rhaenyra obviously knew of the metaphorical chink in the armor. She was becoming increasingly nosy of her sister’s doings as of late. He sourly thought to himself, ‘spoiled cunt couldn’t have me, of course she’ll make sure I part from her sweet sister.’ He frowned in annoyance at the elder’s recent interruption.

He’d merely helped her up to reach a flower in a tall bush. Certainly didn’t expect chaste Cerra to be so…close. She had wrapped her arms around his neck, startling him as she sighed, “You’re too kind Ser Criston, my white knight. What would I do without you?” She didn’t mean anything licentious, the Princess never did. Once a lordling flirted and she blushed to her ears and called for Criston to escort her away.

He preened about that for days. He’d heard the idiot boy scoff, “Stupid Dornish mutt.” Criston grinned and leaned toward the shorter lad, keeping his voice low. The princess shouldn’t hear such filth. He hissed, “This mutt would be glad to cave your fucking skull in with a Morningstar. Don’t come near the Princess ever again.” That was that. Back to his original thought.

At the moment Criston couldn’t help but sink into her soft gesture, pale white waves and lavender eyes gazing up as she laid her head on his chest. The brunette laid a chaste hand on her waist, but the moony look on his face was likely brighter than the Hightower’s beacon.

“My lady is kinder, no need to praise your sworn shield, merely doing my duty Princess.”

His cock was full to bursting at her sweet scent and wide eyes, framed by pretty lashes. Cerra closed those lavender orbs and inhaled gently, relaxing in the center of the Godswood. Criston’s hand thumbed little circles into her waist, feeling the princess relax more, leaning into his stronger frame, lips subtly parting.

“Cole! This is an unseemly position to be seen in with my sister if Larys’ spies are about,” Rhaenyra called with a smile and cocked head. Lucerra stepped back with a gasp, flush flooding her cheeks. She stammered, “R-Rhaenyra, no no, I w-was simply.”

“Simply what?”

Criston cooled his expression to state, “The princess was expressing her gratitude for me. Nothing more.”

Lucerra nodded, gesturing to the knight, cheeks still flaming and eyes downcast. She certainly wasn’t acting as if this was innocent. Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes and stepped forward to grab her sister’s hand. Casting a glare toward him she hissed, “I need her for the afternoon, you can wait outside the door.”

He stiffly nodded, anger flaring up in his chest so violently Criston feared he would yell at the heir. Instead he murmured, “Yes princess.” From a distance he trailed the two blondes, aggravated as all Seven Hells. Rhaenyra never paid attention to Cerra, especially since having her first babe. Damned bitch. Where was her loyal whore Harwin?

Waiting outside Rhaenyra’s chambers, Criston thought over her precious sister’s actions. He wondered what it would be like to touch her more. Graze over her sensitive neck, breasts, lower belly. She’d probably squeal if he suckled on a pretty tit. He inhaled sharply, catching himself on a low moan. Repentance would be in order soon.

Maybe he was being punished now— waiting outside like a mangy dog.

For hours.

Cerra came back out with a strange look, apologizing, “Sorry Ser Criston, that went longer than expected, I didn’t think my sister would want that much of the day. Shall we head to supper?”

He nodded, extending an arm forward. The princess was quiet, eyes flicking toward him a couple of times. Criston asked, “Yes princess?” Lucerra stopped on a dime and faced him, face close to tears. She warbled, “You’re not mad are you? I- I can’t deny family. Rhaenyra actually uh- helped. I was acting imprudent in the Godswood, I apologize for being wanton and brazen Ser.”

Oh. Criston blinked a couple of times. She was expressing more than mere affection? He wiped away her tear with a gloved hand, sighing, “No princess, I could never be mad at you, what’s in the past is in the past. You are anything but wanton, the picture of the maiden to me. Don’t let her scare you.”

She smiled, tipping forward on her feet some, eyes entrapping Cole easily. Then he was engulfed into a hug again. What had brought in this madness? He couldn’t complain, yet.

She breathed, “Oh, oh I was so worried you’d be mad. We should go to the sept tomorrow, yes?” The knight’s lips quirked up as he replied, “That sounds splendid my Princess, we shall go in the morn. Now let’s get you to dinner?”

She grabbed his hand again, practically skipping, chattering now about her time with ‘big sister’. Criston listened, he always did, but he needed to go jack his cock before going mad. Then wallow in guilt about it all night at the edge of Cerra’s room. She preferred him taking watch from inside her quarters. Such a frightened little lamb.

Wallow in guilt did he. While the princess slept in her grand bed, Criston couldn’t help but replay the shame in his head. As soon as he’d escorted her to dinner, he went to his quarters and stripped down heavy armor and pants. The man shuddered at the sensation of cool air hitting his achingly flushed cock.

He pictured the pristine Targaryen underneath his tanned body, writhing with pleasure. Criston spat on his hand and worked his prick, panting softly. Cerra’s doe eyes would be teary, overwhelmed with the pleasures of the flesh. She’d whine while he’d pump into her virgin cunt, “Oh, Criston, oh gods! Don’t stop!” The knight gasped and shuddered at the thought, groaning as he spilled all over his hand.

He blinked again, running a hand through his hair. Lucerra was awake, hair shining like silver under the moonlight. She spoke in a soft rasp, “Ser Cole, are you still here?” He laughed at her silly question, replying, “As always, can’t trade me out like the Cargylls.”

“Oh, good,” she pulled the covers off the bed and stretched, white nightgown pulling in the right wrong places, “I had a horrid dream. I can’t possibly go back to sleep yet.”

Criston frowned at her admission— it pained his heart to have her upset. He questioned, “A bad dream? What was it about?” She stepped onto the cold marble floor, shivering, shrugging on a thicker robe hung nearby. His eyes followed her smaller form come closer, curling up in a plush chair adjacent to his position. She wiped a hand across her face, still groggy.

“I can hardly remember now. I was alone, so alone, not even my dragon was around. I k-kept calling out for someone, probably you,” she pulled the robe tighter, “I don’t know. Maybe it was the wine.”

Cerra’s lips were drawn tight, brows pulled together. Criston wanted to pull the pretty girl onto his lap, she was still shivery. He thought of a decent response, something comforting. The knight settled on, “It was obviously a dream, I’d never desert you my Princess. That big white beast wouldn’t either.”

Her lips curled up to let out a tinkling laugh— making Criston’s sick heart skip a beat. Cerra replied, “Cloudwing is not a beast! She’s a good girl.” The brunette chuckled along with the Targaryen, smiling helplessly, such a lovesick dumb dog was he.

A beat of silence grew over them, heavy with something. The earlier revelation of Lucerra behaving with romantic intentions still lay undiscussed. Criston suggested gently, “You will catch a cold if you do not get back under the covers, princess. You won’t be alone, I swore an oath.”

One he would break if she just asked. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted that truly or not. He’d gotten quite far being the son of a common born steward.

She bit her lower lip and shrugged, “I’d much rather sit with you Ser Criston. I’ll be okay as long as I keep my feet off the dreadful stone.”

“Lucerra, please, shall I pick you up then? You need sleep, the Sept remember?”

Her gaze locked onto the white knight’s intensely. Lucerra fidgeted with her robe, the damn air growing heavier. Criston found it hard to think when she was being so confusing. She finally spoke, a meek whisper, “Yes, that would be nice, thank you.”

Lifting the blonde was easy, her squeak and grasp onto his shoulders adorable. Criston had to bat away more thoughts about how simple she was to handle. He laid her down gently, taking the coat she shrugged off. Lucerra grabbed onto his hand with a fervent tightness as he turned back to his chair.

“Please, don’t leave me so alone, I don’t care what Rhaenyra says. Just keep me warm?”

Her pretty face was achingly raw, open, eyes tinged with fear. Criston swallowed heavily. He was weak. He couldn’t run away this time. Didn’t want to run away, bask in the sweet sin. Maybe it was meant to be. Maybe it was a test from the seven.

“Criston?”

“Yes, just, just- give me a second to get my armor off.”

Now he was shivery with want, warring with trepidation. Ridding his body of armor was horribly slow. The awkward clank of each piece coming off. Each heavy noise reminded him what he was potentially giving up. Soon Criston remained in simple breeches and a linen shirt. Lucerra pulled back the covers and smiled nervously.

He climbed onto the soft bed, pulling the blankets back over their frames. Unsure of what came next, Criston simply laid on his back and gazed at her. Lucerra murmured, “Must you be the pious one now?” He raised an amused brow at the bold comment.

“What’s that supposed to mean princess?”

She frowned and nestled into his side, wrapping an arm around him and tucking soft hair into the crook of shoulder and jaw. Criston exhaled sharply, unused to such intimate touch after donning the white cloak. He reached over to grab her leg, pulling it snug across his lower belly, thankfully out of the way of his swelling prick.

Cerra gasped against his neck, giggling, “Good, now I don’t feel like a concubine.”

“Concubine? Pfft. You’re white as snow compared to my cloak,” he replied.

“It’ll be our secret, I’d fear I would perish without my white knight. I swear it upon my heart.”

He couldn’t respond, lest it be something out of control. Instead he rubbed her back and knee, squeezing once in agreement with Cerra’s statement. Soon she fell asleep, softly puffing against his neck. Criston joined soon after, utterly content and warm.

The simple action of cuddling up couldn’t slake the thirst that grew within him for the lovely princess. They had remained chaste and he arose early every morn to get dressed and step back outside the wooden door. Lucerra would seek out touches in secret, holding pinkies with him, laying her head on an armored shoulder in the Godswood.

She would share smiles with the knight across the throne room, Rhaenyra’s calculating look upon the utterly obvious pair. Criston knew one could see into his bleeding heart if they looked into his eyes. The way Princess Lucerra grew tighter and tighter into his side around the keep, lavender eyes sparkling aroused many curious onlookers.

Rumors began to swirl. Criston reluctantly stood outside her chambers a couple nights a week. One night he encountered a poorly prying Harwin Strong. The fellow knight had made one too many passes and he called out, “Get your big ass over here!” He didn’t mind Harwin, but did mind being spied on.

The hand’s son looked sullen as he walked up to Criston, flicking down a dark hood. He gave a sheepish smile, apologizing, “Uh, you know, the girls want what they want.” Criston crossed his arms and deadpanned, “Your girl wants me expelled from King’s Landing on account of rumors”

Harwin gave him a look, disgusting pity lacing his features. Criston reiterated, “The girl remains pure, she looks to me as a protector, you know how easily frightened the princess has always been.” Somehow he felt like a liar. Still her pretty lips and cunt remained untouched.

“Sure Cole. Just be careful, you know what the punishment is of breaking your oath.”

Criston’s temper flared to life, taunting Harwin with a fake smile, “You be careful too now, two Valyrians making some beautiful brown haired babes is a bit strange no?”

Harwin shoved him into the door with a snarl. Breakbones’ power at full force knocked the wind out of Criston, but he wheezed a laugh. He was no better than him— just another lovesick fool. Strong rumbled, “Keep your damn mouth shut and I’ll stay on my side, but I know you got the princess primed for your dirty lowborn cock.”

Criston didn’t want to get his face pummeled in. The raucous already probably woke his sweetling. He gave another smarmy look and hummed, “Noted, Strong.” That earned the knight another shove and the burly man stomped off to lick the bitch’s teats.

The door opened behind Criston, a bewildered Lucerra in her robe. She questioned, “W-what was that? Are you alright Ser Criston? Come in, please.”

His dark eyes scanned down the hallway once more before stepping inside, sighing as she enveloped him into a warm embrace. Criston spoke lowly, “Big sister had sent her own shield to spy on me. We should be more careful.”

Lucerra frowned, lips setting into a pout. She murmured, “We’ve done nothing horrid. Yes, unseemly, but I’m intact. Turn around, let me get off this dreaded armor.” Criston appreciated her desire to learn how to discard his Kingsguard armor— although he averted guilty eyes from the way the Targaryen would carefully hang his cloak, like it still meant something.

As they laid together, she complained into his neck, lithe fingers playing with his inky hair, “You’re right, we should be more courtly, take more precaution. Of all of my sister’s misgivings, why does she care?”

Criston played dumb, it’s what he was anyway. Lied again and said he had no clue why Rhaenyra took such a deep distaste to the pair’s relationship. He sighed, “It will work out, more careful, yes. C’mon, to sleep, sorry about the noise.”

Another night in her arms was a blessing to Criston. He would be reluctantly busy the next day. The king needed a whole retainer for his appearance in public at the Dragonpit. It was the anniversary of Aegon’s landing. Luckily the princess would be in his peripheral. Along with the conniving heir and her other eyes.

It was a banal affair, King Viserys smiling and waving to the crowds. Queen Alicent held her youngest child, Daeron. Rhaenyra and Laenor were surrounded by her bastard brood, holding her own babe Joffrey. Named after that flimsy knight who Laenor was fucking. Poor sap died in the city under strange circumstances, likely Daemon’s doings.

Criston met eyes with Harwin, vaguely disguising a sneer. He ignored the brute and turned his vision back to the crowds, the smallfolk staying relatively easy. Lucerra stood next to her elder sister, holding Lucerys, her namesake. Her smile was gorgeous, a couple of boys cheered for her, throwing a flower.

After the public spectacle, the princess gave a shy smile to Criston on his horse, cheeks rosy pink before the door was slammed shut by the cunt Daemon. He raised a brow and hopped onto the front of the wheelhouse, offhandedly commenting, “Cunt struck and you haven’t even defiled my niece, Ser Crispin.”

The Dornishman clenched his jaw so hard he feared it may crack a tooth. He rode ahead, staying silent, Daemon didn’t forget a slight and surely hadn’t forgot when Criston embarrassed the rogue prince in tournament. Pompous ass.

More annoying feast and merriment kept the knight from his pretty girl. Lords and ladies filled the grand dining hall, dancing to and fro. He stayed put against a column, watching her. Lucerra wasn’t much of a dancer, but she let the old Sea Snake guide her around some turns.

A body sidled next to him, a familiar face and scent. The Queen herself, Alicent smiled softly up at him. She stated, “You’re distracted Ser Criston.” He sighed in return, “I’m sure you’re quite aware of the rumors. Seven cursed my weak heart.”

“Lucerra’s harmless,” Alicent glared toward the non-green side of the table, “It’s her lying sister, you remained truthful. I’ve been trying to stifle the rumors. Have you stayed chaste? I hope you have on account of your neck, my dear Knight.”

Criston leaned down to murmur, “Agonizingly so. I fear I’ve been bewitched yet again. Harwin Strong was sniffing around the other night.”

Her lips turned to a foul grimace at the mention. Alicent hissed, “The realm’s delight is carting around her bastards like trueborns and she’s deadset on potentially ruining her sister’s reputation to get at you.”

“Always been selfish, hasn’t she,” Criston laughed.

Alicent smirked, placing both of her hands over the knight’s. The green queen spoke plainly, “Please be careful dear heart. You’re a valuable asset to our proud dynasty.” The long-suffering redhead disappeared into the throng of people, ever an ally for him.

Back to scanning the surroundings. Daemon was spinning with Rhaenyra, likely talking horseshit in High Valyrian. He scanned for Lucerra, finding her cornered by the tables with a noble clad in the colors of House Darklyn, known bootlickers.

His chest tightened with jealousy. Criston seethed to himself, chanting internally, ‘I will not make a scene, I will not make a scene.’ The Darklyn lad was too close for his liking. It suddenly felt too hot under his heavy armor. He was close to the brink, gripping the pommel of his sword until his knuckles whitened.

Lucerra seemed uncomfortable, face uneasy and body stiffening. The Darklyn fuck was leaning into her space, lips undoubtedly spewing disgusting things a lady shouldn’t hear. The princess gasped at something he said and turned away, getting yanked back towards the man.

That was enough.

Criston stormed forward, shoving through the nobility, snarling in anger. He yanked the uncouth prick by the collar and dragged him far away from his princess. Parts of the crowd stopped to stare, Rhaenyra perking up to look. The princess blushed and excused herself, quickly finding another dance partner in the more palatable form of Tyland Lannister.

“What are you doing? I have done nothing to the King!,” the black haired teen spat. Criston continued to haul the boy past the columns to a quieter place, anger clouding any sort of judgement. He shoved the noble bitch against an alcove, gauntlet pressed against twitching neck.

Darklyn gasped and writhed for air, eyes wide with fear. Criston hissed, “The Kingsguard protects the family and the king. You should know better than to touch the princess like that. I ought to gut you, throw you onto the spikes of Maegor’s Holdfast and watch you rot.”

The stinking reek of piss filled Criston’s nostrils. He looked down in disgust, muttering, “Weakling piss-ant. Don’t dare come near her-,” his threat was unfinished as he was whirled to face Lord Commander Westerling. His face was hard and eyes flinty— obviously disappointed.

“Come Cole, we need to have a word.”

The walk was quiet and unsettling, only the clank of their gear and footsteps sounding off as they reached the quieter area of Maegor’s Holdfast. Criston apologized immediately, “My temper Ser, I apologize, he was manhandling the Princess.”

Harrold Westerling shook his head with a resigned sigh. He rumbled, “You’ve already toed the line Ser Cole. I don’t want to have a capable fighter like you dismissed or facing the black, gelded at that.”

Criston’s roiling emotions died down into a despairing state— his chest fluttering with fear. He nodded and held his head down in obeisance. Westerling continued, “You must take a step back. You’re of the most elite of elite men, a big step from your beginnings. Princess Lucerra is an enchanting girl, I know this is hard, but as soon as you took the oath— this is your life. You must cease all feelings for the girl or request to be transferred to another.”

Criston fought back the warble in his voice. He wanted to rip his cloak off and shout his love, make someone understand. He swore, “I know Lord Commander, I know. I have never defiled the girl, I would never. This is my calling and I’m shirking it. I’ll think about requesting an exchange.”

Harrold clapped him on the shoulder and regarded him with kinder eyes, “Good. I was struck too once. I had many princesses to tend to with Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s litter of dragons. Just, please, pray on it and keep it in line Ser Cole.”

“Yes sir.”

He sulked about, Harrold ordering him to his chambers until the was called to his usual watch over his Lucerra. Criston hoped she was alright. He guiltily turned dark eyes onto his shrine of the seven. The small flail and beaded necklace awaited. He had been ignoring the faith, so entrenched in sin Criston could hardly bare to look at the Mother’s cold face.

He prayed and prayed to the mother for relief of his twisted desire, depraved lust, uncontrollable need to consume a sparkling untainted virgin. Then to the warrior to ease his temper, make Criston a calm knight, not blinded by rage so he may protect accordingly. Down the list he went until the dead skull relief of the Stranger awaited.

“If I fail, take me into your arms and punish me accordingly,” he whispered, a couple tears leaking onto his armor, shining by the candles. He would confess another time and receive his penance. Bloodletting seemed fit. Flagellation made him think clear, the pain taking away sickness in mind and body.

A sharp knocking snapped Criston out of his religious wallowing. He called out, “I’m coming.” The door opened to the queen and Ser Rickard Thorne. They both were cloaked and Alicent’s doe eyes looked worried. The younger knight questioned, “What? What is it?”

Alicent shushed him and murmured, “Our dear Lucerra and…the heir,” she spat the word like it was bile on her tongue, “Had some intense words after the feast. Ser Thorne escorted Cerra to her chambers.”

Thorne’s gravelly voice was low, “It was quiet and I checked in as she was in quite the state. She’s not in her chambers and the servant’s passage was left slightly ajar.”

Alicent frowned, “I know she’s upset and frightened. I would rather you find her. No one knows of this. I doubt she would leave the keep but gods forbid. We checked underneath the keep and Thorne most of the passageways. I will keep this at utmost secrecy, dear Criston.”

He nodded, quickly gathering his gear and a dark cloak to cover the white of his garb. While fastening his belt he quickly thanked the pair, “I will find her now. Thank you my queen, Ser Thorne. You may rest now. She will be returned.”

He chastely kissed the queens ring, patting his fellow knight on the shoulder and strode forward, urgency at his tail. Criston was fearful, dreadfully so. What did Rhaenyra do? He bit his lip, worked his jaw, making his rounds around the shadows of the outer courtyard. The goldcloaks were obviously not doing their job, playing cards up in a tower.

He worried she finally broke the princess, told Lucerra of the past. She would be heartbroken. He sped his pace, deciding to check the Godswood. Somewhere she would still feel safe. He knew Cerra wouldn’t run anywhere outside the walls, she’d have a fainting spell.

Speeding up he decided to take a turn and clamber up the wall into the Godswood. He must not be seen. Especially after tonight’s mishap. Swinging a leg over the thick red stone, Criston shimmied down and landed with a dull thud. The clouds covered the moon— making it dreadfully dark. Lucerra must truly be upset. He swallowed down a tightening throat. He needed to be the protector, not a weeping craven.

He scanned around the dark trees and arches to the left. It seemed empty. He moved forward, keeping to the brush, listening. Closer towards the heart tree he heard the familiar little hitching of breath. His Cerra. The fear of what came next shivered his spine.

Criston called gently, “Princess, Princess, is that you?”

He slowly approached, holding out a hand like he was soothing a skittish foal. He could barely see her, just the white of hair and a shadow of a figure. He took another step, stopping when she wept, “No Ser Cole, go away, I wish to be alone.”

All of his fears had come true. She’d turned against him. He shook his head. No. This wouldn’t do. The knight would change her mind. Lucerra Targaryen needed him, not Ser Cole, not the loyal dog, just Criston Cole of Blackhaven’s marches.

“Ser, please, I cannot bear this,” Cerra warbled.

He came to her side, kneeling, swallowing another agonized noise when she turned from him. Criston begged, “Sweetling, what’s the matter, why are you distraught? It pains me.” She sobbed, hands wrenching into a now-dirtied dress.

The brunette engulfed her tinier frame into a tight grip, her back plastered to his. Much like they slept many a night. She fought and tried to wrench free, crying, “No! Let go! I’m just a replacement for her! I always come second! Ser Cole!”

He held tighter, exploding, “I love you!”

Her writhing stopped, eyes turning to him, confusion on fine features. Criston swore, “Bythe Seven and my oath, I love you more than anything Lucerra.” She shook her head, confused, “No, no you don’t, Rhaenyra told me why y-you became my shield.”

He hissed, “No, she lied, she lied lied lied! I kissed her yes, but I ran, I knew it was bad. I was an idiot— she merely wanted a fill in for Daemon. I swear it to be true,” he continued in a softer voice, “I never thought I would love so strongly and deeply as I do with you, it’s more than lust. I would worship you until my last breath, chaste forever.”

Lucerra bawled again, curling into him, soft thighs straddling his own as she wept. He held her and shushed and coddled, praising the perfect maiden’s presence. He dumbly reiterated, “Never, never has anyone taken my heart like you have.” Her bejeweled hands gripped into his cloak.

Her face was dangerously close to his, sweet scent filling the knight’s nose. She whispered in a rasp, “Do you mean it? You love me? I love you, it nearly broke me to hear Rhaenyra tell me.” Criston frowned, pressing his forehead to her own. He murmured, “I was dumb, I bolted after it was initiated. I didn’t tell you, b-because, I didn’t want to lose you princess.”

She placed a hand over his rapidly beating heart and said, “I believe you. I forgive you.”

Criston was so relieved he didn’t realize the tear leaking down his cheek, kissed away by impossibly soft lips. She whispered fervently, “Kiss me Criston. Kiss me like you love me, like you said.” He carefully caressed her jaw, peering into those adoring orbs.

He closed the gap, lips finally meeting, the Princess sighing into him. She clung to his chest still, passively letting Criston take the reins. He chastely shared tender pecks, letting Cerra get into a rhythm.

Her lips opened as the kisses got more desperate, boiling tension rising. She whimpered when Criston lapped into her mouth, moaning himself. She tasted like sweet wine and cinnamon, opening for him beautifully. Cerra wrapped her arms around his neck, thin fingers gripping his long locks. He moaned again, lashes fluttering. All guilt was out the window when in the embrace of this goddess.

He tilted her head to intertwine their tongues, Lucerra shivering helplessly, whining his name. She was shy, better for Criston to take her warm mouth. The princess plastered herself tight to his body, breasts pushed up from the movement.

He’d be good. He will not stain her maidenhead, as much as the dark part of him sought to claim every inch of her. The brunette slid his hands down her waist, squeezing soft hips. She mewled again, feverishly smacking her lips against him. Criston felt her overwhelmed trembling, eyes teary just like he fantasized.

She pulled away with a string of drool, panting, “I- Criston- it aches.” His cock jumped at what the implication of that was. He pressed little kisses down her jaw and neck, basking in her cute noises. He purred, “What aches Princess? I shan’t dare to hurt your heart again.”

She blushed so heavily he could see it even in the pitch of the night. Criston smiled gently, breathing hotly against her ear, “You can tell me, sweet love.” The princess shivered again, hips bucking fruitlessly against his garb.

“Y-you know. M-my,” she looked away, “My flower.”

The dog in Criston grinned at that, the innocent little thing. He hummed, “Have you soaked your linens Lucerra? I don’t have to breach your maidenhead to pleasure my sweet girl. Would you like that?”

She practically sobbed, “Please, my knight, Criston. Our little secret.”

“Always,” he said, taking off his gloves and Cerra’s trembling hands undoing the heavy gauntlets. He slid warm palms up her plush thighs, so soft yet strong from dragon riding. She desperately sought his lips to cover an indecent sound.

One greedy hand spread open a thigh, the other swiping thick fingers through her slick cunt, dragging upward to graze her swollen bud. The princess shrieked into his swollen lips, Criston doing his best to cover the noise.

He offered his free hand up, half-groaning, “Suckle on my fingers sweet girl, can’t have you waking half the keep up.” Lucerra shyly opened her swollen lips to let Criston’s calloused fingers in. He pressed slightly on her tongue, earning a cute little garbled whine.

“Now be good my love, I’ll make you feel better, always will,” he promised. Gathering more wetness seeping from her cunt, Criston circled his fingers around that bud, teasingly thumbing too, dragging the roughened digit against her tender untouched flesh.

She seized and cried around his fingers, drooling and sniffling. Criston cooed, “Mm, feels good Cerra? Made for me, swear it, keep singing for me.” He picked up the speed of his fingers, circling and pinching to make her squeal and writhe on his lap.

Soon the princess was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, unable to stop crying and shaking, thighs trembling. Criston suddenly realized his cock was throbbing and twitching, ready to fill his garments like a green boy.

He desperately rambled, “C’mon my love, let it go, let the pleasure take you, I’m so close, together yes? Kiss me, yes, yes!” They gnashed teeth and noses against each other, no finesse in these last moments, the little death.

She gushed over his fingers first, Criston swallowing her suprisingly quiet keen. His belly tightened, balls drawing up, whining out of his nose at the ecstasy. Cumming absolutely untouched, so intense and powerful. They continued to sloppily kiss, stop to pant, kiss some more until the climax passed.

Criston withdrew his hands from her cunt, wiping them on his cloak. The princess was sapped of energy, head tucked under his scruffy jaw. She murmured, “I think I saw the stars.” He smiled, the giddiness of cumming warping his senses, “Mhm, me too sweetheart. But we need to get you back to your quarters.”

He carried her, sharing more intimate pecks and nuzzling in the darkness, all the way back to her quarters. Ser Thorne seemed to sigh in relief before taking in their debauched state and quickly leaving the scene. Criston placed her down and looked around once more before pressing her into the door, taking her bee-stung lips.

“I love you, I love you,” she sighed.

“I love you more, my princess,” Criston praised.

“Do you listen sister? What will they think when they find your maidenhead shredded?,” Rhaenyra stepped out of the gloom. The bitch took a servant’s route. Lucerra’s face reddened in anger, “Like yours was? Good thing Laenor prefers the company of his pretty squires.”

Criston balked at the brazen comment, lips curling up. The elder sister’s hands balled up, pale skin blotching up in anger. She hissed, “Enjoy your night Lucerra,” pointing at Criston she added, “I’ll see you gelded and sent to the wall.”

The future queen whipped around and left with a furious curse. Lucerra looked to Criston for comfort, getting picked up and led into her bedroom. He grumbled, “The Queen won’t allow for that. Rhaenyra has her own secrets to deal with. Relax, relax, let me get you ready for bed.” His lovely girl did so, quiet but still affectionate. Criston ignored the feeling that this would be the close to the last night.

His gut was right. Within a fortnight he stood next to the Queen, tears in his dark orbs. Rhaenyra was absconding to Dragonstone, as she was the heir. Viserys obliged her request to take her sister, indicating she would begin the processes to marry her off. Lucerra gave her goodbyes, hugging the queen, her father, and then him.

“My heart lies with you always, I love you my white knight,” she whispered gently before stepping away to climb upon her white dragon. He remained stony, utter hate in his heart for Rhaenyra Targaryen. He would make sure she never saw happiness, just as she took his.

Alicent grabbed his hand and promised, “Criston, you will have her again. I may not be her, but I will be good to you as my sworn shield.”

He would tear through bone and marrow to get that chance. For now, he would wait, wait as long as needed. Criston Cole always got what he wanted, just had to work for it. There was a war brewing and she would be on the right side. His side.

[serene-faerie]

The legacy of Beren and Lúthien has the biggest impact on Elven pop culture— an impact that no other Elf/Man couple can even beat. Like, even the Elves in Aman are getting in on this hot new trend.

Horny paintings with so many variations of their first meeting— usually with a shirtless muscular Beren and a scantily-clad Lúthien swooning in his arms. Elven teens writing fanfiction about Beren and Lúthien— probably a lot of spicy stories about their time in Neldoreth. Beren becoming a sex symbol among Elf maidens, who are dreaming of finding their own hunk of a mortal man to fall in love with. Gay Elven lords thirsting after Beren and wanting a rugged mortal man to rail them into their beds. A small faction of Elven fangirls who ship Beren and Finrod because they’re “so hot” together. Fandom wars between Beren/Lúthien shippers and Beren/Finrod shippers. Color-coded couples’ jewelry inspired by Beren and Lúthien. In Aman, Oromë’s wolfhounds become hugely popular. So many Elven parents complaining about their daughters wanting to run away and find true love with hairy mortal men in forests. Vanyarin scholars spending decades dissecting the themes and motifs of the Lay of Leithian. A popular Telerin author writing an “erotic retelling” of the Lay of Leithian, which has so many spicy scenes that it becomes both popular among younger readers but also scandalous among said readers' parents. Finrod being the biggest Beren/Lúthien shipper of all time— he paints some of the horniest artworks, commissions a Vanyarin playwright to write a play about the Lay of Leithian, creates jewelry to match the aesthetics of Beren and Lúthien. He’s the captain of the Beren/Lúthien ship and no one else can hope to take his place.

All the reembodied Doriathrim are stunned at how popular Beren and Lúthien are. Melian kind of just takes it in stride. Thingol genuinely doesn’t know what to make of it— yes, he loves them both very much, and he's glad that his daughter is remembered among the Elves of Aman but he does NOT need to see a horny painting of his own daughter and son-in-law, thank you very much!

[darkacua]

Lilia is a jealous father

As much as I love the idea of ​​Lilia being his children's matchmaker and blindly supporting any crush they have, I like to think he's a jealous dad. Especially with Silver.

He loves Malleus and firmly believes he knows what's good for their future love and the good of the kingdom when he sees him sighing like a maiden at his window (although he obviously does his secret research into the past of the person responsible for said sighs, just in case). Dragons only mate by love and can only create heirs if there's love involved, so he doesn't fear much about one day seeing future grandchildren coming from him.

However, Silver is a whole other story.

He's his baby, his youngest son, with whom he learned about humanity and how fragile beings outside of fairies are. He was, is, and always will be his little boy whom he still takes to his room when he falls asleep in places he shouldn't, and he fears losing that.

Does he want to see him happy? Yes. Does he want him to get together with a person he loves? By his port. Does he want him to start a family and give him grandchildren? Obviously, that's a stupid question.

Does he want to see him with a romantic partner right now? NO.

I like to think that when he took Silver as a baby he had to do a lot of research on human infants and their obvious development into adulthood. The problem with this is that he taught himself with fairly outdated books on human anatomy and customs, so he has a somewhat… distorted idea of ​​how all that growth and hormones happen. The boy is already 17 and Lilia is still waiting for puberty to hit and the physical changes described in the books he read over a decade ago.

So imagine one day you just see your son starting to get surrounded by younger people of his age, who are a little too cheerful and affectionate with him, or they stop him in the hallway just to say hello and talk a little about their day, or god forbid, someone asks you to accompany them to a more secluded spot so they can confess comfortably. Lilia is sure his world is falling apart.

These hormonal animals want to take his baby and snatch it away from him! (That's NOT even close to what's happening, but the fairy doesn't understand reason or sense.)

So you have a 700 year old fairy, who refuses to see his youngest son grow up and leave the nest in the romantic realm, making a thousand and one plans to avoid any kind of confession to Silver, no matter what year, rank or gender tries, Lilia is going to "accidentally" stop it.

Malleus can only pray for his brother's well-being, as he knows he's about to go through quite a few embarrassing moments because of their father.

Español bajo el corte

Por mucho que ame la idea de Lilia siendo el casamentero de sus hijos y apoyando ciegamente cualquier enamoramiento que estos tengan, me gusta creer que es un papá celoso. Sobre todo con Silver.

Ama a Malleus y cree firmemente que sabe lo que es bueno para su futuro amoroso y para el bien del reino cuando lo ve suspirando como una doncella en su ventana (aunque obviamente hace sus investigaciones secretas a fondo del pasado del responsable de dichos suspiros, solo por si las dudas). Los dragones únicamente se unen por amor y solo pueden crear herederos si hay amor de por medio, así que no teme mucho por algún día ver futuros nietos viniendo por parte de él.

Sin embargo, Silver es una historia completamente aparte.

Es su bebe, su hijo más joven, con el que más aprendió sobre la humanidad y lo frágiles que son los seres por fuera de las hadas. Fue, es y siempre será su pequeño niño el cual aún lleva a su habitación cuando se queda dormido en lugares que no debería, y teme perder eso.

¿Quiere verlo feliz? Si ¿Quiere que se junte a una persona que ama? por su puerto ¿Quiere que forme una familia y le de nietos? Obviamente, es una pregunta estupida.

¿Quiere verlo con una pareja romántica en este momento? NO.

Me gusta creer que cuando tomo a Silver de bebe tuvo que investigar mucho sobre los infantes humanos y su obvio desarrolló hacia la adultez. El problema de esto es que se auto enseñó a sí mismo con libros bastante desactualizados sobre la anatomía y costumbres humanas, así que tiene una idea un poco… distorsionada de cómo sucede todo eso del crecimiento y las hormonas. El chico ya tiene 17 y Lilia sigue esperando a que le llegue la pubertad y los cambios físicos que decían los libros que leyó hace ya más de una década.

Así que imaginen que un día solo ve a su hijo empezando a ser rodeado por más jóvenes de sus edad, que son un poco demasiado alegres y afectivos con él, o que lo detienen en el pasillo solo para saludarlo y hablar un poco sobre su días, o dios no lo permita, que alguien le pida que lo acompañe a un punto más apartado para poder confesarse cómodamente. Lilia está segura de que su mundo se está cayendo a pedazos.

¡Estos animales hormonales quieren tomar a su bebé y arrebatarlo de él! (Eso NO ES ni de cerca lo que está pasando, pero el hada no entiende razón ni sentido)

Así que tienes a un hada de 700 años, que se niega a ver a su hijo más joven crecer y salir del nido en el ámbito romántico, haciendo mil y un planes para evitar cualquier tipo de confesión hacía Silver, no importa el año, rango o género del que lo intente, Lilia va a “accidentalmente” evitarlo.

Malleus solo puede rezar por el bien de su hermano, ya que sabe que está apunto de pasar por bastantes momentos vergonzosos por culpa de su padre.

[staylovesmiley]

request 👉👈: Han as a pirate crew member falls in love with The captain's (Chans) younger sister(also a crew member,doctor of the ship)and how they sneak around chan to see eachother, tooth rotting fluff

(please)

author’s note; I really hope I did your request justice~ I know you said tooth rotting fluff but I couldn’t help but thrown in some angst near the end with this prompt hehe-

If you want to be tagged in any future skz reqs or reqs of other groups I write for pls see here

ᯓᡣ𐭩Pairing; Han Jisung x Female!Reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩Warnings; fluff, angst, reader is Chan’s little sister, implied sexual relationship between reader and Han, fluff could have been more tooth rotting pls forgive me-, threats of s*icide (kind of? Putting this here just in case), illness, and murderous Chan oops-

Neither of them had intended for things to end up like this, but neither could be truly saddened by the out either.

It started as just him being clumsy, the raven haired man often ending up in the little room she used to treat the crew of various injuries and ailments.

Y/n, ever the diligent doctor, though she only achieved the title since the man she was under apprenticeship with had fallen ill himself and succumb to the sickness while they were still at sea. Her brother wasn’t so fond of the idea of putting her in a position where she was at risk of the same fate treating the sick constantly, but she had insisted that this was her way of being able to contribute more to the crew and after weeks of pleading with the captain he finally allowed it.

Ah yes, Captain Bang’s little sister. She had joined the crew along with her brother under the previous captain’s charge as they were orphans. When the old man finally kicked the bucket and handed over the title to the young Christopher Bang, he had half a mind to drop his beloved little sister off at a convent where she would be safe away from the life of pirating they had always known, but upon seeing her tearful eyes at the thought of being separated from him he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

She was the only woman on board, and the first thing the young captain would tell anyone who set foot on his ship was that she was off limits. No one was to make a pass at her, one lingering glance and your eyes would be gouged out he would say with a smirk that let you think he was merely teasing though the look in his eyes said he was serious.

Han Jisung had no intentions of falling for her, though he had always found her beauty to rival that of the finest jewels, he knew better than to enter those waters under the heavily watchful eye of her older brother, his captain.

But one day after he had cut his palm something nasty while helping out in the kitchens he had been escorted to where the young maiden did her duties. She had welcomed him in with a smile like sunshine and a voice so soft it felt like he was dreaming. Gentle hands worked on his wounds carefully as she kept up small talk to distract the pirate.

It wasn’t the first time he would find himself being tended to by her delicate hands, he was just so clumsy after all.

From a sprained ankle or wrist to splinters or even a mild concussion at one point, y/n took care of it all with a warm smile and gentle care as to not harm him any further.

“You know, I’m beginning to think you just want an excuse to come and see me.” She teased one evening after the crew had all gone to sleep and the raven haired man ended up knocking on the door to her private quarters with a mild case of sea sickness. “Would that…would it be so wrong of me to admit that it could be the case?” He spoke just above a whisper as she looked through a trunk for something to soothe his sore stomach.

Her hands froze on the bottle of tonic. “Is that so?” She said softly, slowly moving back over to the young pirate with the bottle after a moment to regain her composure and attempt to mask the glee she felt at his confession. “And if it is?” His eyes locked with hers, hand moving to grip her wrist lightly where she held the bottle up to his lips. “A-A sip of this should help calm your-“ before she could finish her instructions, Jisung had moved the tonic away and brought his free hand to cup her cheek gently.

“H-Han we can’t-“ she spoke softly, eyes wide as she knew how protective her brother could be. “Just once, please y/n…just one kiss is all I ask.” Her resolve withered rapidly as soft brown eyes gazed deeply into her own, filled with desire and longing she had never witnessed before but had always craved. Silently she nodded in acceptance, letting him pull her to him slowly until their lips brushed against each other softly.

Her breath hitched in her throat at the contact, though it was barely there, and she took the initiative to close the rest of the distance and press her lips to his firmly. It was a bit clumsy, laced with inexperience as neither party had ever shared a kiss with anyone before, but it didn’t stop the butterflies that erupted in either of their chests as her hands found their way to play with the hairs at the back of his neck and his fell to rest gently on her waist.

Once they pulled away for air, a silent promise was muttered that they would never speak of this to another soul, and that was how it began.

It continued just the same, mysterious ailments and injuries plaguing the young crew mate and causing him to have to visit the young physician often. Because of his clumsy and over exaggerated nature no one seemed to be the wiser to the truth of their meetings.

That was until one afternoon while working in the kitchen, first mate Lee Minho happened to slip and land awfully on his hip causing it to pop out of place. He limped his way to y/n’s little office on the ship, stubbornly refusing the help of the crew to get there and when he pushed open the door he was glad it was only he who was there to witness what was behind it.

There, on the cot she laid underneath one of the crew, someone he considered closest to him, Han Jisung. The two of them had pulled away from each other at the sound but it was obvious by the way his shirt was untucked and the first few buttons on her blouse were undone what the situation had been.

Y/n sat up so quickly she almost bumped heads with the man on top of her, the both of them scrambling away from each other and frantically trying to explain away what he had witnessed. “Save it, I saw nothing here. Now, miss y/n, please assist me in getting my hip back into place?” Minho closed the door behind him, moving to lean against the small desk in the room as both Jisung and Y/n looked from the intruder to each other. “Well- I don’t have all day and I’m in an awful lot of pain standing here.”

As if snapped back to reality she went into action, helping her brother’s first mate get his joints sorted before giving him something for the pain. “Please get some rest, Minho.” She spoke softly, giving him an anxious smile. “I will, and you need to learn to be more careful…had it been anyone else that walked through that door and this would have been a different story.” With wide eyes the couple nodded in understanding and Han moved to help the elder crew mate out of the office and back to the bunk room below.

They continued like that for months, meeting now under the security of moonlight while the rest of the ship was deep in slumber, the pair would lay together in her private quarters on the other side of the ship from the captain and crew. As the pale light shown through the single window down onto their naked forms, Jisung would trace slow shapes on her skin as they spoke of what life could be like if they didn’t have to hide their love. Jisung always made sure to leave just before she drifted asleep, whispering apologies and how he wished he could stay till morning but unless they wanted to be found out he needed to return below deck to the rest of the crew before they woke for the morning chores.

Just as autumn began, a chill settling in the salty sea air, the crew began to fall ill one by one. A fever would settle into their bones and though most recovered after a week or so of care and rest, there were few fatalities among them that had those fortunate enough to not fall ill hoping and praying that it wouldn’t be them next.

Y/n was in her office, taking stock of her supplies as she heard the door swing open and yet another sick crew mate dropped onto the cot in the corner of the room. As she stood to make her way over and examine the pirate, her movements froze upon seeing the identity of her newest patient. Her lover, Han Jisung, lay clammy and shivering on the cot and her hand flew to cover her mouth with a gasp.

Minho and another crew mate, Seo Changbin, had brought him there and while Changbin regarded her reaction curiously, Minho sent her a look that told her she had better compose herself and do her job. Y/n quickly covered the lower part of her face with her handkerchief and tied it into place before getting to work.

She had Minho boil a pot of water and once it was brought to her she worked to calm the chills that wracked the body in front of her, administering some of the medicine that had seemed to help those of the crew who had recovered. Working late into the night, y/n tried her dammdest to bring Jisung’s fever down but to no avail.

As the days went on and he didn’t seem to be getting any better, Captain Bang found his sister waiting for him in his cabin on morning with fear and desperation evident in her expression. “Brother, please…can we dock at the nearest town so that I can find him a doctor- a real doctor, please.” She begged, clutching onto his forearm tightly as she looked into his eyes with her own full of sadness he hadn’t seen there since when he had threatened to separate from her all those years ago.

Shaking his head, he was firm in his decision. “You know I can’t do that, y/n. That town isn’t very keen on pirates and we are likely to be captured the second we are within their waters.” Tears brimmed in her eyes as she continued to plead with the captain, suspicion beginning to rise in her brother at the rate of her desperation.

“Over the course of this illness you haven’t once begged for the life of another crew mate like this. Pray tell, what is so special about Han Jisung?” He tone was taunting and cold, his dismissive demeanor causing desperation and fear for the wellbeing of her lover to boil into anger and frustration at being disregarded by her older brother. “We have a strong crew still, if he is to perish then we will mourn him but it is just the way of our life.” With a wave of his hand he motioned for her to leave and drop the subject and the motion seemed to snap something within her.

“His life be meaningless to you but he is all I hold dear in this world, brother- please.” This seemed to pique his interest and he turned to face her once again. “Y/n what are you saying…” With a new set determination and anger coursing through her she stood her ground. “Christopher I am telling you that I love him.”

The captain only let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head. “So the rumors I have heard are true, is that we’re he has been sneaking off to in the evenings? Several crew members have reported him absent at bunk checks several nights now…he’s been going to meet with you, hasn’t he?” Taking a deep breath, now seeing the rage in her brothers eyes at the blatant disregard for the rules he had set in place as captain, she regretted admitting her feelings to him.

“If this is true then he’d better pray the illness takes him before I can get my hands on him.” He said lowly while staring towards the door as if his gaze could pierce through the wood and across the ship to set the sick man ablaze in the bed he rest in. “Christopher please- I’m a grown woman. I know you care for me but if you wish to show me that you will spare him.”

Christopher only shook his head, grabbing one of his pistols from his desk before making his way to the door. “Better to put him out of his misery now and spare anyone else from catching his fever.” Y/n eyes widened and she began pulling frantically at her brothers arms and coat. “Christopher please! Please don’t do this-“ fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she used all the strength she could muster to stop him. “If you end his life I- I will go overboard. I’d rather be without life than without my beloved!” Her screams halted him where his hand pulled at the door.

At the realization that she was serious, seeing the fire burning in her eyes he sighed, running his free hand through his curly dark brown hair before going to set his pistol back on his desk. “I can’t dock at the next town, I’m sorry. You’ll have to pray he makes it through without.”

Nodding, y/n would accept this now if it was only a small victory to spare the life of the one she held dear from certain death as now it was all she could control before making her way back to the office to check on his condition.

It was a long week of praying and working throughout the night to keep his fever under control but all the lack of sleep she received during was made worth it when the fever finally broke and Jisung recovered well, as if the secret of their love was what was holding him back from healing, plaguing the both of their souls and preventing treatment from being effective.

As he fully regained consciousness, y/n explained to him what had happened, tears rolling down her cheeks as she recalled how terrifying her brother had been in that moment and how horribly she had feared for his life.

“Hey, y/n, my love….it’s over, I’m not going anywhere.” His soft, heart shaped smile seemed to calm her instantly and she quickly launched herself at the pirate causing laughter to erupt from his chest as he held onto her tightly. “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you…” she mumbled into his chest as she clung to him tightly, as if he would disappear should she let go. “Like I said…I’m not going anywhere.”

[astrology-by-sita]

ON CANCER RISINGS ♋️

This is a part of series on the rising signs, not necessarily in Zodiacal order.

So this is something I have pondered about. Cancer placements - since they're ruled by the moon - represent the 3 faces of the Moon Goddess : Maiden, Mother and D*eath-crone. Cancers might suffer mood swings and anger issues etc because they remain stuck in one of these phases, mostly the Mother.

Also it's independent of gender - Maiden, Mother etc are just energies, or attitudes. And it has nothing to do with age either. Again it's just an energy. Some are old and still stuck in the Mother phase while other younger cancers have already embodied the Crone.

Maiden : Cancers have Leo in the 2nd house of values. The maiden is free spirited and curious. She gives value to creativity and self expression. She wants to discover the world and explore everything. She doesn't want to remain stuck in her family's house or confined between four walls.

The Maiden wants to go out and have fun and fall in love. The maiden does not want to be tied down by familial obligations, so she isn't about nurturing or maternal energy. The spirit of youth is the Maiden, the eternal spring where playfulness and fun take over.

The Mother : Cancers have Scorpio 5h. When does the Maiden transform (Scorpio)? You guessed it - when she becomes a Mother (5h of children). It doesn't have to do with biological motherhood or procreation. 5h is also falling in love - anything that's close to your heart and you love passionately. It can be children, partner, property, house, money, etc...

Once cancers stop being the Maiden (exploring and having fun) and start to seriously care about stuff and people, they attach and refuse to detach. As the Mother clings to her children, cancers cling to anything they love and refuse to let go. They are likely to treat a loved one like their own child. They can be quiet possessive over everything they hold dear (again, Scorpio 5h).

Cancers have Sagittarius in the 6th house. The 6th house is rules and regulations which civilization sets. The routines, grind, discipline, submission, obedience, schedules, strictness, all "nitty gritty" of human daily life can contain humans but not Mother Nature. Sagittarius is an expansive sign and it can't be contained in a restraining house such as the 6th.

Mother Nature is indeed expansive, powerful and wild, natural disasters cause sudden damage to cities that humans constructed. No rule or law or restriction can contain Mother Nature because she's so powerful and does her own thing at will. No one can understand her or regulate her or control her. Even bushes start to grow over a destroyed wasteland. Nature takes over again and overcomes everything, after humans ruin stuff.

Oh, but yes, only one thing can overcome Mother Nature : Time... Saturn. Cancers have Capricorn in 7h. With time, green becomes gray, plants, trees etc d*ie out - so that new ones grow and flourish later and the cycle repeats. Interactions with other people (7h) can force Cancers to detach.

"Come on, grow the hell up" is something Cancers are likely to often hear from partners, friends, family members, and basically everyone. "Grow up" here means stop being attached to impermanent stuff which time might take away someday. Children grow up and leave the home. Partners might leave too. Money, possessions and property might go away etc...

When cancers learn to detach eventually, they become the Crone. The difference between the Mother and the Crone is that the former loves with attachement, the latter loves with detachment. The former only loves her children but the latter loves all children and everyone as her own children even if there's no bIood relation.

The Crone cares about everyone, about humanity as a whole, independently of whether they're from her family, or her tribe, or her country etc. Same as Mother Nature, She nurtures everyone, she helps them grow, and doesn't care about nationality or race.

The second transformation for cancers occurs in the actual 8th house of transformation, where they have the rational, detached Aquarius. Saturn rules the 7th as well as the 8th house, so if cancers themselves do not decide by themselves to detach and become the Crone, disappointment from interactions with other people is likely to make them detach. It's better to detach as a result of inner wisdom than disappointment from others, right?

So if you have a cancer placement, think about this. Try to find out whether you're the Maiden, Mother or Crone. Try to become the Crone. Keep in mind that it's not a linear process, you can go back and forth between those phases. But the goal is embodying the Crone.

[rosemaryblossomworld]

First Blood (ch.1)

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎!𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚜 𝚅𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛.

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚈/𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚃𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢....𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕?

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝟷𝟾 , 𝙰𝚞!𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝙳, 𝚁𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚛𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙰𝚞, 𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍!

𝙰/𝚗: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎! 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍...

Red Castle was the most dangerous place in the Kingslands. Why? For centuries, the land had been ruled by the most ancient and noble race of vampires! Nothing can break them. Strong...fast...immortal. And they have dragons to serve them.

Men feared and revered them. The Targaryen bloodline gave rise to many rumours and gossip. People whispered about them, their purity of blood and sacrifice.

Every three months, balls were organised for the Targaryen children to find partners.

But every time these partners "disappeared", everyone knew exactly how it happened, but were afraid to say it out loud. Servants, people from the upper classes, ordinary travellers disappeared.

Today was the 6th moon of the winter festival (Christmas). The weather was hot, uncharacteristic of the Kingslands. And on the 15th day of the sixth moon, the lords of the various houses began to receive an invitation from the Queen for a feast. Many considered this letter a "black mark".

This time the black mark fell on the house of Y/l/n, the lord's wife wept bitterly and clutched to her bosom, the youngest Lady of the house, who was beating hysterically. Lord Y/l/n looked gloomily at the letter and reread it over and over again.

"Daddy! Don't give me away, they'll kill me! Please!" young Sanda couldn't imagine that her comfortable days were coming to an end.

"Be quiet Sanda! You've been chosen, but that doesn't mean you can fall to the eyes of Jacaerys," the man muttered.

"Our Sanda is the most beautiful girl in the Kingdom Lands! She could match the Maiden herself! Everyone knows it, and the Queen and her children have found out. Of course she'll want the most beautiful girl in Westeros standing next to her son!" said Lady t/f hysterically.

"Don't get in the way Darlene! I'm thinking!" the man glanced sullenly at the letter again.

He threw a glance at his youngest daughter, now he saw before him a pathetic woman who thought everything would be decided at the wave of a hand. If it didn't involve the Targaryen family, then yes, Lord Y/l/n needed to wave his hand and all of his daughter's problems disappeared.

At that moment the eldest daughter of the family, Y/n, entered the room quietly, she was carrying a small cart with tea and cakes, a quiet and calm girl. She was a bastard. So in the house she was on the level of a servant. The girl was a little taken aback when she heard the pitiful howls of her sister and stepmother. But continued to arrange the cups on the table, pouring flavoured tea from the south.

The girl squinted at the letter in her father's hand and then looked at him, he was already looking at her.

"Interesting?" the gears in the lord's head began to move gradually.

"I dare not," Y/n answered hastily.

"Sanda has been chosen as a candidate to be the 'princess' of Jacaerys," the man sighed and threw a letter on the table.

Y/n looked at her younger sister, who was almost choking on her tears. The girl no longer saw the upstart she had been a few minutes ago when she bullied her. A nasty and caustic thought crept into Y/n's mind that made her want to chuckle. The lord felt it.

"Don't gloat! Lousy girl! Instead of Sanda, you're going to the ball. If Prince Jacaerys doesn't look at you, you're lucky, if he does, I'll give it to him," the lord smirked and looked at the shocked Y/n carefully. The cries of the stepmother and sister fell silent.

"What?" whispered the girl quietly, in that instant she was overcome with anger and sadness.

"Honey, you're a genius! How did we not guess it right away!?" immediately cheered the stepmother.

"Daddy! You're the best!" squealed Sanda and ran into her father's arms.

"The queen might get angry... "Y/n hurried to say.

"She won't be too angry if I tell her that the youngest daughter is seriously ill," the man sniggered.

"She can ask Sanda to attend the next ball, and the next, and the next, and so on ad infinitum!" raised her voice to the older mistress. The lord frowned.

"How dare you cross me!? You ignorant wench! You should be grateful that I took you in. It's time to repay our kindness. The ball will be in two days, so you will be moved to another room. Go!" shrieked the man, he knew perfectly well that his eldest daughter was right. But he didn't want to think about it in front of his wife and youngest daughter, lest he make a fool of himself.

The lord followed the girl's eyes as she looked at him with anger, once again those eyes were reminiscent of the eyes of the witch he had spent the night with. That woman had been beautiful. He had promised to make her his wife and take her out of this poverty. But he had not kept his promise, leaving that one in poverty. As he was packing up and leaving her decrepit home, the dark-haired woman whispered just one phrase: "My daughter will be the ruin of your family." The man laughed. He still laughs now because he looks at Y/n, at this unassuming and defenceless girl, and thinks: "And what can she do?"

Two days passed in preparation. For the first time, Y/n was treated like a queen, washed, fed, and dressed in her finest clothes. The stepmother and younger sister had gone to another estate to maintain the legend of the ailing younger mistress.

On the day of the festival a beautiful dress was sent to Y/n's room, it was red like blood, a black veil and gold jewellery completed the look. The maids carefully put the dress on her, did her hair and then left, leaving Y/n alone. The girl looked at herself and wanted to cry. To cry with happiness that she was wearing such expensive and nice clothes, and with grief that it was an unnecessary spectacle.

The girl wasn't allowed to be sad for long, she was called downstairs to go to the festival.

Y/n and her father stood opposite the queen, who towered majestically over them. Beside her stood her husband, Daemon Targaryen, a vicious prince and the most scandalous person in the kingdom. His two daughters stood beside him, Rhaena had only recently 'lost' her lover, while Baela still had a partner, but the betting was already underway as to when she would start looking for a groom.

Of course, there were rumours that Baela and Jacaerys were to be betrothed, but to this day, they remained free. Jacaerys stood proudly beside his mother, he didn't look at them, his head held high. Lucerys and Joffrey were nowhere to be seen. Everyone knew that Joffrey had not yet reached the age when the power of the ancient family was awakened. And Lucerys just didn't like the event, and the queen thought he was young in his choice of mate.

" I asked you, Lord Y/l/n, where is your youngest daughter?" the queen asked sternly, but every time she shifted her gaze to the young Y/n, her look softened.

"My youngest daughter is seriously ill! She came down with a fever a couple of days ago, the symptoms are terrible, and she's only getting worse," the man lied.

"But who is there with you?" she asked more calmly.

"Oh, it's my eldest daughter. She didn't want you to be angry, so she decided to personally volunteer to soothe your anger," the girl's father nudged her slightly.

"Your majesty," Y/n bowed.

Jacaerys, who had been standing bored when he heard the soft voice that roused his "dead" body, turned his attention to the sound. At the bottom of the steps stood the most beautiful girl he had ever seen at a ball. Soft facial features, a beautiful stance and a slight smile, he felt a hum in his ears, and before his gaze was only her. Was this what his mum had been talking about? "The eternal bond?" That's her, isn't it?

Sensing her son's change, Rhaenyra looked at her boy and then shifted her gaze to the girl. The woman smiled and hummed.

"Good, I see your point, that's very noble of you, enjoy the festival," the queen waved her hand and Lord Y/l/n hurriedly disappeared from the woman's gaze, fetching his eldest daughter.

"You can do whatever you want now. Dance, eat, drink, if any of the heirs come up to you to talk then speak, don't embarrass me," the lord walked away, leaving Y/n completely alone in an unknown environment.

After thinking for a while, Y/n skirted down the corridor and then onto one of the castle's balconies. The view was magnificent: the harbour, the ships, the sun setting on the horizon. This view was not comparable to what the girl saw at her place, in fact she had no windows in her room. It was always dark and cold.

She covered her eyes but immediately opened them as soon as she felt a strange smell, it was sweet and juicy, as if there was a sweet fruit in front of her eyes that she wanted to bite. She turned round and her heart stopped beating. Jackairis Velarion stood before her.

"May I join your silence, my lady?" he asked, slowly approaching.

" yes, of course," the girl said quietly.

She looked straight into the guy's eyes, they were brown, but...she could also see red reflections in them that appeared and disappeared.

"Why did you leave?" he enquired to get rid of the awkward silence.

"I'm not used to being at events like this. I'm nervous, to be honest," the girl grinned and leaned her hands relaxedly on the stone railing of the balcony.

"I understand, my lady, I get tired of them too. That's why my little brother rarely attends them. But my sisters just love the fun and the noise. They're dancing in the hall right now," he smiled, and Y/n was embarrassed.

"You...I... " Y/n tried to think of a topic of conversation, but nothing came to mind.

The prince chuckled. He couldn't look at the girl in red, in his head they had lived for several thousand years, they had five...no! seven...no! ten children.

"I didn't ask your name," the guy mentioned.

"My name is Y/n Y/l/n, Lord Y/l/n's eldest daughter," the girl bowed.

"Your little sister...she's not sick, is she?" he asked immediately and he could hear the girl's heart beating fast.

"She...no...she's just," the lady tried to come to her senses and think of something.

"Look at me," the prince reached out to Y/n and lifted her chin.

Y/n looked at the prince and froze, her ears popped, her breathing became quiet and steady, her eyes were covered by a bright veil from behind which she saw the prince's red eyes.

"Tell me the truth. Where is your sister?" he ran his hand gently down the girl's cheek.

"She has gone with her stepmother to the second estate. She is not ill, but shocked by the letter the queen sent. I am her replacement. I didn't want to come here, I was forced," the girl said in a cold tone, Y/n wanted to scream but couldn't, she didn't want to say it! What's going on!!!?

"Don't be afraid Y/n, I won't hurt you. You are under my spell, it's what our kind can do. We can make a person tell the truth or, we can command them to do an order, for example: my love, take my hand and press it to your chest," the prince uttered the last phrase, he didn't really mean to say 'to your chest', if his blood flowed like a normal person, his lady could see his red face.

Y/n felt the heat come up to her cheeks. This was exciting! She took the prince's other hand and pressed it against her chest, where her heart beat.

"Like this. Your heart is beating fast. Are you scared?" Jace lifted his hand higher.

"I'm excited... "the girl whispered softly.

"Are you afraid I'll bite you? I won't do that unless you ask me to," the prince moved closer.

"I don't want you to kill me," for a moment all feeling came back to the girl and she tried to break free, but the Prince's grip tightened and he soaked her again.

"What if I told you I don't want to kill you. I want you to be my partner, my princess and future queen," he whispered the words into the girl's lips.

"I don't believe you," just as monotonously.

"Then, I'll do my best to make you believe. Let me kiss you, just one kiss as proof," the pair's lips almost touched, but Y/n didn't respond.

He grinned and nestled his lips against the girl's soft lips. Immediately the buzzing in her ears disappeared, her vision and breathing normalised again, but Y/n didn't pull away, only pressed herself closer to the prince. Again that smell that was driving the girl crazy.

He touched the girl's lips gently and weightlessly, sucking on her upper and lower lips. Then, opening his mouth slightly, he ran his tongue along the girl's lower lip. Y/n immediately opened her mouth, letting the young man's hurried tongue in. The kiss constantly changed its pace, then slow, then fast, then careless. The girl knew the feeling for the first time, something warm in her lower belly and flowing down into her underwear.

He growled into the kiss, feeling the girl's wonderful ambrosia, that sweet smell starting to swirl around them. The Prince is afraid that his kin can smell it too, and they will try to steal his Maiden, out of his own hands. Jace clasped the girl tighter. He continued to entwine his tongue with his lady's, growling and whimpering slightly, the scent growing brighter and brighter. Now Jace's heat was centred down his stomach as well.

Y/n began to feel her head spinning, these emotions and this scent...where did it come from? So pleasant, sweet and spicy, wanting to inhale and inhale. The girl moaned at the prince's touch. Is it his charms? Or is it her true feelings? So shameful, but...she wants more, she wants what the maids whisper about in the manor, she wants what they teach in the Silk Streets. She pressed herself against the prince and...darkness fell.

The girl opened her eyes sharply and realised that she was in the room where she had been living for the last two days in her family estate. She jumped up from the bed and looked around. The sun was shining brightly and illuminating the room.

"Mistress, you woke up just in time," a maid named Martina, walked over to the elder mistress' bed and placed a few things on the chair next to it.

"What happened? Where is father?" her voice was slightly hoarse and the girl hurriedly drank a glass of water that was on a table nearby.

"Ser Jakor brought you in yesterday. You fainted at the ball. And your father is in his study now and wants to see you after breakfast," the maid said calmly.

Y/n was dressed in a light white dress with open shoulders. Breakfast was light, the way a girl likes it.

After breakfast, Ser Jakor escorted the girl to the lord's study. He knocked and announced the arrival of his daughter. There was a muffled sound, "let her in." And the knight opened the door.

"Why did you want to see me?" went straight to the subject Y/n.

"Did you communicate with the eldest prince yesterday?" asked the Lord, still staring at the papers in front of him.

Y/n felt her face begin to burn. Has he seen us? Does he know about this? What to do!!!

"Yes," the girl said quickly.

"Jakor, hand it over," the man pushed a black envelope towards the knight.

Once the envelope was handed over, Y/n looked at it closely. It was an unusual black envelope with drawings of flowers, the letter had been opened, most likely the lord had decided to see who it was from, because the envelope bore the name of the eldest lady of House Y/l/n, though it was barely visible. But the girl looked at the Targaryen family crest on the gold seal, the girl's heart sank, she pulled out the envelope and read a few lines. Queen Rhaenyra wrote and demanded a meeting with Y/n Y/l/n, at the end there was only one phrase: You are the perfect candidate.

"I don't know how long the queen will keep you, but I have ordered the maids to gather some of your wardrobe. You will be sent to Red Castle, we can't keep the Queen waiting!" the man finally looked at his daughter.

"Father..." the girl began.

"I don't care what happens to you. Your fate is essentially sealed. That's the way it should be, Y/n, you were a mistake and fate presented me with a chance to get rid of her," the man spoke coldly.

"What if they let me go?" the girl asked, looking angrily at her father again.

"This will be a great disappointment. But I'll take you back, you'll live here as before. Now get on your way. The queen wanted to share a meal with you," waved the lord and burrowed into the papers again.

Y/n sighed and left the room. She was filled with a thousand emotions. It was scary and exciting at the same time, she would meet the prince again, but...she already knew what she would be to him.

With heavy thoughts, the girl walked down to the ground floor. She watched her things being loaded. Y/n took one last look at Y/n's estate, smiled sadly, and got into the carriage. Her fate was now in someone else's hands.

Ps: I'm not good at writing intimate scenes...well...I think the second chapter will take a long time to come out because I want to write it right. In a way that's breathtaking.

[nica-my-beloved]

Things I Love and Dislove About Ikemen Games

These are my opinions!

CONTAINS ADULT CHARACTERS

You don't know how much this means to me because most of the time I try finding shoujo mangas I end up with stories that involve high school kids.

I'm a die heart fan of demon romance but majority of the shoujo manga that explores supernatural beings involves a 1000 year old demon king falling in love with a 16 year old high school girl. This sickens me not only because of the age gap but one of the party is a freaking minor.

As an adult, I'm so happy the Ikemen Games doesn't involve younger characters or at least characters that are 'minor' as a romantic partner.

MC's ONLY JOB IS TO SIMPLYFY THE STORY

I have said this before, MCs are just props to simplify the story and characters to us because the writers think we're too dumb to understand what the character is saying. They're like Paimon so that we don't use our braincells to understand the characters better.

I wish they didn't do that and have MCs backstories that describes their personality. I mean, all the MCs want to 'prove' to the male leads that they wanna be 'strong' but I'm tired of this trope.

Why does MCs have to always be innocent and prove themselves? Why does she always want to 'understand' the male leads? Can't we...for once have a romance that doesn't involve MCs teaching male leads true love?

Also STOP give MCs odd jobs! Book stall employee...letter carrier? I mean who is happy and satisfied doing this? How about giving the high-paying jobs like Auditor or Businesswoman or Scientist or etc etc...I know Mai is a fashion designer and businesswoman and Mitsuki is a travel agent turned maid. Alice is a baker and Yoshino is a pharmacist. The only MCs that continues to follow the path of their dreams is Mai and Yoshino.

MATURE ROMANCE

I enjoy seeing two adults slowly fall in love.

There is something different about teenagers falling in love vs adults falling in love. The romance is more realistic. They don't talk about how they're gonna plan their future together or which college they're going to go instead their chat is much more deep and that's refreshing.

NO BAD ENDINGS

Happy endings are nice. Everyone deserves one! But when there are no bad endings, the story won't have stakes.....and when there are no stakes, I can't take any gunshot sounds, blank screen and MCs saying 'Is this the end?' seriously.

Just stop being cowards writers! Put some bad endings!!

FAIR SHARE OF ROMANCE

Although I have played my fair share of Maiden games, majority of them are not that romantic.

I love cute romance moments to lighten up the mood and I really need them. Ikemen games delivers that too well....way too well...

I do have some criticism for random steamy scenes, I don't mind as long as they have context and mood.

The story is not so story focused all the time and also has time for mischievous romance which I like! It helps in calming me down and enjoy at the same time.

BULLSHIT GACHA SYSTEM AND NON-EXISTING GRINDING SYSTEM (Not very F2P friendly)

Even though Genshin's gacha system is shit (you need mf 90 wishes to get a guaranteed 5 star and 180 wishes to get the limited 5 star you want!) I still think it's ways better than the gacha system of these Ikemen Games.

Yes I agree that both the games are different in genre, one is an open world anime rpg and other is a maiden game with gacha mechanics. But that doesn't mean that I have to always pay to buy limited gacha tickets!! At least genshin gives us an open world to explore and grind primos (even though its time consuming)

Yes they do give limited tickets when you enter an event or complete the mission board but that's only ONE TICKET and you need 50 LIMITED TICKETS to get your guaranteed limited 5 star card. On the other hand, they give out many standard tickets but what am I gonna do with it if they aren't gonna update the standard banner?

These games are NOT F2P friendly and if you wanna...like say, want rank no.1 in an event you'd have to save a lot of items.

Ofc I know about the subscription thing and you do indeed get a lot of items, but the most essential thing for me is limited gacha tickets and diamonds because I wanna collect as many beautiful cards as possible and you don't get them from these monthly subscriptions. It's a waste of $5 very month. I'd rather buy a nice hair care or skin care items from that.

INTERESTING SETTINGS

I have my criticism in some of their stories but I can't deny that I LOVEE their story settings. Their premise for each game is solid to the point it makes me wanna actually try it.

This is something I find very rare in 'shoujo' genre.

For example, I don't like Vampire themed games because they suck! (both figuratively and literally) but Ikemen Vampire interests me because they take real historical figures and makes them vampire, which is a really cool idea! You don't know but I'd die to get myself in situation like that because it would be an honor to meet some great historical figures, chat with them and make them lose all their brain cells just like me. I would die to meet especially Isaac Newton and grill him for making those torturous physics theories that gave me brain tumors in my school.

Very cool setting! I can't wait to see what's in store for us in the future!!!

EVENTS ARE INSANELY BORING

I've never enjoyed a single story event from Ikemen Villains. They are boring and makes me fall asleep immediately at chapter 1. I think that kinda spread to Ikemen Prince because I barely open Ikemen Prince app now.

I honestly don't find the stories of these events interesting at all. It always feels like 'I have seen this before' maybe in some other game or some other manga.

And the Collections events.....yeah, I hate them! I wish they never existed!!! They keep the fan-loved characters at the butt-end of the list where 90% of the players don't even make it unless they burn their whole month's salary. I know that's why they do these anniversary elections because I bet if Sariel was the most voted character, his story would have been the most expensive one to get.

VERY LIKEABLE MALE LEADS

This is a personal thing but I love charismatic male leads a lot! Male leads with a lot of suave and beauty! Yes I care about these things when I play gacha games okay! I play gacha games to look at hot guys (because I know I'm never gonna get one in real life!)

But I also love that the devs puts an effort to make them feel good too. So I wanna give a shoutout to them!!! 'KEEP GOING!!! JUST DON'T MAKE TRIGGERING MEN WHO SAYS 'I'LL KILL YOU'!!!

[two-white-butterflies]

poison from the same vine | d. targaryen

Description: Lady Alicent's sister visits the capital, and has the chance to witness the Rogue Prince in a tournament. Pairing: daemon targaryen/hightower!reader

Alicent's younger sister was kinder and softer than most - it was said that she spent most of her days knitting by the fire and learning history. She's never stepped foot inside the Capital - and she's spent most of her life in Oldtown - no one has seen her face. And thus, Daemon Targaryen couldn't stop thinking about her.

He wanted something he couldn't have.

"Lady Hightower, may I ask for your favor?" he gazed up at the royal box - eyes moving back and forth between his niece and his light.

To his surprise it wasn't her that stood up - but her sister, Alicent. A small laugh exits his mouth, although he tries his best to hide the amusement. "I was asking for the pretty one," he mused - eyes drifting to lock with hers.

Brown honey orbs - of no dragon blood, and yet he's craving it more.

She stands up frantically, hands shaking as she reaches to give her favor. "Thank you," she whispers - watching as his body moves away from view. Her father has warned her about him - and of his kind.

He was a trap set to lure maidens away from their dignity. She wasn't going to fall for his antics - nay, she wouldn't be like the rest.

Daemon was drawn to her avoidant demeanor, always ignoring him with a pink hue on her cheeks. She was trying to hide her obvious infatuation, but he knows all about her coyness.

All maidens were the same, after all. "Lady Hightower," he calls out to her - smirking as she pauses, before turning around to face him. Those fucking brown eyes that prompted him to do anything she asks. He couldn't believe that he was actually falling.

"My prince," she bowed - keeping her eyes away from his unlaced tunics. It was the dead of the night - a respectable maiden shouldn't be found roaming with another lord. "Where are you going?" he inquired, with the full intent to follow her.

"The libraries, my lord." she looked at the floor, a shy little thing - but he'd change that soon. "This late?" he added.

"I could not sleep, my prince." she breathed, hoping that he'd leave her soon. She was aware that her father had spies everywhere - she's be sent back to Oldtown if he finds out about the Rogue Prince. "A lucky coincidence, I couldn't sleep too." he persisted - amused at the small changes in her features.

She was annoyed by his presence - he liked that.

"I'll escort you to the library then," he concluded, placing his hands around her shoulders and walking towards the library with a smug grin. "You don't have to," she whispers - walking beside him.

The library was the closest thing to her home.

It smelt like paper and candles, and to her luck - there's wasn't anyone else to share it with.

"I'll be going now," he leaned on the door frame, unable to place himself deeper inside the girl's space without risk of sending her away. "You can stay," she smiled - walking towards her favorite table.

"I've been meaning to ask about Old Valyria," she explained, patting the empty spot beside her. He walks slowly - cautiously, like he was catching a grazing doe. "You fancy history?" he asked, opening the pages of a torn book.

"Yes." she smiled, eyes twinkling with delight.

She certainly didn't give a fuck about decorum. Daemon soon realized that his lady only cared about her father's opinion. She didn't mind the rumors spreading about her - if she was able to extract what she needed.

Six months.

Six turns of the moon, was all it took for him to know her.

And god, he did love knowing her.

"Ōños, (light)" she recited with her eyes closed, remembering all the words that he taught her. "The lighthouse in Oldtown shines meleqeldlie," she translated and a smile grazes the Rogue Prince's lips. "kasta, (green)" he corrected while moving a stand of her hair away from her face.

"It's hard," she complained - burying her face on the book. "Valyrīha iksis gevie, (Valyrian is beautiful)" he retorted, face moving closer to hers. "Beautiful and difficult," she chuckled - face away from the book and staring deep into his purple hues.

"Aōha laesi issi gevie, (your eyes are beautiful)" she complimented with a small whisper. "Shall we trade eyes?" he raised an eyebrow.

She replied with a faint giggle.

@watercolorskyy

[starcrossedbrothers]

alternative idea inspired by the rosier twins headcanon: rosier step-siblings

Evan’s father, Rosier sr., is a french wizard and the younger brother of Druella Rosier. After they graduate from beauxbatons, Druella marries an english aristocrat, Cygnus Black, and moves to England where she has three daughters. Rosier sr., on the other hand, falls in love with a beautiful witch he went to school with, marries her and stays in France where they have a son named Evan. Four years later, Evan’s mother dies in childbirth, and the baby also dies (I don’t think wizards, especially traditional pureblood types, would be open-minded about muggle medical practices, which means no c-sections. if there’s a complication, it’s common for the mother and/or child to die. very victorian) leaving Evan alone with his father, who responds to his grief over the death of his wife by shutting himself away, either at work or in his office drinking. Evan is raised by nannies and housekeepers, having no other family nearby and not allowed to play with other children. Evan’s father, who wasn’t that great before his wife died, only interacts with Evan to scrutinize and control all of his actions and choices, partly protective over his remaining child and partly just an abusive control freak. And Evan’s a lonely child, and learns how to be alone young.

During those years, Druella, Evan’s aunt, is constantly trying to get her brother to move to England where she is—their parents are long dead and they are each other’s remaining blood family. Also, she kind of sucks to me but is also concerned for her brother. Eventually, when Evan is eight, Rosier Sr. gives in and they move to England, where he meets one Penelope Lovegood, an aristocratic pureblood witch, wealthy and recently widowed, with a young daughter (yes Lovegood is Pandora's maiden name to me. let Xenophilius take her name. I think he'd do it). Cue a fast and whirlwind romance that ends in a quick marriage a few months later, making Evan and Pandora, both eight years old, step siblings (!).

And Evan is really shy and kind of odd because he’s never really been around children or many people and hasn’t been socialized. And Pandora is supposed to be the Lovegood Angel, mostly because her mother is generally well-liked and Pandora is a little adorable blonde girl who knows how to smile and stay quiet at gatherings. BUT Pandora is Pandora: at eight years old, she spends most of her time either reading/writing wild stories and plays based off weird/gruesome myths and trying to summon demons or raise the dead in her backyard. So obviously Evan and Pandora are fast friends and quickly become inseparable <3

[urhoneycombwitch]

omf i need to hear more about this background with prince!steve and prince!eddie

reader is destined to marry prince!steve in an arranged marriage but she falls into love with his brother prince!eddie

gonna expand on this I love the concept… so in my canon reader is the daughter of the court’s hired soothsayer. you’ve lived at the castle for most of your life, on the outskirts of Stephen and Eddie’s lives for years.

crossing paths every so often, in the kitchen and out in the courtyards. brief scuffles, joking exchanges with them both, but most of all: you were drawn to the boy with chocolate brown eyes and black ringlets that bounced like a living entity on his pretty head. every time he winked at you it was like lighting prickling at your fingertips!! ⚡️💕

one day you were old enough, at 13, to start as a ladies’ maid for Lady Robin, a cousin from the Harrington house. you and her became fast friends (if perhaps a better friend than her parents would hope for someone of non-royal status) and your bedroom was moved to be across from her own chambers.

so you all are besties. survive the perils of manners and etiquette classes together. grow up past teens and into young 20 something lady & her maiden who have to go to balls 🙄 and dress up fancy every time. like christ, the amount of time it takes to get corseted…

but then it starts to be fun when Prince Edward takes a real shine to you. now that he can slink off into the shadows- the King officially announce his own blood, Prince Stephen, as his successor the other week. and Eddie’s freed up to be a rascal.

and he flirts so openly with you during a dance in front of the other royals and the servants and god and everyone that Robin and Steve are like 😑👥😧 are you seeing this my lord. yes my lady. what sickening stuff this is. For real.

and they both decide silently to pull their friends aside. Steve approaches his step-brother with casual jovial nature, slinging his hand around the younger prince’s shoulders like heyyyyy brother. hey bro. you absolutely cannot fall for the freaky witch’s kid. you know that’s fucked up, right? And Eddie’s like what the hell 👁️👁️ why would you say that. I’m not in love with her. Obviously Not.

and as Robin braids your hair before bed later that night she’s like listen… I’m just telling you what Steve told me. but apparently Prince Edward sold mushrooms to that Henderson stableboy for a farthing telling him they were “good dream shrooms”. but all he did was give that poor kid an irritable stomach. I don’t think Edward is a good guy.

and you’re like… that’s kind of funny… no? okay well anyways. I so don’t have a crush on him. why are you even bringing it up.

[biteofcherry]

Sacred Hunt CURTIS

What would be next for them?

Ahh, I love how much love The Sacred Hunt Curtis is gaining 🥰

It may come as a surprise, but you and Curtis get your own version of happy ending. Domestic life, though in rather harsh conditions of hard work to survive. With Curtis being titled The Hunter of decade, he received many offerings that definitely help you out through the winter and into the next harvest season. Which is a blessing, truly, because pregnancy often makes you fall asleep in the middle of the day.

Yes, you're definitely pregnant before the first snow falls. Curtis hunts were always precise, but merciful, but now he's trying extra hard to make it clean, so he can procure lush furs for you. Anything to keep you comfortable and warm during the late autumn and winter.

There's a little grain of salt around the time of Yule festivities.

Hunting is mostly done, everyone has stocked up on preserves. It does happen, but not as actively as in other seasons. But winter is the time to train younger hunters. More and more girls and young women join these trainings. And you've noticed how one of the maidens always sticks to Curtis' side.

You try to convince yourself it's because the woman wants to be a really good hunter, especially since her older brother died last winter and she has three younger siblings to look after. Yet you can't help but feel a jab of jealousy when Curtis praises her, or mentions her skills when the two of you share a meal.

One evening, as you're weaving a Yule wreath out of evergreens, and Curtis comes back really late, you snap at him. A bitter comment falls out of your mouth, if he's going to bring another wife to your table.

Curtis (though careful of your pregnant state), roughly fucks the silly thoughts out of you.

[nami-moittli]

Currently trying to figure out a combined family tree for the 1-6 Joestars and the 7-9 joestars, even though I’m only on chapter 12 of Jojolion. Send help

I’m not done yet, mainly because I have NO CLUE how to start going about Johnny’s side of the family tree, considering how 90% of it is just reusing the 1-6 family tree until oops! The Kira’s are here now! And idk how I wanna go about doing that right now, and like I said, I’m still really early on in jojolion, so idk where gappy falls just yet, and I haven’t even touched jojolands yet, all I know is that the jojo is named Jodio Joestar and has a sister named Dragona, and that seems pretty daunting rn lol

Some notes!

Dio and Diego have the Joestar last name due to being adopted

Their mother is specifically Diego’s mother because we have much more to go on for her, at least from what I’ve seen

Her name is Anne because in jojolion it says that George I’s wife’s name was Anne, but I’m pretty sure that Mary is Jona’s mom’s name, so the name has been gifted to the Brandos

Also nicknames don’t show up so imagine that it’s either their nicknames or just the Roman numerals for how many times the name has repeated (ex. Johnny instead of Jonathan (II), Lisa Lisa instead of Elizabeth, George II, Tomoko II, Norisuke IV, etc)

Lucy is Lucy Steel because I find it funny and her maiden name is Pendleton, so I like to think that she’s actually named after Erina’s mom

Yes this means that all of Jona and Eri’s children are named after other people, George II, Jonathan II and Lucy II

No I don’t know how Steven Steel plays into this

Josuke’s donor conceived, so Joseph is technically still his bio dad n stuff and Josuke’s an actual Joestar

Also since this is purely for me, really, imagine Yukako as siblings with Josuke bc I love Yukasuke twins. I did go back and add her in, but then you weren’t able to see everyone on the family tree nicely anymore, so just imagine she’s there

George II and Nicholas have been condescend into one character, feel free to imagine his full name as George Nicholas Joestar II

In the panels of JoJolion I used to get the Higashikatas family tree, it mentioned a few unnamed siblings, due to their lack of importance they have been erased from existence. Who knows, maybe they still exist but I did not add them

Same goes for Johnny’s family tree, for when I get to it

Marina is like, the only non canon name on this list, unless you include Anne but even then I got it from a different character

No idk how some things would play out due to this shift (ex. Sbr) this is mainly just for fun

Ryohei is younger than Norisuke IV, I just didn’t feel like going to the trouble of fixing it and swapping their places around

I… think that’s it? I’ll probably go back and update this eventually with Johnny’s family, and if Lucy ends up with children or anything and where ever the fuck Gappy, Jodio and Dragona end up, but for now this is it

Also thank you to these panels from JoJolion:

Also bonus Johnny family tree:

[rayssion]

Guys, guys!!

Imagine like 4000 years later where human civilization developed or retreated I don't care it's not necessary.

Imagine if all sources of greek mythology vanished or died with the years, and as much as we depend on Homer's Iliad and Odyssey now people on the future find PERCY JACKSON and the other Rick Riordan serieses as the only source of mythological knowledge!!

They'd read the books and imagine that those are the gods we believe in now and they'd think that Percy and the other demigods are real,

And couple of millennia later, Rick Riordan's books were destroyed or lost so people only told the stories verbally for centuries,

And as stories go they got deformed!! Imagine people after so so many years thinking Percy and the other demigods are like super super heroes whom are like much stronger than your local demigods yet still below gods, and then further deformation happens!!

And people start to think that the demigods are the gods!!

Now please, imagine.... imagine!

Percy, god of the sea, water, storms, hurricanes, earthquakes and horses. (I can see him becoming the new king of the gods btw)

Jason, god of the sky, lightning and thunder, law and order.

Nico, god of death, shadows, ghosts and spirits. King of the underworld.

Annabeth, goddess of wisdom, handicraft, and warfare.

Piper, goddess of love, pleasure, passion, procreation, fertility, beauty and desire.

Frank, god of war, violence, bloodshed and manly virtues.

Leo, god of fire, master blacksmith and craftsman of the gods; god of the forge, craftsmanship, invention and volcanoes.

Will, god of the sun, of light, prophecy, philosophy, archery, truth, inspiration, poetry, music, arts, manly beauty, medicine, healing, and plague.

Thalia, goddess of the hunt. the wilderness, virginity, the Moon, archery, childbirth, protection and plague.

And I'd like to add!!

Dakota, god of wine, the grapevine, fertility, festivity, ecstasy, madness and resurrection

Rachel, goddess of family and marriage, women and childbirth.

Hazel, goddess of earth and riches. Princess of the underworld and younger sister of Nico, King of the underworld.

Conner, god of traps, diplomacy, thieves, games and the guide of dead souls.

Travis, messenger of the gods; god of travel, commerce, communication, borders and eloquence.

Meg, Goddess of the harvest, fertility, agriculture, nature and the seasons.

Reyna, Goddess of the hearth, fire and of the right ordering of domesticity and the family, and also goddess of war.

Yes, they have 16 gods!!

I don't know what to name them but it has to be a cool name, like we got the Titans and the Olympians so it has to be cool.

Also imagine if like the Olympian gods we have now being translated to future generations as the bad guys (like how we have Kronos and Gaea now) and like the demigods gods (cuz I still don't know what to name them) are the forces of good that protect humanity, because they need humans to worship them of them to exist obviously.

So this generation of demigods gods are like nice gods for once!! They care for their children and the people under their wings!!

Best things as follows:

Percy, the god of the sea, is married to Annabeth, goddess of wisdom and war strategy.

Nico, god of death and the underworld, is married to Will, god of the sun and music.

Jason, god of the sky, is married to Leo, god of fire and crafts.

Frank, god of war, is married to Hazel, goddess of earth and riches.

Reyna, goddess of the hearth and war, is married to Thalia, goddess of the hunt.

Conner and Travis are the new twins and Rachel, goddess of family and marriage, is a sworn maiden because she wills her powers to maintain other relationships either between gods or between mortals.

Dakota on the other hand, doesn't like to be restrained as much as a mad person could go.

In this world there's nothing called being a maiden so as to be a hunter, bullshit I'm telling you, goddess Thalia herself is married.

Piper, the goddess of love and beauty knows best than to fall in love. Meg is one of the young gods, still closed in her bulb.

Also pffft, Thanatos who? I'm sure Nico can manage it all.

Another generation of demigods arise within no god is whoring around, the gods observe mortals and seek potential within them and when a god catches a mortal child leveling up to their preferences they claim them as a sort of blessing and take them under their wings.

The camps theme is surly still there, merged into one camp because one for some reason humans are less, and two because there's nothing called greek and roman gods anymore, only one version.

Demigods still go on quests, and as we know gods can't directly help them but they always make sure not to use mortals unless it's necessaity, and they try to help as much as they can.

I'd really love to live in a world like that! This post started off as a little imagine then quickly turned into world building, lol.