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BLOOD AND BONES | davos blackwood

CHAPTER : PREFACE

MASTERLIST

paring : davos blackwood x f!original character

summary : when queen rhaenyra’s letter left unanswered, she had no choice but to send the young lord from house blackwood to compromise the infamous house lairwyn, whose rumours haunted the riverlands for centuries — a mission which led to an arranged marriage between the two houses.

a/n : basically i’m not confident enough abt my knowledge to create an oc from the already existed houses so i’m trying to be creative (do i actually know what i’m doing?) i separate benjicot and davos in my writing depends on the story and the role they’re performing for their house. pls excuse me if any of these are inaccurate for asoiaf universe.

word counts : 393

warnings : original house and characters. dark theme. mentioned of death. implied of vampire history. arranged marriage. eventual smut.

HISTORY

House Lairwyn of Bloodstone was an old forgotten house located in the Riverlands. Their seat was at the Bloodstone, an old eerie looking castle with a resemblance of a bat’s figure, their symbol. The Lairwyn sigil was a black bat with blood on its mouth in front of two crossed swords upon a dark taupe escutcheon.

They earned their reputation and served the realm as executioners of kings, hence their words “commander of death”, but its meaning was beyond that. After they retired from their positions, they were simply strange people with no apparent reason to socialize and slowly disappeared from watchful eyes.

REPUTATION

Other than their history of beheading people and so, they also earned a frightful reputation in riverlands as well. House Lairwyn had a very oddly small number of generations of descendants compared to other houses in the realm, given the fact that their house was as ancient as others. According to their closer companions, each member of their blood had lived a very strangely long life since their founder lord Sander Lairwyn who lived until the age of hundred and two.

Rumours spreaded all over the realm of their dreadful custom that had been the secret of their long life. Bloodsuckers they called them, savages in the form of noble lords and ladies who tortured the living and took their hearts out to feed themselves. With lack of proof, they remained unimportant and unapproachable for others until this day.

APPEARANCE

For their appearance, the Lairwyn were known for their sickly pale skin in contrast to their thick black hair. Through the whispers of riverlands they were described to have two fangs stuck out of their mouths and sharp long nails which contributed to their infamous alias as heart-rippers.

DANCE OF THE DRAGONS

It was important that each house participated in this war whether they wanted to or not. During the war, house Lairwyn had only two remaining members left in line — lord Carlos Lairwyn and his younger sister, lady Celia. Ravens were sent to the lord of Bloodstone from both queen Rhaenyra and king Aegon, asking them to choose their side or meet with fire and blood. But what would they choose if blood and fire were what they desired at most?

REMANING MEMBERS

꒱࿐ Lord Carlos Lairwyn of Bloodstone.

꒱࿐ Lady Celia Lairwyn of Bloodstone.

READ CHAPTER ONE NOW

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This morning I was made aware that one of my readers sent a link to one of my fanfics to another tumblr user, requesting them to make a character AI bot based on it. That user did it.

Please don't do that. Please don't put my works into AI, please don't send other people my works for them to put into AI.

It broke my heart because this story is very precious to me. Many of you loved it and I've spent entire evenings discussing it with you, answering asks and messages about it.

If you loved that story and want more, please send an ask. You may ask questions, headcanons, once someone even asked me to rewrite a paragraph from another point of view as part of an ask game.

Please interact with your fandom creators instead of feeding their works to AI.

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lol. i totally have the draft for that benjicot fic w me. i totally know its gonna post soon. i totally just need to sit down and finish it.

[writervaul-t]

— 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞;

☾ Pairing: Kaji Ren x f!reader

☾ Word Count: 1.1k

☾ A/N: inspired by satoru nii's note on kaji getting his headphones as a gift also i am simply down bad

“How come he never takes that shit off?” Sakura mutters, mostly to himself, pausing on the uneven sidewalk to adjust the weight on his back. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows over the bustling street, the chatter of vendors and the hum of passing bikes filling the air.

“Hmmm?” The granny—Chiyoko, as she’s always insisting he call her but he can never bring himself to—leans slightly to peer over his shoulder, her sharp eyes following his line of sight. Her gray hair flutters in the gentle breeze, tickling his cheek.

Across the narrow street, past the stalls piled high with fresh produce, ones Sakura knows Umemiya likes to frequent, Kaji and his vice-captains are strolling down the sidewalk in their direction. Kaji's got his hands buried deep in his pockets, mouth set in its usual stern expression, a lollipop dangling lazily from between his lips. His white headphones sit snugly over his ears, their metallic sheen catching the light. They're always spotless, Sakura notes, as if Kaji takes painstaking care of them.

“His headphones!" Sakura grumbles. "He’ll go deaf at this rate.”

“Ah," Chiyoko muses, her voice laced with amusement, "but wouldn’t you also treasure something so precious to you? Young love...so sweet."

Sakura’s brows knit together. “The hell you mean ‘young love’?”

The granny fully ignores him. "I remember back in my day-"

"Hold on, the fuck you mean- sorry, I mean-"

Before Sakura can keep gracing Chiyoko with his colorful vocabulary, something cuts him off.

“Rennn!”

The sound of hurried footsteps and the unmistakable brightness in the voice snaps Sakura’s attention to the source. His head whirls around, and he freezes.

A girl.

You.

You're a pretty thing, pleated uniform skirt hiked up just a tad bit too short for school regulations. It flutters around your thighs, exposing an expanse of skin that has Sakura blushing right down to his toes. He quickly tears his gaze away.

Instead, he watches, stunned, as Kaji slows his pace and reaches up, fingers curling to hook his headphones down to his neck. He stands there, hands dropping to his sides, palms open as if he's expecting something.

And then...the most inexplicable thing happens.

You launch yourself forward, into the notoriously bad-tempered second-year’s arms, your own arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

“Ren! Missed you so much!”

“Huh?” Sakura whips his head around to gawk at Chiyoko to make sure she’s seeing the same thing he is. “Huuuh?”

The granny on his back just beams, eyes crinkling, like this is something she's seen happen a thousand times.

Kaji barely reacts to the impact of you. He plants his feet, arms coming around your waist, steady and sure. If there's one thing Sakura has learned, it’s that the blonde is deceptively strong. From his angle, Sakura can see the faintest hint of color rise to Kaji's cheeks, a subtle shift masked by the tilt of his head.

A soft jangling sound captures Sakura’s attention and he zeros in on the charm dangling from your backpack. It looks vaguely familiar and he squints, trying to place it. Then it hits him- he’s seen it before, a matching charm clipped to Kaji’s rarely-used bag. The trinket is small and undeniably cutesy, in sharp contrast to Kaji's abrasive personality, which is what had drawn Sakura's attention to it in the first place.

“Oi,” Kaji snaps, tightening his hold around your waist, but his voice lacks the usual bite Sakura has come to associate the blonde with. “Be careful.”

You pout, playful and unabashed. “Aw, but I knew you’d catch me.”

“Still.” Kaji eyes you. His fingers brush against the hem of your skirt, tugging it down slightly. “And this—”

You cut him off with a practiced ease, plucking the lollipop from his mouth and popping it into yours.

"Oi!"

“Yeah, yeah,” you say breezily, leaning your head against his shoulder. “It’s too short, other guys will mess with me, blah blah blah. But I’m not worried, because my big bad boyfriend will take care of any problems, won’t he?”

Kaji's lips twitch as though he wants to argue, but nothing comes out. Instead, what looks like the faintest smile slips onto them, though it’s gone in the blink of an eye.

“Hi, Kusumi-chan, Enomoto-chan!” you lean back slightly in Kaji's arms, tilting your head so you can see the other boys who have been smirking at each other the entire time. Sensing their silent amusement, Kaji snaps his head around, fixing them with a pointed glare. Their expressions transform immediately into pictures of innocence and they greet you enthusiastically, clearly charmed by you.

“Good t’see ya as always,” Takeshi grins broadly. “Still keepin’ our captain on his toes?”

“Someone has to,” you quip, swirling the lollipop stick between your fingers before slipping it from your lips. Kaji’s gaze flickers downward, tracking the motion, lingering a beat too long on your lips.

You tug at the headphones around Kaji's neck. “Still taking good care of these, huh? Never takes them off, does he, Enomoto-chan?”

“Well,” Takeshi says with a teasing grin, “they’re special. Given by someone even more special.”

“Shut up,” Kaji mutters, ears faintly pink, though he doesn’t refute it. He's still staring down at your lips, though his gaze flickers back up to meet yours when you reach a hand up.

“Aw," you smile sweetly at him, brushing a finger through the bangs covering his forehead, "I'm glad you're still putting them to good use."

"Tch." Kaji's gaze darts away but returns to you almost just as quickly.

Sakura sputters, completely thrown off by the revelation that the reason behind the permanent fixture on Kaji Ren’s head...is you. Dumbfounded, he watches you continue to shower Kaji—the same boy he's seen coldly pummel opponents to a pulp with the harshest of scowls—with affection. But none of that brutality is visible now. Instead, Kaji holds you with an unexpected tenderness, as if you’re something delicate, something precious to him.

You let out a long, almost aggrieved sigh, and Sakura can’t help but wonder if you’re starting to tire of giving without getting anything in return from the blonde.

“Why're you so handsome?” you pout, sliding a finger down the bridge of Kaji's nose until it rests gently over his lips. “It’s just so unfair.”

Sakura chokes on his own spit.

Kaji doesn’t reply to that at all. Perhaps he doesn’t know how to. The tips of his ears are an unmistakeable flaming red now.

And then, as if on instinct, he leans down. The movement is quick, almost imperceptible. But it's enough signal for you apparently, because you close the gap by pressing your lips to his, winding your arms around his neck tighter and relaxing into his hold.

Sakura feels his brain grind to a complete halt.

“As I said,” Chiyoko hums behind him with a knowing smile. Her short legs swing happily against Sakura's sides. “Young love.”

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Are you still writing for ‘something about you’? I’m loving the series so far and I’ve been waiting for a new update lol

hi! i am still writing it yes. i had to take a pause on writing for a couple months due to some personal matters but things have settled down so i'm navigating my way back to my stories now. please stay tuned and enjoy what's to come soon :)

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a favor

synopsis: maeryn is given a task that she is not able to refuse

pairing: no pairing for now :)

note: this takes place outside of canon and if the dance ended with aegon forfeiting early on. this is also purely self indulgent; i've got my own little world going on with my hotd cos lol.

The warmth of Vaela's room could have put Maeryn to sleep, had she not been in the certain circumstances she's in. She stood at the foot of her aunt's bed and watching the rays of light shine against Vaela's hollow cheeks.

Vaela seemed to have been examining her as well, taking in Maeryn's clothing today - the top of her pink robes was loose and held together by a white skirt with a pink belt. Her dark hair had been gathered with a pink ribbon at the nape of her neck.

Simple and easy to move in. Nothing like the gaudy fabrics and updo she had flown in on and had to loosen off of Starlyte's horns during their flight to Westeros.

"You've grown." Vaela finally says, offering a weak smile.

"Did the long hair or the sudden growth spurt from one to five feet within sixteen years give it away?" Maeryn asks, receiving a huffed laugh from the older woman.

"Sharp tongue. Its no wonder they didn't put you in with the Temple of Ghost."

Maeryn snorts. "I'd sooner take practice with the Ghosts before the Soothsayers..." She murmurs before covering her mouth, cheeks turning as pink as her eyes. "Sorry - I hadn't meant it that way."

Vaela shook her head, amusement playing in her tired eyes. "No apologies necessary. If I'd known how boring being a Soothsayer was, I would have chosen something else."

Maeryn opened her mouth, but closed it again, not ready to protest that she hadn't chosen to become a Soothsayer because it was boring - it frightened her. The rituals were unsettling enough to attend to but to be the one to prepare and initiate with past lives and relatives? It made the pit in her stomach drop. Magic paid heavy prices and Soothsayers still practiced without any fear. It was brave but stupid all the same.

A wave of coughs from Vaela brought her back to reality. Maeryn moved toward her but was stopped by Vaela putting her hand up, the natrualistic urge of following a command halting her in place and watched as the woman shakily reached for the flagon of wine beside her bed. She nearly drank the cup dry as she gulped it down, sighing in exhaustion.

"You called for me?" Maeryn reminded her after a moment of silence.

Vaela nods. "The girls are to turn five and ten in five months. I'm sure you're aware of the Ceremony, yes?"

Maeryn nods. She had only been a year older than her twin nieces and the Ceremony of Age had been her least favorite ritual so far. After all, who would ever want to choose what they want to do for the remainder of their lives at fifteen? Maeryn certainly hadn't. Not to mention, the whole process of the rituals were long and dreadfully boring.

She narrowed her eyes at the woman in the bed, who had that annoyingly undreadable smile Naexes had whenever she had something in mind. Damned Soothsayers and their calculated smiles. Maeryn had been taught to read small actions but Soothsayers were taught to supress them. Not knowing what someone needed from her made her restless.

"I'd like for you to oversee them until its time for their Selection. Train them in the practices of a Butterfly. I've asked the same from Daelyx and Naexes as well with their own training." Vaela says, to which Maeryn nodded.

That was a simple enough request; that was also probably a reason why she was sent out here besides the fact that she couldn't stand being in the Temples anymore. There wasn't anything left for her there anyways, she reminded herself darkly.

"I would also wish for you to be their escort during their visit to the Riverlands." Vaela adds, coughing into her arm.

"What?" Maeryn asks, mouth agape.

Vaela sits up straighter as she speaks. "Back in Yi Ti, we would make our way down the mountain, starting the practice of offering our hairpins as favors to those we trust most. The girls will do the same but with the houses in Westeros. Verra had given her first favor to Prince Daeron Targaryen recently however Valera wishes to give her favor to Lord Grover Tully at Riverrun. He has already been made aware of this and has prepared for a large hunt and feast."

"Why send me? Shouldn't you or Naexes attend instead?" She questions, though the answer to her first suggestion was said through another violent cough. Maeryn refilled her cup once more, ignoring Vaela's weak protest as she handed the cup to her.

"Naexes has other obligations to attend to in my stead and Daelyx is instructed to stay by her side at all costs. Should the need to ensure the girls safety arises, you are our best chances. Daelyx tells me you are skilled with your fans."

Maeryn nods, her fingers grazing the steel war fans hidden in her billowing sleeve. Skilled had been a light way to put it. Maeryn was perfect - she had been sent to the Court of Butterflies at the age of five instead of the appropriate age of ten after her father's death. She had learned fan dances and fighting stances before she was able to read. She was young, found things easier to learn. Not to mention, once a girl has entered the Court of Butterflies, they will do nothing but practice if they weren't sleeping.

Whenever someone claimed her to be a prodigy or a miracle for finishing her training before her Ceremony of Age, they were sorely mistaken. She had been in an unfortunate situation turned "fortunate" with the deal her father had struck with the madame prior to her birth. Now here she stood, at sixteen and already a sworn guard to a higher born clan member. She had not been raised to be a child; she had been raised to learn how to spy, flirt, or kill her way to learn information at the behest of her lord or lady.

"I don't trust anyone else but you." Vaela, says truthfully. "The guards here lack in something you have."

"What, a bar of soap?" Maeryn comments, remembering the stench of one of the knights being as raunchy as Starlyte after a few days of travelling. This earned a laugh in response from her aunt.

"Details." Vaela supplies. "You see them better than anyone. I saw you when you arrived on dragonback. You were watching the ones who hadn't been watching you."

Maeryn had expected as much for her to notice that, remembering Naexys warning her about not looking too much like a threat to the Westerosi. Their dragons were already enough of a threat when they had landed. Still, she had to take note of which lord or lady hadn't found their presence interesting and who found them too interesting.

It was always so easy to figure out who could pose a problem for them just from the way some avoided or even looked at Starlyte. So far, there had been an alarming rate of threats just in the Red Keep. And from the way Vaela had looked at her, she known that much as well.

Her curiosity got the best of her as she asked, "Why choose an aging lord as someone to give her favor to? Why not someone else here at court?"

"Lord Grover Tully is a kind man. He had been the only one who made the girls comfortable with their presence whenever he had visited court and even had them stay with me when I had fallen too ill and couldn't trust anyone at court yet." Vaela explains solemnly. "That was also the most I'd seen Valera happy. Like a child with their grandfather. She is also fond of many of the young lords and ladies of Riverrun so it was natural she chose the Lord Paramount over anyone else."

Maeryn nodded, understanding the sentiment. Even if she had been raised with little to no childhood, she remembered her father's siblings - Vaela and Jaenara in particular - try their best in ensuring she had some smidge of happiness before she had grown older. Memories of Vaela taking her and the twins on rides on her dragon, Sambar, months before they had left for Westeros, never to return.

Jaenara had not sired a child but was the closest thing to a mother in the Court of Butterflies. She had been the one to defend her against the madame when training had gotten too rough with her little body. Jaenara had also been the one to insist she accompany Naexys on her journey as a means of her first assignment, supporting Maeryn at every turn possible when doubts were casted.

Vaela reached a hand in her hair, the bun unfurling as she pulls out a pale purple hair pin, the base housing a flower and butterfly at the base. Snow drops were added to the pin, dangling off at the butterfly. She smiled as she handed it to Maeryn.

"This is me calling in my favor." Vaela says with a smile. "You might think you are not fit for this endeavor but I trust you the most with my girls. You understand the pair of them better than anyone else. I trust you, Maeryn."

Maeryn held her breath, not sure what to say anymore. Calling a favor for a Butterfly was important; if anything, she couldn't refuse even though she was well aware Vaela wouldn't mind her rejection. Her foot tapped impatiently on the cold stone, considering the favor and the circumstances all around.

She still hadn't believed she was the perfect fit to protect her cousin; inexperienced as a Butterfly and an even more inexperienced one in a new, unfamiliar land. Still, she had found herself watching Vaela, who had hope in her eyes, wholeheartedly trusting Maeryn's skills. Regardless, she found herself looking away in contemplation before nodding.

"As you wish, my lady. A favor is a favor."

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Benji Blackwood Masterlist

all stories below contain 18+ material and include warnings above every fic/chap

just cleaning up my main masterlist bc its feeling cluttered 😵‍💫

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

l ✧₊⁺ smut l ୨ৎ fluff l ᯓᰔ request l 𓉸ྀི angst l

benji x reader

His Princess Masterlist ✧₊⁺

His Wife Masterlist ✧₊⁺

Haunting of Riverrun ✧₊⁺ l 𓉸ྀི

What the Gods Gave Us ✧₊⁺ l ᯓᰔ l 𓉸ྀི

Command Me Part 2 ✧₊⁺ l ᯓᰔ l 𓉸ྀི

Be Mine ✧₊⁺ l ᯓᰔ l ୨ৎ

Table 13 & Cherry Pie Part 2 ✧₊⁺ l ᯓᰔ

Forbidden Flames ✧₊⁺ l ᯓᰔ l 𓉸ྀི

We're Not Kids Anymore ✧₊⁺ l ᯓᰔ

Symphony of Us ✧₊⁺ l ᯓᰔ l ୨ৎ

Your Throne ✧₊⁺ l ᯓᰔ l 𓉸ྀི

Pray That I Don't Catch You ✧₊⁺

A Way Out ᯓᰔ l 𓉸ྀི

benji x aegon x sister!wife!reader

Anniversary Gift ✧₊⁺

Sworn Protector ✧₊⁺

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist  ⏾ wips  ⏾  taglist

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Vikings Masterlist

The (*) denotes to the imagine/drabble containing smut.

Ask me to be tagged in future works 

IVAR THE BONELESS MASTERLIST

HVITSERK MASTERLIST

UBBE MASTERLIST

SIGURD SNAKE IN THE EYE MASTERLIST

BJORN IRONSIDE MASTERLIST

RAGNAR LOTHBROK MASTERLIST

HARALD FINEHAIR MASTERLIST

RAGNARSSONS X READER MASTERLIST

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Vikings Masterlist

Hvitserk Ragnarsson

A Song of Broken Shields (Series)

I'll Find You

Next Time

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MASTERLIST - Vikings Content

Once this blog was entirely turned to the Series Vikings. Now that we're opening new themes, this post is a way for you who liked my Vikings Content to keep track of my old works so you can come back in time and enjoy them one more time!

This masterlist will have content related to:

The series Vikings and its characters.

Series and side works made by Vikings Cast

Original characters in the series' universe - on demand

⁑ Anything with more than 2 chapters.

WIPs:

No WIP at the moment.

Finished:

Universe | Crossover Kriger x A Bond Between People

Et Bånd Mellem Krigere Pairing | Mads x Joy, Adrian x Reader Info | Fix It AU, crossover Kriger x A Bond Between People. ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, heavy ANGST, SMUT included, cursing, mentions of murder, blood, violence, drugs, death. Caution is recommended: the following content may be triggering.

Universe | Vikings

Curse Pairing | No pair Info | Viking Age AU, Fantasy AU ⁑ Warnings: Horror, heavy ANGST, cursing, fictional creatures, mentions of death, mutilation, black magic, murder, major character deaths, blood, and violence. +18

Face the Music Pairing | Hvitserk x Plus Size! Reader Info | Viking Age AU, Requested by @thiahilmarsdottir​⁑Warnings: ANGST, romance. Mentions of fat-shaming, betrayal. Erotic content.

For the Sake of All Pairing | Sigurd x Blaeja Info | Viking Age AU, multiple shots related to one another ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, SMUT included, Fluffy, romance, +18

His... His Only Pairing | Alfred x Reader x Ivar Info | Viking Age AU, multiple drabbles related to one another ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, SMUT included, ANGST, romance, mentions of death, burning, betrayal, and some cursing. +18

Lady of the Lake Pairing | Sigurd x OC Info | Viking Age AU, Fantasy AU ⁑ Warnings: ANGST, romance, fantasy creatures, some cursing, mentions of death, blood, violence, and some horror. +18 

Mishaps Pairing | Hvitserk x OC/Reader Info | Modern AU, Dark AU, Mobster AU, Criminal Vikings AU ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, ANGST, SMUT included, cursing, mentions of murder, blood, violence, kidnapping, betrayal, 18+

Payback Pairing | Hvitserk x Reader Info | Modern AU, Mobster AU, Criminal Vikings AU, Dark AU ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, SMUT included, ANGST, cursing, mentions of murder, rape, death, violence, abuse, drugs, and torture. +18. Caution recommended: the following content may be triggering.

Rangsælis Pairing | Ubbe x Wife! Reader Info | Viking Age AU ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, heavy ANGST, SMUT included, cursing, mentions of murder, blood, violence, rape, violence against women, heathenry, death. 18+ Caution recommended: the following content may be triggering.  

Ravished Pairing | Ubbe x Reader Info | Viking Age AU ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, SMUT included, heavy ANGST, cursing, mentions of death, murder, violence, dirty talk, torture, rape, women humiliation, and violence against women. +18. Caution recommended: the following content may be triggering.

The Wolf, The Dog, and The Maiden Pairing | Hvitserk x Reader Info | Viking Age AU ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, SMUT included, heavy ANGST, cursing, mentions of major character’s death, underage death, murder, and violence. +18. Caution recommended: the following content may be triggering.

Through & Through Pairing | Ivar x OC Info | Viking Age AU ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, heavy ANGST, SMUT included, cursing, mentions of murder, blood, violence, crimes, torture, slavery, death. Caution is recommended: the following content may be triggering.

When You Weren’t Here to See Pairing | Sigurd x Siggy Björnsðóttir Info | Viking Age AU, requested by multiple anons ⁑Warnings: Mentions of child abandonment and sensitive themes, incestuous relationship (uncle x niece), SMUT, familiar conflicts.

Wrong Choices Pairing | Sigurd x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, Werewolves AU, Alpha x Beta x Omega Dynamics ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, SMUT included, ANGST, Fluffy, romance, mentions of violence, blood, wounds, and cursing. +18

⁑ Little texts, scenes, and little fics with 1 or 2 chapters.

WIPs:

No WIP at the moment.

Finished:

Universe | Cast 

Marco Ilsø

Universe | Vikings

» Ragnarssons Team

Björn Ragnarsson

Ubbe Ragnarsson

Hvitserk Ragnarsson

Sigurd Ragnarsson

Ivar Ragnarsson

Neutral Shots

» Viking Team

Ragnar Lothbrok

Harald Finehair

Other Vikings

» Saxon Team

Alfred, the Great

Other Saxons

⁑ Masterlists for the general events of this blog: ¹For the events focused on a single character, please check the character’s personal masterlist!

2019 Holiday Event - From: Us, To: You, With Love Universe | Vikings Cooperative event with @honestsycrets​ 

Take a look at the links below and enjoy!

Ragnarssons In - Archive Part I and Part II All Ragnarssons reactions headcanons already published

Headcanons Archive - Vikings Content All Headcanons already published for Vikings

Plot List - Vikings Content List of ideas and plot starters for you guys Please, credit if use!

NSFW Prompt Challenge All drabbles published for Vikings in this kind of challenge.

Drabble Challenge All drabbles published for Vikings in this kind of challenge.

Valhalla Panel Scenes The Ragnar’s Sons went to Valhalla together and they’re now around the same table, drinking, feasting, fighting, and answering whatever you want to know!

» Followers Celebrations (Vikings content):

600 Followers Celebration Drabbles  

700 Followers Celebration Drabbles

1000 Followers Celebration Drabbles

2000 Followers Celebration Drabbles

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THE LORD’S REDEMPTION

pairing: benjicot blackwood x reader

summary: in the intricate world of Westeros, alliances are forged and broken through marriages arranged for political gain. lady y/n of house y/l/n finds herself wed to benjicot blackwood, lord of raventree hall, a union intended to strengthen ties between their noble houses. although the marriage was one of duty, y/n begins to believe that genuine affection and love are blossoming between them, especially after the birth of their first daughter. however, her world is shattered when she discovers benjicot in the arms of his childhood friend, a betrayal that cuts deep. but in the end, love and repentance prove stronger, as benjicot, on his knees, begs for her forgiveness, vowing to honor and cherish her for the rest of their days. | word count: 2,6k

warning: english is not my first language. mention of cheating, gavebirth, infidelity, angst to fluff, etc

my first benji fic, currently there is no taglist for benji, thanks my bf to co-write this with me (almost half of the fic)

The halls of Raventree Hall were alive with the sound of celebration. The feast had been lavish, the guests numerous, and the union of House Y/L/N and House Blackwood had been met with cheers and well-wishes from all who attended. But as the night wore on, and the newlywed couple retired to their chambers, the reality of their marriage settled in.

Lady Y/N stood by the window, looking out into the darkened forest that surrounded her new home. The trees of the Blackwood lands were ancient, their branches gnarled and twisted like the old stories of the Children of the Forest. She had heard the tales as a child, but now, in this strange new place, those stories felt more real than ever.

Benjicot Blackwood, her husband, was a man of few words. He had been courteous and respectful, as expected of a lord, but there had been little warmth between them. Their marriage was one of duty, an alliance between two noble houses, and Y/N knew that well. Still, there was a small part of her that longed for something more, a connection that went beyond the cold formality of politics.

As she stood lost in thought, Benjicot approached her. “It’s a beautiful night,” he said, his voice soft, as if he were afraid to break the quiet. “The stars are brighter here than in other parts of the realm.”

Y/N turned to him, surprised by the comment. “They are,” she agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “It reminds me of home.”

Benjicot nodded, his gaze following hers out the window. “I know this is not the life you envisioned,” he began, hesitating slightly. “But I hope, in time, you’ll find happiness here.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough to plant a seed of hope in her heart. “I hope so too, my lord,” she replied, her voice gentle.

That night, as they lay side by side in the large bed, Y/N felt the weight of his presence beside her. The sheets were cold at first, but as they lay in silence, she felt his hand slowly, hesitantly, reach for hers. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. She squeezed his hand in return, a silent acknowledgment that perhaps, just perhaps, they could make this marriage into something more than just an arrangement.

Months passed, and the seasons changed. Y/N and Benjicot fell into a comfortable rhythm, learning to navigate their roles as husband and wife. There were moments of shared laughter, quiet conversations by the fire, and even a few stolen kisses that felt more natural with time. It wasn’t the passionate love story Y/N had once dreamed of, but it was something real, something she could build upon.

When Y/N discovered she was with child, the news was met with joy throughout Raventree Hall. The Blackwood line would continue, and the bond between House Y/L/N and House Blackwood was now cemented by blood. The pregnancy brought a new closeness between Y/N and Benjicot. He was attentive, always ensuring she was comfortable, and took great care in preparing for the arrival of their child.

The day their daughter was born, Y/N’s heart swelled with love as she held the tiny bundle in her arms. The babe had her mother’s eyes and her father’s dark hair, a perfect blend of the two houses. Benjicot stood beside the bed, watching in awe as Y/N cradled their daughter.

“Would you like to hold her?” Y/N asked, looking up at him with a soft smile.

Benjicot hesitated for a moment, as if afraid he might harm the delicate creature in his wife’s arms. But when Y/N gently placed the baby in his hands, his fear melted away. As he gazed down at his daughter, his eyes softened, and Y/N saw something in him she hadn’t seen before—love, pure and unguarded.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve given me the greatest gift, Y/N.”

In that moment, Y/N felt closer to him than ever before. As she watched him hold their daughter, she allowed herself to believe that this marriage, once forged out of duty, had grown into something much deeper. Perhaps they could be happy after all.

But happiness in Westeros was often fleeting.

It was a stormy night when Y/N’s world came crashing down. She had awoken in the middle of the night to find the bed empty beside her. The sheets were cold, and the silence of the room was deafening. Worry gnawed at her as she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and ventured out into the darkened corridors of Raventree Hall.

She searched for Benjicot, her heart pounding with every step. When she finally found him, it was as if the ground had been ripped out from under her.

There, in a secluded alcove near the godswood, stood Benjicot, his arms wrapped around a woman Y/N recognized all too well—Lysa Rivers, his childhood friend. The two of them were locked in a passionate embrace, their lips pressed together in a kiss that spoke of old, unresolved feelings.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She felt as if a knife had been plunged into her chest, the pain sharp and unrelenting. This was the man she had come to love, the father of her child, and he was betraying her in the most unforgivable way.

Before she knew it, she was running, fleeing the scene of her heartbreak. The rain poured down in torrents, drenching her as she ran back to her chambers, but she didn’t care. The physical cold was nothing compared to the icy numbness that had settled in her heart.

When Benjicot finally returned to their chambers, he found Y/N standing by the window, her back to him. The tension in the room was palpable, the silence heavy with unspoken words.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice laced with guilt. “Please, let me explain.”

She turned to face him, her eyes blazing with anger and hurt. “Explain? What is there to explain, Benjicot? I saw you! I saw you with her!” Her voice cracked, the pain evident in every word.

Benjicot looked stricken, as if her words had wounded him. “It was a mistake, a moment of weakness—”

“A mistake?” Y/N’s voice rose in disbelief. “You betrayed me, Benjicot! You betrayed our marriage, our family!” She took a step toward him, her hands trembling. “I thought…I thought you loved me. I thought we had built something real.”

“I do love you,” Benjicot said desperately, reaching for her, but she stepped back, out of his reach. “I’ve loved you since the day you placed our daughter in my arms. But Lysa…she was my past, Y/N. She was someone I cared for long before we were married. When I saw her tonight, old feelings resurfaced, and I… I lost control. But it meant nothing, I swear it.”

Y/N shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t betray someone you love, Benjicot. You don’t risk everything for a fleeting moment with someone else.”

The hurt in her voice cut him deeply, and he sank to his knees before her, his head bowed in shame. “Please, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I know I’ve wronged you in the worst way possible. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m begging you—don’t leave me. Don’t take our daughter away from me. I will do anything, anything to make this right.”

Y/N looked down at him, her heart torn. The man before her was not the strong, confident lord she had married, but a broken man, consumed by regret. Part of her wanted to push him away, to let him suffer for the pain he had caused her. But another part of her, the part that still loved him despite everything, couldn’t bear to see him like this.

“Benjicot,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can ever truly forgive you for this. The pain you’ve caused me… it’s more than I can bear. But I won’t make any decisions tonight. I need time—to think, to heal. For now, I’ll stay, for our daughter’s sake. But know this—you will have to work harder than you ever have before to earn back my trust.”

Benjicot nodded, tears glistening in his eyes. “I will, Y/N. I swear to you, I will spend every day proving to you that you are the only woman I love, the only one I will ever love.”

The days that followed were filled with an uneasy quiet. Benjicot was true to his word—he devoted himself to Y/N and their daughter, never straying far from her side. He sought to make amends not with grand gestures, but with small, consistent acts of kindness and care. He listened to her, respected her space, and showed her in every way he could that she was his priority.

Y/N watched him carefully, her heart still guarded. The pain of his betrayal lingered, a sharp reminder of the trust that had been shattered. Yet, as the days turned into weeks, she couldn't deny the change in him. Benjicot seemed different, as if the weight of his guilt had transformed him. He was more attentive, more present than he had ever been before, and she could see the earnestness in his every action.

One evening, as autumn began to deepen, Y/N sat in their chambers, her daughter playing on a woven rug near the hearth. The little girl babbled happily, her tiny hands grasping at the colorful wooden toys Benjicot had carved himself. Y/N found herself smiling despite the turmoil in her heart. Her daughter’s laughter was a balm to her soul, a reminder that there was still good in her life, something pure and untainted.

Benjicot entered the room quietly, as he often did these days, as if he were afraid to disturb the fragile peace between them. He knelt beside their daughter, picking up one of the toys and joining her in play. Y/N watched them, her heart softening as she saw the love in his eyes, the way he doted on their child with such tenderness.

After a while, Benjicot looked up at Y/N, his expression tentative. "Would you walk with me in the godswood?" he asked, his voice soft, almost pleading.

Y/N hesitated. The godswood had always been a place of solace for her, a place where she could think and find peace. But it was also the place where she had first seen him with Lysa, the place where her heart had been broken. Still, she nodded. "Alright," she agreed, rising from her seat.

They walked in silence at first, the cool evening air rustling the leaves overhead. The old weirwood tree stood at the heart of the godswood, its red leaves vibrant against the darkening sky. Y/N had always found comfort here, under the watchful eyes of the old gods, but tonight she felt a sense of trepidation.

Benjicot stopped beneath the weirwood, turning to face her. His expression was earnest, his eyes full of remorse. "Y/N," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "I've been doing a lot of thinking these past weeks. I've thought about what I did, how I betrayed you, and I've realized just how much I stand to lose. I was a fool, blinded by the past, and in doing so, I risked everything we have. I can never take back what I did, and I will live with that regret for the rest of my life."

He took a deep breath, stepping closer to her. "But I want you to know that I am committed to earning back your trust. I love you, Y/N. I love our daughter, and I love the life we've built together. I don't expect you to forgive me easily, and I don't expect things to go back to the way they were overnight. But I will keep trying, every day, to prove to you that you are the only woman in my heart, the only woman I will ever want by my side."

Y/N listened to his words, her emotions swirling. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the desperation in his voice. He was baring his soul to her, laying himself at her mercy, and for the first time since that fateful night, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way forward.

"Benjicot," she said, her voice soft but steady, "what you did hurt me more than I can put into words. It felt like everything we had built together, everything I thought we had, was just… shattered. But I can see how much you regret it, and I can see how hard you're trying to make amends. I won't lie to you—it's going to take time for me to heal, and it's going to take time for me to trust you again. But I don't want to throw away what we have, either. I want to believe that we can rebuild, that we can find a way back to each other."

Benjicot’s eyes filled with tears, and he took her hands in his, holding them as if they were the most precious thing in the world. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "Thank you for giving me a second chance. I promise you, Y/N, I will spend the rest of my life proving that you made the right choice."

Y/N nodded, her heart heavy but hopeful. "Then let's take it one day at a time," she said softly. "Let's start again, and see where this road takes us."

In the days and weeks that followed, Y/N and Benjicot began the slow process of rebuilding their relationship. It wasn’t easy—there were moments of doubt, of lingering pain that resurfaced when Y/N least expected it. But each time, Benjicot was there, patient and understanding, never pushing her but always ready to support her when she needed it.

They spent more time together, taking long walks in the godswood, sharing meals, and talking late into the night. Benjicot opened up to her in ways he never had before, sharing stories from his childhood, his fears, and his hopes for the future. Y/N found herself doing the same, and gradually, the walls she had built around her heart began to crumble.

One evening, as they sat together by the hearth, their daughter asleep in her cradle, Benjicot took Y/N’s hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I love you," he whispered, his eyes full of the sincerity that had come to define him since that night. "I know I’ve said it before, but I want you to know that it’s true. You and our daughter mean everything to me."

Y/N looked into his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she felt a sense of peace. "I love you too," she replied, her voice soft but full of conviction. "It’s going to take time, but I believe in us. I believe that we can build something even stronger than before."

Benjicot smiled, a smile that reached his eyes and warmed her heart. "Together, we can do anything," he said, and in that moment, Y/N knew it to be true.

Their journey wasn’t over—there were still challenges to face, and scars that would take time to heal. But as they held each other close, the flickering firelight casting a warm glow over them, Y/N felt a sense of hope for the future. They had been through darkness, but now they were stepping into the light, hand in hand, ready to face whatever came their way.

And in the end, that was what mattered most—their love, their commitment to each other, and the promise of a new beginning.

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"This fic was ai generated—" Cool, so lemme block you real quick

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Davos Blackwood - Cost of a Kiss

Summary - During a tourney, a rivalry plays out both on the field and in the heated exchange between a sister and a cocky knight. When a wager ends in a kiss, lines blur between anger, pride, and attraction, leaving both tangled in a battle far more personal than any clash of steel.

Pairing - Davos Blackwood x Bracken reader

Warnings - Violence (brief tourney description)

Word count - 2222

Masterlist for Davos • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

A tourney at King's Landing was always a spectacle of grandeur, filled with banners fluttering in the wind, the clash of steel, and the thunderous applause of the crowd. To participate was a matter of great pride, and the excitement was evident. 

Today, I found myself amidst the sea of spectators, seated comfortably in a private box reserved for the family and friends of the competitors, giving me a prime view of the arena.

My brother, Aeron Bracken, was one of those competing, and at the moment, he stood before me on the opposite side of the railing. I leaned forward, adjusting his armour with a careful hand, fulfilling my role as the dutiful sister. 

His nervousness was evident, his eyes darting to the crowd, but I met his gaze with a reassuring smile.

"You'll do great, Aeron. Don't worry," I said softly, trying to ease the tension that weighed on his shoulders. "Fight like you always do. Do not let the crowd rattle you." 

I brushed a loose strand of hair from his face, and with a final nod, he stepped back, slipping on his helmet before joining the throng of knights waiting to compete.

"Poor lad looks like he needs some consoling," came a voice from beside me, laced with a mocking tone. I turned to see a knight with a smirk plastered on his face, the distinctive Blackwood sigil emblazoned on his armour. 

The sight of it alone set my blood to simmer.

"Mind your own affairs," I snapped, irritation flaring as he sauntered closer, his expression amused.

"Quite the mouth on a lady—how unseemly," he remarked, leaning casually on the rail. His eyes roved over me, a slow, deliberate gaze that finally settled on my face. 

"Davos Blackwood," he introduced himself, hand over his heart, extending his palm in a display of chivalry.

I flashed a wicked smile. "I couldn't care less," I retorted, leaving his hand hanging awkwardly. His smirk faltered into a frown, but he quickly recovered.

"You Brackens are a cruel lot," he said, licking his lips slowly as if savouring the moment.

"Is that so?" I shrugged, dismissively turning my attention back to the arena where Aeron was preparing for his match.

Davos followed my gaze. "He's not going to win," he said, his tone smug and assured.

"And you are?" I shot back, narrowing my eyes.

He nodded confidently, puffing his chest. "Naturally. The realm loves a good story, and they won't pass up the chance to pit a Blackwood against a Bracken. Our houses have been at each other's throats for generations."

"There's nothing I'd enjoy more than watching my brother knock you on your pretty little ass," I shot back, my voice dripping with venom. Davos's eyebrows arched in amusement, clearly entertained by my fiery defiance.

"You sound very sure of yourself," he observed, studying me with that infuriating grin still plastered on his face.

"I am," I replied, my lips curling into a tight, unyielding smile. There was no doubt in my mind—Aeron was capable of more than handling the likes of him.

Davos leaned in slightly, mischief flickering in his eyes. "If you're so certain, then let's make a deal," he proposed, his tone casual, yet daring. 

I rolled my eyes, uninterested in whatever nonsense he was about to spew, but he continued, unfazed by my disinterest.

"If I beat your brother, then I get to..." He paused dramatically, pretending to think, dragging out the silence until I finally shot him an impatient glare. "...kiss you."

The audacity of his words hit me like a splash of cold water. I scoffed, astonishment and irritation boiling within me. 

"Absolutely not," I snapped, my voice tinged with disbelief. "You must be out of your mind."

"What's the matter?" he taunted, leaning even closer, his eyes dancing with challenge. "Afraid he'll lose? You sounded pretty sure a moment ago." 

I turned my head, fighting the heat that crept up my neck, betraying me with a blush.

I hated that he could make me second-guess myself, even for a moment. But backing down now would mean letting him win without even stepping into the arena. I couldn't let him have that satisfaction.

"Fine," I huffed, more out of spite than anything else. His grin broadened, satisfaction dripping from every line of his face as though he'd already won.

"I look forward to our kiss," he said, his voice a low, teasing drawl as he finally stepped away, sauntering off toward the other knights with a swagger that grated on my nerves.

I watched him go, biting back a retort. "I'm sure you do," I muttered under my breath, sinking back into my seat, my eyes trailing after him. 

He moved with the easy confidence of someone who thought the world belonged to him, slipping his helmet on as he strutted across the field like it was his personal stage.

The moment I had been waiting for had finally arrived. 

The crowd hushed to a tense silence as Davos and Aeron took their positions at opposite ends of the jousting field. The air was thick with anticipation, the weight of the age-old rivalry between our houses hanging over the arena like a storm cloud. 

I could feel it in my bones, the expectation, the fear, and the fierce hope that my brother would emerge victorious.

Davos sat tall in his saddle, exuding an irritating confidence that made me want to scream. 

Aeron, by contrast, looked focused, his grip on the lance steady and firm. I watched him intently, my heart pounding as he lowered his visor, the gleam of his armour catching the sunlight. 

The signal was given, and both knights charged, their horses kicking up clouds of dust as they hurtled toward each other.

The first clash was a deafening explosion of steel against steel, the sound reverberating through the arena. Aeron held his ground, his lance striking Davos's shield with enough force to make the crowd gasp. 

I gripped the edge of my seat, a surge of pride swelling within me. 

For a moment, it seemed as if Aeron had the upper hand he was relentless, pushing Davos back with every charge, his movements quick and precise. Each impact sent shockwaves through the stands, and I could feel the tension shifting. 

Aeron was winning.

But then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. Davos, with a calculated manoeuvre, twisted his body at the last second, avoiding Aeron's strike and driving his lance into my brother's shield with brutal precision. 

Aeron wobbled, his balance faltering, and before I could even register what was happening, Davos struck again, this time with a force that sent Aeron sprawling to the ground, his armour clattering against the dirt.

My breath caught in my throat. Aeron struggled to rise, but it was too late. The crowd erupted as Davos rode past, his lance raised in triumph. 

The announcer's voice boomed across the field, declaring Davos Blackwood the victor. 

My stomach twisted painfully, the cheers that filled the air were a bitter contrast to the sinking feeling of defeat.

Davos dismounted with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times, pulling off his helmet to reveal a face lit with smug satisfaction. He looked directly at me, his expression brimming with the confidence of someone who knew he'd just won more than the match. 

Every line of his face was painted with triumph, his eyes gleaming with that insufferable arrogance.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, a mix of anger, embarrassment, and something I refused to acknowledge.

The tourney continued around me, knights clashing with renewed ferocity as cheers and gasps erupted from the crowd. Yet, I couldn't care less about the ongoing matches. My mind was consumed with one thought, finding Aeron. 

I pushed my way through the bustling throng, weaving between spectators and banners. The small tent set up for treating injuries loomed ahead, and I hurried toward it, desperate to see my brother.

Just as I reached the entrance, a familiar, taunting voice cut through the noise behind me. 

"I believe you have a debt to pay," Davos called out, his voice booming with the confidence of someone who always got what he wanted. 

I turned to see him standing there, still in his armour, his expression infuriatingly smug.

"Luck," I muttered dismissively, turning my back on him and continuing toward the tent, but he was relentless, matching my stride as he followed after me.

"Not luck. I won fair and square," he insisted, his voice chasing me like a persistent shadow. 

I could feel my temper rising, frustration bubbling over as I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my composure.

I spun around to face him, ready to snap, but Davos was still rambling, savouring his victory and rubbing it in my face with every word. His arrogance was unbearable, and in a sudden, reckless moment, I decided to shut him up the only way I knew how. 

Without another thought, I grabbed him by the collar and leaned in, pressing my lips to his.

For a brief, electric second, everything fell silent. Davos stiffened in surprise, but his response was immediate his hands moved to cradle my face, pulling me closer as if he intended to deepen the kiss. But I was already pulling away, my breath ragged, cheeks flushed from more than just anger.

"There," I said sharply, stepping back and wiping my lips with the back of my hand, fighting the smile that threatened to break free. "You got your kiss. Now we're done."

Davos blinked, momentarily stunned, but his smirk quickly returned, though there was something softer in his eyes now, something almost playful. 

"I barely got to enjoy it," he teased, falling into step beside me as I resumed my search for Aeron.

"Well, tough," I shot back, crossing my arms over my chest, refusing to look at him. "Maybe you should've stopped rambling if you wanted it to last."

I scanned the tent, searching for any sign of my brother, but all I found were bruised knights and the smell of herbs thick in the air. Aeron was nowhere to be seen, and anxiety gnawed at me. 

Davos, however, was still at my side, his presence impossible to ignore.

"Your brother fought well," he said, his voice losing some of its mocking edge as if he sensed my growing concern. "He'll be alright."

I shot him a sideways glance, momentarily thrown by the sincerity in his tone. It was almost as if he was trying to comfort me, and that only made me more irritated. 

I didn't need sympathy from a Blackwood, least of all from the one who had just put my brother in the dirt.

"Save it," I said, swallowing the knot in my throat. "I don't need your reassurances, and neither does he." 

I turned away, forcing myself to stay focused on finding Aeron but as much as I tried to ignore him, Davos's presence lingered, persistent and maddening, like the kiss we had just shared, brief, impulsive, and impossible to forget.

Finally, I spotted Aeron in the distance, talking quietly with another knight near the edge of the tents. Relief flooded me, and I lifted my skirts, rushing toward him, weaving through the crowd with determined urgency.

"Aeron!" I called out, breathless as I reached him. He turned, and though his eyes met mine with a flicker of warmth, they were overshadowed by the unmistakable weight of disappointment. 

Still, I tried to lift his spirits, offering him a bright smile. "You fought so well," I said, hoping to chase away the sadness that clung to him.

He shook his head, a faint, rueful smile tugging at his lips. "But I still lost," he replied, his voice heavy with frustration and self-doubt.

"Three out of four opponents is nothing to scoff at," I said, my voice firm and encouraging. "Those are impressive numbers, Aeron. You made us all proud." 

I watched as a reluctant smile finally broke through his solemn expression, the edges of his lips curving up despite himself.

Aeron's smile faded as he looked closer, narrowing his eyes as he examined my face. 

"You've got sand on your chin," he said, a touch of amusement lacing his tone as he reached out, wiping a smudge away with his thumb.

My heart skipped a beat, my mind immediately flashed back to Davos, and I realized what had happened. The sand on Aeron's fingers had come from my face, transferred from Davos during that kiss. 

My cheeks flushed at the realization, a mix of embarrassment and a strange, unbidden thrill.

I glanced over my shoulder, and there he was, Davos, leaning casually against a post, watching me with that maddeningly self-assured grin. His face, too, bore streaks of sand, a telltale sign of our impulsive encounter. 

When our eyes met, he winked, an infuriatingly bold and knowing gesture that sent my thoughts spiralling. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to smile as I turned back to Aeron, pretending not to notice the triumphant gleam in Davos's eyes.

My mind drifted back to that stolen kiss, to the infuriating knight who had somehow managed to rattle me in ways I never expected. 

I couldn't decide what angered me more, Davos's arrogance, my own impulsiveness, or the undeniable truth that, despite it all, I was already looking forward to the next time our paths would cross.

A/n - Set out to a match and somehow ending up jousting with Davos Blackwood's lips 🫦

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sorry to be negative on the dash but..... y'all need to be nicer to fanfic writers. we all know interactions are decreasing, and even during the nine months i've been on here, i've noticed a decrease.

tell writers you like their works. comment on their works, reblog their works.

some of you act so entitled, and idk if you've noticed but you're literally making writers miserable. it makes me so sad to see my mutuals deactivate because the joy of writing has been taken away from them by ungrateful readers who are constantly demanding more, more, more, to the point where people are experiencing burnout and anxiety because they can't keep up with the constant unrealistic demands.

reminder that even though it takes you five minutes to read 1k words it might've taken the writer hours to get the words down, proofread, edit, and make the perfect fic layout.

some of you complain that there are no "good" fics anymore, yet you do nothing for the fandom, do nothing to support writers and just hide behind anon and blank blogs, complaining about every little thing till you've driven all writers off this site.

it's so tiring. please be kinder. we're all trying our best here.

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if a character means enough to me i will truly never stop thinking about them. i just retire them into a little back room in my brain and periodically bring them out to stare at them under a little light

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Violence through his veins.

Benjicot Blackwood x wife!reader

Summary: Benjicot is an overly nervous man around his wife, blushing every time. After the Battle at the Burning Mill, Benji exudes confidence. It throws her off.

Warnings: HEAVY talks of sex. Blood, war, violence, etc.

A/N: based on an ask! We get a little shy Ben, then a little Bloody Ben! It's the best of both worlds!!!

Masterlist

..........................................

She stepped down the stairs, paying more attention to the man that stood at the bottom of the staircase. 

Benjicot Blackwood stood at the bottom of the stairs. He was chatting lightly to a lord, not noticing her approaching yet. 

She took a moment to admire him. His broad shoulders flexed as he rolled them back. He no doubt wanted to crawl into a hole and not come back out. She was beginning to know him well just from his body language. 

The man he was talking to looked up, noticing her coming down the stairs. "My lady?"

Benji turned immediately at that. His eyes lit up at the sight of her. "My love?" He asked softly.

She hit the bottom step and stopped. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to interrupt you."

Benji let out a soft breath of relief. "No. That's fine." He excused himself from the man and held out his arm like a proper gentleman, which she took.

The two walked down the corridor in silence and she was the one to break it. "You looked miserable."

"Did I?" He immediately asked in concern, then relaxed. "Thought I was hiding it pretty well."

She hummed. "He didn't seem to notice."

"And you did?" 

She shrugged and tightened her grip on his bicep. "We're married."

His brows came together in thought. His heart felt a small jolt at the thought that she recognized his anxiety so easily. "We are," he agreed, "Is that how it works?"

"Well, I don't know in all honesty," she admitted. "But I know you fairly well."

"And I to you."

The silence continued as they continued to walk. It was comforting, and they found that they didn't mind it. But Benji's mind was wandering and he couldn't stop it. 

"Is that why you interrupted?"

She hummed in consideration of what to tell him. "A lady never interrupts on purpose."

His eyes met hers, and a blush crept over his cheeks. The two looked away. 

"I-I'll have to go soon. I have to patrol."

"You won't be here to sup?"

"No..."  

"Oh." She pulled her hand back and smoothed down her skirt. "Well, that's alright. How late will you be gone?"

He rubbed at the back of his neck. "I imagine before you sleep, though I'm unsure."

"I've been… missing you, as of late," she admitted with a flushed expression. 

His cheeks flushed as well. "H-Have you?"

"It has been a few days." She dared to reach out and brush over his shoulder. "The people are expecting us to do our duties."

"Is that the only reason?" His breathed out as the heat in his body rose. 

She stepped forward, placing a delicate kiss to his jaw. "No."

A small whine fell from his lips. His shaky hands made their way to her hips and his head tilted up to give her more room. 

She took advantage of it, nipping at his Adam's apple. 

He groaned. "I must go."

"Stay," she begged.

"I-I can't."

She placed her forehead on his chest. "But you'll be back soon?"

He brushed a hand through her hair. "As soon as I can be, my love."

…

The news of the Battle had sent her into a tailspin that evening. Her sweet husband in a battle with the Brackens?

When news was received that the battle had ended, she all but ran to the battlefield. The stable boy had handed her the reigns to her horse and she was off. 

Once upon the field, she took note of the numerous scattered bodies across the field. It panicked her more, knowing that her sweet Benjicot could be one of them. 

The small group of men across the field loudly chatted and yelled, no doubt celebrating their victory. They were crowded in a circle, all in Blackwood red.

She rode to them, and their attention turned to her. 

Benicot stepped out from the circle, his body covered head to toe in blood. His hair was smeared with the remains of his enemies, his eyes so dark, they were hard to spot through the blood. 

But that wasn't what was so alarming.

It was the confidence that oozed from his form. His shoulders were back, his chest puffed out in a way she'd never seen. His eyes held a fire to them, one that was now set on her. He sheathed his sword, opening his arms out. "The hell are you doing here?"

She jumped off of her horse, running to him. When within reach, her hands frantically moved over him, trying to figure out his injuries- if he even had any. It was so difficult to tell through the blood. "Are you hurt?"

His hands had instinctively moved to her waist, keeping her in a vice grip. "You sweet woman. So concerned for me, you journeyed into a battle, unsure if it was over yet?"

"Well… yes… I guess so-"

"Hear that boys?" He called over his shoulder. "The lady cares for her new Lord."

They cheered and quipped various things in response, but she heard none of them. "Benji? What do you mean? Is your father-"

"-Dead," he finished for her. "Died to a Bracken sword. And I killed the Bracken. First blood of the new Lord's sword is one of a Bracken! Isn't that joyful?"

Her face fell. "Oh, Benji. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" He gawked at her, and a sinister smile came over his face. "I'm Lord Blackwood now. And you are my Lady. Are you not incandescently happy?"

"Benjicot. Are you hurt?"

He shook his head and pulled her closer. "I've never felt more alive," he growled in her ear. 

She gripped him by his biceps, her fingers catching on the metal armor around him. "You're different."

His fingers squeezed her hips. "I'm alive," was his answer.

Her head picked up to look up at his face. He was staring down at her, his lips parted. The two took a moment to truly drink the other in. 

Benjicot's hand came up to her face and cupped her cheek. The contact made her eyes close for a moment, not caring about the blood that smeared across her cheek. 

"My heart is pounding," he admitted.

She braved a move, pushing herself firmly against him and kissing his lips softly. 

A groan sounded from within him, and he soon dipped his head down to catch her lips further. The kiss deepened heavily, the two beginning to fight for dominance. Their breaths mixed between kisses. 

"I'm taking you back to Raventree," he panted. "Now. I can't wait any longer for a taste of you."

He shouted something over his shoulder at the guys, all of them waving or voicing a bye of sorts, obviously trying to give the lustful man a little privacy. 

He spoke as he tugged her along. "The gods have made you just for me, haven't they?"

"I'm beginning to believe they have."

A smirk came across his face. "They have. And I for you. I know how well you take me."

Her face flushed. "I don't know what you're talking ab-"

He dug his heel into the dirt, stopping them and tugging her to him. It caught her off guard, but he caught her with ease. "You do," he pushed. "You know very well what I mean." He leaned forward slowly, as if trying to earn the trust of prey. His face tucked into the crook of her neck, beginning to kiss and lightly suck at the skin. "The way you take me is my proof that the gods are in my favor."

"Not-" her breath caught when he nipped a sensitive spot. "Not your victory over the Brackens?"

"No," he quickly answered, as if it was obvious.

"How much further to your horse?" She softly asked.

He took a deep breath against her, savoring each passing second of being consumed by the very thought of her. "Depends on how many times I have to stop to admire you."

She smiled and tugged at his hair playfully. He groaned. 

…

Seemed that when violence moved through his veins, so did confidence. Not that she minded. Both Benjis were perfect to her.

.........................................

[writervaul-t]

𝐂𝐎𝐙𝐘 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 (a collection of cozy autumn-themed prompts.)  

Send one of the following emojis for our muses to:

🎃 carve pumpkins together

🍁 go to a pumpkin patch

🍬 go trick or treating

🧛‍♂️ go to a costume party

📺 watch horror movies together

🌽 do a corn maze

🌾 go on a hayride

🍎 go apple-picking

☕ go on a coffee date

🐎 go on a horseback ride

🍄 go to a farmer's market

🌰 have a fall picnic

🥧 bake autumn treats together (pumpkin pie, cookies...)

🍂 take a walk in the woods to look at the leaves

📖 read books while it rains outside

⛺ go camping (and tell ghost stories by the campfire)

👻 decorate the house for Halloween