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Her knight, his lady

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New Release: [-Fluttering Oil Painting-] Lolita OP Dress

◆ Shopping Link >>> https://lolitawardrobe.com/fluttering-oil-painting-vintage-classic-lolita-op-dress_p8687.html

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🌻🌼🌷🌸🏵️🌹🌺💐🍀

Some flowers for anyone not feeling their best today

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surprise, @illumiera! decided on a whim to draw elentari! she’s wearing something based on this. i hope i did her justice!

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Edge of Renewal by Erin Kate Archer ~ erinkatearcher

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kicking my legs and giggling at the sleepover. can my OC who I've never drawn or talked about play with your OC who you've never drawn or talked about

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if your water breaks… i will fix it.

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how to tell mutual hey i think ur really cool we should talk more but like also im bad at talking and am always exhausted

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Book Daenerys my beloved

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Hermaeus Mora's Champion | DeviantArt

MIRAAK THE FIRST DRAGONBORN

i think my soul left my body somewhere in this linework.

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my sun, my sworn sword

or: those born with the soul of a dragon really can't flirt like normal people. may become part of i fear no fate (for you are my fate) at some point, 348 words

“But what would they have me do, really?” Elentari sighs, frowning down at the spring flowers she’s winding into a wreath for her hair. “Skyrim’s Dragonborn I may be, but its war is theirs, not mine to solve—not unless they’d have me storm into Solitude atop Odahviing and declare myself High Queen.”

“I would have you be Queen,” is Miraak’s reply, half in jest. Half, and no more: his same-soul would grow pale and wilt beneath a crown’s weight, he knows, for her upbringing in Daggerfall has left her all too familiar with the secrets, and the schemes, and the honey-sweet words that smoothed the way for the inevitable knife. But Elentari is a dragon in soul if not in flesh, and a dragon cannot hide how its pupils flare at the mere mention of gold. “And, rinisili, filjudi, a queen,” he pronounces as he pulls the featherweight of her into his lap, “must have a throne, must she not?”

Elentari laughs, then, bell-bright, and tightens her legs about his waist for grip, her gown riding up her stockinged thighs. “Is that all the honour you’d claim for yourself, anarinya?” she asks, slipping for a moment into lilting, songlike Old Bretic to name him her sun, the sun to her skyful of stars. “Would you not prefer to be—” and ah, the mischief in her dimpled smile, “—my favourite court jester?” A quick flit of a kiss to a healed-over scar beside his mouth. “My most trusted advisor?” Another kiss to the opposite side, unmarked. “Or perhaps my sworn sword, my loyal knight?”

Miraak hums, pretending to think about it, then inches forwards—so scarce is the space between them—and captures her lips in an unhurried kiss. His thumb strokes the pointed tip of her ear; he feels her heels press into his back as she shivers against him. “I would accept no other title than that of your consort,” he tells her, and he’ll fill himself up with the breathless little laugh she grants him when he rolls them back into the grass.

Rinisili — "my same-soul" Filjudi — "my star-queen", so spoken because Elentari's name means "queen of the stars" in Quenya Elvish Old Bretic Anarinya — Quenya Elvish Old Bretic for "my sun"

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Mannimarco Mpreg pt.2 & Sereia lore 😈🙏 (technically)

[illumiera]

my sun, my sworn sword

or: those born with the soul of a dragon really can't flirt like normal people. may become part of i fear no fate (for you are my fate) at some point, 348 words

“But what would they have me do, really?” Elentari sighs, frowning down at the spring flowers she’s winding into a wreath for her hair. “Skyrim’s Dragonborn I may be, but its war is theirs, not mine to solve—not unless they’d have me storm into Solitude atop Odahviing and declare myself High Queen.”

“I would have you be Queen,” is Miraak’s reply, half in jest. Half, and no more: his same-soul would grow pale and wilt beneath a crown’s weight, he knows, for her upbringing in Daggerfall has left her all too familiar with the secrets, and the schemes, and the honey-sweet words that smoothed the way for the inevitable knife. But Elentari is a dragon in soul if not in flesh, and a dragon cannot hide how its pupils flare at the mere mention of gold. “And, rinisili, filjudi, a queen,” he pronounces as he pulls the featherweight of her into his lap, “must have a throne, must she not?”

Elentari laughs, then, bell-bright, and tightens her legs about his waist for grip, her gown riding up her stockinged thighs. “Is that all the honour you’d claim for yourself, anarinya?” she asks, slipping for a moment into lilting, songlike Old Bretic to name him her sun, the sun to her skyful of stars. “Would you not prefer to be—” and ah, the mischief in her dimpled smile, “—my favourite court jester?” A quick flit of a kiss to a healed-over scar beside his mouth. “My most trusted advisor?” Another kiss to the opposite side, unmarked. “Or perhaps my sworn sword, my loyal knight?”

Miraak hums, pretending to think about it, then inches forwards—so scarce is the space between them—and captures her lips in an unhurried kiss. His thumb strokes the pointed tip of her ear; he feels her heels press into his back as she shivers against him. “I would accept no other title than that of your consort,” he tells her, and he’ll fill himself up with the breathless little laugh she grants him when he rolls them back into the grass.

Rinisili — "my same-soul" Filjudi — "my star-queen", so spoken because Elentari's name means "queen of the stars" in Quenya Elvish Old Bretic Anarinya — Quenya Elvish Old Bretic for "my sun"

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my favorite pookie (uncursed edition) once again helping me get my painting skills back online <3

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guess who's made it over the halfway point with i fear no fate chapter ten? me, finally 😌

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Hunter’s Moon 🌕