#King!Din Au

[ezlo-x]

The Golden Dragons (Part 1)

Hoping and praying that the image quality does not get ruined, but yes this is part one on my au lore of the dragons. I haven't gotten to how the races' culture revolves around the dragons (tho I did explain it in an ask a while back), the behavior of the dragons, and finally (maybe) the outfit/armors. The lore on the golden stones would probably be a whole separate thing from the dragons, but I'm still working around it. Thank you for reading!

[ivvmell]

the star wars fans' urge to make every mandalorian mand'alor while the character has no clue or aspirations to be the one. for what. or giving em the black saber. sexy but nothing else

[usagi-peachs]

The prince of naboo loves the prince of mandalore like a son.

The king is just happy :)

[soft-persephone]

Scattered Promises 4

Rating:M // MDNI // WC: 4-1k // Warnings: mature themes , sex // masterlist // AN: Here’s Chapter 4!! I almost forgot to post this! I hope you guys enjoy it! This chapter was a such a doozy to write and I’m finally done with it!! Now we can get to the meatier parts of the story!! // Three //

Ready Jazzy?”

Amiyra picked up Sammy and grabbed his little stuffed fish she made for him within the first year they were in each other’s lives. He was obsessed with the stuffed octopus you made him for his second birthday, but someone in the children's care thing was constantly taking his octopus and roughing it up or refusing to give it back.

The situation was disparaging if anyone asked you, but to the Madalorians, children are encouraged to settle their own affairs. According to them, Sammy would have to learn to be more aggressive and start standing up for himself regardless of only being 2 and a half years in age.

“I got everything!” Jazzy smiled, proudly showing off her new dagger.

“Alright, lets go.”

Amiyra grabbed her two large wicker baskets, and maneuvered the straps the best way she could without dropping Sammy.

Helping the morning harvesters was her own way of being involved in the community. If there was anything she learned in her upbringing on her homeworld, it was the importance of community. Learning the language and becoming a better fighter was not enough in itself. By doing her part without being asked and positioning herself as a worker, she would gain their respect.

Descending the steps, she swore as one broke on her way down.

Their new place was not as big as the one they stayed in with Paz and Penny, but with a few rough repairs, and perhaps an entire renovation for the front porch, they'd be set. The wood was aged, but it was still sturdy. Only a few places here and there needed some replacing.

Jazzy scoffed loudly.

Amiyra was about to ask why she was so upset, but upon looking up, she smiled.

The well worn armor of Ben was there.

He might beat her half to death every morning, but she grew a fondness for him. He was easy to talk to, genuine, and reliable. No matter how much time they spent together it didn’t seem like enough.

“Let me carry the baskets.” he mumbled softly.

“There's no need to lower your voice.” She smiled into his helmet, “he can sleep through anything.”

“I'd rather not risk it. He can be quite demanding with his desires for attention.” He picked up a stray loc of her hair and placed it behind her shoulder, “I have something else I'd like to focus on before the sun comes up.”

She didn’t say anything in response, nor did she have to. Before his hand left her face entirely she leaned into his leather covered hand, savoring the warmth that lay beneath them.

“Ahem.” Jazzy frowned. “I have somewhere to be today, and I don’t want to be late.

Amiyra gave Ben an apologetic smile and they made their way to the edge of the village where the training woods were.

“Today is a big day for you Jasmine.” Din got down on one knee in front of her, clasping her shoulders. “There's no doubt in my mind you will be the fiercest warrior during your trial and come back home in no time, but don't underestimate anyone and always watch your back.”

He handed her a shoulder length blade. Not yet a sword and not yet a dagger.

Jasmine’s eyes lit up and she gave him a genuine smile for the first time.

“Thank you.”

“Don't thank me adika until it saves your life and brings you back home.”

They walked in peaceful bliss.

Her daughter had an even newer, longer, and more dangerous pointy weapon to hold up her spirits. That, Amiyra would bring herself to come to terms with one day. She was still grappling with the Mandalorian customs of what is an appropriate age to introduce your children to violence.

In the clearing of the village, several other parents were lingering around with their children, saying their final goodbyes.

She sighed.

“Stay strong Jazzy.” She kneeled and placed her forehead on top of hers, “come back home.”

“Come back home, first.” Ben said firmly and nodded down at her.

And with no attitude, no sigh, or smart remark, Jazzy nodded at him back up at him with an equal amount of seriousness.

He put a hand on her shoulder. No pat, no fuss.

If she wasn’t so freaked out by this tradition of sending your child off into some unknown dangerous free for all battle with other children. She might have lingered on how big of a moment this was for them.

Breaking the tender touch Jazzy proudly marched off to the edge of the woods with the other children she’d be facing her trial with. Jasmine was not the biggest or strongest kid of her class, but from what she’s observed she’s surely the fiercest.

Maker, let her come home first.

“She’ll come home first.” Din murmured in her ear, placing his hand on the small of her back. “With you as a mother, I'm sure she gets her fierceness and determination from you.”

“Maker, let's hope so.”

Din nudged her with a hip and took Sammy out of her arms.

“You go ahead with the harvesters. I’ll drop him off at school.”

“See you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” she said back softly. Tenderly watching them until they were no more than a speck of dust.

Walking her way with the rest of the basket carriers, she was welcomed with a lot of suggestive stares peaking above their face coverings. They’re eyes all shined with a knowing looks of amusement.

“What's with all the looks?”

“Since when did you and Ben become so close?” Someone asked.

Amiyra sighed, holding back a smile.

Today was going to be a long day.

_______

“What are you doing?” Paz asked Din out of nowhere, considerably more calm than he once was now that his family is back together. The question could be taken as an inconspicuous notion, an everyday occurrence from an acquaintance.

Except nothing about Dins life was inconspicuous or an everyday occurrence.

One could dream, right?

He picked up Grogu and made his way through high, grand corridors. The steely grey blue tinted walls glowed in the sunlight. The flickering reflections from the sun suspended them in an artificial space similar to the one above.

“What I want,” he half joked.

Paz’s bushy brows knitted together over glaring eyes. The dark blue cloth that covered his nose and mouth tightened around his face.

He mainly wore his armor when he was going off world or when he was need in battle, any other time it would only be a power status thing, and he wasn’t interested in anything like that. When he wasn’t needed in battle he’d gladly wear his blues in cloth for a while with a face covering to spend time with his wife and children.

Din looked away and kept his brisk pace.

A joke, but it was not. No one was laughing.

“You're not going to do anything to hurt this girl or her children! I forbid it!” Paz hissed so his voice wouldn’t carry against the walls.

So much for being calmer than usual.

“I’m not hurting anyone.” Din pursed his lips under his helmet. He wasn’t exactly sure of what he was doing. . .well. . .that's a lie. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was keeping his private affairs and his kingly affairs separate. To protect him and Grogu as well as Amiyra and her family.

“I am not harming her or her children!” Din spun around and muttered into Paz’s face. “She. . .she comes from royalty,” he took a moment to lower his voioce. Sound carries adn who knows who might be listening in these halls, “and you know what they would make her do once they found out. What I would be forced to do if they found out about the both of us and what we might mean to each other.”

Paz huffed and stepped back.

Din turned away from Paz’s silence.

He would have preferred for him to yell, to start a fight even. Silence meant that he was right, and Din did not want to be right.

“Your, highness.” Bo Katan bowed her head slightly.

Din halfheartedly nodded back before setting Grogu down to go into the room before he did to get settled.

“Your majesty,” she addressed Grogu as he tottled inside.

He babbled in response.

“Fett is here as well as a few other important figures to discuss Axe Woves.”

Din grimaced.

Today was going to be a long day.

______

Today was such a beautiful day.

There was something about this system's sun shining down on you and your feet in ankle high water, collecting the versatile green plant and the stalk it grew on. The greens could either be sweet or bitter, but both were suitable to be added to any dish, stew, or stir fry. The stalk could be patted dry and laid out on a flat surface to be made into baskets or anything else of use that could be made. It was like straw but sturdier, more reliable, and durable.

Despite everything else going on that was making her anxious, the sun was high and the sky was clear. While Ben complained that helping with the harvest was a mindless or tedious task that made him feel useless. That his talents were being wanted away with the hours someone could spend out there.

But it wasn’t that at all.

The harvest was one of the most essential parts of a functioning society. It was being a part of something larger than yourself. In some nations it was about a way of life. The land called out to some people. They wanted nothing more than to grow something, provide something not only to themselves, but also for so many others who may need it. They wanted a simple life dictated by the weather and season on what to grow and when, with no input or demands from anyone or anything else.

They wanted honest work and to be paid for that work.

But aside from all the other grand and larger than life reasonings, it reminded her of home.

Her father only allowed her to work on a farm every now and then because it made the family look more relatable. He claimed it made the people more happy to have them as their rulers. But every now and then the ‘power’ over her life and what she represented became overwhelming, and when she wanted a break, she wanted to work on a farm and pretend to have a more simpler life. . .a life where she could control what happened.

“Adika!”

You were sure it meant child. You’ve heard Ben say call your children that word in rare tender moments.

At first it ruffled your feathers, but you soon learned it was a term of endearment similar to many cultures. It was the same word everyone older, particular women were fond of. It was a word used to refer to newcomers by a collective group or culture to highlight your inexperience amongst them. . . but in a kind way.

You called out a single yell asa response. It was short, clipped, and polite. It was your regular response when mending the harvest.

“Things aren’t moving to fast between you and Ben are they?” Mimi raised an eyebrow over her face covering. Her eyes were inquisitive, but cloudy with what you could only identify as concern.

It didn’t matter what covered your face, alone for your eyes as long as it was covered. Most chose a bandana or strip of cloth that wasn’t too thick or thin.

There was something sacred about eyes and eye contact.

Before she was used to living a life where people were taught to avoid looking her in the eye. They often bowed, and stayed looking at the ground or just past the side or above her head. It was a sign of respect.

But now Amiyra new it was a window into one’s soul. Where the rest of one’s face may be covered, your spirit and the true essence of who you were was laid bare for everyone to see in your eyes..

At first it scared her. She grew up only having gazed into the eyes of her parents and siblings. Her friends and occasional lover of sorts for lack of a better word. Her young flings who held her heart.

But now she is full.

She’s met and is still meeting and getting to know so many wonderful people and she feels connected to them.. she belongs.

She a a part of something. . . In every way of the word.

She isn’t an out of touch monarch juggling her fleeting bits of humanity, but a member of a society.

“No,” Amiyra made sure her eyes glowed with how happy she truly was at the thought of Ben, “he … he almsot fits in with me and my children.” She issued, searching for the right words. “He adores them, and they like having him around.”

“Well if he ever becomes a bother, you know where to find us.” Mimi finally added. Her eyes shifted back to a more regular expression.

A skill she has noticed many times, but has yet learned to master.

She was told many tales of how everyone used to wear the same armor as the King and a select few, but since that is not a requirement anymore of all the citizens of Manda’lor. They have learned new skills of concealment.

While all but your eyes may be covered. Some chose to wrap their heads as well and others maybe even wrapped their hair too, they learned how to let their eyes reveal certain things or not. With a blink, Amiyra court see worry, concern, or joy in someone’s eyes morph into nothing. A contempt void of neutrality she found sometimes bone chilling if not mesmerizing.

She needed to learn that.

“You must be careful with Ben.”

Amiyra’s eyes widened as she looked back at Mimi. A long stretch of silence had feel between them as they focused on harvesting, enjoying the sounds of nature and the splashes of water.

“His intentions are always good of heart. . . But he forgets himself.” she paused in thought. . . He may not always be here when you need him.”

Amiyra new exactly what she was talking about.

Ben was just as fleeting as Din.

Din worked for the King, but Ben… well she wasn’t sure what his deal was.

At first she thought he was an important figure of the village. That he somehow represents them, he goes off, does dangerous and sometimes great things,and he comes back to give everything he has gained back into the village.

She’d seen it too many times to count. They’d done the dance of last good byes and when will I see you again more times than she could count. Each and every one leaving her heart aching..

Ben always came back, Din eventually turned up with more sweet words and re-assurances once they could finally get a moment alone with one another, but when would it stop.

Who was she goin to get to spend the rest of her days with? Which one did her children love more? Who filled that void she so desperately needed?

What was a relaible warmth she oculd fill her home with and what were the cold things left blowing in the wind never to return.

“I.. I don’t know if I can rely on Ben,” Amiyra found herself saying, “But I like it when he’s here. Right now. . thats enough.”

Mimi studies her for a moment before nodding at her. Her eyes shone again with its usual unwavering glow that revealed nothing but what she wanted others to see. A more casual everyday look for friends or aquaintences.

“You have your wits about you.”

That was probably the nicest thing Mimi’s ever said to her. . .

She was making friends!

______

Being home alone was the worst.

She couldn’t remember what it was called.

The layer of skin that was so thin, it was hard to see. It rested between the outermost top layer and the one that held all the fleshy bloody parts of you from spilling out that was on the bottom.

It felt like small little bugs were crawling all over it. It felt like someone had somehow set it on fire. She wanted to rip her top layer of skin off and let the air cool it down. She wanted to scream, to hit something or someone.

Amiyra hadn’t been alone since she had her children, and she feared she might not be able to make it without them, not even for a few days.

Since Jazzy was gone with her child free for all battle for the next week or two, she let Sammy stay with Paz and Penny so he'd have someone to play with, He’s not used to it only beng just them, and the new environment might distract him for the fact his sister isn’t going to be home.

He’d also taken a liking to Paz’s oldest boy.

Thankfully, they got along very well and Ragnar, seemed more than glad to have a little brother to follow his every move and try to do everything he did.. Even if Sammy was too small to understand what exactly was going on or what Ragnar might be doing, they had fun all the same.

They offered for her to stay too, but Amiyra politely declined.

She tried sleeping a little, but only tossed and turned. She couldn't find anything to settle the uproar in her stomach. A nibble of anything just made it worse. Tea of any kind was too much, so she hoped drinking sips of water when she could manage would ease something within her.

The middle of the night had reached its peak, and the sky was moonless. It was time for Amiyra to make her way into the thick corner of the woods where she met Ben every other week’s time. The usual bugs that chirped and buzzed underneath the stars were silent. The wind itself was still. It was as if the Maker himself was wielding his mighty power for their night alone to be truly that in every way. That their union was so special it was rewarded a secret privacy held to none other.

Slipping past the guards at the village’s entrance was tricky, but not undoable.

Mandalorains are very keen and attentive. They are culturally alert and poised for anything to happen at any moment. A stark contrast to her leisurely upbringing.

Amiyra learned how to survive well on her own, but as wary and careful as she was about her surroundings and the places she went, it had nothing on what Mandalorians were capable of.

She’s always being berated for her lax state of awareness by her teachers, peers, and elders.

Luckily for her, the more time she spent sneaking off with Ben, the more she learned “to be aware”...

“Whos there?”

Shit.

She stepped on a twig.

Amiyra remained still. She was hidden in a cluster of large bushes. She quickly ran through a list of scenarios in her mind. If she lays till enough perhaps they'd think she was a small animal, or maybe–

A rustling sound came from the opposite end of the clearing a stretch from where she was and they quickly followed the sound in that direction.

“You’re too loud.” a voice sounds lowly in her ear.

“I had it handled.” Amiyra huffed in a whisper.

“No,” Ben wrapped his arms around her and held her against his chest in a firm but gentle embrace, “You didn't.”

‘You’re distracted.’ he murmured further. “It takes time for one’s silent awareness to become an afterthought. It takes time for it to be as natural as breathing or walking.”

“I've mostly fought and done dangerous activities on desert planets. It only takes the slide of feet, quiet breathing, following the opposite side of the wind, and avoiding the sun.

Ben slowly let her go and they walked side by side. Their arms brushing one another. They were walking so closely together that taking a step without almost tripping over each other’s feet was hard to avoid, but they somehow managed.

Their unclasped hands brushed together without a thought. Their pinkies twirling around one another in a familiar dance.

The feeling made her at ease.

When else could they be this close? They couldn’t see one another, but the trade off was more than pleasant.

It was alluring, exciting, tempting, and addictive.

Where else could he lay her down in the grass and climb on top of her without worry? Where else could they breathe in one another’s air?

When else could she run her hands through his hair as she pleased? Taking her time, running her hands forwards,and backwards, in slow circles and patterns as he lay his head on her chest? Until she found the right stroke or touch that left him humming her favorite song for only her ears to hear.

Where else could he lick into her mouth and devour her until her lungs screamed and bribed with a need for air so great? That even once he broke that first painful kiss he stole several more in between each gasp of breath. Leaving her more and more desperate with each one. Which one did she need more? Him or air?

She would never tire of the full weight of his body on hers. The warmth he exuded. The feeling of his heart beat in hers. She clawed his shirt off his back, and he equally swept off the tank she had on. Despite the warm heat of the night and it’s lifeless breeze, they wanted more.

Needed it.

They needed to feel each others skin. Ben needed to kiss every nook and curve, each bump and scar of hers in the dark. When he found the one along her collar he bit down on it after licking it, and she cried out into the night air.

It was his favorite.

“Why do you love that one so much?” She panted.

“If what made that mark had took you, we wouldn’t be here now. I wouldn’t be able to do this” he kissed down Amirya’s body and forced her legs over his shoulders with such great force and quickness she couldn’t comprehend, “or this.” He licked into her, spreading her open with his tounge.

Lapping into her as if the wet essence of Amiyra was the only thing he needed as if she were the last drink he needed else he died…. As if it could fix him.

He meant every word.

She could tell he meant every word. With any normal man she would have found the time to tease him for it. She would have written it off as something sweet to say in a tender moment, but not Ben.. he was serious. More serious than most.

Ben was as serious as another Mandalorian man you had met and it haunted her.

She still dreamed of Din.

She still thought of the moment they shared, the promises he made to her. The phantom feeling of his hands on her body were growing weaker and weaker. It was a ghost of a memory she wouldn’t let stop haunting her.

Even now as Ben fulfilled every need she had, she couldn’t shake the thought of him.

Even as he licked her clit just the right way and pumped his strong thick fingers into her with abandon. Stroking and curling at just the right angle, filling her whole and completely.

She though of the promises Din had made. How he was filled with such conviction when he said them.

What was he waiting for?

Did he still mean it? Were they strong and solid? Did he hold them tightly to his chest as he attended to whatever business he did as king? Was he simply just tooo busy?

Or was she a long and forgotten memory? Not a ghost or thought, but scattered in the wind.

A dust he let sprinkle through the air once he made it back into his world.

As she came on Bens toug with a cry, she made a silent plea for Din.

She prayed to the maker he’d keep their promises strong enough for Din to taste them. That he wouldn’t let them settle into a dust of regret.

She prayed he’d keep his promise.

[bleepyear]

Dinfeld Fairytale AU anyone?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 25

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: 😁.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen snores in her bed. At last, peaceful. You leave her as she is, piled in bedclothes amid the glow of the low-burning fire. You emerge into the corridor, silent, and the door drags closed with a scrape at your cautious pull. The shadow by the pillar shifts.  

You glance over at the guard. Gilles has been relieved of his watch and another man stands in his place. You think you recognise him. He must’ve been one of those which helped the queen seize your cart. The road feels so very long ago and yet there is still much ahead of you. 

“Hold,” the guard warns and gives a whistle, the noise echoing along the high ceilings.  

There’s scuffling further down and you turn to face another silhouette, this one slender and lithe like a wraith. Ezme steps into the light of a lamp and stare at you placidly. She beckons with a hand. 

“Come, maid, I will show you your quarters,” she says. 

You bow your head and go to her. It is unusual you wouldn’t be left to find your way to the servants wing yourself, likely near the kitchens, and yet you are much too weary to question any of it. She turns and you walk at her side. The promise of sleep, even if only a little, has you aching to recline. 

The corridors are quiet but for the soft pad of your footsteps. Fewer lamps light the way than in the daytime and the path grows black. You follow the stirring of the women next to you as she carries on. She touches your arm to stop you, nudging you to the right. You wait and listen as she lifts a latch, the metallic noise cutting through the din, and hinges creak loudly. 

She guides you into the dark chamber by your wrist. It is lit only by moonlight and a brazier burning at the foot of a broad bed. The door clanks shut and you shiver. Ezme moves around you, her skirts brushing your own, and she goes to the low mattress. You squint, these are not servants’ rooms. The bed frame, the brazier, the space swathed in darkness; more often, bodies crowded over bags of hay or on the scant tatters of blankets. 

“You will sleep here,” she says softly, “with me. You will be safe.” 

“Safe? From what?” You croak and rub your cheeks as they burn with fatigue. 

“Need you ask,” she replies knowingly, “it is much too late for those questions. Come, lay, the morning will be upon us swiftly.” 

You don’t argue. She is right. You go to bed and remove your apron and cap. You fold them and put them to the foot of the mattress. She moves a dark square over the blankets towards you. You pause and reach to touch the obscured shape as the dim light offers only vague outline. It’s soft, furry. You feel around and find the familiar rough patch sewn into the lining. It’s the king’s cloak. 

“You will want to keep that close,” she says, “the soldier made certain to leave it for you.” 

“Bryce?” You wonder aloud, “is he your friend?” 

“He is a familiar face,” she shrugs and pulls her dress over her head. “The Lord of the Castle likes him well enough.” 

You shift the cloak over your apron and strip off your outer layer, standing only in your shift. You mirror the maid across from you and slip beneath the thick blankets. A sigh escapes you as your muscles finally release the tension of the day. She is still on her back as you lay upon your side, staring at the low flicker of the brazier against the wall. 

Curiosity nips at your exhaustion. How does a servant come upon a room like this? Is it simply at your expense? For whatever reason Bryce has bid her to keep you close. Certainly, the old soldier is overly cautious. 

Your eyes close before you can think very much on the unexpected resting spot. The day has been turbulent and full of many surprises. You only dread those that await you on the morrow. 

⚔️

Ezme wakes you from a heavy slumber. You both dress in the morning hue, rinsing from a basin before you face another day. You leave the cloak on the assurance it will be waiting for you. A thought glimmers of what the king might think should it go missing. Would he blame you? 

You emerge and part from your nocturnal companion. You procede to the queen’s chambers to find them open and the corridor a titter. A pair of servants, themselves dozy, carry one of her chests through as her shrill cry careens through. You approach as the steadfast guard with the fiery hair watches you with narrow eyes.  

You peer within and find the Queen Jazlene digging through the contents, tossing fabrics without a care, in a desperate search. You are stunned to find her awake with the sunrise but not disheartened. It might be a good omen. 

"Where is it?" She throws her hands up and scowls as her eyes skim around, "you," she points in your direction, "where is my blue dress? The one with the silver lace? It must be here!" 

"Your highness, perhaps another chest," you step inside. 

"You did remember to pack it, didn't you?" She accuses as she stands, "I did bid it." 

"Yes, your highness," you affirm, though it was Merinda who would've taken the order. "Shall I go look in the luggage?" 

"Oh, yes, you shall," she struts toward you, "I will not be dressed as some northern wench for the banquet." 

Banquet? You withhold your curiosity and bow your head. You have a task and it is always better to tend to it without question. 

You spin and hurry from the room. You nearly collide with another servant, a tray in their hands. Another chore you needn't attend. You press on and find your way through the kitchens to the rear of the castle.  

The luggage remains mostly in the stables which entails a venture into the wintry without. You mourn the cloak upon the foot of the bed but it would be worse to flaunt the king's patch so heedlessly. You tuck your hands into your sleeves and put your chin down before you push through, the door resisting your strength as the wind blows against it. 

You stagger through and the heavy wood slams just as quickly as you clear its breadth. The gales are strong but the snow has relented. You see dark bodies speckled amid the white as powder dusts up in heaps. The servants work to clear away the thick piles and make pathways around the castle's yard. 

You cross to the stables and delve into the stink of horses and hay. The beast nicker and neigh as you pass as others doze without notice. You find the luggage, chests still upon carts as others litter the unswept floor. If you find the dress, it might just reek of horse. 

You recognise the crest of Debray upon a chest and the painted sides of a few others. You unstrap several lids and raise them, the cold nipping but sweat rising nonetheless. The longer you sift through the contents, the number your hands and fingers become, the clumsier you are. 

A patch of blue, so pale and shiny it's almost white, gleams from beneath the heaps of cloth. You yank upon it, bringing out several other gowns with the effort, and claim victory. You do not neglect to suss out a pair of slippers and a hair net you think might go with it. You set it aside and pack away the mess you've made, breathless from the expense. 

You hug your lot and curl around the next row of horses, searching out Daisy as she leans her head against Chestnut's dark neck. Their eyes widen at your approach and they huff almost in time. You pat their noses before you apologise that you must leave them. 

Once more, the violent gusts greet you in the open, sending a spiral of snow around you and dusting you with the chill. Your teeth chatter as the wind pushes you from behind and fill your skirts. You can hardly aim your steps as you end up against the castle wall, sidling along until you're at the door. 

Within, the cold follows and lingers in your bones. You flit through the kitchens, pots steam as the large ovens blaze and bodies cluster and clash. You barely avoid a collision as you pass into the corridor. As you step around one figure, another appears. 

“Aye, there the mouse is,” Bryce greets as he folds a leaf around his finger, readying it to pop in his mouth, “I see she’s got you at work already.” 

“Sir,” you stop before the soldier, “how was your night?” 

“Eh, dark,” he shrugs, “and you? The other maid saw to ya?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very good. If ye can, stay close to that one at the feast,” he girds, “she’s wise. She knows well how to bide the shadows.” 

You nod and hug the fabric, another shiver flowing through you. He tilts his head as he continues to play with the leaf between his fingers. 

“Don’t tell me you were outside without a cloak,” he accuses, “where’s yours, then?” 

“Sir, it was only for a moment--” 

“This cold does not soften for summer maids,” he tuts and shakes his head, “you will make yerself sick and who should have to deal with it, hm? Who should have to hear the king rant of it?” 

“Apologies, I was only in a rush,” you pout. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he steps closer and touches the dress in your arms, “in a rush for flimsy gown. These halls are too cold for satin.” 

“The queen bids it--” 

“Oh, I would expect,” he chortles. 

You purse your lips, slanting them one way then the next, as you recall your task. You watch him pinch the silk before he rescinds his reach. He puts the leaf in his mouth and chews. 

“You said feast and the queen said banquet? Is that this evening?” You wonder. 

“Certainly, is,” he sucks on the sweet leaves, “Lord Vesemir would celebrate our departure most fervently but as any good winter lord, he would not send his guests out in the cold without full bellies.” 

“Oh,” you utter thoughtfully. 

“And I suppose, it will appease the queen,” he adds, “for a time before she is once more miserable in the wildlands.” 

“And we are to leave on the morrow?” 

“Aye, by the nightfall,” he crosses his arms. “They must clear the pass and ready the horses and carts. It will be a labour but best we move on.” 

“I believe so too, sir,” you teethe your lip. 

“Aye, you are prudent, as ever,” he lowers his gaze to the floor, “mouse.” 

You shift on your soles and exhale solemnly, “I must...” 

“Yes, very well, go on to your queen,” he steps aside, “I must find our king. I suspect he might be hounding the lord of this castle, if not sparring with him.” 

There is a reluctance between you as you carry on your way; Bryce to one wing and you to the other, as if to mark the divide of king and queen. You come up the stairs and hurry along, the queen’s doors still ajar. Her voice carries still and servant scuttles out as a plate is hurled after them, crashing onto the floor as it narrowly avoids their foot. 

You slow and cautiously peek into the room. The queen shakes her head and pinches a morsel of brown meat on her plate, eyeing it with scrutiny. For a moment, her face twists, then she forces herself to shove it in her mouth. She chews as a battle rages across her features. 

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and she gulps down her mouthful. She stands, nearly overturning the stool upon which the tray rests. She brings her hands up as she storms over to snatch your armful. You back away as she lets the dress unfurl and you bend to gather up the slippers and hairnet as they fall. 

“Ah, wonderful, a proper attire for my first proper appearance as queen,” she beams and dances around with the dress, “oh, my hair, my hair. You must braid it for me.” 

She lays the gown on the bed and gives it a longing touch before she retreats. She clammers to the plain wooden table upon which she’s had a looking glass propped up. She leans forward as you stand behind her. Her hair remains in the braids she’s worn for some time, looking wilted and ratty from neglect. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“I suppose the king feels horrid for his display yesterday,” she preens at herself. “He must realise he cannot keep a lady like me cooped up.” 

You think to mention that it is more send-off than anything. That is on Lord Vesemir’s whim, rather than King Geralt’s. At least that’s how you have it. Yet, you know well not to argue. Let Jazlene believe as she well and the world is always a bit more pleasant. 

You set to undoing her hair, gently as you notice how dry it is, whether from the cold or the air. She snaps her fingers and demands another servant bring her the tray off food. She picks at it as you unwind her hair and let it free. 

She looks at herself one way then the other. She smiles and wipes her mouth with her sleeve.  

“I am still pretty, aren’t I?” She asks, “I will be after the child comes, won’t I?” 

You swallow and nod, “yes, your highness.” 

“Gilles, Gilles,” she chimes and waves a hand, “come, come,” she turns in her seat and you pull away from her, not wanting to tug on her locks. “Tell me, how pretty am I?” 

The man steps into the doorway and clears his throat. He looks as sheepish as you’ve ever seen. You glance back at Jazlene as she poses and bats her lashes. 

“You are beautiful, my queen, as the summer sunsets,” he avows. 

There’s a click in your head, a wriggle in your chest, and a churning in your stomach. No. No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t betray her marriage. 

Yet you thought the very same of her husband. That’s different. The king rules all, even the queen. And that she so garishly flaunts her fleeting affections. But how can you judge, when your own folly looms over you like a cloud? 

You think of the king’s story; Cerrill and Wynifred and their forbidden romance. It tints in a different effect now, it aligns more evenly, for you do not see this ending well for either queen or guard should they stray. Just as you don’t see yourself faring any better. 

[freesia-writes]

Originating from this post, I'd like to offer a list of longfics featuring TCW/TBB characters for those of you looking for some good reads! Feel free to drop any others into my asks! Fics are general audience or PG-13 unless noted "Mature" at the end.

The links are mostly to the post with the authors' descriptions so you can get a better idea of what each one is about!

Crosshair

Sharp Edges - @spicy-clones and @lightwise - Crosshair x F!Reader - Mature

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy - @badbatchposts - Crosshair x OC plus Batch/others - Mature

When the Order Fell - @victimofdavefiloni - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Caught in the Crosshairs - @silverwings22 - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Half-Moon Glow - @moonstrider9904 - Crosshair x OC; TCW AU - Mature

Roasted, Brewed, and Served with Attitude - MelMorganne99 - Crosshair x OC in Modern Police AU

It Never Rains - @letsquestjess - Crosshair x OC

Sunflowers and Blasters - @523rdrebel - Crosshair x OC

Only What Burns You Back - @the-little-moment - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Tech

Tech and Vel - @freesia-writes - Tech x OC

Song of the Sea - @silverwings22 - Tech x Alien OC - Mature

Tech as a Father - @missfrieden - Tech and Batch

Gravitation - @moonstrider9904 - Tech x OC AU - Mature

Meltdown - @autistic-artistech - Tech x OC - Mature

Brother, Hold Me Up - @lifblogs - Tech, Batch, Others - Mature

The World Goes Cold - @lifblogs - Tech, Batch - Mature

Hunter

Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt - @freesia-writeswrites - Hunter x OC

Hunter and the Librarian - @clonethirstingisreal - Hunter x OC - modern day AU

Sun and Rain - @photogirl894 - Hunter x OC

As Iron Sharpens Iron - @arctrooper69 - Hunter x Reader

Echo

Not Just the Carcass, But the Spark - @the-little-moment - Echo x OC - Mature

Test Subject/System Upgrade - @just-here-with-my-thoughts - Echo and the Batch

Rex

Captain's Log - @rexxdjarin - Rex x OC - Mature

Wolffe

I Yearn, and So I Fear - enigmaticexplorer - Wolffe x OC - Mature

The Wolfpack Queen - @reader6898 - Wolffe x OC - Mature

No Strings Attached and Walk Me Home (sequel) - @cyarbika - Wolffe x F!Reader - Mature

Multiple Featured Characters

Rise of the Clones - @AmberOwl24 - SO MANY CHARACTERS!

Stars Beyond Number - @dystopicjumpsuit - Clone Rebellion Echo x Riyo, Gregor x OC - Mature

The Moonwalker Series - @moonstrider9904 - Batch x OC (love triangle then single pairing) - Mature

Line of Destiny: A Series - @ilikemymendarkandfictional - Multiple Stories: Rex x OC, Crosshair x OC, Clone OCs and Howzer

Same Heart - @dumfanting - F!Reader x TCW Echo, then Fives, then Echo/Cross Poly - Mature

Blood Daughter - @letsquestjess - OC + Bad Batch Adventure 

A Lupe of Faith - @lonewolflupe - Jedi!OC x Fives, later x Hunter - Mature eventually

Stronger Together - @cloneflo99 - Rex/Crosshair x OC - Mature

Other Clones

Quantum Entanglement - @freesia-writes - Howzer x OC

Martyrs and Kings - @dystopicjumpsuit - Post-Stasis Kix x OC - Mature

The Only Exception - @starqueensthings - Howzer x OC - Mature

Disillusioned - @amberskyyking - OC + OC Clone Squad Adventure - Mature-ish

The Helmeted Hunter - @jedimasterlenawrites - Boba Fett x F!Reader - PG-13

Children of Providence - @ladysongmaster - Din Djarin, TCW Characters Adventure

The Last Word - @ariadnes-red-thread - Fives x OC

One Step at a Time - @wild-karrde - Clone OC - Mature

Welcome to the Outpost - @just-here-with-my-thoughts - Mayday!!

[604to647]

Fics that Live in My Mind, Rent Free (Pedro's Version) - Part 1

Happy NYE! 🥳🥳

I read so many wonderful, hot, gut-wrenching, unforgettable, inspiring Pedro Pascal character fanfics... and I haven't been reblogging them 🫣 (it's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me). Don't hate me please - reblogging gives me so much anxiety, and I'm not even sure I could articulate why if I tried - and I see a lot of the discussion/discourse/posts re: reblogging and I truly understand all perspectives although it just seems to elevate my nerves about even more.

However, I understand the impact and moreover, I want to do it for the writers that bring me so much joy and inspiration, so I endeavour to try. I want to make it clear that this is a personal hang up of mine, and I have 100% absolutely no comments on how anyone else engages here; reblog/comment/like or don’t per your own preferences and you have nothing but love from me 😘

So it will be a 2024 personal goal of mine to be less shy about reblogging, but while I work up my courage/practice, I wanted to go back and compile a list of some of my fave Pedro boy fics; I think of each and every one of these fics often and have revisited them all (i.e. Exactly the fics I should have reblogged when I read them). I went deep in my likes so some of these fics are quite old; you may have already read them all! If you have or haven’t, I hope you love them as much as I do!

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian, GOAT)

Boxer!Din AU by @djarinsbeskar (Boxer and his masseuse, who relaxes him in more ways than one. I've mentioned before that this is the first Modern Din AU I ever read and it's cemented itself as one of the best. Making Safest with You Din an ex-boxer is my humble homage.)

Freu(Din)an Slip by @saradika (Is there space porn in the SW universe? Yes.)

Bare by @charnelhouse (part of an AU between Din and bounty hunter!reader; other favourite instalments include Come and Conquer and Din's Ex)

A Bond to My Soul by @whiskeynwriting (King!Din and reader, with a battle just outside the doors)

Mine also by @whiskeynwriting (Jealous Din, no need to say more)

Beloved series by @groguspicklejar (Din falls in love with Cyare; mind the tags - the writing is rich and the emotions deep)

Courting by @writerlyhabits (another Mandalorian tries to court you and Din's having none of that)

Hold me down by @starlightmornings (Din as your weighted blanket)

Be Mine by @spacecowboyhotch (Glove kink)

Save a Speeder, Ride a Mando by @sprout-fics (I love fics where Din is jealous of Cobb)

Helping Hand and Did you miss me? by @mellowswriting (Din smut and fluff; they're in love, okay?)

Fix you by @roguetonorth (Comforting Din)

Rough Day by @no-droids (I think everyone knows about this fic; Sweet Girl!Reader holds a special place in my heart)

Take me to Church by @frannyzooey (Western AU; seriously one of the hottest and most romantic series I've ever read. I cried several times 🥹)

Flowers & Sex by @221bshrlocked (Din and innocent!Reader)

Show me by @moralesispunk (A bounty gets mouthy)

Patience by @oscarseyebrow (Starts with cockwarming)

Close Quarters by @absurdthirst (One bed/bunk)

Reunion by @heybluechild (Breaking in the N1)

Significant by @softlyspector (Din calls Reader "Riduur"; I love, love, love Mando fics with lots of Mando'a; so much care is always taken by the writers to translate and weave the words into the story)

Din takes out his frustrations by @ourautumn86

Javier Pena (Narcos)

Burn for Me by @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis (Reader teases Javi; it backfires)

Use me by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Javi is frustrated)

Needy by @wheresarizona (Reader is going to be late for work 🤭)

Reader brings Javi dinner at work by @forthetears

Joel Miller (TLOU)

Bad Girl by @seventeenpins (The first in a hot stepdad!Joel Miller series)

The Boss' Bunny by @talaok (The first in a series about QZ criminal boss Joel and his insatiable bunny)

Help! I'm Stuck! by @nosesitter (Oof! Father-in-law!Joel Miller and his OF daughter-in-law; 2 in the series so far)

Stripped by @thot-of-khonshu (Mr. Miller goes to a strip club)

Stay in Bed series by @psychedelic-ink (Neighbour Joel, pre-outbreak)

A Man Like Him by @valerinaswriting (No one should question Joel's abilities)

Mine by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Reader wears Joel's shirt on accident)

You Are My Cinema by @itgetsdark-x (Camgirl!Reader)

An Afternoon with Your Dad's Best Friend by @elvinaa (I mean, it's in title 🤭; I actually always secretly wish for a sequel to this one)

Come and get your love by @sunflowersteves (Sunshine!Reader)

Francisco "Catfish" Morales (Triple Frontier)

Kinktober 2022 - Erotic Photos by @moralesispunk (Reader gifts Frankie a Polaroid camera)

Thirds by @haylzcyon (Reader visits new boyfriend Frankie at work)

Grass is Greener by @haylzcyon (Frankie mows the lawn)

Kinktober 2022 - Overstimulation by @flightlessangelwings-updates (This was my introduction to pussy eating king Frankie)

Cabin in the woods by @guess-my-next-obsession (The cabin is spooky but Frankie is there to take care of Reader)

Double Feature (and all of the Box Set Universe) by @frannyzooey (Frankie and Reader love movies)

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

Little Red's Shadow by @littlemisspascal (Werewolf!Pero 🥹)

In my dreams by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Princess falls for a mercenary)

Tim Rockford (Merge Mansion, all 48 seconds)

A Sight for Sore Eyes and Sir by @ozarkthedog (Semi-public sex)

Anything you say can and will be held against you by @jksprincess10 (Workplace rivals)

An Important Appointment by @boliv-jenta (Sex worker!Reader)

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

A present by @radiowallet (Lingerie prompt; Cat writes some of the best Marcus Moreno fics on here imho. This one is my personal fave)

First Date by @absurdthirst (Workplace FWB)

The Date by @wardenparker (Professor!Marcus but also Marcus on a motorcycle)

Part 2 of list

[roughdaysandart]

Mando/Joel Miller x Twilight AU

(I got xhorny again)

somewhere I saw that Twilight is getting a reboot and they suggested that pedro be casted as Charlie and my god i need this desperatley. Left panels are if Din had a daughter (AWWWW), right panels are if Joel Miller's daughter (i think she died or someting) grew up.

@lastresortacontact

@the-mandawhor1an @zaddymandalorian @basiclauren @aduialwen @autumnwoodsdreamer @kyberblade @yomi345345345 @mandoloriancookie @blogsamm56641me @the-color-is-black @bucketsofmonsters @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf @thefrogdalorian @king-of-ashes-and-monsters @ultranerdygirl @lunamothgoth @public-charmer @mosssbawls @badwolfandtimelords @tyra-13 @mboogie3 @vanishedangels @absolute-thottery

@dindjarindiaries @joelsbloodyhands @djarins-cyare @wrathkitty @burntheedges

literally copying and pasting a tag list from a bunch'o of other blogs because I am too lazy to construct me own is that bad? Sorry to anyone who was left wondering why a random account tagged them, but I hope you enjoyed the post anyway!

@harriedandharassed @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @anoverwhelmingdin

@myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123

@joelalorian @untamedheart81 @ashleyfilm @jessthebaker @jeewrites

@peekyourinterest @paleidiot @mithicakurogo @theclairvoyage @lizzie-cakes

@islacharlotte @syd-djarin @copperhalfcent @vabeachazn @spacedoutdaydreamer

@littlevenicebitch69 @secretelephanttattoo @pigeonmama @vickie5446 @sunnytuliptime

@glizzymcguirex @verymiraclemiracle @friskispunk @jennaispunk @darkheartgatita

@brittmb115 @bunniboo0015 @almostfoxglove @whocaresstillthelouvre @thesluttylittleknee

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @chrysochromulina @msjarvis @cuteanimalmama @djarins-cyare

and the folks who were mad at me lol: @sheepdogchick3 @guelyury @mboogie3 @schnarfer @myfangirlinessononeblog

@the-mandawhor1an @guiltyasdave @roughdaysandart @djarinmuse @jolapeno

@here-briefly @sawymredfox @djarin-desires

@djarins-wife @joelmillerisapunk

[axelsagewrites]

Robb Stark*Dream

Pairing: Robb x reader (could be modern au or cannon universe)

Summary: Robb questions reader on the dream they had not relaising it had been about him.

Warnings: smut with little plot. Dom Rob. Smut under the cut 18+

Word count: 1175

Masterlist Here

Recently the storms in Winterfell had gotten worse resulting in the wind alone keeping many up all night. This caused many groggy faces in the dinning hall during breakfast, yours being one of them.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Jon asked as you took your usual seat at your table with Jon, Robb, and Theon who were your closest friends at Winterfell.

You nodded as you silently began to butter your bread, a much-needed breakfast after a night of tossing and turning. “Me neither,” Robb said as he poured you a cup of water. “The wind kept me up all night,” Despite his not sleeping the eldest Stark looked as handsome as usual if not more so with his hair still slightly messed up from his own late night struggles. In a way it was his fault for you sleep troubles.

“It wasn’t the wind,” you said.

Your filter had clearly not woken up with the rest of you as now all three boys were concerned, Robb especially. “Is everything alright? Did something happen last night?” Robb asked.

You did your best to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks as you avoided eye contact with the boys, “Nothing just some weird dreams is all,” You said trying desperately not to look at Robb.

“What kind of dreams?” Theon asked.

---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ----------

“You look so pretty down on your knees,” Robb cooed as he held your jaw, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

“Open,” he commanded, and you gladly complied as he put his thumb in your mouth, pressing on your tongue to keep it open, “Such a good little slut,” Robb praised as you clamped your thighs together hoping for any kind of relief. You craved his touch, his hands all over you but you had to be patient. He had told you this over and over again.

Robb was sat on the edge of his bed with you on your knees, mouth open in front of him. Silence overtook the room as Robb maintained eye contact causing you to squirm and grow wetter by the second as your cheeks began to flush. There was no better sight Robb wished to see. He began to smirk “Am I making you nervous love?” he asked but you didn’t have to say anything for him to know your answer.

Robb tightened his grip and forced your head back to look at him. “Keep your eyes on me love. Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked causing a warm feeling to crawl in your stomach with his words alone. You nodded but it wasn’t enough for him, “Use your words sweetheart,” he said as he slid his thumb out of your mouth to rub it across your bottom lip, coating it with your own saliva.

You placed a kiss to his thumb. “I’ll be good,” you said, your voice almost a whisper as you gazed up at the man in front of you.

Robb leaned down so that his face was a couple inches from yours. “I’ll be good, what?” His breath fanned your face as he spoke.

“I’ll be good my king. I promise. Ill do everything you ask of me,”

Robb came even closer, his lips brushing yours. It took everything not to close the gap, but you knew if you did you would be punished. Though the idea of that was enough itself to make you blush. “Everything?” he asked, and you could only nod in response, too wound up to even think and he had barely even touched you.

Robb pulled back and your lips followed, yearning for his touch, his kiss, anything. Your knees were aching on the solid wood floors, but it was all worth it for the knot bubbling in your stomach. Robb laughed at your attempts to follow him before taking his hand off your face to loosen his trousers to reveal his already hard member. He held it in one hand and brought the other to the back of your neck, his feather light touch sending shivers down your spine.

“You wanna serve your king?” he asked, and you nodded profusely as your legs clamped together in excitement. “Suck my cock,” Robb demanded, and you quickly complied.

Your hand took his place around the base of his shaft, and you looked up at him for approval before you started. Robb nodded down at you and you began to give his member kitten licks around his tip causing him to groan. His hand found your hair, tangling in your locks. Spurred on by his reaction you took him into your mouth and began to move up and down as he began to let out the most animalistic growls by your actions causing you to speed up more, using your hand on what didn't fit.

“Fuck,” Robb groaned as he looked down at the sight of you sucking him off, “You take me so well,” he praised, “Can you take me all the way?” he asked but his tone was challenging.

You tried but as he hit the back of your throat you gagged slightly. Robb hummed, “You can do better than that love" he cooed as his grip tightened on your hair. "Double tap my thigh when you need me to stop love,” he warned as he held your head in place and began to buck his hips. His thrusts grew quicker with each one as he began to fuck your face, your nose started to nudge and hit against his pelvis.

You moaned as his member began to assault your throat and the vibrations only spurred Robb on, “Fuck dove I might just spill from this. Would you like that? My seed coating your throat and mouth like a good little slut,” he said but it was a mix of groans and moans.

Your eyes began to water but the wetness between your legs only grew. The sounds he was making made your body feel like goo and you craved his approval and his praise which he showered you with. Eventually his speed became too much and you tapped on his legs. Ever true to his word Robb pulled you off his cock and allowed you to catch your breath as spit and precum dribbled down your face and off his cock. “That was amazing love,” he said as he stroked your face, not caring that he had turned it into a wet mess. “Do you need some water? Or do you want to stop?” he asked, his commanding tone replaced by care.

“I want,” you started but your voice strained from the attack on your mouth, “you to fuck me,” you finished, and a grin returned to Robbs face.

Robb grabbed your jaw and forced you up and to climb into his lap, “I’m not going to just fuck you love,” he whispered in your ear, still holding your jaw and the touch of his lips to your ear sending shivers down your spine, “I’m going to destroy that little hole of yours,”

---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ----------

“Hello? Anybody home?” Theon snapped you out of your memory as he wove a hand in front of your face.

It was as if you had been right back in your dream as you could feel yourself wet at the breakfast table sitting across from three very confused boys. "Sorry what were we talking about?"

“You were talking about your dreams,” Robb reminded you and you couldn’t stop the flush that overtook your cheeks.

Trying to help your sudden flush you decided to drink the cool water down in one go to try cool your skin but to no avail as now all three boys were staring in concern. You cleared your throat, realising there was no escape, “Just you know. strange dreams. You get me,” you said as you began to stuff your face with bread for an excuse not to talk.

The boys all shared a look before a grin started to spread over Theon’s face, “Did you have a- “

“I will stab you Greyjoy,” you said, mouth half full, with a butter knife in hand. “Don’t you even dare,”

“Oh, my gods you did,”

“What?” Robb asked clearly clueless to the situation, but Jon had caught on as his face began to turn a bright shade of red. “Will somebody clue me in?”

“Nothing Robb. Ignore them,” you said, shooting the others a glare that could cut stone.

Theon smirk and Jon cleared his throat before whispering to Robb that he would explain later causing you to throw your empty cup at his head.

Part two here

[bitchin-beskar]

Hi!! Will you ever write more king Din? It’s my favorite thing EVER!!!!

I will absolutely write more King!Din!!!!! idc if it takes me 10 months or 10 years I will never abandon my king and his darling!!! i have a plan for them and i promise i will give them their happy ending even if we have to suffer a little bit to get there

i hope to have the next installment out sometime this month!!

[noxturnalpascal]

My 2023 Fanfic-Wrapped

I only really started reading Pedro fanfic in April or May, I got started on some of the well-known fics on AO3 that were recommended on tiktok. However, one of them brought me to tumblr (because I wanted to see more from this author, I wanted to see their moodboards and their sneak peeks). And I haven’t left since.

I even decided to try my hand at writing as well. It’s been a LOT of fun. (My masterlist is here if you want to see all the weird shit I wrote so far). Thank you to everyone who has supported me in all my efforts and to all the friends I've made.

I wanted to create this list to highlight some of my faves this year. If you haven’t read these, they all come highly recommended by me.

I'll be reblogging everything on this list throughout the day. If you’d like to reblog this post and add some of your own favorites from this year - PLEASE DO!!!  I would absolutely love to get new recs!! Let’s share the love!!

In no particular Order - Here are some of my favorites from the year!

Fave Writers (I’ll read anything they write)

@toxicanonymity (joel miller masterlist) Personal Faves: NightWalks!Joel, Vamp!Joel (both Ongoing)

@theywhowriteandknowthings (masterlist) Personal Faves: Creep - Joel, Princess and the Duke - Dave York (Ongoing)

@chloeangelic (masterlist) Personal Faves: Love Me Back - Joel, Seeking What is Desirable - Joel (Ongoing)

@goodwithcheese (masterlist) Personal Faves: The Layover - Frankie, Paranoid Heart - Javi P (Ongoing)

@beskarandblasters (masterlist) Personal Faves: Me and My Husband - Din Djarin, New York or Nowhere - Bodega!Joel (Ongoing)

@absurdthirst (masterlist) Personal Faves: Kinktober 2023 Oct 15th - LactationKink!Dieter, A Marriage of Convenience - Regency!PeroTovar, (they have SO many good ones)

Fave Ongoing Series

Mall Rats (Jackson-era!Joel) by @strang3lov3

Oh! Honey (Monster!Joel x Mortician!Reader) by @lincolndjarin

Hard to be Soft, Tough to be Tender (Pimp!Joel) by @iamasaddie

On the Waterfront (Chubby!Mafia!Frankie) by @beefrobeefcal

The King’s Queen (Royalty/ArrangedMarriageAU!Javi G) by @wardenparker

From Eden (PlantShopOwner!Joel x Married!F!Reader) by @5oh5

A Lover’s Pinch (Professor!Joel x Student!Reader) by @hier--soir

Into the Beat of the Night (Bi!Frankie x afab!gn!OC) by @perotovar

Fave Finished Series

A Stranger’s Heart Without a Home (Jackson-era Joel) by @morning-star-joy (This is the one that brought me to tumblr. Doni created this beautiful story and it has a very special place in my heart.)

Late Night Texts (Post-Colombia Javier Peña) by @undercoverpena

Someone’s Wife in the Boat of Someone’s Husband (Married!No-Outbreak!Joel) by @netherfeildren

Something New (SexWorker!Frankie) by @prolix-yuy

Something Wretched About This (DrugDealer!Joel) by @covetyou

Pioneer Frankie (A series of stories about Pioneer!AU!Frankie) by @frannyzooey

Trial & Error (No-Outbreak!Joel helps Tommy & reader get pregnant) by @thetriumphantpanda

Pleased to Meet You (Meeting Francisco Morales - twice) by @intheorangebedroom

Fave Characters

Husband's Best Friend Joel Miller (with Married! Reader) (HBF!Joel) by @gracieispunk

Jackson-Era Vampire! Joel Miller (A Secret Worth Keeping) by @multiversed-daydreamer

Soccer-dad No-Outbreak Joel Miller gets a racy text from an unknown number (The Right Wrong Number) by @proxima-writes

Demon! Ezra (with Witch! Reader) (In Every Lifetime) by @xdaddysprincessxx

Protective Jackson-Era Joel Miller (A Safe Haven) by @joelsgreys

THROUPLE Frankie x Joel x F!Reader (Catalyst Masterlist) by @ezrasbirdie

Sleezy Gas Station Joel *MC* Miller (Meet Me in the Back) by @atticrissfinch

Porn Star Joel Miller (with Porn Star Reader) (I Know it When I See it) by @bageldaddy

Fave Dark/DDDNE Fics (These fics aren’t being put in the corner but they do come with some very special warnings so I wanted to separate them)

Trick or Treat? (DDDNE Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York x F!Reader) by @morallyinept

Bullet For You, Darlin’ (DDDNE Dark!Raider!Joel Miller) by @kewwrites

Online Friends (Cherry Bomb) (Dom!Joel, online/phone sex) by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Blessed Be the Fruit (Dark!DubCon! Joel Miller - Handmaid’s Tale AU) by @romana-after-dark

Red Light (Dark!Obsessive!DubCon! Landlord Joel Miller) by @kiwisbell

The Burglary (DDDNE burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller) by @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape

I don't know man.... I just know I like it

Menuet (It’s an animal/shapeshifter/monster fucking thing (Pero Tovar) that fundamentally changed who I am as a person) by @psychedelic-ink

Liquid Gold (Joel - and Tommy? - help Pregnant!Reader out when an issue arises) by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Get a Grip (Watch Model!Joel Miller x Manicurist!Reader Hand/GloveKink!) by @bonezone44

Mother Who Provides (Mommy!Kink Joel gets breastfed) by @pedge-page

Goodbye 2023, See you all next year!!!!

[usagi-peachs]

more honeymoon🌹✨

[starrylothcat]

Bestie!!! Idk if you're still taking these but if you are, may I please request "you taste like heaven" or "let me stay like this in you for a little bit. " with our beloved Captain Rex?

Heaven

Pairing: Captain Rex x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Smut. Female receiving cunnilingus. A lil teasing/edging. Need I say more? ;)

WC: 490

A/N: I bestow this self indulgent work upon thee 🙇🏻‍♀️. I’m having fun with these naughty prompts, ya’ll are serving up some juicy thots. Enjoy my friend 🥰

When Rex finally lowered his mouth to your desperately wet cunt, you couldn’t hold back the deprived sound that left your lips.

Rex had been teasing you for what felt like hours, kissing and lavishing your inner thighs, barely brushing his lips and fingers over your needy pussy, never giving you what you truly wanted.

You were a quivering, sweaty mess, your words barely coherent as you begged him for more.

Rex let out a pleasured grunt, not able to keep up his Captain charade much longer as he tasted what you were offering him.

Rex languidly circled his skilled tongue around your entrance, still teasing as he gently sucked on your clit.

You writhed, crying out, needing him to give you more.

“Rex…” You panted, not caring how desperate you sounded. “Please…”

Rex hummed into your folds, wanting to draw this out a little longer.

“The longer I take, the more you’ll cum on my tongue.” He locked eyes with you, taking his mouth off your sex momentarily to huskily whisper his desire, before licking a long, slow stripe up your cunt. “It will be worth it, I promise, mesh’la.”

You were white-knuckling the sheets now, sounds you weren’t sure you’d ever made before ripped from your throat, unsure how much longer you could take his teasing.

“R-Rex…” You were so close, teetering on the edge of implosion, almost delirious with want.

Rex must have decided you’ve finally had enough, latching on to your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue in the most delicious, mind-shattering rhythm that hurled you over the edge.

You didn’t care that you were sobbing, your body tensing and toes curling, pleasure so extreme and white-hot you thought you may never come back down from this heaven.

Rex held down your spasming body, working you through the endless waves of ecstasy as you thrashed under his hold.

Rex was right, his face was soaked from your release, feeling it drip down your thighs as he tried to lap up every drop.

You finally settled, gasping for air, voice hoarse and boneless on the bed as Rex gently kissed your folds. Satiated, he climbed up on top of you, gazing down, proud of his work.

“You taste like heaven, mesh’la.” He dropped his mouth to yours, giving you a taste of the nectar he pulled from you. “Told you it would be worth it.”

You could barely speak, your body still thrumming from your intense climax, grasping at his short buzz, needing him close.

You were finally able to string together a coherent sentence, your desire re-igniting as you felt his rock-hard cock press against your soaked thigh.

You brought your lips to his ear, his ragged breath hot on your cheek.

“Now it’s my turn to get a taste of heaven, Captain.”

Taglist: @crosshairlovebot @sev-on-kamino @kimiheartblade @wizardofrozz @clonemedickix @sunshinesdaydream @kashasenpai @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @aconstructofamind @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @sleepingsun501 @cw80831 @dangraccoon @din-miller @mythical-illustrator @eternal-transcience

Dividers by @dystopicjumpsuit

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: double chapter day?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The summer sun brings little warmth to the castle of Debray. Those left behind in the shadow of their lord’s march to war, bide their time with baited breaths and unspoken worries. The duchess sinks into her cups, a nectar to her already sharp tongue, as her daughter buries herself in her wardrobe. 

Lady Jazlene hands you dress after dress, demanding a stitch here or there, only to snatch it back and have you cut the cloth of another to alter yet a third. And a fourth, fifth, sixth. Strips of fabric and loose buttons litter the drawing room table as you and Merinda put your needles to work. 

“Motherrrr,” Jazlene swirls around, swaying her hips back and forth, “it has been a fortnight already.” 

“Your father will return soon,” Lady Rezlyn slurs before she empties her goblet. She has no husband to chide her away from excess. “Never fear, dearest.” 

“That is not—mother, what am I to do? I have no wedding dress!” 

“You have no mind,” Rezlyn snickers, “you will have only rags by the time you decide.” 

“Hm,” Jazlene approaches the table with her hands on her hips, “mother, that gown with the gold lace. The one you wore last solstice--” 

“My gold lace,” Rezlyn sneers, “no!” 

“But mother. I only want the lace. You can have it re-trimmed. It would look much nicer with pearls,” Jazlene whines, “do you not understand? I am to marry a king. I cannot look as some simple countryside daughter.” 

Rezlyn clucks and shakes her head, “if it hushes your endless moaning, have the lace.” 

Jazlene gives a triumphant grin and turns to you. She grabs your arm and the needle catches in the fabric, slipping from your grasp, “go fetch mother’s dress. It is rosy satin.” 

“And wine! Bring more wine,” Rezlyn interjects. 

Jazlene rolls her eyes and flicks you away with her fingers. You hastily retreat as Merinda grimaces at her labour. Your fingers hurt from the endless hemming and seaming and you’ve noticed she’s jabbed herself more than once as the noble daughter changes course back and forth. 

You flit from the chamber and sweep down to the kitchens. The descent into the cellar is lit by only the candle in your hand, the flame wobbling dangerously before you. You find a bottle of the duchess’ preferred and climb back into the light. 

You snuff the tallow and quickly press on you. You climb the stairs again but falter as the wail of a horn breaks the afternoon din. You spin and turn to the window. Several other servants cluster beneath the arched opening as they try to see the horizon. The blast comes again, three in quick succession, followed by a long blare. 

The noise of chain and mail comes from the courtyard below. The few men left behind to man the castle walls are quick to action. You can see the flap of banners and nothing more between the other curious bodies. 

“Who is it? Enemy soldiers?” Waldon wonders. 

“I cannot see, my eyes are dim,” Margite shields her vision from the sun as leans over the sill. Their chatter swirls at the approach. 

“It is them! The Lord’s banner!” Stellan exclaims, “I can make out the sun and the sword on the banner. And the Winter King’s white crown.” 

“They return! They return!” Another cries out, “are they victorious?” 

You shuffle away. You forget about the golden lace and return to the drawing room. You enter and look down at the bottle in your hands. You blink, trying to recall what you were about to do. You set the wine on the table near the duchess as Jazlene seizes your other arm. 

“Where is the dress?” She snarls, “ugh, are you so useless--” 

“They’ve returned,” you utter cluelessy. 

“They...” Jazlene begins. 

“The king and your father, my lady,” you explain, “we saw them through the window. I thought to say so before I went to your mother’s wardrobe--” 

“Quiet!” She shoves you away, “I need a different dress. The crimson slit with ivory. Yes, yes, now!” 

She pushes you again and you stumble to the door. 

“And slippers,” she calls after you, “Merinda! Get over here.” 

You scurry back out and to Lady Jazlene’s chamber. You enter and sort through the mess of her clothing strewn and heaped about. You find the red and ivory dress and a pair of slippers of a similar hue. You are certain to bring a selection of jewels and pins to assuage any further remonstrance. 

In the drawing room, Jazlene has Merinda fixing her hairpins. You approach with your armful and lay it on the table. Outside the walls, you can hear the chaos unfurling. You can hardly keep the noises straight as cogs grind, ropes groan, and the noblewoman carry on their tittering. 

You help Jazlene step into the dress, Merinda holding the other side. As you work at the sleeves and skirts, she fidgets around. 

“The king? The king is with them for sure?” She breaths. 

You nod, “yes, my lady. His banner--” 

“Mother! They have won. They must have.” 

“Do not be too presumptuous,” the other lady rises and nears the table, snatching up a string of pearls, “come. Put these around my neck.” 

There’s banging and knocking and footfalls and voices yelling. The walls cannot keep out the rising fervour. Horse hooves and rusty hinges. They are close, in the castle or more. You pull tight the laces of the dress as Merinda clasps the pearls around the duchess’ thick neck. 

There is someone before the door. A shadow darkens below it for just an instant before it opens. No permission is asked as Lord Dustan clatters in. His eyes is swollen near shut. 

“Daughter, wife, you must come down to the--” 

Heavy, steady steps follow him. You continue to weave the laces through the eyes, going as fast as you can. 

“Father, I am not dressed. I am not ready to receive--” Jazlene protests. 

Dustan looks behind him and backs away from the doorframe. King Geralt fills it with his large figure, a dark cut along his hairline though he hardly seems bothered by it. Otherwise, he is untouched, unblemished. You knot the laces as you peek over Jazlene’s shoulder and his gold eyes shimmer in the low lantern light. 

“Your highness,” Jazlene gasps and drops to a curtsy. You stand, dumbfounded for an instant before you bend your neck and your knee to his status. “We were not warned of your coming. I pray you have tasted victory,” she raises her head slowly, “and we may wed in celebration to ring your reign in the Summer Kingdom.” 

He grumbles as his eyes search the space. Dull yet vibrant at the same time. He tilts his head as his jaw squares, “a king’s wife mustn’t fret so much about silks and wine,” he growls as he breaks the threshold. He marches to the rigid high back chair and lowers himself, “victory is mine but that does not mark the end of my efforts. I have no kingdom until all that which has broken is repaired.” 

“Certainly, your highness, and I will be by your side to help you amend what has been injured. As your loyal wife and queen,” she wilts as she wobbles just a little, “I am only so happy to see you alive and returned.” She rises as straight as she can and sweeps over to him, pushing out her chest, “but not unharmed. Your highness, you have been wounded.” 

She goes to touch the gash along his forehead and he motions her away with a flat palm. 

“It is not dire,” he insists, “Lord Dustan, where is your bishop?” 

“I sent away for him. He will come,” the duke avows. 

“The bishop?” Jazlene looks to her mother. 

“For the vows, precious,” Dustan assures. 

“The vows? Now? Today? But father--” 

“I haven’t time to wait around on paltry feasts and drunken hordes,” the king insists. 

“But-- but--” Jazlene stammers, “I am a queen, I should have a wedding.” 

“You are still but a duke’s daughter,” the king snaps, “a wedding you will have. Let us swear the words as was arranged. Then we must away.” 

“Away? Away?” Jazlene echoes again. 

“Take this parrot away from me,” King Geralt barks as he slams his fist into the arm of chair, “I tire of her squawking. When the bishop arrives, fetch me and I shall keep the oath I made.” 

The edge in his voice cannot be missed on that single word. He is a man who would not break a promise given, not the like the one cowering by the door. You glance up slowly as you notice Jazlene quaking. You can tell by her fists that she is not so much afraid anymore as she is angered. 

“Daughter,” Rezlyn girds and touches her daughter’s arm, “a wife should learn first to obey. Let us go paint your lips and await the bishop.” 

“This cannot be...” Jazlene hisses. 

“Quiet,” Lord Dustan snaps, “you want to marry, you marry as you are told. Out.” 

Lady Rezlyn keeps the duke from grabbing his daughter, instead steering her through the door herself. Merinda follows first and you trail after. The king grumbles, “Debray, leave a maid. She may fetch me that wine.” 

“My lord,” Lord Dustan points you back tersely, “the wine.” 

“Leave me,” King Geralt demands of his fair-weather lord. 

Dustan retreats and shuts the door heavily. You turn and cross to the table where you left the sealed bottle. You put your hand around the neck and lift it. You face the king and cross to him with your head low. 

“Your highness, would you like a goblet?” You ask. 

“I am not interested in imbibing,” he reaches beneath his mail and pulls free a grey handkerchief, “pour it on this.” 

You crack the wax seal of the bottle and grab the bulbous head of the cork. You wiggle it but cannot dislodge it. You struggle with it and he wraps his large hand around the pregnant bottom. 

“Little maid,” he slips it from your grasp and puts the kerchief in your hand. 

The uncorks it with only his thumb, flicking free the stopper, and he reaches out to you. You press the cloth to rim and he tilts it slightly, wetting the fabric. He pulls it away and reaches to place it on the floor. You look at him curiously. He leans forward and runs his index below the gash in his head. You get his meaning and daintily press the damp cloth to his head. 

“The alcohol cleanses,” he says as he leans heavier into your touch. 

“It looks rather painful, your highness.” 

You wince at your own careless words. You don’t know why you said anything at all. He sits in silence, breathing slowly. At last, he sits back and looks at you. You drop your hand and your chin. 

“Might I get you anything else, your highness?” You offer as you fold the cloth into a tight wad. 

“Tell me, how do you fare?” 

“Your highness?” You peek up at him through your lashes. 

“Are you well? Have you rested? Are you fed?” He prompts. 

You raise your head, surprised by his questions. 

“I am well, your highness. I have a roof above me.” 

His cheek ticks, “same as you were. Same as I remember.” 

He puts his head back and closes his eyes. He sighs deeply. You waver before him, unsure what to do next.  

“I don’t mind the cold. My land is frigid most days but I felt a true shiver out there on that road. Even Roach could not ease it.” 

You watch him, awaiting an order, not so well attuned to conversation. More often than not, a response is not warranted, just action. He gives you little direction though he is a man who easily commands. 

“My horse. Stinky steed,” he muses as he keeps his eyes closed, “valiant nonetheless.” He lets out another heavy exhale, “will you mind the door? Wake me when the bishop arrives should I doze?” 

“As you wish, your highness,” you go to the door, taking your usual stance beside it. 

He is still. The amber light of the lantern limns his large figure as he reclines in the stiff chair. He does not move but a man who has ridden to war has slept on worse. You cannot tell if he truly slumbers but you know it is not appropriate to stare. 

You remain in silence. It isn’t so bad to the duchess and her daughter. Almost serene if not for the tension of the man’s presence. A king. A wintry figure with his icy hair and colder demeanour. You do not envy Jazlene, he will be a rigid husband. She will not bowl him over as her mother does the duke. 

You listen beyond the walls, trying to track the activity beyond. There are softer voices you can’t make out, creaks which could be only the wind, and footfalls which are most certainly only servants about their tasks. The tedium stretches on as the lantern light wobbles. 

You stare at the wall opposite. The summer hue breezes in with a hint of pollen between the open curtains. Still the chamber remains dim in stone and mortar. 

There is the crank of the gates and you shift. You turn your head to hear better the entry of a new party. A man’s tenor from below assures you of the arrival. You wait until the footfalls reach the stairs. You do not relish waking the king should he have managed to sleep. 

You look to the king in the chair but find him alert. His eyes are centered on you as he sits straight, golden irises blazing. You gulp and shy away. 

“I believe the bishop has come, your highness.” 

He doesn’t speak or move. He just watches you. His gaze bores until it burns. You fear you might have strayed somehow. 

Finally, he slides to the edge of the chair and stands. He does not seem eager as he makes slow progress towards the door. As he crosses the room, he stops, just before the door, right beside you. 

“A war for a wife,” he mutters, “a barter, I suppose.” He reaches for the metal loop on the door, “come, little maid, we might need a pillow should the lady faint again.” 

[hyperactively-me]

hyperactively me's note / masterlist

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ very important note! read HERE 💌

hey! i just wanted to let y'all know that i'm cross-posting my fics from ao3 onto tumblr. my ao3 link can be found HERE.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

i'll be adding updates to this post. happy reading!

Simon "Ghost" Riley (COD)

all simon "ghost" riley fics (not including king!ghost au) denoted with #*ੈ✩ simon “ghost” riley

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist This Love king!ghost x princess!reader au

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

all din djarin fics denoted with #➶-͙˚ ༘✶ din djarin

Din Djarin Masterlist

COD (general)

COD Holiday/Christmas Masterlist

Coming Soon...

Javier Peña König Poe Dameron Joel Miller and any others i can think of lol