#game of thrones x gender neutral reader

[bumblesimagines]

Headcanon:

Being Oberyn's lover

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

~~~

Oberyn is an infamous man for several reasons, some of which include the rumors of his usage of poison during duels and an interest in the dark arts. Posion-laced swords and dark arts aside, one of the most notable things about him is his multitude of lovers. From men to women, nobles to brothel workers, Oberyn is no stranger to sex and hardly a stranger to love. He may have a wandering eye but his heart remains fiercely loyal to his lovers/paramours and his many daughters whom he deeply cares for despite their bastard status. 

As such, it is no surprise that you catch Oberyn's eye during one of his trips with Ellaria throughout Westeros. He needs little convincing to speak to you and is as smooth as butter when he begins flirting. While he enjoys giggling maidens or blushing lords, his interest spikes when you come off as indifferent to his charm. He is a Dornishman and Dornishmen love a challenge, especially when he notices your eyes linger on him for far too long to be uninterested. 

Of course, Oberyn mentions his interest to Ellaria, for she is essentially his wife and the mother of many of his daughters. Ellaria provides her approval and encouragement, even going as far as befriending you and acting as some sort of wingwoman to her lover. You quickly put together her involvement in Oberyn's plan to woo you and while it's unusual at first, you learn that it's not so odd in Dorne. A cat-and-mouse game ensues and Oberyn's interest becomes all the more clear to others.

Oberyn's main love languages are gift-giving and physical touch, although he'll provide every other love language known to mankind. Since Oberyn's interest extends past sex, you'll be properly courted by him and this will include countless lavish gifts. He is a prince, after all, and his wealth knows little bounds. You can expect a variety of gifts, from clothes to brooches and anything you can think of. You mention wanting something? Expect that very thing sitting in your room the next day. Oberyn is also very handsy with his lovers and always has a hand on them or has them sit on his lap. He's still a prince and gentleman, however, so he will keep his hands to himself until you are comfortable enough with him. Once he has that green light, expect to find his hand resting on your waist or back, and don't be surprised if it wanders.

 You nod along to the lord as he speaks, absentmindedly listening to the conversation about lands and such. None of it really interests you as you're the thirdborn in your family and the likelihood of you ever needing to know much of what he spoke of was slim. The conversation shifts onto his children as he recalls a funny story and then begins the prodding.

"I hear you remain unwed." The Lord hums thoughtfully and strokes his beard. "We've been searching for someone to wed my second eldest-"

"My Lord," A familiar voice greets from behind and sends a welcomed jolt up your spine, unable to contain the smile before it breaks out on your face. Oberyn steps up beside you and his lips curl up in a genuine smile for you, the palm of his hand pressing soothingly against your lower back and slowly creeping to wrap his fingers around your hip. He holds eye contact, even as he speaks to the man. "I'm afraid I'll have to steal this one from you, My Lord." He simply states and without waiting for a response, he sweeps you away from the sputtering lord. 

"Oberyn," You laugh softly and send an apologetic look over your shoulder right before Oberyn leads you fully out of the room. He spins around on his heel and cups your face, his warm skin pressing against yours. His eyes lack their typical sultriness or grumpiness, instead replaced with a fond look that makes you want to look away. He leans forward and kisses you gently. 

"How are you, dearest?" 

Once Oberyn manages to convince the head of your family, you find your belongings packed and ready for Dorne. Oberyn and Ellaria show great excitement and contentment over this, talking about all the things they wish to show you and the people they want you to meet. Dorne is a hot, desert and mountain-covered region but Sunspear is a gorgeous castle surrounded by the ocean and the shadow city. Oberyn's family is welcoming, if not a bit exhausted with him, but they're still warm and kind to you. Though Doran is semi-distant at first, his children are much friendlier and happy to get to know you. After Doran and his children, Ellaria introduces you to the Sand Snakes, Oberyn's countless daughters. Their reactions vary and some are more welcoming than others but all are accepting of their father's decision to take you as a serious lover.

While eager to show you his home, Oberyn first gets you acquainted with your new bedroom and the bed. Oberyn is a versatile lover, although he enjoys being the one in control most times depending on his mood. You can expect to spend a lot of time in bed with Oberyn, and sometimes even with Ellaria. Oberyn is a giver and he'll often have you pinned beneath him until you can take no longer before peppering you with kisses and cooing gentle words in your ear. 

Oberyn is a thoughtful and dutiful lover who ensures you'll never feel left behind or cast away. However, you must be fine with sharing him with others, and even if you find this difficult at times, Ellaria will provide soothing words of advice and comfort. Oberyn will ensure to push away any worries or insecurities and he'll even encourage you to seek out your own lovers, just as long as you always return to him. 

If you are a lady, you can surely expect to fall with child soon after arriving in Dorne. Ellaria, who basically becomes your sister, tends to you and helps you through the process of pregnancy and labor. Oberyn will grow protective during this time and you'll often find him resting his hand over the bump or speaking to it. He'll ensure you are being treated with the utmost care and by the very best. Whether son or daughter, Oberyn will love his child, and the Sand Snakes will be incredibly protective of their newest sibling. 

Oberyn is one of those lovers that still courts you well into the relationship. He continues providing gifts and trying to make you swoon all over just because he feels like it. Getting with Oberyn means having a thoughtful, open-minded lover, a kind sister, and countless deadly stepdaughters willing to fight in your honor if they have to. 

[tinypnut]

Hot take

Is anyone tired of smut? Like don’t get me wrong, I love a good smut filled oneshot but like. Why is it when I go looking for emotion comfort or angst it’s all just smut instead of genuine connection between characters or reader inserts?

Cause like, yeah we’re horny fucks but I just want emotional comfort with Astarion from BG3 cause he lowkey gives demisexual vibes cause of his trauma. Before his character growth I can see smut with him but like, that’s only act 1, the rest of his character growth has him not wanting sex because it makes him uncomfortable and or causes flashbacks for him.

Or like, Aemond or Daemon from House of Dragon, yeah, GOT is like half sex but there is so much more content that can be used to write fics other than smut.

Anyone else feel the same?

[dorkydilf-l0ver]

“Pretty little flower~”

Oberyn Martell fic

Word count: 824

A/N: hihihi my lord I have been inactive on this account. My apologies, but I’ve been lacking motivation and ideas… well, until now. So, hope you enjoy :) also, let me know if you would like a part two as the ending is a little suggestive ;}

The party was dull.

You never thought, after accepting an invite to the Head of House Martells party in the Kingdom of Dorne, that you’d be stuck listening to some old crone ramble on about his riches. You feel your eyes begin to droop, yet they snap right open after they make contact with the reason you came to this party in the first place. Standing across the room, gorgeous face lit with expression as he recalls some amusing anecdote to the guests crowed around him, looking as divine as the rumours warned you.

Prince Oberyn Martell.

The Red Viper.

The handsomest man in all of the Seven Kingdoms.

He does a double take as your eyes meet again, and smiles wide, unintentionally showing off his perfect royal teeth. Then he winks, sending a flock of butterflies flying to your stomach. You feel yourself blush ferociously as you smile back, shyly, at the prince.

You declare some stupid excuse to the old man you’re talking to, muttering that you are too warm and need a minute outside. You leave the room and enter a beautiful garden, find a bench and sit down. Exhaling deeply, you need a minute to collect your thoughts. The pretty prince had muddled them up, making you think only about him, his gorgeous face lit up, his dark brown eyes that you could get lost in, and you find yourself imagining what his beautifully toned body would look like under that golden robe that makes him look like a god.

Good lord.

You realise how down bad you are for a man you’ve never even met, only heard about in stories from people glowing with admiration.

“Well, whatever are you doing out here? Sitting in the garden like a little flower while everyone else is at the party?”

You jump, swivel your head to come face to face with the owner of this smooth, attractive, playful, slightly accented voice.

As soon as you make eye contact you leap off the bench in a hurry.

Oberyn Martell. The Prince of Dorne. The Red Viper. Had just caught you sitting by yourself outside a royal party.

This is not the first impression you wanted to make.

“I’m so sorry, your highness. I was just- uhm- I was only- no offence to your brothers party- I just needed some- erm- air.” You stumble pathetically with your words, praying that you aren’t offending the prince with your unwillingness to be present at the royal celebration, your eye contact with him faltering.

He chuckled, smiling at your attempts, and the sound invited back that pesky flock of butterflies back to your stomach.

“Oh my, little flower, are you shy? Is that why you are out here?” He asks, tone not mocking, but playful, like you’re sharing an inside joke as old friends.

“You’re certainly a pretty little flower aren’t you.” The prince moved forward, face now suddenly more serious, inquiring, seeming interested in taking all of you in as his eyes trail from your head to your toes.

Your face glows red at his words, the blush that so easily overtakes you when an attractive person looks in your general direction, made ten times worse as the most attractive man you have ever seen compliments you. “Thank you, sir.” You say. “I must say, you are even more handsome then the rumours let on”

“Rumours?” He asks, eyebrow cocked. “And tell me, what do these rumours say?”

“Only that you are the most handsome man in all of Dorne.” You shrug, gaining confidence as you converse. Oberyn Martell has turned out to be a very easy person to talk to. “However, I believe these rumours are wrong. You have proven to be the most gorgeous person in all of the Seven Kingdoms.”

His eyes widened in surprise and he smirked at your flirting. “Is that so?” He began to move closer, closing the distance between you, the butterflies moving at max speed in your tummy as he placed a hand on your waist. “Well, it appears that the rumours are wrong.” He leans in, lips to your ear as he whispers. “You, little flower, are the most gorgeous person I have ever seen.”

You gasp at his bold statement, giggling slightly in disbelief. He notices your doubt, cupping your face in his hand. “Seriously, it as if the god’s sculptured you in a way that would make you perfect to me…” He breaks off, lost in a thought. “Tell me, how long are you intending on staying at this party?”

“Well, before you came out here, I was planning on requesting a carriage to take me to my lodgings, but now I believe I will be staying a little longer.” You declare, as your eyes involuntarily flit down to his lips.

He notices you staring, smiles, and moves closer, your lips nearly touching, and it takes all your free will to not close the gap. His hands move up your body as he asks:

“Pretty little flower, would you perhaps~ stay the night?”

[theunburntsblog]

HOTD HEADCANNONS

---

I would like to note I haven't exactly finished got or hotd, but I do know the spoilers.

I just have a hard time watching shows for a long period of time, but I will eventually get to it until then. Here's my gender neutral reader headcannons on HOTD characters thus far.

Also, I'm very conflicted on some characters ermm (daemon and aegon ii) turns around. But in the faith of you guys... I guess I'll engage. If some of your favorite characters aren't here, just request them!!

Reader is non-specific, and no pronouns are used within this! It's implied that the reader is of a Noble House (ex. lannister, stark, mytrell, baratheon, etc)

---

ALICENT HIGHTOWER

Alicent would sure be a devoted and lovely wife. She puts her trust in you, does her duties, and is a very witful person.

Very religious to the faith would want a partner to at least respect her faith between the new gods.

Her favorite nicknames for you would be "Dove, Sweeting, Jewel and Darling"

Brings a very soothing maternal presence, it feels like you can tell her anything, and she would give you advice without judgment.

Presses gentle kisses onto your face if you were to leave to do training or something of the sort.

Very protective over you as well, even if she's not equipped with weaponry well. If she has to defend you, she definitely will.

Even if she's upset with your decisions, she would always be there and treat you no differently.

Her favorite sound is your laughter. Her love for you brightens every time she hears that laugh of yours.

She is not the best at expressing herself when it comes down to feelings, but she tries.

Her love languages would be acts of service and words for affirmations. She cares more about kind words and gestures than gifts.

---

AEGON II TARGARYEN

Oh boy.. Aegon is a quite difficult one to especially with all of the drinking and brothels he devotes his time too.

It definitely will not be an easy time being his lover. His issues strive from the pressure and weight of being the rightful 'king' (ermmm okay aegon) mainly steming from his mother (love u Ali tho) and grandsire.

He only really thinks you're there for a way to either gain power or his cock which (let's be fr nobody want all that) Sex is one thing, love and trust is whole other thing.

I feel like he would be pretty needy stemming from how his father neglects him.

He has his moods and his moments, I bet you could console him quite easily although.

A very tactical lover always has to be touching you in some way. He craves to be held while you're in bed together, but he will never admit that.

Alicent would have to give him advice on how to treat you properly cause Lord Save us all he would not be a good partner.

Will not be faithful to you.. sorry not sorry

HELAENA TARGARYEN

Helaena has her quirks nonetheless, but that doesn't stop her from being a genuine good soul. She's a sweetheart in all honestly.

Helaena is a very curious girl. If you haven't originated from King's landing, I'm sure she would love to hear about your heritages.

She just needs someone to listen to her, about her bugs and about her riddles.

I believe she would tell you all about insects, I also think she would embroiderate insect brooches for you to wear proudly onto your coats.

I also believe she would tell you what insect really reminds her of you. Explaining why, in all detail, why she sees you as such.

I believe she would go to you to reconcile her about her visions as you're the only real one to understand her dismay.

I would suggest giving kindness back and start to court the princess.

I also would like to believe she's a huge bookworm, especially about mythology or nature.

Her love languages would be gift giving and quality time. She appreciates your company even if you both have nothing to say.

Patience is very key here. She doesn't like physical touch, and when she wants it, let her initiate it first. She doesn't like sudden loud noises or touches it makes her overwhelmed.

I believe she might be a poet as well from all of her riddles. She might journal to explore her dragon dreams and her other thoughts, respectively.

Over time, I think she would be the one to initiate small touches such as hands brushing against each other, small hugs, gentle kisses upon the cheeks, forehead, and lips.

bestest girl to you and will always be willing to listen to your thoughts and feelings.

---

AEMOND TARGARYEN

Aemond will not be easy to love. After losing his eye, he had changed. He wasn't the sweet boy of his mother it was like he did a whole 180.

He will form a bond with you, and it will be VERYY slowburn.

He spends his time training, sparing, reading, and educating and doing all of the things Aegon doesn't do. (Which is a lot thx egg ig) I don't think he would be fond of you first it's like hes a thorn in your backside.

I feel like I would relate him to Daemon in the way that love doesn't come too easy for him.

He is quite wary of people, and at the beginning, you'll never see him without his eyepatch. It takes a lot of time for him to trust you with seeing his abnormality. He finds himself disgusting, I think only time will get him to find that his eye isn't ugly.

Also, a very jealous person, quick to anger to quick to act with emotions.

However, once you catch his eye. He'll come a bit possessive yet passionate towards you.

I feel like he would be very grateful if you were to meet Vhagar for the first time as Vhagar is almost like his second home.

He isn't used to kindness that doesn't come from his mother and sister.

A very observant lover loves to study your body language as he admires your features.

Paranoid that you'll find him ugly without his eyepatch on. He will mostly hide his scar the best he can, even if it's unbearable, or he will continue wearing it while he's aching.

RHAENYRA TARGARYEN

She would be the most loving partner, Even with all of her duties as Heir/Queen, she will always make time for you and her family.

I feel as if her love would be very maternal in a way(?) Honestly, like she would check up on you and make sure you're doing well. After a long way, she would lay with you, her hands gently massaging your scalp, and she reads a book.

I believe she would want someone who would not only protect her but her children as well. Not that she needs protecting. It's just a loyalty sort of thing.

Speaking of children, I feel like she would want for her lover to not only accept the boys in open arms but to be a parent figure of sorts.

Extremely loyal in the sense of defending your name.

I believe her love languages would be: physical touch, words of affirmations, and acts of services.

She's a very passionate and romantic lover. She tends to you when she can and makes sure to check in with you a lot.

I feel like she would talk about rumors and stuff going on in court with you, wanting to hear how you would approach the situation and your thoughts about it in general.

DAEMON TARGARYEN

Daemon is a very complicated man in general. Gaining his trust will be one thing. His love? Another.

He is known for preferring old valyria descendents, he has a common way of going to brothels and fucking whores. A marriage or love between him will not be an easy one.

The Rogue Prince is known to be unpredictable and harsh with his methods. I would use this to your advantage.

Your marriage/love will not be perfect as the blood of the dragon is strong. He might be yours, but he's a dragon first.

I feel like he would hold walls to withdraw from the emotions he deems as weak. Cracking these walls is a task end of itself. However, patience will be key. You might have to muster some dragonfire from yourself, I think he prefers to have someone who can manage his fire, but who can also light fire themselves.

He is a very difficult man with strange needs, I think it's best to meet with his roots. Learning High Valyrian, meeting 'The Blood Wyrm', conditioning old valyrian values. That's the best bet to really gain structure into this relationship.

He will not be tied down by marriage duty. He craves excitement and bloodshed. You will have to acknowledge that.

The best way to bond with him is to sit down into bed and let him read to you of his heritage. He's very proud of it, and nothing will stop that. I think another way to strengthen the relationship is to take flights with him and caraxes.

Once you worked past the walls, he had bulit. I think he would shower you in gifts when he returns from whatever blood 'The Dark Sister' craves. Since it's Daemon, I would probably think sex too ..

His love language will definitely be physical touch. He craves of you at his side, his favorite thing to map out the little 'imperfections' by roaming his hands across your body, spreading sweet kisses as he whispers sweet nothings in high valyrian into your ear.

His favorite nicknames for you would be "my love," "Perzītsos (little flame)," "jorrāeliarza (beloved)"

He's definitely not an easy man, but he will go to hell and back for you. He has odd ways of showing his gratitude and love. However, that will never stop him from unconditionally loving you.

I also assume he would be possessive and easy to anger. Don't get me started on his jealousy. This man does not like other lords or ladies even looking at his beloved.

JACAERYS VELARYON

---

This boy is a splitting image of his mother. He's a very loyal man towards his partner. He devotes his time to his duties as heir and as well to spend time with you.

He is quite the gentleman, and assuming you're betrothed to him, he will willingly court you generously.

He showers you with love and loyalty, making sure you're comfortable with him and will never pressure you into something you don't wish to endure.

He showers you with gifts and always listens to your thoughts and feelings.

He wants to spend as much time as he possibly can with being heir, wherever you go he follows.

His gaze always lingers onto you. This man stares at you like you're a part of the gods. He always admires you.

He LOVES to give compliments about your appearance and outfits all the TIME. He loves to praise his beloved, and he makes sure you know how much you mean to him.

Is always touching you in some way, even if it's as simple as your hand brushing against his.

[witchthewriter]

𝐉𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: reader has a lot of siblings, I know it’s not very relatable, but you can think of them as cousins??? I just thought it would be a fun idea to have Jaime meet a bunch of your siblings and be on the verge of a meltdown lol <3 

Warnings: FLUFF omg fluff - I wish this was my family dynamic

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:      

Ever After Main Title by George Fenton

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・It was the wedding of your sister, the fourth born of your siblings (seven all up) and you were over the moon when you received your official invitation

・When you got it, you ran to Jaime and thrust it into his hands, nearly jumping up and down from excitement

  “And it’s in two months?” Jaime said, his tone nowhere near as excited as your own.

“Yes!” You replied, your excitement dwindling. The look on Jaime’s face was less than pleasant.

You pulled the chair out and sat next to Jaime, your eyebrows furrowed. “What’s the matter?”

・The thoughts that flooded your head were a whirlwind of anxiety

・But the thoughts were soon quelled as Jaime - reluctantly - admitted that he was too nervous to meet your family. What would they think of him? The Kingslayer? The man who was sworn to the Kingsguard but left for love?

・“They’re going to love you,” you said, almost agast. 

・It was a tender moment, between the two of you, one hand moving to cup his cheek. “Do not, for one second, think that you are unworthy.” You kissed his forehead and with your other hand, you slowly took ahold of his. 

・The two month wait was agonising 

・You had written your response immediately and sent a messenger to deliver it personally 

・In return, your mother had written a reply. And when you received it, you were brought to tears and laughter

  𝑀𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦, 

     𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑢𝑝, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒. 𝑊𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑. 𝑂𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝐴𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝑀𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑔 𝑑𝑜𝑣𝑒, ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑. 𝑊ℎ𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠? 𝑀𝑢𝑠𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡.

   𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑠 𝐽𝑎𝑖𝑚𝑒? 𝑊𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑠𝑜 𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐸𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠, 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝐽𝑎𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑑. 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑜 - 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝐽𝑎𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟. 

  𝐼 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑙𝑦. 

    𝐻𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙.

           𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.

・When it was time to leave, you had packed the night before, ready to start the journey before dawn. 

・Jaime understood your excitement (to an extent - he was never excited to see his own family. The Lannisters were not known for the love of family... well I mean ... oh you know...)

・You knew it would take about two days to get home, Jaime had gotten a carriage where you could keep all your belongings (you had many gifts for your siblings. Especially for your soon to be married sister)

・The journey was long and tiresome, but the moment you saw your siblings rushing to greet you, all fatigue disappeared

・ “Y/n!” They all yelled, unlatching the door and nearly pulling you from the carriage. 

・Jaime was left gobsmacked, never had he seen such - positive - enthusiasm from a bunch of people (important distinction to make.)

・And he was sure they would leave him in the dust, for you to completely forget about him and he’d be awkwardly following behind

・But that wasn’t the case at all.

・With just as much excitement, your siblings swept him up as well; with their hurried questions, and flurry of different subjects

・The little ones were a bit hesitant. Red blushes tinged their baby cheeks, and their play wooden swords were hidden behind their backs

・Three of them; the triplets. Two boys and one girl, all fighting for attention at home. 

・You didn’t come from a big, nor well known House. But that was strategy on your families part. Your family could be classified as upper middle class, you didn’t grow up in a castle, but your home was very comfortable.

・Your home was always ... homely 

・And during your travels with Jaime, you realised just how lucky you had been growing up

・The sea was a mere five minute walk from your home, which stood tall with it’s walls of sandstone. Like a little bit of Dorne had been created on this small patch of land. It is said that it was created by your ancestors who came from a village on the outskirts of Dorne. 

・They had travelled and found this land more than sufficient. 

・So it meant that you and all the family that came before you, grew up mostly on fish, homemade bread, oysters when you found them. 

・There had been a vegetable patch that grew into acres of tomatos, beans, strawberries - just an array of fruit and vegetables 

・There was also flower gardens planted around the property; lavender, baby’s breath, roses etc. 

・You also always had 24 hens, 12 cows and 6 goats. It was a privilege. And your siblings named all of them... (and no, they were never killed. Once your father had done so, and you, along with your siblings refused to eat dinner for two days because of it)

・Your father knew from than on that he was not the one who ruled the household

・Your parents were waiting in the doorway, but your mother couldn’t stand there any longer. She picked up her skirts and ran over to you, sweeping you up in her arms and planting kisses on your cheeks

   “...mama!” You laughed, for once accepting the affection. That’s the type of woman your mother had always been. Motherly. A care-giver. The true definition of a mother. 

・And your father ... well... he was the perfect definition of a man and a father. ‘Papa,’ everyone called him - even those that were not his children. He made people feel safe; he was a leader, and lucky to be alive with all the situations he’s thrown himself into

・Jaime walked up and shook your father’s hand, who then clasped the Kingslayer’s one hand in both of his. 

    “It’s good to meet you, Lord Lannister,” your father’s face had a wide and genuine smile. 

・Jaime mirrored it, and shook his head, “please, call me Jaime.” 

      “Well Jaime, welcome to our home. Please make yourself comfortable.”

・And then your father descended upon you, giving you one of his well known ‘papa hugs’

・As you walked throughout the house, you spotted all the wedding decorations. Bright colours of red, gold, orange and yellow. 

・ You walked outside and saw your older sisters were putting the finishing touches on the outside reception area. Long wooden tables with long wooden seats took up the majority of the paved space. 

・The large willow tree was exactly as you’d left it, with ribbons tied into the branches. Little wishes - a tradition that your mother started. 

     “It’s beautiful,” Jaime breathed, his hand found yours and squeezed tightly.

“I know,” you whispered back. Trying your best not to cry. 

[divine-donna]

dragon’s smile

pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x gn! reader

word count: 2,028 words

ao3 link: ❤️❤️❤️

a short rhaenyra fic to accompany the alicent fic i just wrote! i have come through with my promise. so have fun!

The journey to Dragonstone was exhausting and long. You did not fare well on boats, nor fared well on anything that moved (aside from a horse). But you were grateful that you could emerge from your hiding spot on the boat and jump into the sea, bringing with you your mother’s sword. You carried little on your journey to Dragonstone. You did not plan on keeping any of your old items.

You knew there was a possibility that you would never return home.

Your family has long served House Hightower.

And you just betrayed them, their crowned heir Aegon II, and dishonored your family.

Otto Hightower had no idea that you had snuck onto the boat, had no idea that you were missing from the Red Keep. Long had you served Alicent and her family. Alicent was a gentle soul, yes, but you believed in the King’s wish for his daughter to be on the throne. Her son was...well, there are no gentle words to describe your true feelings about him. He was a revolting boy and he had turned into a revolting man.

After all, someone had to keep track of all the maidens he chased after despite being married.

Someone had to keep girls quiet.

You always hated the sound of silver and gold, how hefty the small leather pouches were in your hand. But to defy Alicent then would’ve meant becoming a social pariah and dishonoring your family. Your purpose was to serve her ever since you were an adolescent. You accompanied her to King’s Landing, became an unknowing spy to the Hand of the King.

But she changed your life forever.

When she gazed upon you, you felt your heart stop. Her silver Valyrian hair delicately braided, her rosy cheeks, her witty sense of humor. And that smile of hers. How you would have killed your family and the Hightowers just to see her smile.

Welcome (Y/N). Rhaenyra greeted you with a grin. I do hope we become close. Alicent speaks very fondly of you.

Since then, you have been silently dedicated to Rhaenyra Targaryen and her family, even to the extent of defending her children in private when talking to Alicent. The Queen could not believe that you, her life long companion and friend, would defend the Princess. But your loyalties were firm.

And so you swam to the sandy shores of Dragonstone, turning around to watch the boats with the green three-headed dragon leave the island.

You have never been to Dragonstone. So your first move should be to leave the beach and request an audience with Rhaenyra.

The sound of something heavy landing on the sand caught your attention and you turned around. You were met with red scales and the glint of a familiar sword. “Daemon.” 

“Seems like the Hand of the King has sent one measly soldier to the beaches of Dragonstone.” He scowls. “What is your purpose here, Hightower scum?” The dragon roars and snorts, as if preparing to set you ablaze.

“I come here with no other purpose than to serve.” You say, body tensing up.

“A convincing argument.” Daemon scoffs. “What is your true purpose here?”

Before you can answer, the roar of a dragon could be overheard you. You recognized that roar and when you looked up, you recognized the beautiful colors along the dragon’s scales. Syrax lands next to Caraxes before you. Her face is gentle when she lays eyes upon you. And riding her is Rhaenyra with a golden crown adorning her head. She looked regal and it looked right. Aegon wearing the crown of the Conquerer did not nor can you imagine him looking right upon the Iron Throne. Her eyes meet yours but no smile crosses her face. Instead, her frown deepens. “(Y/N).” She says.

“My Queen.”

“Did Otto Hightower send you?”

“No, my Queen. I have no loyalty to the Hightowers. Alicent does not know I have gone missing and came here.”

“Did you come from their boats?”

You hesitate to answer for a moment. “...Yes. I snuck onto a boat and then jumped off when we arrived, while you received Aegon II’s claims. I swam to shore and I come with nothing but my sword, ready to fight for you.”

“Fight for me?” Her frown loosens.

“Yes, my Queen. I recognize no one else as the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Rhaenyra’s facial expression is one of contemplation. When she sees you, she does not see a Hightower or a servant of the Hightowers. Rather, she sees a capable person with the skills of a knight, someone perceptive of military strategy, someone loyal and willing to do anything for their princess, now their Queen.

“They lie.” Daemon looks at his wife. “Burn them here Rhaenyra. And we’ll send their bones back to King’s Landing to show them what happens to traitors.”

You stood firm, boots sinking into the sand. You stood tall, a clear act of refusal to leave. If you die here, then so be it.

“(Y/N) would never. They take their oaths seriously.” Rhaenyra dismounts from Syrax. She approaches you. “Do you mean it? When you say you will fight for me?”

“I mean it with all my heart, Your Grace.” Your voice is sincere. It cracks a little.

Tears brim the woman’s eyes but she takes a deep breath and closes them. When she opens them again, they are gone. Turning to Daemon, she speaks her final verdict. “(Y/N) will join us. We need as many allies as possible.”

Daemon looks like he’s about to say something but he bows his head. “Of course, my Queen.” He looks at you. “But first, (Y/N) must swear an oath of loyalty to you. And abandon their sword.”

“My sword?”

“Your sword is a sword of old oaths. It is the sword of your mother, yes?” You nod. “Then abandon it. It is a sword that is meant for the oath of the Hightowers. You have no business carrying around a sword meant for their flames and banners.”

You don’t hesitate to move your hands, undoing the string keeping your sword at your waist. Once undone, you toss the sword at the feet of Caraxes. You kneel before Rhaenyra, head bowed. “I, (Y/N) of Oldtown, hereby swear to fight for Queen Rhaenyra, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. My blade rises for no other. I swear to aid my Queen in her quest to retrieve the Iron Throne from the usurper Aegon II, and live out my days as her subject.”

Rhaenyra lets out a deep breath and she smiles. “Rise, (Y/N) of Oldtown. Rise as my sworn subject and as a general of my army.”

You look up at her, her smile gentle. Your heartbeat quickens and you feel yourself become light as you stand before her.

“Come with me, (Y/N). We must get you dry clothes and a hot bath.”

It has been a few days since you came to Dragonstone. By now, your family would be wondering what had happened to you. After all, you send Ravens to them frequently to update them on your life in King’s Landing. And the Hightowers would have to presume you ran away. Alicent especially would know of the reason why.

“How do you find Dragonstone?”

You turn around, eyes meeting hers. “It is a peaceful place. Certainly one for dragons.”

“I wish it could be more peaceful.”

Rhaenyra’s face is exhausted. She looked tired and overwhelmed with much reason. There was no way to plan a funeral for her son and she has plunged Westeros into war.

“It will be, my Queen. We will make it so.” You walk towards her and gently take her hands. “I will make it so.”

“You have always stuck besides me, (Y/N). Even though you were meant to serve the Hightowers.”

“The Hightowers serve the Targaryens. Thus, I have always served you.” Your grip on her hands tighten. “Alicent Hightower and her brat of a child have long been forgotten in my mind. I broke my vow long ago.”

“A brat?” She lets out a small laugh, a small smile crossing her face.

“Cannot convince me otherwise. I spent most of my days cleaning up after him.”

“Is that what you have been doing all these years?”

You let go of her hands and look away, shame appearing on your face. “I am not proud of what I’ve done. I’ve gone against my code and my beliefs, covered up after the prince. Alicent would not be able to do most of it so she left it up to me. Money, silks, food even.” You shake your head. “It is all too vile to discuss.”

Rhaenyra observes your look of shame, the way your eyes are dark with conflict and how the tired look on your face explains all. She gently takes one of your hands and holds it between both of hers. “You did what had to be done, and what was expected of you.”

“Yes. My father would have disinherited me if I did not do the Queen Dowager’s biding. Alas, now he will disinherit me.” You look at her.

“But you are here now. And as a general to my army, I must ask something of you.”

“Of course, my Queen. I am at your command.”

“Daemon says we should aspire to take Harrenhal and make it our base of operations on the mainland.” Her grip on your hand tightens and there is a ferocity in her eyes. “As you know, Harrenhal is occupied by House Strong and its Lord is the only remaining Strong, Larys.”

“He has a weird penchant for feet.”

She has a confused look on her face before proceeding. “House Strong is not aligned with our cause. They back Aegon’s claim to the Iron Throne. We must take it by force. And I want you to be amongst the people to plan on taking Harrenhal.”

“So it shall be done, my Queen.”

“You will, thus, be thrusted into battle. I have something to give you for that.”

“Do tell.”

“That will ruin the surprise.”

Rhaenyra lets go of your hand and begins walking. You follow her, still not used to the corridors and the layout of Dragonstone. You would probably get lost without her guidance. She opens the door, and lets you inside first. Your gaze falls upon the shiny metal. It was brand new, without use. And you ran your hands over its smooth surface. You could see your own reflection. And at the center of the breastplate was the sigil of House Targaryen.

“My Queen.” You turn around to face her. She holds a longsword in its sheath.

“If you are to lead my forces, you will need armor and a new sword to do so. Consider it representative of your new oath.” Rhaenyra smiles as she places the sword in your hands.

You remove it from its sheath, gazing upon the ripples of the metal. “Valyrian steel?” You look at her with surprise. “I am unworthy of such a generous gift.”

“I want my general to have the best. Daemon had the armor made and I had an old sword broken down and forged anew.” She walks towards you and presses a gentle kiss on your cheek. You are too surprised to speak.

“Thank you for everything, (Y/N).” Rhaenyra pulls away. “Perhaps one day, we can ride on dragonback across the Narrow Sea and eat only cake.”

“I-I thought that was a dream for you and Alicent.”

“You were the only one to say yes to me when I brought it up that day.” A smirk forms on her face. “Now tell me, what name will you give your sword? Every great sword has a name.”

You gaze upon your blade, the handle wrapped in a thick, black dyed leather. The metal work is truly fine. And when you look at this blade, all you can think about is the smile of your Queen.

A smile you were willing to go to war for.

“I think I’ll call it...Dragon’s Smile.”

[ghostly-wisp]

ONE DANCE

—

💌: Harwin Strong x fem!reader

🎞: House of The Dragon

👥: Harwin Strong, Reader, Viserys, and Rhaenyra Targaryen.

✒️: ghostly-wisp on Tumblr

word count: 991

warnings: violence

summary: Ser Harwin Strong didn't like dancing all that much, though one Targaryen sister always made him happy no matter what they were doing.

Ser Harwin Strong did not enjoy dancing.

While it looked fun, when he was actually on the dance floor, he never failed to make a fool of himself, he'd take the wrong step or be lost on how exactly the dance was supposed to continue, so he was three steps behind. And so, at the wedding between Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen, he opted to sit to the side while the other Lords and Ladies danced.

It looked fun, everyone in unison while they stepped in circles – smiling at their partners, he kept having the thought to just go dance the rest of his night away, though he just knew he'd mess someone up, and he didn't want to do that.

The only people in the room who didn't seem to be enjoying the wedding were Rhaenyras's family at the front of the room–her father, Viserys, stuffing food in his face while glaring into the crowd angrily, his wife, Queen Alicent looked blankly. Though, she had a blank expression on her face often. Most of the attention was on the fact that she was wearing green–the color of house Hightower, rather than Targaryen red.

In some sense, Alicent reminded him of his mother, unhappy in her marriage and living every day the same. He had hoped that she'd come to the wedding, he wrote to her about it and never got any word back. His mother was not as condescending as Alicent has proven herself to be in the past few days, however.

Harwin's thoughts of Harrenhal were interrupted by someone tapping on his shoulder—perhaps he was looking over to the Royal family for too long and someone noticed. When he turned his head, he found no other than Y/N Targaryen – Rhaenyras younger sister. Also, the princess he was sworn to protect.

"Your grace," Harwin says loud enough for her to hear. "Is something the matter?"

"Yes, Ser Harwin!" She exclaims a smile wide on her face, "You are not dancing, instead you're up here looming over everybody else. Come dance!"

He raises his arms in protest, mindful of who he is talking to, he still has a polite smile. Had it not been you, he might've rejected in a way some may call cold and rude. "Your grace, I couldn't! I cannot dance, I have no rhythm."

"Nonsense! I will teach you." Y/N grabs the knight's wrist, attempting to drag him to the dance floor. Harwin was much stronger than the princess, so he had all the means to protest by not moving—he wonders sometimes why he didn't just pause, though he likes seeing the princess happy. If him dancing at her sister's wedding made her happy, so be it.

Once they got to a somewhat open space on the pact floor, Y/N stands across from him—while this may be Rhaenyra's wedding, Harwin couldn't help but note just how beautiful Y/N was, the way her hair was styled and the dress she has on. If you ask Harwin, she could outshine the bride, even if it wasn't intentional. "It's easy! Mirror what I do!" She grabs his hand, "It's okay if you make a mistake," Somehow, her assurance relieved him. Despite that he had this worry brewing in him for hours, her words eased it even just a little bit.

For a while, he thinks that he's getting the hang of it, he's even enjoying the dance. He smiles so wide that his cheeks hurt. He'd got confident enough that he didn't have to watch your every step, but watch you instead. He never really studied your face as much as he could now. You were even more beautiful than he had thought.

He's just about to go into the next part of the dance when he notices how everyone in the room paused. With whispers and screams of horrors, it takes him a while to understand what's going on, it's hard to see around a crowd—it takes until he hears a Lady scream "He's going to kill him!" before he felt his instinct come in. The fight that had broken out was between Ser Criston Cole and Ser Joffrey Lonmouth. He didn't have much time, now he had a duty to the princess – a duty to you.

Y/N could not take her eyes away as much as she wanted to—she was no stranger to blood and gore, but this was too much. Her mouth was agape and her hand covering her mouth, Ser Criston always seemed sweet to her and her sister – more to Rhaenyra, but she just simply wasn't as close to him as Rhaenyra was.

Laenor was screaming, her new brother-in-law begging for his best friend's life was ringing in her ears, her view became obstructed when someone lifted her from the ground, it didn't take much thought for her to realize who. "Harwin put me down!" She exclaims, following up with, "I am a princess and that is your order!" Though Harwin did not listen. Instead, he continued to carry you out of the hall. "Ser Harwin, please!"

He grumbles a little, "Your grace. It's my job to protect you." He replies, setting her down. "I would rather answer to you than your father if you were to be hurt."

"What of Rhaenyra? She is your heir. She is more important than me, and she is still in the hall!"

"Would you like me to return for her?" He asks, raising his voice as more people from the wedding fled the hall, pushing Harwin to the side a bit — you instinctively grabbed his arm as if you could keep him from falling over. (If it came to it, the both of you would be falling over.)

You felt selfish when you shook your head, but mostly you didn't want to be left alone while crowds of Lords and Ladies ran by. "This, your grace. Is why I'm not fond of dances."

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon]

All I Am (For You) - Reader x Yandere Sub!Aemond Targaryen (nsfw)

It's exhilarating, isn't it? Here you are of lower status, having a literal prince of the realm at your beck and call, making him obey, acquiesce, and submit in ways others can't. It's exhilarating, is it? Exhilarating. Delightful. Sublime. All words to describe your... liaison. All words to describe him. The Second Son. Aemond Targaryen.

And what a picture he was, beautiful and dark and deadly all in one. Sublime. The shadows from the fire in your room danced around the eagerness in his eye, one that was not too long ago alight with vengeance and bloodlust as he mercilessly brutalized the poor soul―the bastard had it coming, insulting you and your lesser status within earshot. A person of little consequence, such that he wouldn't even give them the honor of a quick death with his sword. Aemond rationalized his actions and from his perspective, your honor was preserved once more.

He'd have lashed out violently at Queen Alicent and his grandfather for voicing their disapproval if not for the subtle twitch of your mouth and the irritation in your posture. Unbecoming. You rewarded him handsomely later, singing his praises as he feasted greedily on the delicacy between your legs.

And Aemond stood before you once again, justice served. He was eager and wanting and restless and yearning for your praise. Yearning for―oh!!!

You said only a word before you found yourself on your bed, your clothes and his divested. You said only a word before you looked up and saw the platinum fire of his mane buried between your legs and devouring you greedily and bringing you to ecstasy and―and―"Aemond...!"

They would never know your secret, they who seek to rein Aemond's fire in. And you, you of lesser status, laughed wryly at their attempts. They didn't have what you had. They couldn't tame his fire, couldn't tame a dragon as only you could. They would never know how you could pin down such passion beneath you so willingly, how you could make a prince of the realm moan like... like a baseless whore.

It was all tension, need, and adrenaline turned into something raw and primal. It was all a blur after the intensity of your first orgasm, as you found yourself leering at Aemond, your Aemond, his skin flushed, hair a white fiery halo framing his face, and scar laid bare before you. Under you. Singing your praises as you took him without abandon. As you fucked him savagely. Unbecoming. Exhilarating. Delightful. Sublime.

And what a picture he was, voicing his pleasure so loudly, so wantonly. Unlike that of a prince. More like a whore. Your whore. You were brutal in your thrusts and Aemond met you each time, met you as you took him higher and higher, met you as powerful legs tightened around your waist, as his hands gripped the sheets below and he all but roared your name as he came untouched. And once again, you tamed a dragon.

And let all who have ears to hear, hear this. Let all who have ears hear the reverence in Aemond's voice as he says your name, let them hear the whine and delicious groan as you bite into one broad shoulder, as you praise him for a job well done. Let them hear him beg and moan like a wanton whore as the cycle begins anew and you tame the dragon yet again, the second of many times that night.

Let them hear, let them see how Aemond Targaryen, a prince of the realm, the Second Son, fire and bloodlust made flesh was made yours. All of him, yours. Mind, body, and spirit.

Exhilarating. Delightful. Sublime.

[thebookbutterfly]

°•. BB’s Bookshelf .•°

An organised collection of fan fiction that I love and would recommend. A lot of hurt/comfort because it’s my favourite. I update this list regularly so keep an eye out for new stories. Feel free to browse and enjoy!

See what’s new here.

Take a look at my MASTERLIST here. :)

My requests are OPEN! So please contact me with your asks and ideas. I love hearing from you!

STRANGER THINGS:

🦋 Steve Harrington

🦋 Eddie Munson

🦋 Robin Buckley

🦋 Steddie

🦋 Billy Hargrove

CALL OF DUTY:

🦋 Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

🦋 König

🦋 Task Force 141

GAME OF THRONES:

🦋 Sandor Clegane

🦋 Tyrion Lannister

🦋 Brienne of Tarth

THE LAST OF US:

🦋 Joel Miller

THE MANDALORIAN:

🦋 Din Djarin

NARCOS:

🦋 Javier Peña

SUPERNATURAL:

🦋 Sam Winchester

🦋 Dean Winchester

🦋 Castiel

JOHN WICK:

🦋 John Wick

RED DEAD REDEMPTION:

🦋 Arthur Morgan

🦋 John Marston

BALDUR'S GATE 3:

🦋 Astarion Ancunín

🦋 Halsin Silverbough

🦋 Gale Dekarios

🦋 Wyll Ravengard

🦋 Karlach Cliffgate

THE WALKING DEAD:

🦋 Daryl Dixon

[chyckles]

Requests & Characters I write for

Requests are OPEN

Drop your request in my ask box, and I'll try to write it as soon as possible. Keep in mind that this is a hobby, I have a life outside Tumblr, respect my time and don't pressure me.

Please remember English is not my first language, and I'm still learning, so if you see an error (there will be plenty of them) don't be mean to me. If you don't like it, just ignore my posts, thank you.

Your request need to contain:

The character/s you want me to write about (I will leave the list at the end of the post). I don't write ships, only “x reader”. If what you want is a preference, then only specify the fandom.

Select one of this: one-shot (2k+ words), preference or drabble (500-1k words).

Give me a brief description of what you want. You can even send me a scene or dialogue that you already have in mind.

Let me know if you want a bad or good ending. If you don't say anything, I'll do whatever feels right for me.

I will not describe any physical feature (skin color, weight…) unless it's relevant for the plot, so if the reader needs a specific feature please include it in your request.

I DON'T WRITE SMUT BY REQUEST, only whenever I feel like it. Sorry.

I can write love triangles, but not polyamory because I don't know almost anything about it and don't want to mess it up. Maybe in the future. The only exceptions are Steven Grant and Marc Spector, they're the only ones that I can make the reader date at the same time.

I DON'T WRITE INCEST, PEDOPHILIA OR ANY SICK THING LIKE THAT. If the character is underage, the reader will also be underage, and they will behave like underage people. I can write age gaps if the characters are both adults.

I don't necessary write only romantic relationships. If you want any kind of platonic relationship, that's okay, just specify it on the request.

Characters I write for:

I will add new characters of other fandoms in the future. These are just temporary. My favorites are in bold.

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Carol Danvers

Kate Bishop

Loki

Marc Spector

Natasha Romanoff

Peter Parker (Tobey, Andrew and Tom)

Sam Wilson

Steve Rogers

Steven Grant

Thor

Stephen Strange

Wanda Maximoff

Yelena Belova

Harry Potter

Bill Weasley

Charlie Weasley

Cho Chang

Draco Malfoy

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Ginny Weasley

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

James Potter

Luna Lovegood

Neville Longbottom

Nymphadora Tonks

Remus Lupin

Ron Weasley

Sirius Black

Game of Thrones

Arya Stark

Daenerys Targaryen

Cersei Lannister

Jaime Lannister

Jon Snow

Robb Stark

Sandor Clegane

Sansa Stark

Tyrion Lannister

Supernatural

Castiel

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

The walking dead

Carl Grimes

Carol Peletier

Daryl Dixon

Glenn Rhee

Maggie Greene

Negan Smith

Rick Grimes

Hazbin Hotel

Adam

Alastor

Angel

Carmilla

Charlie

Cherri

Husk

Lucifer

Lute

Rosie

Sir Pentious

Vaggie

Velvette

Vox

[obsessivevoidkitten]

That Time You Got Yeeted Into Another World, Mistaken as a God-Sent Gift, and Used as a Prize in an Arena

Yandere Bear-Man Dilf x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, framed for a crime, language barrier, eaten out like it's groceries, biting, scent marking, musk, combat, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 765

(Speed written out of nowhere because I had the idea suddenly, not beta read so please forgive any mistakes. I hope you guys like this ficlet. Also forgive the title, in a game I was playing there was a crossover with "That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime" and I liked the vibe of the title.)

You were framed for a crime you didn't commit and in your village the punishment for that crime was immediate exile via being shoved down a steep crater in the center of which is a one-way portal to what is thought to be Hell.

What no one on your side of the portal knew was that on the other side was just another world. A world that celebrated with a great holiday anytime a human came through the portal. It was also a world populated entirely, with the exception of humans who crossed over, by human-like beast hybrids.

Driders, lion hybrids, nagas, aqrabuamelu (scorpion-men), harpies, dog people, centaurs, minotaurs, gnolls, and many other races that seemed to be part human. 

They have a connecting portal in their universe, but any who try to go into it are spat back out. The current went only in one direction.

Every few years, a human would be flung forth from the portal, a gift from the gods! But only the worthy can keep such a gift. So whenever a human comes to the realm from the watcher of the portal will ring the bells and all the warriors assemble and a grand tournament is held at the arena. Whoever wins gets to keep the human and gains enough wealth to care for them properly.

Things are no different when you arrive, you are immediately ushered away, examined, and pampered like a prize doll with no agency. Despite your objections. It seems like only the keeper of the portal has any rudimentary undestanding of your language, not that it helped you. He didn't explain much and his speech wasn't that great. Something about... a big game?

You were naturally frightened beyond all reason, seeing all these beast-men, but it didn't seem like you were being harmed. It really wasn't what you thought hell was going to be like. 

On the day of the big tournament, you were dressed in the finest silks, given a tiny crown of silver, and taken to the best seat in the arena. One where everyone could see you. A cushioned throne was provided for you to sit upon. You figured that this must be a ceremony to welcome people from the portal.

You watched as all the combatants sparred. At first you were horrified, but it became evident that people could yield and death was, almost always, avoided. There were combatants of every variety. 

Even from the start the best seemed to be a naga woman named Eeris and a bear-man named Brakwen. As they advanced through the fights they both finally made it to the finals where they'd clash. Eeris favored twin daggers and fangs while Brakwen used claws and brute strength. He had a sword but had not resorted to using it. 

It was a mighty battle but Brakwen the bear-man managed to win. You still did not yet realize you were the prize. Not until you were escorted down to him and were carried bridal style out of the arena with the crowd cheering. Brakwen had won the god's favor!

From close up he looked even more imposing. He seemed to be in his late 30s to early 40s. He mostly looked like a hairy man from far away though up close his massive size, sharp teeth, claws, thick fur covering his arms and quite frankly adorable bear ears, gave him away. He was rugged but admittedly rather handsome. You knew there was nothing you could do so you let him carry you away. 

Despite the language barrier, Brakwen did his best to please his god-given prize. He could tell you feared him. Especially since you tried to run off a few times. But Brakwen didn't get angry. You never even managed to get past the door. Even if you did there were two gates outside the house. You were far too valuable to let wander off. 

Eventually when you had stopped running off, and when his rut demanded he wait no longer, he began acting a bot more aggressove and sexual towards you. 

Though you tried to stop him it ended with him stretching out your hole with his powerful tongue, lubing you up with his copious amounts of drool, and sliding into you with his massive musky cock.

That's what your life was now. Being treated like a fragile precious gem most of the time and then for one week out of every month you were fucked full of hot bear cum in every possible position, bitten possessively, and scent marked by being forced to wear his oversized clothing. 

[minaturefics]

Watching, Wanting

A/N: Hello! (its been awhile) I just wanted to indulge in my love for Boromir (ft some faramir bc i love my brothers). Very vague plot if you squint. It's a bit spicy, but nothing explicit!

Reader gets sent out in a storm by Faramir and turns up at Minas Tirith soaked.

Boromir x Reader

Gender-neutral reader

Rated: TEEN

2.3k words

---

The low hills of Emyn Arnen at your feet gave way to soft fields and in the distance the Anduin meandered through the landscape. There were dark clouds on the horizon, grey and heavy, and the faint earthy scent of coming rain was in the air. If you rode fast, you could make it to the city in a few hours, but judging by the clouds, you would be riding right into the storm anyway. You sighed and turned to Faramir. “Are you certain this is of such vital importance that I have to risk getting soaked to the bone?”

He nodded. “My brother requires these maps. I would have sent it with the trade carts this morning but it slipped my mind.”

“Rather uncharacteristic of you,” you muttered, raising your eyebrows at him.

He shrugged, an easy smile on his face. “My mind has been occupied of late. It is no easy feat, establishing a settlement.”

You softened at his words. Eowyn and Faramir had been working from dawn to dusk the past few weeks and the spring rains had been slowing construction and delaying the new workers and settlers journeying to Emyn Arnen. 

“Very well.” You tucked the long, flat wooden box into your pack and buckled the waxed canvas securely. “I’ll be off now.”

“Safe travels, my friend,” he grinned and waved.

You swung onto your horse and, with a flick of the reins, started off down the road. As the grass and trees sped by, your thoughts drifted to Boromir. 

You had become friends with Faramir first and, in the months Boromir had been away from Minas Tirith, you had helped coordinate the Ithilien Rangers from the city. Boromir had been civil to you when he returned, respectful of your battle and logistical strategies, but distant outside of the war rooms and planning councils. But something shifted one evening. 

It was one of the many victory dinners, a smaller, more intimate one for The Fellowship and close companions. The hobbits had pulled you into their game of roughhousing and somehow you had ended up sprawled on top of Boromir. He had been large and solid underneath you, his hands heavy on your waist. You looked up into his grey eyes and your breath caught in your throat. 

After that, it seemed as though his eyes were always on you. Across dinner tables, across courtyards, even, once, from across the throne room in full view of everyone.

You thought that with the end of the war, there would be no need for much contact between you and him, that all you would ever do is look, but Faramir had unofficially appointed you as a representative between the city and Emyn Arnen.

There had been so many afternoons spent with Boromir, shoulder to shoulder, pouring over maps and trade routes, so many nights spent eating across from each other in the low light of his private dining room. Yes, he was brave and proud and a fantastic tactician, but all that seemed to vanish when you saw him. 

Really saw him. 

Him with sleeves rolled up, exposing his strong forearms. His hair tied up, the pale column of his throat on full display. And those training breeches, somehow loose and tight at the same time… 

What would he look like sprawled on your bed? Eyes glazed and chest heaving, hair mussed and lips parted. His breath hot in your ear, his voice low and raspy.

Thunder clapped overhead and rain started to fall on your overheated skin. The drops were cool and refreshing and you tipped your face to the sky. 

How were you to spend another evening, another moment, in his presence? It was maddening, the way his eyes would blaze, the way he would draw close to you but never touch.

Why would he not act? It is true that you did not hold as high a standing as his family, but the brothers never seemed to care about such a thing. Even though that may be true, surely he understood that it was not as if you could do anything — it would be far more impertinent that you, of a lower standing, should be the first to move.

You shook your head and tightened your grip on the reins. You would ride back tonight to Emyn Arnen, even if you had to make the journey in the dark. It would be too much to spend another night near Boromir only separated by a few doors.

-

Boromir rushed down with the panicked servant who had burst into his study. What was his brother thinking? Sending you to Minas Tirith in the storm? He rounded the corner and found you shivering and dripping onto the polished marble. Someone had already taken your cloak and pack and you stood in your soaked clothes and saturated boots, clutching a wooden box. He swallowed at the sight of the fabric clinging to your form and strode towards you. 

“Riding in such a storm is madness. What was so urgent it could not wait until morning?” You shoved the box into his hands and he stared at it for a moment before shaking his head. “Come, let us get you warm and dry first.”

He led you to his rooms and sat you down before the fire. “You cannot stay in those clothes,” he said, handing you some towels and a blanket along with some of his spare clothes. “You will catch your death.”

“But, Boromir, it is not proper —”

“I do not care. I would rather some impropriety if the alternative is illness or death.” He turned around and faced the wall. “I will not look until you are sufficiently… dressed.”

For a moment, he thought you were about to protest some more until he heard the slick swish of your clothes. He could imagine you, peeling off your layers, bare skin tinged orange by the fire. Heat crept up his neck to his ears. By the gods, he needed to control himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and drew a ragged breath in. 

What sort of delightful torture was this? How many days had he spent beside you, close enough to breathe in your scent? How many nights had he spent staring at his bedroom door, willing you to walk through it?

He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sound of your wet clothes hitting the floor. He had to be proper. A gentleman. A man of honour. He had to be mindful of his position and standing. Yes, his brother had appointed you various titles and responsibilities, but whatever they were, they were still ranked below his own title of Captain of Gondor.

He had heard too many stories of people being swayed and persuaded by the nobility — he would not allow you to feel obligated to reciprocate his own selfish desires simply because he was ranked higher than you were. 

There was the rustle of cloth, the whisper of cotton on skin, and he fought the images of you donning his clothes. Oh, how will he ever wear that tunic ever again and not think of you?

You were wonderful and smart and were filled with endless ideas for new laws and trade. But in his quiet moments, he wondered what you would feel like under his touch, wondered what sort of sounds you would make.

How would you say his name? In a whisper? A gasp?

In a cry of pleasure?

He spied the wooden box you had brought with you on the side table and shook his head. Damn Faramir for putting him in such a position! What could possibly be so important?

“I, um — I’m just going to look at what my brother sent. Do not be alarmed by my movement,” he said and heard you hum in assent.

With slow, measured steps, he made his way to the box and opened it.

“Faramir said you needed maps,” you muttered behind him.

There were maps indeed, but they were just the regular sort that anyone could buy at the market cartographer. He frowned, rifling through the parchment, and pulled out the envelope tucked in between the papers.

Brother, 

Forgive my deception, but I hope my interference will be forgiven. Aragorn has written to me saying he is on the verge of tearing his hair out at the sight of you two. Eowyn and I are not faring much better here in Emyn Arnen with the constant pacing and faraway looks my, our, friend has whenever they return from the city. 

I pray you spare all of us any more heated longing stares. 

Best of  luck,

Faramir

The nerve of his brother! To send you out in the storm simply for the purposes of… of… matchmaking! The paper crinkled in his grip and his eyes wandered down to the scrawl at the bottom.

P.S. I am not so foolish as to send them out in anything threatening. Spring storms may be chilly, but hardly dangerous. 

That mollified him little and he grumbled. 

“Is anything the matter?” you asked. “Were they damaged in the rain?”

“No, not at all. It is nothing. Simply my brother being… my brother.” 

He read the letter again. Pacing… faraway looks… heated stares… Was his brother implying…? No, that could not be, could it? But, then again, perhaps he did not imagine the way you would linger in the sitting room after dinner or how he would feel your eyes on him sometimes. Your expression was always unreadable, careful and controlled, that he could hardly be sure of what you felt for him. If you felt anything at all. 

And yet, Faramir’s letter…

Your bare feet shuffled on the stone. “You may turn around if you wish.”

He folded the letter away and replaced it along with the maps into the box. He turned and his stomach clenched at the sight of you.

You were bathed in the warm light of the fire, your skin aglow, incandescent in the dim light. His tunic was loose on you and the front ties of the collar were undone, revealing the skin of your chest. His eyes wandered down to the pile of wet clothes on the floor and he spotted, what were unmistakably, underthings, heaped on top. 

Heat flared low in his belly and he glanced away. 

You. Naked under his clothes. Valar help him. 

-

Boromir had that look in his eyes again, all aflame and intense, except he was directing it at one of the tapestries on the wall. You glanced down at the wet clothes at your feet. Well, he could not have reasonably expected you to keep your underthings on, could he?

He was still staring at the wall. His jaw was tense and his hands were clenched by his sides. You took a step forward and he stood straighter. His eyes cut to yours for a moment, smoldering with want, before they went back to the wall. He took a shuddering breath and you took another step. 

Perhaps if you couldn’t act, you could make him act first instead.

You fought a smile and walked to stand before him. You could smell him fully then, his familiar musk mingling with cedar from the scent he favoured.

“Boromir,” you whispered.

His eyes snapped to you and he swallowed.

“Boromir.” 

You tipped your head to the side and parted your lips.

“Boromir.”

He crashed his lips against yours, his hands coming up to cradle your face. He deepened the kiss, his chest rumbling in a low moan when your fingers curled into his shirt. He tasted like the bitter tea he favoured after dinner. His hand drifted down, skimming your waist before coming to rest on your hip. Your nails scraped at the nape of his neck and he groaned.

His body was warm, hot even. He pressed himself closer to you and you could feel him, hard, against you. Heat pooled in your stomach and you moaned his name. His hand slipped under the hem of your shirt and he pulled back for a moment. “Is this alright?”

You nodded and tipped your head back. “Don’t stop.”

“I’ve… wanted this… for weeks,” he said, kisses drifting towards your jaw. The delightful scratch of his beard was followed by soft, warm lips as he worked his way down your neck. “Wanted you.”

“You should have done something.”

He smiled against your skin. “I’m doing something now.”

His lips paused at the curve of your neck and shoulder, sucking for a moment, as his hand slid up your side, his touch gentle but demanding. Your fingers fumbled with the ties on his tunic and tugged on the fabric. He pulled it off and tossed it to the side and he stood flushed and grinning before you. You trailed your fingers down his solid chest, past his stomach, following the light dusting of hair down.

“Maddening man, you —”

There was a knock on the door and you yelped, startling away from him. 

“Who is it?” he asked, voice low and rough. He cleared his throat. “What is the matter?”

“Should we prepare a hot bath for your friend in the spare room?” The servant’s voice was muffled through the door.

His eyes darted to yours before a smirk spread across his face. “There is no need for that, thank you.”

There was the sound of retreating footsteps and you exhaled. Boromir let out a relieved chuckle and pulled you towards him. 

“Sending my warm bath away?” You threw a challenging look at him. “How ever will I get warm?”

“I can think of a great many ways.”

“Will I like any of them?”

“I think you will find that you’ll like all of them.”

He dipped his head, capturing your lips, and tugged you in the direction of his bedroom.

---

I never realised just how quick things can head into a mature rating until I wrote this lmao. Not sure if I will ever write smut but well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (maybe)

Tags: @sotwk @ass-deep-in-demons @thetempleofthemasaigoddess @hippodameia

[dorkydilf-l0ver]

Hiya, sorry for being extremely inactive on this account but an Oberyn Martell from Game of Thrones fic is currently in the works!

[pinkykats-place]

Sandor Clegane x Reader Insert Fics

Tumblr Recommendations

Disclaimers!

Stories and Gif are NOT mine.

Some contain mature content.

Readers are mostly female.

Note: if you read and enjoy any of these stories - please like, leave a comment and/or reblog original post!

In the North

Summary: they had a relationship before they had to part ways and so they get reunited when reader is sent with Jorah by Daenarys to get a white walker, Beric and Thoros is in disbelief that Sandor can be able of loving someone

Love?

Sandor Clegane x Stark!Reader

Opposites Attract

Sandor Clegane x fem!reader

Dogs are Best

Sandor x female!Reader

The Kennel Master’s Daughter

Sandor x female!Reader

Sandor Clegane x fem!nurse!reader

Warnings: none it's fluffy

Summary: Back at the time when Joffrey was king, the king's guard got into a fight with the people of flea bottom ending up with many of them injured including Sandor Clegane himself. What will happen when out of all the nurses only Y/N is brave enough to help him?

A Hound Will Die For You But Never Lie To You 

Trigger warnings: NSFW, swearing, all the usual Game Of Thrones warnings.

Rating: M (It jumps right in there so if that’s triggering for you I’d suggest skipping it)

Summary: Imagine being the one to gentle the rage inside Sandor Clegane.

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x Reader (gender neutral).

Everything

Summary: A little drabble about Sandor’s feelings for the reader.

Scarred

Summary: Request from anon: I have a request! Sandor/Reader where the reader is being really lovey with Sandor and kissing him everywhere and she kisses his scarred side and he pushes her away but eventually gives in because she’s persistent that she will kiss him there and that he doesn’t have to worry because she loves his face.

An unexpected scene

NSFW Fic

Angered Beasts

Request: Hi can I request a drabble where the reader is one of joffreys playthings, like sansa is, and she runs into the hound after a beating? Something a little fluffy, please x

Warning: Mentions of violence and slight blood, female reader

Bathing in a tub with Sandor - drabble

Last Night

Fem!Stark!Reader

Request: Are requests still open? If so, please could I request a Hound x Stark reader where they confess their feelings for each other before they fight the Night King?

Good Dog

Warnings: Spoiler!,Fluff, swearing

Summary: Reader is found in the snow 

Hounds and Gingers

Summary: a short, fluffy imagine

An Urgent Confession

(female reader)

Summary: A little story about the reader reminiscing of a moment between her and Sandor 

A Hound’s Jealousy

Just a short little jealous!Hound request

Warnings: jealous Sandor, handsy guy

A Good Punishment

Summary: a handmaid is given to the King’s dog

Another Drink

Summary: rough smut with Sandor after he’s sees you with Bronn

Meeting at Winterfell

Summary: Imagine being a Stark and meeting Sandor Clegane at Winterfell

Imagine Sandor realizing that Tormund has a crush on you

Jealous Sandor…

Sharing a Bed with the Hound

Awkward Fluff!

To Break the Spell

Summary: Beauty & the Beast au

Imagine it’s you who Sandor takes away from Kings Landing during the Battle of Blackwater Bay

Series: More Than Our Servitude

Sandor Clegane x Fem!Reader

Summary: You lived your life as one of the washerwomen of the Red Keep, only seeing the Hound in passing. Still, when the madness of the Battle of Blackwater erupted, he came for you. The Hound is weary from battle, but you try and soothe what little you can.

Our Family

Sandor x wife!Reader

Summary: Sandor enjoys spending the day with his wife and son

His Queen

Sandor x female Reader

Sandor is soft with joffery’s wife

Sandor’s Secret

Sandor x fem!Reader

Summary: Sandor has a secret hidden away from everyone.

Series: Fox and the Hound

Sandor x Reader

Summary: Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Howling At The Moon!

Werewolf!Sandor Clegane x Female Reader

Summary: Sandor unexpectdly finds his mate, as expected she is human...  

Rose

Hound x Reader

Protecting You

Hound x fem!Reader

Imagine Sandor vowing to protect you after you help him with his recovery

Sandor x fem!Reader

Secret Wife (female reader)

Based on this request:  Can you do something with Sandor secretly having a wife. Maybe they met when he was serving king Robert and they met when she was hunting and eloped after a few years. She left before the battle of Blackwater because Sandor didn’t want her getting wrapped up in that so They meet again in Winterfell and no one can actually believe it.  

WITH THIS ADDED: Sandor and reader in a somewhat secret relationship. Tormund keeps hitting on reader in front of Sandor and finally his jealousy gets the better of him and he makes a loud declaration of their love. 

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (1)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Not sure how this rewritten version is going to go, this will be a series like the old book. I have many ideas and now that I have the time I'll try to plan and write as many parts as possible, within reason ofc lol.

also just so you know I'm not going to take this seriously- unless that's what people want--

Reader is Gender Neutral!

The Zapolyarny Palace, a magnificent establishment where the Tsarita orders her subjects.

There, the powerful woman herself sat on her icy throne, her 11 chosen subjects on their knees.

"A mortal in another dimension has the power to travel this world through an already existing descender." She scoffed, slightly leaning back on her throne.

"Dottore, you said you finished the machine, yes?" She looked at the doctor.

"Indeed, Your Majesty." He bowed further, his mask covering his face.

Il Dottore had found the answer to all The Tsaritsa's problems. He discovered someone with an ability she wishes to covet, and how to get to that person.

That person was Y/N, a lazy college student who knows nothing but sleep and games.

Their parents aren't exactly pleased with their hobbies, but they get good grades so they let them do what they want.

Well, that's what they want their parents to believe.

"Now go, I will order the rest to take your places while you're on this mission. I expect you to only return once you bring the mortal here." She said, snapping her fingers.

The Harbingers left the room, some happier than others.

"I wonder if they'll be able to defeat me in a fight..." Childe muttered to himself.

Signora, who stood infront of him rolled her eyes while turning her head. "Stay focused, Childe." She scolded.

"Hmph, for the record, I don't have to listen to you unless it's an order." He scoffed, looking away from her with resentment.

"Then I'm making it an order."

"Why you---!"

"Now, Now, Let's not blow our heads. After all, we're still in Her Majesty's delicate and thin walls..." Dottore said with one of his fingers over his lips, his grin wide.

"I agree. This is no time to be squabbling, this mortal will be of use to The Tsaritsa once they are found." Capitano nodded, standing next to Dottore.

"Right, of course. My mistake." Childe laughed to himself, starting a whispered conversation with Pulcinella.

"This supposed 'Dimension Hopper'... Have you tested it?" Scaramouche inquired, his head held high.

"Of course not, however I am confident it will succeed with the purpose my clone's and I designed it for." He replied with a nonchalant tone, looking quite bored.

"Why do you worry? Jealous my time and experiments aren't being spent on you?" He laughed to himself, his chuckles increasing when seeing his comrade's face change.

"No." He shook his head, turning away from Dottore and focusing his eyes on the door of his lab.

"Honestly, every single one of you have deplorable etiquette." Sandrone coughed into her hand, the machine holding her continuing to walk.

"Shut it, Inventor. You're just salty you can't bring any of your mecha's with you." Dottore mocked, pointing to a place on the ground where he wanted Sandrone to stand.

With hesitance, she stepped down from her machine and looked ready to spit in the Doctor's face.

"Well then, through this door..." Pantalone mumbled, standing in the doorway when seeing the state of his co-workers lab.

"Dottore, it was part of our contract that you'd clean this lab last night!" He shouted, his face forming a mortified expression when viewing the destroyed lab.

Inside the destroyed lab were all of Dottore's clones, they looked like puppies who had just been caught tearing a pillow.

"We did. Or, it used to be clean..." Dottore sighed, shaking his head when walking past Pantalone.

"I'll be gone for awhile, I expect this lab CLEAN by the time I get back." He ordered, the clone's nodding, some with reluctance and scampered off somewhere.

Dottore then stood beside a physical gateway. With the press of a button, the machine sparked to life and a portal emerged from the gateway.

The portal held a night sky's view on the other side, the stars shining and merging with the light in Dottore's lab.

Childe stopped chatting to Pulcinella on his right and stared at the portal intently, looking away when noticing other harbingers take notice.

"What are we waiting for, comrades? Let's get this over with!"

I'm not sure about this at all, feel free to tell me what you think.

Yes, I need to improve on my writing. I been knew lmao

**ALSO THIS IS A STRICT REMINDER - PULCINELLA WILL BE STRICTLY PLATONIC**

I was going to add Pierro to the platonic list however I know some people are down bad for him 👌

Might change my mind on that tho, I'll see if I'm comfortable with writing him romantically or nah.

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

[nahoney22]

❗️ CURRENTLY CLOSED

Thank you all so much for the support and the all the follows! So in celebration, I will be opening my requests up again!

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Please read the following before submitting a request🫧:

🌊 Respect me, and I’ll respect you. Have patience! 🩵

🌊 If you have sent me in a request before and it’s not been done do feel free to send it in again! Sometimes requests have been lost in my inbox and tumblr deleted half of them a while ago! 💋

🌊 Please note that I am entitled to deleting your request if you have been rude, not given me a lot to go off and sent me something inappropriate. 🫶🏻

🌊 If you are requesting NSFW themes, you have to be 18+ and over. I will block you and remove your request promptly if you lie to me about your age. ❌

🌊 You can request for Gender Neutral, Female and Male reader. So please specify or I’ll default to GN or Female unless it’s clear in the request. ⚧️

🌊 You may send me an anonymous request, a non anonymous request OR you could message me privately. 🤫

🌊 Please don’t send me in like a 1000 word request of what you’d like as it can be overwhelming so keep it a few sentences and not a novel 😅 as long as it’s clear what you’d like, I can work off that 😊

🌊 I will write anything from fluff, angst, comfort, smut, AU, dub-con ie sex pollen, hurt/whump. Just tell me what you’d like! 🍆🍓

🌊 You can send in more than one request but please send them in separately and not all in one. 🖊️

🌊 I do not write for the following:

🫧Clone X Clone

🫧NSFW Padawan X Jedi

🫧Poly relationships/threesome

🫧Underage content

🫧Pregnancy tropes

🫧Rape and pedophilia

🫧Character crossovers ie The Bad Batch characters x Game of Thrones characters

🫧Other people’s OC’s

🌊 You can pick up to no more than TWO prompts from the prompt lists below OR you don’t have to use them at all. 😌

🌊 If you do pick one or two, please add it to your request and what list you’d like it from.You may crossover prompts from each list. ❣️

🌊 If I do your request all I ask for of you in return is respect and a reblog as this is the best way to support content creators! Especially if it’s ✨ free ✨

Thank you!

🫧 Prompt List links if you’d like to use (again not compulsory)

🌊 Fluff Prompts

🌊 Enemies to Lovers Prompts

🌊 NSFW Prompts

Tag list:

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