#the wind our steed

[queen-helaenas-pet-spider]

"Denied any part of the incomes of Fair Isle by her brother Lord Franklyn, Elissa asked the Dowager Queen for gold sufficient to build a new ship in the shipyards of Driftmark, a large, swift vessel meant to sail the Sunset Sea. Rhaena denied her request. “I could not bear for you to leave me,” she said, but Lady Elissa heard only, “No.”

--

{Jodie Comer as Queen Rhaena Targaryen and Keira Knightley as Lady Elissa Farman}

[azsazz]

With Me

Eris x Rhysand's Sister!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: I know your request are closed but still writing. In the future could you do something with Eris x rhys sister?

Warnings: Graphic depictions of canon violence

Word Count: 1,520

_________________________________________

It had been on a wisp of an autumn breeze that Eris found out.

Found out about the plans of the High Lord of Spring, how he and his sons planned an ambush on the wife and daughter of the High Lord of Night on their travels to the Illyrian mountains for a visit with her son.

He had been on his horse, red as the leaves on the trees, scouting the borders between Autumn and Spring. The wind ruffled his hair and tickled his pointed ears with the whispers of scheming sons. Eris had stilled the mare beneath him and urged the current with a touch of magic to enhance the conversation.

That High Lord will pay for everything he’s tried to do to ours.

He won’t even know what’s coming. And neither will those little bitches.

Dibs on the older one.

It had eaten Eris throughout the day. Across the rest of his round on the border, during battle strategy, between sword fighting with his younger brothers. Lucien was learning quickly how to play his brothers against each other, and even scored a hit on Eris while his mind had been run through with worry.

He is a smart male but the thought of going to his father with this news didn’t feel right, but keeping it to himself felt even worse. So, after a family dinner that he loathed, Eris put on his emerald robes and marched into the Night Court territory.

He was too late. 

Eris caught the scent of your blood on a tornado of wind that carried the harrowing cries of you and your mothers downfall. You had been brutally attacked by the Spring Court sons and their father, and as Eris crept closer he saw blood coated flowers sprouting from the ground. The High Lord’s magic, a love note to the High Lord of Night.

A soft gurgle caught his attention as he stepped into the clearing washed in moonlight. The sight before him was harrowing; your carriage door ripped off its hinges, the windows blown out. Even the large, black steeds that had been pulling the wagon had been slaughtered, their entrails long lines in the white snow.

A wet cough, one with the whisper of death accompanying it drew his attention. Eris didn’t hesitate to locate you, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you curled beneath your slain mother, her arms still wrapped around you protectively. 

Your eyes were wide with fear, mouth gaping like a fish. Blood of both yours and your mothers surrounded you, leaking from your lips, from between the hands you had pressed weakly to your stomach.

Falling to his knees, Eris reached a hand out but halted when your eyes met his. His mind was reeling, a young warrior with little battlefield experience before a female struggling through her thinning breaths.

Something stirred deeply within him, something he knew but couldn’t say, wouldn’t admit out loud until years later. 

You had enough strength to shift your hand in the snow, reaching towards him, eyes screaming a plea for help from the handsome son of Autumn. 

And he did. He held your organs in his hands as he winnowed you from Night into his own territory, right into the hands of his mother. 

Amaretto stood with a start, the book in her hands falling loudly to the floor. There were no sounds in the room, not even the crackling of the fires raging in the hearths. She kept it this way so she could hear the sounds of her husband's footsteps when he walked down the marble halls of the Woodland House, each echo a shot to her confidence.

“Eris,” she gasps at her son, who looks over at her with wide, pleading, auburn eyes. She halts in her tracks, that look in his eyes, the sheer terror on his face. Her own eyes softened with a knowing look, and she uttered, “Oh, Eris.”

He and his mother worked in tandem all through the night. And when Beron’s footsteps began to sound down the hall Eris had been the one to distract him, goad him. He didn’t care about the bruises and pain inflicted by his father’s hand because it was nothing to the pain he could feel from you, through the thread of the bond that had appeared at the sight of you. 

His mother saved your life with the little trickle of healing magic she had left. Always hidden from Beron, but would use it to save her son’s mate’s life. Two gentle souls that deserved much better hands that you had been dealt in the world.

Eris stayed by your side when you had been moved to a guest room. You hadn’t woken for days and he couldn’t figure out a way to hide you from his father who would surely use you against the Night Court, who were mourning the news of their felled female family members.

Word had come of the slaying of the Spring Court High Lord and the two eldest sons, leaving young Tamlin to take his place. In the fray, the High Lord of Night had been murdered as well, with Rhysand taking the chair of rule.

It was all very confusing times. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Eris,” you plead, tears staining your eyes. He can feel the cracking in your chest even though you’re trying to hide it from him. You’ve never been good at blocking your feelings from your loving mate, but the thought of returning home was all too much. Eris wasn’t understanding your fear, your need to go home to the Night Court after so long away, after Amarantha’s reign of terror has finally ended. “I need to see my brother.”

Eris had hidden you from the wretched female while he and all of the other citizens of the Autumn Court had been forced beneath the mountain. It had been a long, lonely fifty years of trying to find a way to get back to Velaris, to get inside of the barriers that had been protected with an extra boost of Rhysand’s power before he became trapped.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispers, hugging you closely. The both of you are laid up in his bed, days of reacquainting each other with the other’s body after so long away. Your mate had all but fallen apart in your arms, and you in his, the loneliness of your years spent wondering how your mate fared against the powerful female set to ruin your world. 

“Come with me,” you beg wetly, clutching to his clothes. He had winnowed right back into your arms as soon as he was able, and he hasn’t let you go since. You hadn’t wanted him to. “Let’s run away from Autumn, together.” 

Just like Lucien had done, chased away from the Court he knew as home while their awful brothers hunted him down. It had been another harrowing night for Eris, one you held him through. 

Only the knowledge that his brother was safe in the Spring Court had kept him from completely falling apart.

“I can’t just leave like this, fawn,” he answers wetly, stroking your hair back from your face. You’re as beautiful as the day you woke up, when your eyes landed on his and the bond made itself known to you. He has spent every day since thanking the Mother for this time with you, for sparing you that winter night, for keeping you safe when he was trapped under the mountain with no way out. “Not yet.”

Your voice breaks and hot tears stream down your face, throat tightening to the point where no words could break if you tried. You want Eris to come with you, you need Eris to come with you. You’ve only just gotten him back and it cannot be time to give him up already.

“It’s okay, fawn,” Eris consoles sadly. He will keep you in his arms tonight and tomorrow, up until he escorts you to your brother’s land and makes sure that you are safe with them. He has been a selfish male for so many years, falling headfirst into the mating bond. He’d fallen into you completely and without any remorse, the same way you had found yourself falling into him. “You need to do this. And I will be here, fighting for a better life for us until we can be together, freely.”

Eris and Amaretto had come up with an elaborate plan to tell the rest of the family. That Eris would hide you until you healed, and found his mate at the Autumnal Equinox balls. It would ensure your safety, being classed as a High Fae, but also being Eris’ mate. You had learned to deal with Beron and Eris’ insufferable brothers for years.

You love Eris with every fiber of your being, and the thought of parting with him so soon after getting him back tears your heart to shreds, but you need to go, especially after everything Eris had told you happened down there. 

“I love you, Eris.” 

“I love you too, fawn.”

[misswynters]

Wings of Camaraderie

Jacaerys Velaryon x reader x Addam of Hull

[warning: none

[word count: 2.3k

[note | was supposed to be a drabble…got carried away also you are the betrothed of our beloved jace. you have a platonic relationship with addam

[a/n: aero makes an appearance again!!! also this a peaceful version, no usurping or anything.

[requested: by anon

A golden hue by the morning sunrise was casted over Dragonstone, painting the castle in a majestic light. The sea waves crashed rhythmically against the cliffs, their whispers blending with the morning breeze. You, Lady ___ of House Lannister, stood at the balcony overlooking the beautiful sea, your betrothal to Prince Jacaerys Velaryon a bond that promised strength and unity between your houses.

"Good morning," Jacaerys' voice broke through the tranquil morning, his warm presence filling the space beside you. He placed a gentle kiss on your temple, his dark curls brushing against your skin. "Couldn't sleep?"

You shook your head, smiling up at him. "Just admiring the view. It's beautiful here."

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. "Not as beautiful as you."

A playful scoff escaped your lips. "You say that now. Wait until you see me after a long day of riding."

He smirked and let out a chuckle, his laughter a deep rumble that resonated in your chest. "Riding what, exactly?” He asked, the smirk still painted on his lips.

You wanted to act oblivious to his response however you couldn’t keep a straight face. You began to chuckle to yourself, turning away from his face due to your immaturity. Jace cleared his throat, trying to relieve the sudden awkwardness, “Well even then, you'd outshine the sun."

Your eyes met again, a silent understanding passing between you. Despite the political nature of your union, there was genuine affection and respect growing between you. Jacaerys was kind, thoughtful, and brave—everything you had hoped for in a husband.

A knock on the door interrupted your moment. You turned to see Addam Velaryon, Jacaerys' cousin and your close friend, standing at the entrance. His smile was bright and infectious, a contrast to the serious demeanor he often wore during training.

"Hope I'm not interrupting," Addam said, stepping inside. "I thought I'd join you for breakfast."

"You're always welcome," Jacaerys replied, gesturing for Addam to join you on the balcony. "The more, the merrier."

The three of you settled at the table, the morning sun casting a warm glow over your faces. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and shared memories. Addam recounted a particularly amusing incident from his childhood, making you and Jacaerys laugh heartily.

"Do you remember when we tried to fly Seasmoke without permission?" Addam grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "We were nearly caught by the dragonkeepers."

Jacaerys laughed, shaking his head. "How could I forget? We barely made it back without being scorched."

You smiled, enjoying the camaraderie between the two cousins. Their bond was evident, forged through shared experiences and mutual respect. You felt fortunate to be welcomed into this close-knit family, your own bonds with them growing stronger each day.

As breakfast came to an end, Addam suggested a ride along the beach. "It's a perfect day for it. What do you say?"

You and Jacaerys exchanged a glance, both nodding in agreement. "Let's do it," Jacaerys said, his eyes shining with excitement.

The three of you made your way to the stables, the scent of hay and horses filling the air. You chose your steeds, each one a magnificent example of the Velaryon stables' prowess. Your horse, a beautiful chestnut mare named Sunfire, nickered softly as you approached.

Mounting your horses, you rode down to the beach, the wind whipping through your hair and the sound of hooves thundering against the sand. The freedom and exhilaration of the ride filled your senses, the world narrowing down to just the three of you and the endless horizon.

As you slowed your pace, Jacaerys and Addam rode up beside you, their expressions mirroring your own joy. "This is what life should be," Addam said, his voice filled with contentment. "Moments like these."

Jacaerys nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Agreed. It's easy to forget what's truly important with all the responsibilities we bear."

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of belonging. "And what's that?" you asked, curious.

"Family, friends, love," Jacaerys replied, his eyes meeting yours. "Those are the things that matter most."

Addam nodded in agreement, his expression sincere. "And loyalty. Standing by each other, no matter what."

The three of you continued your ride, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment. As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the beach, you knew that this was only the beginning of a lifelong journey filled with love, friendship, and loyalty.

Back at the castle, you found yourselves gathered in the Great Hall, a roaring fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows on the walls. The day's ride had left you exhilarated and more connected than ever.

"Let's make a toast," Jacaerys said, raising his goblet. "To new beginnings and unbreakable bonds."

"To friendship and loyalty," Addam added, his goblet joining Jacaerys'.

"And to love," you finished, your heart swelling with affection for the two men beside you.

The goblets clinked together, the sound ringing out like a promise. As you sipped the rich wine, you felt a deep sense of gratitude. The bonds you were forging here, with Jacaerys and Addam, were as strong as dragonfire and as enduring as the tides.

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the love of your new family, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. And together, you would be unstoppable.

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself settling into life at Dragonstone with ease. The castle's ancient halls and vast libraries became your sanctuary, and the island's rugged beauty a constant source of inspiration. Each day brought new adventures and deeper connections with Jacaerys and Addam.

One particularly bright morning, you awoke to find a note slipped under your door. Unfolding the parchment, you read Jacaerys' familiar handwriting: Meet us at the training grounds after breakfast. We have a surprise for you.

Intrigued, you quickly dressed and made your way to the Great Hall. The tantalizing aroma of freshly baked bread and spiced honey filled the air as you joined Jacaerys and Addam at the breakfast table.

"Good morning," you greeted them, your curiosity piqued. "What's this about a surprise?"

Jacaerys exchanged a conspiratorial glance with Addam. "You'll see soon enough. Eat up—we have a big day ahead."

After a hearty breakfast, the three of you walked to the training grounds. The crisp morning air was filled with the sounds of clashing swords and the grunts of soldiers in training. As you approached, you noticed a group of dragonkeepers gathered around a familiar figure.

"Surprise!" Jacaerys announced, gesturing toward the dragon. "We thought it was time for you to bond with a dragon of your own."

Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight before you. The dragon was a magnificent creature, its scales shimmering with hues of crimson. You recognized it as Aero, one of the untamed dragons of dragonstone. Which you once met on a previous day, the dragon was kinda fond of you. However he left abruptly before hours can claim him.

"He’s beautiful," you whispered, awe-struck.

Addam stepped forward, a reassuring smile on his face. "Go on. Approach him slowly and confidently."

With a mixture of excitement and trepidation, you walked toward Aero. The dragon's eyes, intelligent and ancient, watched you closely. As you extended a hand, Aero lowered his head, allowing you to touch his warm scales.

A sense of wonder and connection washed over you as you felt the dragon's breath against your skin. It was as if you could feel his heartbeat, a steady rhythm that mirrored your own.

"He’s accepted you," Jacaerys said, his voice filled with pride. "You are now his rider."

Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you looked at Jacaerys and Addam. "Thank you. This means more to me than you can imagine."

Over the following weeks, you spent countless hours with Aero, learning to communicate with him and strengthen your bond. Jacaerys and Addam often joined you, their own dragons a constant presence. The three of you became inseparable, your friendship deep ening with each shared experience.

One day, as you were practicing aerial maneuvers with Aero, Jacaerys and his dragon Vermax flew alongside you. Addam, riding Seasmoke, joined shortly after. The three dragons moved in perfect harmony, a testament to the bond their riders shared.

"We make a formidable team," Jacaerys shouted over the wind, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Indeed we do," Addam agreed, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Imagine what we could accomplish together."

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over Dragonstone, you and your companions descended to the beach. The day's practice had left you exhilarated and invigorated. The dragons landed gracefully, their mighty wings creating gusts of wind that sent the sand swirling.

Sitting around a campfire, you shared stories and laughter. Jacaerys, ever the storyteller, regaled you with tales of his ancestors and their legendary deeds. Addam, with his quick wit, kept you entertained with amusing anecdotes and clever remarks.

The night was filled with warmth, the bond between you three growing stronger with each passing moment. As the fire crackled and the stars twinkled above, you felt a deep sense of contentment.

"To our friendship," Jacaerys said, raising a goblet of wine. "May it endure through all trials and tribulations."

"To loyalty," Addam added, clinking his goblet against Jacaerys'. "May we always stand by each other."

"And to love," you finished, your heart swelling with affection for the two men beside you. "May it guide us and keep us strong."

The goblets clinked together, the sound ringing out like a promise. As you sipped the rich wine, you felt a profound sense of gratitude. The bonds you were forging with Jacaerys and Addam were as strong as dragonfire and as enduring as the tides.

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the love of your friends, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

The months passed in a blur of training, laughter, and shared adventures. Your bond with Jacaerys and Addam deepened with each passing day. The castle of Dragonstone became your home, its ancient walls a sanctuary of love and camaraderie.

One day, as you practiced your swordsmanship with Addam, a messenger arrived with a scroll bearing the Lannister sigil. You unrolled the parchment and read the message from your father, Lord Tyland Lannister.

My dear ___,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. Your mother and I are eager to hear news of your life at Dragonstone and the progress of your betrothal to Prince Jacaerys.

I have received word of an upcoming tournament in King's Landing to celebrate the birth of Prince Aegon Targaryen, Rhaenyra's son. It would be a splendid opportunity for you to showcase your dragonriding skills and for us to reunite as a family. Your mother and I look forward to seeing you soon.

With love, Father

You shared the news with Jacaerys and Addam, excitement bubbling within you. The prospect of the tournament and reuniting with your family filled you with anticipation.

"A tournament in King's Landing sounds like a perfect opportunity," Jacaerys said, a smile spreading across his face. "We can showcase our dragons."

Addam nodded, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. "And it will be a chance to demonstrate the strength of House Velaryon and House Lannister.”

As the days passed, you prepared for the journey to King's Landing, your excitement growing with each passing moment. The thought of showcasing your bond with Aero and reuniting with your family filled you with a sense of purpose and pride.

The journey to King's Landing was filled with breathtaking vistas. As you approached the capital, the sight of the Red Keep towering above the city filled you with awe.

The tournament grounds were abuzz with activity, knights and nobles from across the realm gathering to celebrate and compete. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and the clashing of swords.

On the day of the tournament, you donned your finest armor, a striking combination of Lannister crimson and Velaryon silver. Jacaerys and Addam were equally resplendent, their presence commanding attention as they rode alongside you.

As the tournament commenced, you watched in awe as knights jousted and fought with unmatched skill and valor. When it was time for the dragonriding event, you felt a surge of excitement and nerves.

Mounting Aero, you soared into the sky, the wind rushing past you as you performed daring maneuvers and breathtaking aerial displays. The crowd below erupted in cheers and applause, their admiration fueling your determination.

Jacaerys and Addam joined you in the sky, their dragons moving in perfect harmony with Sunfyre. The three of you performed a mesmerizing display of dragonriding prowess, showcasing the strength and unity of your bond.

As you landed, the crowd's applause was deafening, their cheers a testament to the success of your performance. Your father and mother, beaming with pride, rushed to embrace you.

"We are so proud of you," your father said, his voice filled with emotion. "You have brought great honor to House Lannister."

Your mother nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. "And you have found a true family in House Velaryon."

The days that followed were filled with celebrations and festivities, the bonds between your houses growing even stronger. As you danced and laughed with Jacaerys and Addam, you felt a deep sense of fulfillment and happiness.

Your journey had led you to forge bonds that were unbreakable, and your future was filled with promise and hope. No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that with Jacaerys and Addam by your side, you could face anything.

As the sun set over King's Landing, casting a warm, golden glow over the city, you felt a profound sense of gratitude. The bonds you had forged with Jacaerys and Addam were as strong as dragonfire and as enduring as the tides.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @beebeechaos @spn-obession

banner: @cafekitsune

[minsyal]

She Was His

Tywin Lannister x Reader

Summary: Sad-ish.. Written fast and slowly at the same time. It’s been in my wip for… a few years now. Enjoy 💕 not mega edited, apologies for any grammatical thingies.

Word count: 2800

An overwhelming race of the steadfast beating in her chest exploded as soon as the fields were flooded with a haze of crimson. Flags waved proudly in the wretched wind of the summer day, creating a sea of blood upon the grassy plains. The first harvests of the summer crept in from the false spring of years past, providing the first taste of freshness in two years.

She could hear the heralds heralding from the gates of King’s Landing where forces encroached on the sky scraping walls. With enough focus, she could spot him riding in front. Rising gallantly from a white steed, the Lannister patriarch sat with a stiff back and cold resolve. Pleated drapery cascaded down from his broad shoulders to attach to his narrowed hips. Everything about him bled with an unwavering confidence, the same confidence that had stolen her heart from her intended many years previous.

“Princess.” The Master of Whispers was always lurking around corners and concealing himself within the shadows spoke. His hand was cold and plush against her shoulder as he delicately reached out to guide the princess away. “You should be in the Holdfast where it is safest.”

“There is no threat.” Her tone was resolute and her shoulders squared as she shook loose from his light hold. The Grand Maester was also nearby, listening as the two conversed. “Lord Tywin is here for our protection.” Her defense was as strong as the impenetrable stones holding the earth down. Beliefs cemented in centuries of faith grounded her as she, for the first time in years, felt a wave of calm wash over her body.

“A precious assumption from a naive heart.” He, Varys, paced the small space of the stone tower. “Have you considered-”

His words meant nothing to her for he spoke in an ill favor of her beloved lord. She would have none of his lies. Fleeing his presence, she joined the Grand Maester at the window’s ledge. Her fingers were warm against the cold stone that separated her from the open air. “It is anything but an assumption, my Lord.”

“Lord Tywin has not taken a stance during the Rebellion.” Varys tucked his chin to his chest as he eyed the silken fabrics that hung from his wrists. “Greeting the city with thousands of armed men often is not a welcoming sight. Should Lord Tywin decide that his faith with the crown has run thin, it will not end well for the Targaryen dynasty.”

“It will turn in our favor.” Pycelle insisted, pressing his shaking fingers to the heavy chains that hunched his back. “Lord Tywin has served the Targaryen dynasty valiantly and faithfully since the day he became Lord of Casterly Rock upon his father’s death. His heir serves in the King’s Guard and his daughter was set to wed Rhaegar.”

“The crowned-prince was slain on the Trident and Prince Rhaegar was wed to Elia Martell.” Varys reminded the room, though his words were not warm.

The mention of his name made her suddenly uncomfortable. “Rhaegar is dead, but that does not mean that Cercei’s love for him has ceased. She would have married him if not for my father’s decisions.” She pressed her hand firmly down on her stomach to quell the fluttering butterflies that bounced from its walls as she looked into the blinding glint of his crimson armor. “Let him in.”

“My princess,” Varys tone had become concerningly low, “do not allow your love for him to shroud your rational thought. There is a reason that Lord Tywin had not chosen a side in this war. At the death of your brother, he joins the battle. Does that not leave a bitter taste upon your tongue?”

“He will not allow us to crumble.” She defended, a sweat breaking out on her forehead. “He was my intended for many years. This is a way for him to finally have my father accept the betrothal. The Lannister army will assist us in quelling this rebellion once and for all.”

A hush fell over the room as the uneven footsteps of the king echoed up the stairwell. His were followed closely by another, a younger man covered in heavy armor. All eyes were focused directly on the painted wooden door that separated the overlook from the rest of the Keep.

Hobbling into the room, thin and frail, Aerys used any railing he could to maintain his balance. A wild look clouded his lilac eyes, fluctuating from pinpricks to full dilation. Nobody present was truly sure if he was aware of his surroundings. Behind him stood Jaime Lannister, a dashing young knight with hearts to spare. Though popular among the crowds of maidens, she wondered who he was truly interested in.

Pycelle and Varys plead their cases to the lone judge who seemed to go in and out of listening. His fingers shook as they gripped at the golden crown of tangled wings placed heavily atop his brittle hair. For a moment he pressed his thinning lips together and contemplated deeply in a way that she had not seen him do in decades. Deep in the cavernous depths of his mental prison, he listened to the voices that instructed him in his daily life. “Lord Tywin cannot be trusted, my king.” One voice, foreign and shrill, urged while the other, mature and shaken, suggested differently. “Lord Tywin will protect this city. He will end the rebellion.”

Aerys did not ponder on his options for an extended period of time. His decision was made in the filling of a lung as he muttered the few words aside from garbled madness he had in the past few months.

“Let him in.”

Those words seemed to mean nothing to Aerys as his eyes glazed back over from his position in the room. He did not look to his daughter nor his council who all dispersed throughout the throne room. Pycelle began his short jaunt to the front gates where he instructed a footsoldier to deliver word from the King that the gates should be opened to Lord Tywin.

“Come, princess.” Varys began to pull the princess’s arm, but found a stone wall beneath his fingertips. “We must get you somewhere safe.”

She was unmoving and uncaring of what the Master of Whispers had to say. Any words that came from his mouth were null in her mind.

“Princess, you must go now.” Varys pulled forcefully at the princess’s arm, so much so that the sleeve of her gown tore in his fingertips. Any other instance as such would leave a man without his head but an urgentness in his chest compelled him to act with ferocity. “Lord Tywin and his men are not here to ensure your safety.”

She couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe it.

All the years Tywin spent as Hand of the King he had vied for her hand. He had, on multiple occasions, taken her to spend the summer months in Casterly Rock where she could live freely and happily. He had planted seeds of safety in her core that had only cemented her trust in him, and hindered Varys’s attempts to guide the girl away.

None of it mattered, though. Tywin would get what he wanted in the end even if his desires had to adjust to the circumstances.

~~*~~

“What of the girl?” The path to King’s Landing had been an easy one, one that Lord Tywin had made many in the past.

Red velvet cloth draped thickly over the encampment that laid near the forking of Blackwater Rush. The room was occupied by a select few. The men within were to carry out the most heinous of crimes. Though reports conflict, it is generally accepted that the sinister deeds were ordered by the Lannister lord. In the distance laid their destiny, one that would alter timelines that had been set in stone for centuries.

Lord Tywin adjusted his jaw from where it had been clenched harshly to the right of center, keeping his lips pressed into a thin scornful line. “Leave her to me.”

~~*~~

Her feet could not carry her fast enough away from Varys. Echos of his pitchy voice rang through the walls and into her eardrums, beating away like sticks upon clashing cymbals. Heavy material glided across the floor, sweeping every bit of dirt and debris into its train as she ran desperately for the throne room. At the very least, she knew that Ser Jaime and her father would be there, waiting for their fates.

It was an odd moment of willful ignorance on the princess’s part. Deep in her heart she knew that she was running to her death. She was painfully aware of the chaos that ensued in and outside of the walls that had protected her for her entire life. The screaming in the streets were not joyous. No bells rang for celebration. Scarlet embers flecked with honeyed gold were not that of the evening sunset.

The screams were pained, filled and overflowing with an extinguishment of life. Sounds of bells were morphed from crumbling walls and pounding doors as foot soldiers stormed through the cobblestone streets. The evening sunset was not due for hours. Fires were set across the city, illuminating the rising smoke and ash that clouded the sky in a display of power.

She should have left.

Within the throne room, she was met with a sight that brought bile rising to the top of her throat. Churning upset her stomach and she heaved on a dry tongue. Though his skin had paled throughout the years, he looked particularly gaunt lying on the floor with ichor trickling from his neck. His fingers were curled into fists that bruised purple down to his wrists. Thin and stringy hair that once glittered in the vibrancy of the midday sun was now filled and bland, painted a shade of garnet similar to that of Lord Tywin’s armor.

If it weren’t for the circumstance, she could have said that Jaime looked particularly regal upon the Iron Throne. Downcast eyes focused on the glint of steel in his lap, concentrated rivet directed at the dense pressure that moved his shoulders downward.

“Ser Jaime?”

She could see the turmoil in his eyes as he looked up from his seat. The princess should have fled for Dragonstone, Jaime thought as she took heavy steps in his direction. He refused to listen to the nagging voice in his head telling him to do what was honorable. Her fate was already sealed.

“Ser Jaime?” She repeated, steps growing faster in speed and more uneven as she clutched at her chest and neared her father’s corpse.

“Ser Jaime? Please!” Anguished sorrow bled from her lips as she placed a hand gently over her father’s heart. It had not beat a single time in nearly ten minutes.

Footsteps fell in large groups from the Throne Room’s main entrance. The doors were left open from when she had come through them, allowing Tywin and his small garrison east entry.

Tywin Lannister stood there before her, his crimson armor dulled from bloodshed. Whose blood stained his chest, she did not know, but given his stature and ease of movement one could presume that he was relatively unharmed. A simple halting of his hand had the remaining infantrymen stalled in the doorway, the majority turning their backs to the room as they surveyed the hall outside. Tywin began his approach.

Faint screams bounced off the walls and into the rafters of the room, rising upward like plumes of heavy black smoke until they disappeared into the air. The princess was beside herself, her hands now red with her father’s ichor matching the front of her dress where he had bled as she groomed his hair out of his face. For all that he had put her through, he was still her father.

Tywin was upon her now, his face hardened as he watched her shoulders relaxing as the weight of her situation fully dawned on her. She turned to him then, eyes filled with tears that streamed down the contours of her face.

He had always thought of her to be particularly beautiful. In the warm summer months, he had spent many hours courting her in the privacy of his own home. There was a hope in him back then that they could wed and from their union would come heirs that he could marry off to solidify his power. Whether there was true love for her in there was questionable.

There was nothing about the princess he disliked. She was agreeable, fairly intelligent, and held onto his word like it had been written by the gods. Although, she did not worship him. A clear admiration for the man was displayed on her features, especially so when he was leading council meetings or sitting the throne in the place of her father. She had told him on many occasions that she wished to be able to hold the room the same way he did. In fact, there were many things he found he did like. Her company was comfortable, always melding into his presence as if she had always been there. No one would argue her beauty either. Similar in looks to that of her mother, the princess was soft and ethereal in appearance. She dressed in beautiful gowns and always smelled slightly of rose and mint. Even now in the chaos of the sacking, she held that same look.

“What does this mean for me?” The words fell like a feather from her lips, floating softly downward to the floor where her gaze was focused.

When no answer came from Tywin she turned and looked upward at him. “My lord?”

There were truthfully only two possibilities for her future and Tywin knew that.

He extended a hand down to her and stiffened when she accepted it and rose to meet his gaze. Trembling fingers wrapped around his. The entirety of her body was shaking. He took the opportunity to pull her into his chest despite the hardness of his armor. A gentle hand smoothed down the back of her hair and rested on the nape of her neck.

“What will come of me now?” She repeated, enjoying the way he embraced her. Calming to his touch, she deepened her hold on him.

“The war is over, princess.” Tywin hushed her tearful sobs, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head as her crying intensified. “The house of the dragon has fallen.”

The princess only looked into his emerald eyes when his gloved finger guided her vision upward. He knew he should not have allowed himself to indulge in the moment. Robert Baratheon would not let a Targaryen, especially the sister of Rhaegar, live peacefully. He personally saw to the death of the prince and Tywin did not intend to let him see to the princess’s end.

Knowing that no guard dared to turn their heads in their direction, Tywin drew the princess near and placed a light kiss to her lips. Their personalities in that moment were completely opposite. She was ravenous, starved of his touch and seeking validation in his arms. Her hands found the dimples of his waist, barely detectable through the armor, and rested there. If it were not for the metal, she would have dug crescents into his skin.

On the other hand, he was calm. A storm brewed in the pit of his stomach, but he did not show it.

She let out a soft breath when the cold metal sunk itself into her chest. Tywin held her still, not allowing her legs to give out. One hand held the blade firmly by his side, soaked in her blood. The other was cradling her body, holding her to his chest. An uncomfortable warmth oozed from the bodice of her dress. It added depth to the blood that already stained his breastplate.

Her lips parted to speak but nothing could come from her lungs for no air remained. Pleading questioning eyes met ones that would display sorrow and remorse if they could. It would be a cold day in hell before Tywin would admit what he had done was wrong. Every fiber of his being scolded him, but his own selfishness was not enough to start a war with a man who had just won his own.

Tywin knew that the only end for her that he would accept was the embrace of death. If not for his blade, Robert Baratheon would either have the princess killed or marry her to claim the throne. Selfishly, Tywin could not bear to see her wed to another.

She was his.

Her love, her body, her heart, and her death was his.

That was how it was supposed to be.

[sweetbonniebel]

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

Nine

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader (platonic), Qoren Martell x reader

Synopsis: Driftmark happens, Aegon takes a stance and the divide only grows bigger.

Masterlist <-previous , next->

minors mdni

118 AC Pentos

"Aunt y/n!" Baela and Rhaena ran towards you, wide smiles on their faces. You grinned seeing the twin girls and their parents.

"It is so good to see you sweet girls. How much you've grown! You'll be taller than your father soon." You jested ruffling the locks of their silver hair.

Laena and Daemon approached you arm in arm, their benefactor some Pentoshi lord greeted you as well offering you sanctuary in his home. 

"Laena my sweet cousin." You whispered kissing the cheek of the curly haired woman. "Brother."

"Sister." Daemon replied pressing a kiss to your temple and hugging you against his chest. 

Laughs and jokes were shared during the dinner held by the prince of the city. You smiled as you joined your family after such a long time apart.

...

You and Aegon mounted your dragons and flew to Driftmark. Tears escaped your eyes, the wind blew them away. Your bonded dragon screeched sensing your pain.

"Dracarys Vermithor!" You shouted letting your emotions get the best of you. Your steed expelled a breath of gold fire flying right through it. The heat of his flames brought you necessary comfort. 

"Cousin." You whispered hugging Rhaenys, her black veil covered her tear stained cheeks. She has lost her only daughter after years of being apart. Her grandchildren Rhaena and Baela obediently stood behind her, you kneeled next to the two girls. 

"I'm so sorry." You whispered hugging the two of them, your fingers tangled in their silver hair. Rhaena sniffled as she hugged your body.

Laena's casket has been placed on the edge of a cliff overlooking the salty sea. The Velaryon soldiers tied the knots to ensure it's safe passing. 

"We join today at the Seat of the Sea to commit the Lady Laena of House Velaryon to the eternal waters, the dominion of the Merling King where He will guard her for all the days to come." Vaemond recited the funeral speech. You watched Laena's casket with tears in your eyes. Baela hugged your side, your arm protectively wrapped around the young girl.

"As she sets to sea for her final voyage, the Lady Laena leaves two true-born daughter on the shore." Your brows furrowed as Vaemond stared at Daemon who seemingly did not care that his wife has just passed. "Though their mother will not return from her voyage, they will remain bound together in blood. Salt courses through Velaryon blood." His gaze turned to Rhaenyra and her sons. "Our runs thick. Ours runs true. And ours must never thin." Daemon chuckled.

He chuckled

Anger coursed through your veins. The people present stared with disdain at him.

"My gentle niece. May the winds be as strong as your back, your seas as calm as your spirit, as your nets be as full as your heart. From the sea we came. To the sea we shall return." Laenor's eyes were empty as he started as his sister's casket was lowered onto the depths of the sea. Dragons circled drift mark as a royal funeral was held. 

You sat next to Helaena as she played with a spider, her wavy silver locks blew freely in the wind.

"Hands turns loom, spool of green, spool of black; dragons of flesh weaving dragons of thread." She said those words as if in a trance, you smiled in sympathy. No one noticed her gift, the gift that saved house Targaryen from the doom. 

"You have a gift sweet girl." You whispered caressing her hair, her brother watched as you comforted their "lunatic" sister.

"Aemond." You said greeting your nephew. "You have grown." 

"Hello aunt." Aemond answered ever the proper boy.

"Are you excited for your engagement?" You asked curiously, remembering the news that Aemond and Helaena will marry once they turn sixteen.

"I would rather have a dragon." He responded gruffly "Everyone else has one but I don't."

"Rhaena also doesn't have a dragon... Did you know that Gaemon the glorious didn't have a dragon until the age of two and twenty? So by my count you still have some time." You tried to console your nephew.

"You claimed a dragon at eight! One of the greatest beasts!" He raised his voice.

"Some things take time, Aemond. Dragons are not like horses, you cannot just jump onto it's back and ride. The bond we share with dragons is deep and magical, it's as if our souls are connected." You explained, trying to lit the teenagers sour mood.

"Does that mean I will be dragon less?" Aemond asked voice breaking slightly.

"You are a Targaryen, Aemond. It is your birthright to bond with a dragon, and you will do that. There are no dragons to be claimed but there are eggs."

"I don't want an egg! I want a dragon! A full grown dragon!." He shouted and stomped away.

Everything was tense and awkward, the little boy you one played with was gone. Viserys was under the influence of his wife and her father, he was restored as hand after Lords Lyonel tragic passing that you knew was no accident. 

"Sister" Daemon whispered approaching you as you stared at the endless salty sea stretching before you.

"Brother" You answered not looking at him, the stunt he pulled before still itched you. "Have you no shame?" You asked not bearing to look at the man.

"I have protected our niece's honour." He answered simply.

"You are impossible, your wife has just died." You accused.

"She has died along time ago, the moment I have taken her from Westeros." He whispered "I should have listened to her, returned to Drimftmark before it was too late." He said bitterly. You sighed deeply.

"It is painful, isn't it?." You whispered placing your palm on his his back. 

"I could never be in more pain then she was." Daemon muttered, taking your palm in his large hand. 

"The God's are cruel, even ours." Bitter truth left your lips "You should tend to your daughters." You said leaving Daemon alone. 

...

Your chambers were prepared by the maids of house Velaryon. Dried tears stained your cheeks. 

"Aunt y/n?" A small voice whispered from the other side of your chambers. 

"Yes?" You answered the door, Baela and Rhaena stood together. "What is it?" 

"We... Could we stay with you?" Baela the braver of the twins asked, you nodded silently and let them into your chambers. The girls climbed into your bed as you laid between them.

"Could you tell us stories of our mother?" Rhaena asked leaning on your lap. 

"Since the beginning your mother was a fiery young girl. She had inherited the beauty of your grandmother without the dark hair and the bold, adventurous spirit from your grandfather. She was brave and kind. I saw as she became one with her giant beast as if it were nothing, a true dragon rider. " You smiled at the memory of you two flying together over King's Landing. "One time, Lord Jason Lannister tried to 'impress' her by listing the amount of gold he could offer her as his wife. It was rather stupid since the Velaryon's were richer than the Lannisters, she said and I remember it clear as day. Are you willing to make the same bribe to Vhagar to reside on the giant rock you call home, Lord Jason? The man paled with fear and didn't bother your mother ever again."

The girls chuckled.

"Do you think that Vhagar will accept me?" Rhaena asked.

"Vhagar is old and tired, when Balerion was her age he laid in his cavern all day, eating what was given him. I do not think that Vhagar will be able to match your delicate nature." You mumbled a bit un-sure.

"Vhagar was my mother's dragon, I am excepted to claim her." Rhaena muttered leaning on your shoulder, Baela nodded.

"Who excepts that?" You questioned curious.

"Father." Baela answered for her sister, you chuckled at the irony.

"If your father followed this rule he would be the one to claim Vhagar or Meleys. They were his parent's dragons and yet he claimed Caraxes our uncles mount, your grandfathers."

"Really?" Baela and Rhaena exclaimed at the same time.

"I think that Silverwing would be better suited for you, Rhaena. If you wish I can take you back to Dorne with me so you can claim her."

The Velaryon girl visibly brightened up, she nodded furiously.

"Please, aunt y/n!" She exclaimed.

"If your father or grandmother agrees I see no reason not to."

"But what of Vhagar?" Baela murmured.

"She will spend the rest of her days, without bothersome humans." You jested and the twins lightly chuckled. "Now my little dragons go back to your chambers." 

The two girls scurried to their own chambers, you saw that their mood has been improved slightly. 

...

You were restless and could not sleep, you deciding that visiting Vermithor was the best course of action. Castle Driftmark was a dull thing, even more than Dragonstone.

The beach however was empty, only the sound of waves delicately crashing against the cliffs was heard. You wondered if Vermithor has ever been to Driftmark before. The sound of footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts. You glanced in the direction of the noise, the familiar straight silver hair made you sigh.

"Aemond!" You called startling the boy, he slowly turned around, you beconed him over and he obliged. "You were sneaking off to claim Vhagar." You stated and he paled slightly. "No need to lie to me."

"Yes, aunt." He admitted and lowered his head "But I only did it because I have no other choice!"

"No choice? Do you know how dangerous it is to approach Vhagar?" You sighed deeply, not wishing to startle your nephew.

"I-..." He started but the words died down in his throat "Without a dragon I'm worthless."

"Aemond, you are not worthless." You kneeled infant of the boy, taking his face into your hands. "Who makes you think that?" You demanded.

"Father... He never pays attention to me, I doubt he even knows my name." Tears threatened to spill from his violet orbs. "And he only paid attention to Helaena after she claimed Dreamfyre. What kind of a Targaryen am I without a dragon?!"

"Your father should be the last person the speak of claiming dragons." You stated and Aemond looked up at you.

"He rode Balerion."

"Once." You added "He rode Balerion once, and then he died. He never formed a bond with him, he couldn't have. Therefore he has no right to talk."

A small smile made it's way onto Aemond's thin lips.

"I think that there is a dragon waiting for you." You mumbled caressing his straight silver hair.

"What dragon?"

"Perhaps you should go with Rhaenyra to dragonstone, there is Grey Ghost and Sheepstealer. But I think Grey Ghost is most like you."

"Most like me?"

"Timid, hidden in the shadows, observing from afar. You know I was a lot like you when I was your age... Nobody cared for me after Grandfather died, I had no parents and Rhaenyra was the only thing on Viserys's mind. When my brother was in King's Landing which was not often he made an effort to be there for me, but it is not the same as a parents love is suppose." You got carried away slightly, burdening a child with your problems. "I'm sorry Aemond, I shouldn't have said that."

"I- It is all right... thank you, aunt."

"Talk to Rhaenyra of returning with her to Dragonstone."

"Could you... Could you come with me? I know you are well aquainted with dragons, and perhaps if you wished, you could help me."

You smiled fondly at his unsure rambling.

"I would be delighted, Aemond. We can even go tomorrow." You offered and he nodded his head. "Now go back to your chambers, it is late and you need all the strength you can muster."

The thin boy nodded and ran off to the castle, you felt as if a great heaviness was lifted from your chest allowing you to breathe.

...

You missed your children. You thought while eating breakfast alone. Aegon was probably in his temporary chambers sleeping or reminiscing with his siblings.

"y/n" You heard your name, you raised your gaze from the mutton pie, and fruit that were placed on your plate.

"Daemon." You mumbled continuing eating, he took a seat in front of you and ordered a servant to bring him breakfast. They placed a steaming bowl of porridge with fruit, different hams and cheeses and a slice of the same pie you ate.

"You do not seem sad... Did you love her, or married her to spite our brother?" You asked glancing at the hardened features of your brother.

"...I did love her." He whispered avoiding your gaze and digging into the food on his plate. "Is this what you felt when you lost Qoren?" His question surprised you, not once has he addressed your husband by name.

"I was miserable when he died." You admitted "But I had to stay strong, for my children for the kingdom." Daemon hummed drinking the honey mead. "...I was happy with him, he loved me and our children with ever fibre of his being. How can a man seem so strong only to wither slowly at the hands of a disease?" You questioned rhetorically.

Tears began to form in your eyes as you remembered the years you spent with Qoren. The wet tears dropped on your dress, but you quickly wiped them and took a swing of the watered down wine.

"I'm sorry your happiness was taken from you." Your brother said tenderly, which was unlikely for him. "If I could give you the happiness you long for I would." Daemon muttered, placing his palm over yours.

"My children are the source of my happiness now." You declared "As should your daughters be, they are mourning the death of their mother, Daemon. You should be there for them, the other day they came crying to me, asking me to tell stories of their mother. Then Rhaena said that you told her to claim Vhagar, she is but a child!" You raised your voice "I offered to take her with me to Dorne so she could claim Silverwing."

"Silverwing, yes..." He questioned, passively accepting your anger.

"Yes, Daemon. With your permission of course." You added, the anger simmering in your insides.

"You took great care of them."

"Someone has to." You snipped, narrowing eyes at Daemon "I don't think that the good father characteristic passed onto you or Viserys."

Daemon chuckled and nodded.

"Im afraid not, no. But you dear sister... if I worshiped the seven I would say you are the embodiment of the mother." His backhanded flattery made the anger slowly die out. "Baela and Rhaena spoke of your talk, I already agreed. You helped them greatly... They need a mother."

"Daemon..." You sighed knowing where he was heading. "Laena's body is barely cold and you talk of marrying again?!"

"Not immediately!" He countered "I just... you lost your husband, I lost my wife and-"

"And what? You'll take me to Dragonstone and wed me in the tradition of our house?"

"If you'll agree." He stated.

You held affection for Daemon, despite the horrid things he did throughout his life. He was still the only person who saw you, for you. Actively trying throughout your upbringing, whenever he was present.

"I promise you will be happy. We will fly on dragon back like we used to so many years ago..." Your brother pleaded.

"If Viserys gives his blessings I will become your wife.." You answered, Daemon stared at your features. Silent agreement and happiness etched on his sharp features.

...

"Aemond?" You questioned entering his chambers, he sat by the window consumed by a book that rested atop his lap. He tore his gaze away from the pages and glanced in your direction. "Are you ready?"

He nodded and the two of you walked to where Vermithor was resting, you fixed the black leather gloves on your fingers. The bronze fury bellowed as he saw you approaching.

"This is my nephew, Aemond. We will help him claim a dragon." You said nuzzling your face in his warm scales. You helped Aemond climb onto the saddle, and then strapped him in. You patted Vermithor's scales and without a command he leaped into the air, his claws dipping into the salty water before climbing into the sky, high above the clouds.

"How does it feel?" You asked Aemond, that sat in front of you.

"It feels... like I belong." He answered.

Vermithor landed near the hills of dragonmont, startling the dragon keepers there. You slid off of his bronze wing and helped your nephew do the same.

"Can you smell any dragons, old boy?" You questioned placing your palm on his horns. He chirped and let out a screech, turning towards the misty mountains. You left your dragon and headed in the direction the bronze fury pointed in.

"It is very on brand for him to hide in the mist." You said to Aemond as he walked next to you. "Hiding from the small folk... or Cannibal."

He stayed silent as if deep in thought. You observed his reactions.

"Can you feel him Aemond?"

"Her." He stated and moved ahead, slowly disappearing into the mist. You stayed behind letting Aemond do what he thought was right, and by the looks of it he might claim a dragon today.

A chirp and then a screech, orange light spread among the mist. And yet you didn't feel worried. You could hear Aemond's faint voice, High Valyrian rolling off his tongue. At the speed of lightning, Grey Ghost flew right out of the mist, leaving a trail behind him. Aemond's green cloak flowing in the wind, as he soared in the sky.

...

Moons passed after Laena's death, Daemon stayed with his daughters at Driftmark. You on the other hand returned to Dorne with Aegon much earlier, you missed your children and longed to see them.

Daemon stood before the doors to his daughters room. Despite being dressed in leather armor, Dark Sister strapped at his side he felt nervous. Nervous to face his nine year old daughters. He knocked on the door and entered.

"Father." Baela noticed and bowed her head slightly, Rhaena ran and hug his legs.

"Father can I please go to aunt y/n?" She asked, her violet eyes brimming with tears.

"Soon Rhaena, I promise." He answered caressing her long silver hair. "I- I" He stuttered "What do you think of your aunt?"

"She is nice." Rhaena muttered.

"Aunt y/n gives the greatest gifts. The dresses she makes are beautiful." Baela added.

"She was great friends with your mother." The Targaryen Prince said. "Would you be opposed if you saw her more often?"

"No, I don't think so." Baela the braver of the twins answered for her sister.

"I know you are young, and there are thing you need to know. Despite being a princess your aunt has lost protection when her husband died. I offered that I would protect her from now on." He tried to explain.

"Protect how?" Rhaena meekly asked.

"...By marrying her." Baela answered for him, understanding the situation better.

"Yes." He confirmed. "You are young, you need a mother figure. And you would get to meet your cousins better."

"Whatever you wish father." The twins answered.

"I know this is difficult and I do not except you to understand, but just know I love you two deeply. And wish what is best for you."

They nodded and leaned into his touch when he wrapped his arms around them.

...

"Prince Daemon, Your Grace." Ser Harrold announced opening the doors to the king's chambers. Viserys laid in his bed covered in blankets.

"Brother." Daemon said bowing his head and approaching his grace.

"Daemon..." Viserys wheezed staring at his brother. "I am so glad too see you, it has been too long."

"We have seen each other a few moons back, is your memory so bad you do not remember?." Daemon jested. "Viserys I have a favour to ask of you."

"A favour?" Viserys asked curiously "Whatever do you need?"

"I wish to marry y/n." He admitted, a pregnant silence fell upon the room. Only the crackling of the fire was heard.

"And what does y/n say of this union?" The elder brother asked, thinking of the girl he though of as a daughter.

"She has agreed on the condition that you agree and bless our marriage." Daemon responded.

"She is too good for you, Daemon." Viserys wheezed staring at his brother. "But if it is her wish to marry you I shall give you my blessing."

"Thank you, your grace."

...

A raven arrived from King's Landing, the grand maester of Sunspear handed you the letter. You saw the royal seal of your brother and broke it curiously.

My dear sister,

Word has reached my ears that you wish to marry Daemon. I know how distraught you were when your first husband passed away, if you deem Daemon worthy of becoming your second husband I give you my blessing. I know you make no mistakes in your judgment so I trust your decision and hope that your marriage with our brother will be as happy as your first one.

In return for your endless support and upholding our traditions. I shall give Daemon and you land so your future children will have an inheritance. The Stepstones have been won by Daemon, and are now a part of the seven Kingdoms. But without a strong presence to command the island they have fallen into disarray. If you wish it the Stepstones will become your land you may do as you wish with them. Your children will inherit the seat after you pass and as a royal decree, they will be titled as princes and princesses of the realm. The sacrifices you have made helped the realm greatly, you have brought Dorne into the seven kingdoms, secured wards from the lords of Westeros and aided the royal coffers. I will be forever in debt to you my dear sister.

You read the letter, tears flowed from your green irises staining the parchment. It felt as if he was saying goodbye to you.

"Mother?" Nymor asked seeing the tears that flowed freely.

"Yes my sweet?" You asked

"Why are you sad?" He asked and you smiled, picking him up and placing him in your lap. He was now five and very bright.

"I am happy my dear child." Your sons silver hair shined in the sun.

"Then why are you crying?"

"Sometimes when we're happy we cry." You explained "Your uncle and I will marry."

"Uncle Daemon?" He asked curiously and you nodded.

"He will become my husband." You said caressing your sons silver locks.

"Like father was?"

"Just like father was..."

"Will I have more siblings? I do not want to be the youngest Darren, Ivor and Tyla treat me like a baby!" Nymor complained and you chuckled.

"You will always be my baby." You said kissing his chubby cheek, he giggled.

...

"Maron!" You stopped your brother in law as he strolled with his wife through the gardens your late husband built for you.

"y/n, what is it that you need?" He asked walking up to you with his wife the Lady Qyria.

"I will need your help governing Dorne in my son's steed." You announced.

"I am honoured y/n but what has happened?" He asked confused.

"Daemon and I will marry, His Grace the King gave us Stepstones to govern. I will not be able to be in two places at once, that is why I need your help." You explained

"Will you be leaving Dorne?" Qyria asked.

"I do not want to, but my attention will be divided between Dorne and the Stepstones. For the time being Daemon will stay on Driftmark." You answered strolling with the couple through the water gardens.

"Let us know if you ever need help taming the Stepstones, it is a disputed land. Keeping peace will be difficult." Maron offered, you thanked your brother in law.

"Bloodstone will become to heart of the islands. I believe it will be quite expensive to raise castles there but the payoff will be large. The islands are very strategically placed, any voyages will have to pass through the Stepstones." It was true, that is why your brother and the Velaryons fought in the Stepstones for so long. But now instead of war, the islands will be conquered through alliances.

"What of Darren and Nymor?" You brother in law asked.

"I will take them whenever it is possible, but Sunspear is their home. They will be raised here, as is befitting for Dornish Princes."

"As you wish princess." The slender man answered.

...

Dragonstone

Half of the court of KIng's Landing sailed for Dragonstone to witness the wedding of Prince Daemon and Princess y/n. You were happy to see your family during a happier occasion. Aegon was less thrilled to see his father and mother.

"Aegon." You approached your nephew as he sulked in his chambers.

"Oh, aunt." The boy muttered raising his thin eyebrows at you.

"Sunfyre has been snippy all week." You answered sitting next to Aegon on his bed. He shrugged his shoulders. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong."

"Oh sweet boy, you're not as good at hiding emotions as you think you are. What is bothering you?" The prince sighed and sit up on the bed leaning against your shoulder.

"Nothing escapes you does it?" He whispered, you caressed his long wavy hair.

"I have known you since you were born, Aegon. I have raised you for over eight years. I know when something is bothering you."

"Why is it so easy for you to act like my mother when Alicent can't be bothered?" You were surprised to hear Aegon call his mother by her name. Tears welled up in his violet eyes.

"I don't know sweet boy." You muttered.

"You are more of a mother to me than she could ever be." He cried clinging to you.

"Shh..." You comforted him.

"And father doesn't care for me! He only cares for Rhaenyra! She is his golden child while I am cast into the shadows!"

"My brother is not a good father, that is true." You muttered "It is not fair to you or your siblings."

"I only ever wished for him to be proud of me, but that will never happen will it?" He asked, his violet eyes reddened by tears.

"I will always be proud of you. I have seen you grow to a fine prince, a great dragon rider and cousin and I love you like I love my own children."

"I love you too, mom." Aegon whispered, you kissed the crown of his head.

...

"Blood of two, joined as one. Ghostly flame and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness, the vow spoken through time of darkness and light." Viserys recited as he stood at the foot of Dragonmont.

You stood in front of Daemon dressed in Valyrian robes, holding a dragon glass knife as did your brother. You pressed the blade against your palm, causing blood to trickle. You pressed your finger in the blood and drew the symbol of fire on your brothers forehead. He drew the symbol of blood on your own.

"In the eyes of fourteen flames we are now joined, one soul, one body one heart." You and Daemon recited, two goblets of heated wine mixed with blood were handed to you. You took a swing of the drink and passed the cup to the servants.

Daemon pressed his palm against your cheek and pressed his lips against yours, you leaned into him and deepened the kiss. Vermithor and Caraxes roared circling the ceremony and breathed dragon fire.

...

The maids helped you take off the heavy headpiece that rested atop your brow. Annora unlaced the beige and red robes sliding it off your body. Soon you were left only in your linen nightgown, you hair free of any braids.

Once the maids left your brother entered our chambers, his body covered by a dark red robe.

"y/n" He approached you.

"Daemon." You answered, leaning into his embrace. "It seems you have finally gotten what you wanted after all those years."

"It appears that the god's have blessed me in some sort of way." He answered running his fingers through your hair. "Tell me you did not wish for this."

"At some point where I was young, after grandsire told me of his and grandmothers love story."

Silence befallen the chamber, shallow breaths occasionally broke the silence. Daemon kissed your neck and slowly made it's way to your lips. A breathy moan escaped you as his hands trailed down your body.

"My sweet wife." He murmured untying the nightgown and letting it drop to the floor leaving you naked.

You rolled your eyes and pressed your lips against his silencing him. He groaned and let you guide him to the bed, you laid on the comfortable mattress and Daemon crawled atop you. You could feel his cock press against your leg, you moved your hand down to wrap your fingers around him. Squeezing and pumping a few times.

"Enough teasing." Daemon groaned throwing his head back, he pressed his warm palm over yours and moved his dick so the head pressed against your entrance.

"Daemon..." You moaned at the unfamiliar intrusion. His dick felt different than your husband's, maybe a bit shorter but thicker.

"Soon, sweet girl." He whispered above your ear pressing a kiss against your temple, and slowly pushed in. Inch by inch until his pelvis pressed against your clit.

"Ah..!" You moaned breathily as he bottomed out, he slowly pulled out and pressed himself in one go.

"Will you give me a child?" Daemonn groaned above you "You looked so alluring pregnant."

"Daemon..." You moaned in response "Please!"

Your body moved with his hard thrusts, his chest pressed against your breasts squeezing them with his weight.

"Yes? I'll breed you well, then." Your husband moaned, as you squeezed around him.

You squeezed Daemon's shoulder, bringing his attention to your face.

"Hmm?" He murmured

"I wanna... on top." Daemon smirked and obeyed, pulling out laying comfortably on the bed awaiting your next move.

You straddled his hips, his cock pressed between your thighs. You sheathed his cock in your warm walls.

"Move, please." The rogue prince moaned under you, pressing his hips upwards for some friction.

"I didn't take my husband for a beggar." You teased refusing to move your hips. "I quite like it."

"Careful, sister." He groaned menacingly, putting his hands on your waist.

"It's fun to see you like this, moaning under me."

Daemon muttered something under his breath, and jutted his hips upwards. You chuckled and began to move your hips, bringing the coil in your belly closer to snapping.

"Close!" You squeaked, pressing your palms against Daemon's toned abdomen.

After a few hard thrusts your husband spilled inside, his warm seed brought your over the edge. Panting you clutched onto his shoulder, collapsing on his chest. Daemon chuckled, and wrapped his arms around your naked back.

"You did good, my love." He whispered pressing a kiss to your silver hair.

The funureal of Laena Velaryon and the conflict that arose on Driftmark only separated the Greens and Blacks. After a year Princess y/n and Daemon married and begun construction of castle Blackfyre. During the builidng of the castle many villages arose on the shore of Bloodstone and Grey Gallows. Now that the island was free of pirates trade erupted. The Ports build there rivalled Oldtown and Lannisport. Princess y/n used dragonfire to make the fort impenetrable and quick to build. After three years most of the castle Blackfyre was build. At the foot of the Volcano Dragonbone a dragonpit was built. - From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

[blackseafoam]

Marked Part III

A Bad Batch x Red Dead Redemption crossover AU (with illustrations)

PART 1 - PART 2

Word count: 2002

CW: Stuff you'd normally find in a western story. Swearing, smoking, gun touting, bullet wounds, horse jokes.

“Why do you keep looking over there? The job is as good as done, Arthur.” Javier gestured with his whiskey glass, elbows planted on the bar top.

“Yeah, have a drink. We earned it.” Lenny nodded with his beer.

“Slow down, Summers, remember the last time you came here to ‘wind down’” Javier jabbed, snickering.

“Shut up, Esquella.” Lenny muttered into his glass as he raised it.

Arthur barely noticed the two bickering. His mind elsewhere. There was a nagging feeling those three soldiers weren’t done fighting yet. The energy between those men was almost as if they could talk without speaking. Their expressions clearly showed they were not ready to give up yet. Like an animal in a snare, biting and scratching to its last breath, chewing off its leg to get away if it has to.

He sipped his whiskey but kept one eye dutifully on the front of the Sheriff's office, just in case, even as the sun went down and the warm light of lanterns and candles became the only way to see.

BOOM. Every glass on every table shuddered at once. Lenny choked on his drink.

Dutch’s boys knew the sound of dynamite all too well. Arthur got to his feet and ran outside, closely followed by his inebriated posse.

The side of the sheriff's station was blown wide open, a gaping hole in the wall revealed the inside of the holding cell, and prisoners nowhere to be seen. Arthur cursed, making eye contact with the deputy inside, on the other side of the bars, standing frozen in shock.

“Damn, these guys might be even crazier than us.” Lenny huffed. Javier sighed with frusdration.

“Goddamn. I can’t believe it.” Arthur couldn’t help but sound a little impressed.

Arthur’s attention went to the muddy ground, to the scrambling footprints, four, no, five sets of boots led toward the main road, then disappeared.

“They got on a wagon, come on.” Arthur growled, then turned to get his horse. This bounty was now officially giving them a run for their money.

“Do you think they heard that?” Wrecker laughed as soon as his brothers climbed aboard the wagon. With a flick of the reins they were off as quickly as Murray could pull the full load. Tech, being the designated driver, climbed to the front and took the reins. They headed south out of the town,the opposite direction of their old camp. It almost felt good to get into some action again, almost.

“Where’s Meggy?” Hunter huffed as he took a seat.

“In here!” His seat spoke. Echo huffed a laugh as Hunter stood in shock and opened the crate. The three siblings in the cargo area shared a reunion hug.

“How touching.” Crosshair caught up to the wagon on Havoc, rifle trained to the sky in one hand, reins in the other. The jet black steed’s nostrils flaring with excitement. “Celebrate later, we’re being followed.” He cast a glance over his shoulder.

Three horsemen coming up from behind caught the light of the train station on the edge of town. Barely visible at this distance, but closing fast.

“Did you bring our guns?” Echo began moving the supply crates to barricade the rear of the open wagon.

“In here!” Meggy handed him a saddlebag from the floor.

Echo moved one crate toward the front of the wagon. Hunter motioned Meggy to take cover behind it. “Do not move from this spot until we say so.” He said sternly. Meggy looked at him with eyes wide open, nodding and sitting frozen still. The intensity in his expression taking her aback.

Wrecker loaded his sawn-off shotgun, Echo spun his pistol, and Hunter turned the safety off of his revolver. Tech urged the horse to continue as fast as he dared into the night. He wasn’t familiar with this road but from his vague recollection of maps it was relatively straight.

The first shot rang out, splintering through the back of the driver’s seat. Missing Tech’s hip by inches. Being on the wagon meant their aim would be marginally better than their pursuers at full gallop. Hopefully.

Sure enough, it was their three escorts from earlier that came into view in the moonlight. One of them took another shot, but it went wide. Hunter and Echo returned fire, forcing the bounty hunters to spread out evasively. Meggy watched in horror over the crate, covering her ears and not daring to move a muscle as she crouched in the corner. Her limbs shook with adrenaline.

“We are not going to outrun them, we need a plan!” Tech called over his shoulder.

“No way we’re surrendering!” Wrecker bit out as he rolled into the back to take cover.

“I have an idea.” Tech gritted his teeth and veered the wagon onto the train tracks.

“TE-ECH, what are you do-oing!?” Echo yelled, the seriousness in his tone cut by his jostling voice. The wagon wheels bumped violently as they rolled over the railroad ties.

“Blackwater!” Is all he said in response.

Echo didn’t have time to ask more questions, as more shots rang out. A shot went straight through Hunter’s side, and into the crate protecting Meggy.

Hunter staggered, Echo noticed. “Hunter’s hit!” He announced. Hunter was still firing after he stumbled to his knees, Wrecker stowed his shotgun went to his brother’s aid. His close-range weapon wasn’t much help in the firefight anyway.

“We still need more distance!” Crosshair spat, his expression steeling as he thought. He knew that as soon as their enemies caught up with the wagon, it was all over. And they were getting uncomfortably close by the second.

The massive railroad bridge that was Bard’s Crossing stretched high over the yawning mouth of the Dakota River before it spanned out into Flat Iron Lake. Tech was leading them straight for it, an absolute madman, but probably one of the only people who could pull it off. Crosshair couldn’t help but smirk at his brother, the lunacy of the situation.

In that moment, Crosshair realized what he needed to do. He slowed Havoc to a canter. The stallion grunted, wanting to stay with his herd.

“Crosshair, what are you doing?!” Wrecker called out, crouched over Hunter, trying to staunch the hole in his side.

“Buying time.” Crosshair said, releasing the reins to cock his rifle. Using his seat to further slow his horse.

“This isn’t part of the plan!” Tech started to slow Murray.

“Too bad, it is now. GO! I’ll meet you in Blackwater.”

Tech nodded reluctantly, and urged Marauder back up to speed.

“This is not good, we shouldn’t split up!” Echo lowered his pistol, watching Crosshair and Havoc disappear into the darkness. “Running off to be the hero never works Crosshair!” He futilely called after his brother.

After the bridge, Tech steered the wagon back onto the road uncomfortably close to an oncoming train, thankfully still going slow as it left the nearby station. He cast an apologetic wave at the conductor who was visibly angry. They pulled the wagon over as soon as possible, Tech held up the driver’s lantern to check on Hunter. “How bad?” He was almost afraid to ask.

“A little worse than a graze, but I don’t think it hit anything important.” Wrecker reported.

“I’d… beg to differ, Wrecker. Feels pretty important.” Hunter huffed a small laugh which became a groan.

Echo rummaged through the kitchen crate for a whiskey bottle. Handing it to Hunter, who took a long swig before returning it. His face scrunching in anticipation before Echo splashed the stinging liquid onto the wound.

Tech finished by cleaning and staunching the wound with fabric from their triage kit, leftover from the war. They hadn’t had much use of it since then. After the train went by they were left in hanging silence. The tension began to abate, though worry about Crosshair still hung in the air. Wrecker looked out toward the bridge as if he could see his brother through the darkness if he tried hard enough.

Echo turned toward Meggy, still cowering in the corner of the wagon. Still doing exactly as Hunter instructed, staying put. Her face was lined with horror and her eyes were wet, as she hugged her still shaking legs.

“Hey, hey Meggy. We’re okay.” Echo went to her side. She glanced at him, then looked back toward Hunter and Tech. “Here, uh, come sit up here.” He took her elbow. The poor girl looked shell-shocked as if she were the one who’d been through a war. She took his offer to get up off the floor and sit on a crate with him, still shivering.

Crosshair halted Havoc, still on the bridge. He could already hear the hoofbeats of his pursuers pounding on the wooden struts. He deftly uncaulked his rifle and stowed it in the saddle as he slid off. Walking several paces toward the enemy, he raised his hands toward the stars above.

The gang got on their way again. “The closer we are to Blackwater, the safer we’ll be.” Tech assured, steering Murray to ford a shallow creek, letting the loyal beast take a long drink of water before continuing on.

“Why’s that?” Hunter croaked, taking another swig of whisky while trying to get comfortable against a sideways barrel close to Meggy’s seat.

“A few weeks ago the Van der Linde gang were here, and… left quite the mess.” Tech snapped the reins and Murray continued at a walk. “The gang robbed the Blackwater ferry. $150,000, according to the paper.” He added.

Wrecker whistled in amazement. “That’s a lot of cash…”

“It was a bloody affair, the Pinkertons got involved.”

“We should probably stay far enough away from the town if there are feds about, not to mention in case Meg–, I mean our wanted posters have made it out here.” Echo pointed out, casting a glance at Meggy beside him, still as a statue with Echo’s jacket draped over her shoulders. Hunter looking at her with concern, despite being the only one bleeding.

“Meggy, are you okay?” Hunter put the bottle to the side and reached out to her, wincing as the motion tugged painfully.

“She’s not hurt...” Echo pondered. “I think she’s scared, but she hasn’t said anything.”

“I’m okay.” Meggy nodded, and a tear ran down her face. She wiped it quickly, hoping no one saw.

Her brothers continued to console her as the wagon continued into the dark.

Arthur, Javier and Lenny rode up on the lone dark-clad outlaw with guns drawn.

“You’re coming with us.” Lenny spat, leveling his pistol.

“I would like to come to an arrangement.” Crosshair called out. “I have… a proposition.”

Lenny and Javier looked at Arthur, who raised his chin in interest. “Let’s talk somewhere we aren’t about to get crushed by a train.” He responded after a beat of consideration. Crosshair spun around and saw the light of an engine appearing on the other end of the bridge, when he turned back around Dutch’s boys were trotting back to solid ground. Crosshair mounted up and followed.

“You sure this is a good idea, Morgan?” Javier chided.

“Let’s hear him out. It’s our only option now.” Arthur cast a glance over his shoulder in the direction of Blackwater.

Between two prairie hills just outside Blackwater, the Bad Batch gang had settled in for the night, huddled against the wagon with a small campfire. Coyotes yapped nearby, and the crickets added to the chorus with their own nighttime song. Meggy laid on her bedroll between Hunter and Wrecker. Tech took the first watch after he untacked Marauder and brushed him. All five of them were silent with worry since the wagon wheels stopped. Every little sound had Tech looking up from what he was doing, hoping it was Crosshair catching up with them. Wrecker took the next watch, then Echo. Meggy and Hunter were allowed to sleep off the ordeal. The night slid by with no sign of their absent brother.

Taglist: @dragonrider9905 @omegafett99 @griffedeloup @happydragon @fionas-frenzy @dizzy-9906

Author's note:

"It didn't hit nothin' important!!" That scene from the Ballad of Buster Scruggs kept playing in my head while I wrote this. I might add some more illustrations to this later, cuz I still have some ideas, but for now I just wanted to get this OUT THERE. I've completed a rough outline of the whole story at this point, and I'm so excited for the stuff at the climax. I have no idea how many chapters this will be but I'm trying to keep each one around 1.5 - 3k words.

I am so grateful for the positive feedback on the first two chapters thank y’all so much! I am certainly not the most experienced writer, and have been kind of hard on myself with this chapter, but had to keep remembering that this is all just for fun and doesn’t have to be perfect.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Yan! Alucard post season 4 with a targaryen reader and has dragons like daenerys from game of thrones or house of the dragon, how would they meet and interact? Would the first meet when the trio see the dragons flying over the village and think it is a threat or a attack, sorry if I'm ranting I just think the idea has so much potential and I can't write to save my life so I'm passing it to you❤️❤️

A/N: Okay so full disclosure, I’m not the hugest Game of Thrones fan, but I did watch a fair amount of the series (mainly for Khalessi lol, they did her so dirty in the finale!). And sorry for being MIA, just lots of real-life crap I’ve been dealing with. 

Yandere Alucard (Post S4) w/ a Targaryen Reader

When our Targaryen reader first hears of a village founded under a famous monster hunter's name, yet supposedly run by the Alucard operated out of Dracula’s castle, she decides she has to see it for herself. 

Much like Trevor Belmont, she is the last of her kind, the bloodline ends with her, and as such, the dragon(s) in her possession are her utmost responsibility. If she cannot find someone worthy of continuing the Targaryen line, then she will have to settle for her family’s legacy existing solely as one more relic in the Belmont hold. Without any remaining relatives to marry to keep her lineage pure, she sets atop her noble dragon steed and sets out for Village Belmont, determined to find a worthy successor, and if not, then at the very least, a worthy grave. 

When she first flies over the village, it is a cloudy day; her dragon’s looming shadow initially goes unnoticed. But soon enough her dragon’s large wingspan wafts the gray skies away, leaving her and her majestic beast very little coverage. 

At first sight of the beast, villagers cry and scream out, as they mistake her dragon companion for yet another wandering night creature, hellbent on eating their children and pillaging their livestock. 

They alert Greta, who arrives on the scene at the same time as Alucard, his heightened vampiric senses having heard the loud thwap, thwap of the dragon’s wingspan long before the villagers could see it. 

Greta organizes her troops to gather their weapons- pitchforks, swords, scythes- those sorts of things and stand ready at the entrance to the castle while at the same time, the less athletically inclined villagers are ushered inside to safety. 

As the Targaryen descends with her dragon, she gives clear instructions not to harm the humans gathered before her, even though the mob before them has their weapons drawn and ready. 

Descending from the sky, our Targaryen reader looks like a goddess, some sort of mythical queen, the elements of both wind and flame at her command. Alucard is immediately drawn to her, her presence, and her power. Although, he is weary of her as well. Too many have come to claim the power vacuum left by his father’s death, and he will not tolerate any vampires or supernatural beings staking a claim on his childhood home, his new village. Even if they are both insanely beautiful and a dragon rider. 

Sypha and Trevor make it outside by the time the young woman dismounts. As she does, she raises her hands in surrender. 

“I am not here to cause anyone harm. I am here to ask a great favor of the keepers of this Village Belmont.”

The trio approaches her, Greta staying behind, her army of villagers at the ready. 

She explains who she is, how special her bloodline is, and how she, the current mother of dragons, is the last of her kind. She speaks mainly to Trevor, as he is the last of the famed Belmonts which angers Alucad greatly, although he doesn't understand why. All he knows is a rather impudent voice inside his head insists that she should be talking to him! Not that stupid Trevor! After all, it’s his castle and his hold, Belmont gifted it to him for safekeeping! 

The young Targaryen asks Trevor if he would accept the privilege and the honor of keeping her dragon eggs safe deep within his hold until the time is right for them to be called upon. Of course, Alucard interrupts, saying that while dragon eggs would certainly be a first for the Belmont hold, he should like to examine them, as well as her and her dragon before making any commitments. 

There’s a tense moment. Behind her, her dragon’s nostrils flare as it heavily breathes out. It seems she doesn't like to be questioned, and neither does her rider. 

Alucard must be careful here. Yes, he’s smart and manipulative as a yandere but we are talking about a Targaryen here. Make no mistake, if he steps out of line enough, or causes her enough harm, he and his whole town will get barbequed. (Despite the threat, this incredible amount of power is one of the things about her Alucard finds the most sexy lol.)

I imagine the group forms a fragile allyship at first. The Targaryen teaches the villagers about her people and dragons. The orphaned children of course fall in love with her dragon, who to their credit, is very patient with them, but also lets them know when to back off with a shake of their large head or a deep growl from within their belly. She wants them to experience some bonding with the creature but she also doesn’t want them to grow too friendly and become complacent when encountering wild beasts outside of the village. Dragons are not to be trifled with, and should they encounter any one of them in the wild they are to react with wisdom, but more importantly fear. 

Alucard, of course, watches all of this very interestingly, in awe of the Targaryen reader's fortitude and dedication to her companion and her role as mother of dragons. In watching her interact with the children, he can’t help but feel a swell of pride, and a longing in his heart loins for her to perhaps bear his children so that they can become keepers of dragons too. 

He can't stop fantasizing about it, how perfect it would be, how incredible she would look housing their combined legacies. Their offspring would be unstoppable. With his vampiric abilities and her draconic bloodline… Not to mention his mother’s medicinal knowledge and Belmont’s collection knowledge within the Hold… By god, they could form an empire! One for creatures and humans alike, all who wish to live in peace and choose knowledge over ignorance. If only his mother and father could see him now…

Alucard knows though he must tread lightly. The Taregryn reader is smart and cunning. She did not come to be the last of her kind by being naive, no. She’s hardened, and she’s been through a great deal. She will need time to adjust to his affections. 

Alucard doesn’t mind though. He has all the time in the world. 

[hyperactively-me]

Heyyy!!! It’s me again, DogHandler!Graves anon 😁😁 just for the heck of it, what if our dear Princess is riding her trusty steed out in the fields close to the forest’s edge. The whole time, she feels eyes on her as if she’s being watched. Right before she is attacked by a wild creature, Graves and his pack of dogs chase the beast away and now they both have to explain to King!Simon what they were doing with each other…. Out where no one could see what was going on? I love drama 😊😊😊😊😊

i really liked this prompt and the whole doghandler!graves character! i had a bit of a hard time conveying my ideas/thoughts for this prompt, and i've tried rewriting it, but this is the best i can do! hopefully you like it 🙏

king!ghost x reader -- forest's edge

You sit atop your majestic horse, her hooves rhythmically pounding against the soft earth beneath. The golden fields stretch out before you, the tall grass a sea of undulating waves, bathed in the warm hues of the sun. You revel in the freedom of the open air, the wind tousling your hair as you ride close to the forest’s edge.

Simon had been reluctant to let you venture too far, his concerns and protests echoing in your ears. He was not keen on the idea of you going out by yourself, especially since the attack, but you were adamant in your request. You reassured him that a simple ride by yourself posed no danger. Besides, you had his knife with you, and the knights and guards were not too far away. “I just need some alone time,” you had said gently. With a tender smile and a promise to return promptly, you convinced him of your safety.

Despite Simon’s initial reservations, you felt an overwhelming sense of liberation. The scent of blooming wildflowers and the earthy aroma of the field filled the air, permeating you with a deep connection to the land you ruled.

This is just what you needed after being cooped up in the palace for the past month and a half. As you ride closer to the forest, the scent of pine mingled with the fragrant wildflowers, invigorating your senses. You finally approach the edge, a canopy of ancient trees looming overhead, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The air grew slightly cooler, and a subtle sense of unease creeps over you. 

You shake off the feeling, trying to push it away, just thinking that it was residual anxiety from being attacked. Still, you can’t help but glance around, unable to shake the feeling that eyes were watching your every move. Undeterred, you urge your horse forward, the clopping of hooves accompanying the rustle of leaves underfoot. The forest’s edge murmurs with the distant call of woodland creatures.

Then, without warning, a chill runs down your spine. A primal instinct warns you of imminent danger, and your breath catches in your throat. Your horse, sensing your unease, snorts and paws at the ground.

A glance around reveals only the stillness of the woods, yet the sensation persists, an unsettling undercurrent in the air. Your hand instinctively tightens around the knife at your waist. The horse beneath you fidgeted, its ears flicking nervously as it senses the shift in atmosphere. Despite your attempts to dismiss the feeling, a quiet voice within you urged caution. The recent attack had left scars that weren’t quite healed. 

With a frustrated huff, you decide to turn around and head back to the castle, hands shaking slightly with adrenaline and fear. Your horse seems eager to move away, its muscles tense beneath you. 

Then, the air itself seemed to hold its breath. A guttural growl echoed through the ambiance, and your heart skips a beat. Your vision goes slightly blurry from fear, hands pulling at the reins of your horse. The wild creature, or another of its kin, emerges from the shadows, eyes narrowed and taking slow steps towards you. Panic tightens your chest as the beast lunges towards your horse, teeth bared in a predatory snarl. A strangled scream rips from your throat, and time seems to slow as the wild creature closes the distance between you and the safety of the open fields. Your horse rears back, and you lean forward to keep your balance in the saddle. 

Before the beast could lay siege on your horse, a chorus of ferocious barks and snarls erupts. Graves appears with his pack of loyal hounds, galloping on his own horse with full speed in your direction. The dogs, trained for moments like these, leap into action, a blur of fur and teeth tearing into the beast. The wild creature, caught off guard by the unexpected counterattack, recoils under their relentless attack. The snarls and growls of the beast counters the disciplined barks of the royal dogs. The pack, fueled by their loyalty and training, forms a barrier between you and the impending threat. Graves swoops in, steering the skirmish away from you, ensuring your safety. 

You back your horse away from the epicenter of the struggle, leading her away whilst you stroke her mane reassuringly, whispering praises in her ear. The dogs finally drive the wild creature back into the shadows of the forest, and you watch it retreat with a defeated growl, disappearing into the depths of the forest. 

Breathing heavily, you watch as Graves and his pack secure the perimeter, ensuring that the danger has passed. The royal dogs, panting but triumphant, return to Graves’ side, their loyalty unwavering. Graves approaches you on his steed, concern etched on his face. 

“Your Majesty, are you alright? Are you hurt?” Graves asks, his eyes scanning you for any signs of injury, his voice calm yet carrying an unsettling edge.

You shake your head, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. “No, no, I’m fine.” 

You look at him, a surge of exasperation and frustration now washing over you. “I really don’t know how I keep finding myself in these situations,” you laugh humorlessly. 

Graves offers you a reassuring look, his gaze locked onto you. “It’s the unpredictability of the wild, your majesty. A one-off occurrence, I’m sure.” 

You sigh, guiding your horse farther away from the forest. The dogs circle around your feet, as if pushing you back home. 

“I’m going to escort you back to the castle now,” Graves says, leading his horse closer to yours. The royal dogs fall in line, swarming around the feet of Graves. 

“Thank you for chasing the creature away,” you say quietly, eyes fixed on the grass ahead of you. 

Graves leans close over his saddle, as if trying to get a little closer to you. “It’s always my pleasure to serve, especially when it involves ensuring the safety of such a... precious ruler. And besides, it’s what the dogs are trained to do.” 

You can’t help but feel grateful for the distance between you and Graves right now, as the last time you met him he was a bit too friendly with you. Although, he had now just saved your life. Oh god, what was Simon going to think? 

“We don’t have to tell—”

“I must.” 

You’re silent. You roll the thought over in your head once more. 

You sigh, realizing that Graves is right. “You're right. It’s just... Ghost has been worried enough, and I don’t want to add to his concerns.”

“Worried or not, your safety is of utmost importance. The King wouldn’t want his wife to be hurt under the watch of a member of the guard? It’s my duty to report these kinds of ordeals.” 

You glance at him, and his gaze is intense, almost unnerving. You tighten your grip on the reins, just desperately wanting to arrive home quicker, all thoughts of having a little bit of alone time vanishing. You’re grateful he stepped in; after all, he did save your life, but you don’t really want that to be held over your head. 

As you ride alongside Graves and the loyal pack of dogs, the journey back is quieter than before. The golden fields seem less inviting, and the forest holds an air of caution. The sun dips lower on the horizon, casting long shadows that stretch across the landscape.

Simon is going to lose his shit. 

. . .

The moment you both arrive at the castle, some stablehands take care of your horses. Immediately, you and Graves are off to Simon’s study to report what happened in the fields. You walk slowly on purpose, trying to delay the inevitable of Simon potentially blowing a fuse. 

You happen to catch Soap’s eyes as you make your way down the hall. He flashes you a look of confusion, motioning to Graves beside you. You shrug, indicating that you’ll explain later. Soap pauses for a moment as if deciding whether or not to intervene, but he nods in understanding as you flash him a reassuring look and continues on his way.

The study door looms ahead, and you exchange a fleeting glance with Graves. His expression is unreadable, but you can sense a trace of tension. Taking a deep breath, you knock twice on the mahogany doors of Simon’s study, gently, as if already trying to calm his impending anger. Graves adjusts his clothes, tugging at his collar. 

The low timber of his voice rumbles through the door, Come in. 

Simon, in all his regal attire, stands up the moment you both enter. His eyes narrow at the sight of you accompanied by Graves. He sighs, moving from behind his desk to stand in front of you both. 

“What happened?” Simon’s voice is stern, his worry evident beneath the hard surface.

Graves steps forward, his posture rigid yet composed, and begins recounting the encounter in the forest. Simon listens attentively, his face growing darker with each passing moment.

“It was an unexpected threat, but the dogs managed the creature. Her majesty is unharmed. I made sure of it.”

When Graves finishes his report, a heavy silence descends upon the room. Simon’s gaze shifts from Graves to you, his jaw clenched as the concern deepens in his gaze. The air is thick with tension, and you brace yourself for the storm. 

“Is this true? Are you unharmed?” he asks, his voice hard.

You nod, giving him a reassuring look. “Yes, Simon. Graves and the dogs intervened in time. I’m fine.”

He nods, taking a moment to collect himself before speaking. He shifts his attention back to Graves, clearing his throat. 

“I appreciate your, uh quick judgment, Graves. Thank you for ensuring the safety of my wife.”

Graves has a smug expression on his face, knowing that Simon has no other choice than to be grateful that he stepped in. Deep down, you knew Graves was only this giddy because Simon couldn’t be upset with him, and if it were any other situation, Simon would’ve reprimanded him.

You think that’s the end of that, but Simon continues speaking. 

“However, I can’t help but wonder why she was with you alone in the first place, especially after what happened a few months ago.”

Graves clears his throat, seemingly caught off guard by the directness of Simon’s scrutiny. You shift uncomfortably, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. Simon’s gaze is still dead set on Graves. Graves begins to explain, carefully choosing his words.

“Your majesty, I was merely nearby with the dogs. I just happened to be training them, as the royal dog handler does. I spotted her majesty quite a while away, and alone, so I felt the obligation to ensure her safety. I couldn’t stand by and let harm come to her.”

Simon's eyes narrow, skepticism etched on his face. “Training the dogs, you say? Alone near the forest? Graves, you know the queen's safety is a top priority, but it seems you went beyond your duties. I thought I made myself clear.”

Graves scoffs, and you immediately tense beside him. “Would you rather me watch the queen be attacked and possibly killed?”

Simon’s jaw ticks, and even he knows that he’s being slightly unreasonable. He can’t exactly be mad at Graves. How silly would it be, being mad that he potentially saved the life of the queen? His stern expression deepens, and for a moment, it feels as if the air in the room has thickened. The tension between the king and Graves could be cut by a knife. Simon takes a step closer, his gaze unwavering.

“Okay, um, listen,” you begin, and both men turn to look at you with expectant eyes. Your voice breaks the silence that had settled in the room, and their eyes bore into you. 

“I appreciate Graves’ quick response, Simon, really, I do. Things could’ve gone really bad if he wasn’t there. But, I’m also not sorry for wanting to have alone time. And before you can tell me that it was a bad idea to begin with, I am honestly willing to take that risk again. I understand that there’s always going to be risks of going alone, but at the end of the day, I need those moments for myself. I can’t be confined to the palace all the time because of fear. I trust myself to be cautious. This incident doesn’t change that, and I will not let fear dictate my every move.”

Simon’s gaze softens as he listens to your impassioned plea, but the furrow in his brow remains. Graves remains silent, a tense expression still etched on his face. Simon opens his mouth as if to say something, but he shuts it instead, saving the thought until after Graves leaves. 

“Again, I appreciate your dedication to the safety of the queen, Graves, but there are protocols for a reason,” Simon responds, his tone measured but firm. 

Graves remains composed, though a flicker of irritation shows in his expression. “Your majesty, I understand the concerns. I assure you, it was a matter of coincidence that I was in the vicinity. The safety of the queen is of chief importance to me and the rest of the kingdom.”

“Right. Of course. Thank you. But know, I won't tolerate any deviation that compromises my wife’s well-being,” Simon asserts, his eyes narrowing at Graves.

You pick at your fingernails absentmindedly, trying to ignore the way they’re talking about you as  if you weren’t standing right there. 

Graves nods stiffly, a curt acknowledgment of the king’s directive. “Understood, your majesty. My only concern was with the queen’s safety.” 

With a final, scrutinizing look, Simon dismisses Graves from the study. 

“Thank you again for your timely response. We’ll discuss this further later. I need a moment alone with my wife.”

Graves bows slightly and leaves, flashing you a look, the tension lingering in the air even after the door closes behind him.

Simon turns his attention back to you, his expression softening as he crosses the room to stand in front of you. There’s a mixture of relief and worry in his eyes.

“Are you really alright?” he asks, his voice gentle now.

You nod, grateful for the chance to speak with Simon alone. “Yes, Simon, I’m fine, I swear. Graves got there in time, and besides, it was really the dogs that handled the situation. I’m completely unharmed.”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I worry about you,” he admits, his voice softer now. “I can't help but worry, especially after what happened before. With Graves, and with the attack.” 

You approach him, running your hand up and down his arm soothingly. 

“And it was just you and Graves?”

You wince at that, registering his pointed look. “Yes, it was. But he didn’t do anything. I would’ve told you the moment I saw you if he did.” 

He grumbles quietly, pacing back and forth a few times before stopping and turning to you. 

“It’s time you should have a personal knight. I should’ve done this months ago.”  

You raise an eyebrow at Simon’s suggestion. “A personal knight? Really? I appreciate the concern, but isn’t that a bit excessive?”

Simon looks at you with a stern expression. “After what just happened, I think it’s necessary. I can’t have you wandering off alone, especially after the attack and now this. We need to take extra precautions.” 

You sigh, realizing that arguing with Simon on this matter might be futile. “Fine, if it makes you feel better, but I don’t want a knight glued to my side every moment. Only when deemed absolutely necessary, from the both of us. And only when I’m outside the castle walls. Is that alright with you?” You question, standing your ground whilst stating your boundaries. 

Simon nods in agreement with your boundaries. “It will only be necessary when you’re outside of the castle walls, alone. Of course, they’ll keep a respectful distance according to your desires, but they will still be there.”

“Okay, but, I don't want to feel like I’m under constant surveillance. I feel like it could get stifling real fast, Si.” 

Simon sighs, understanding that finding the right balance is crucial. He comes closer and takes your hands in his.

“I understand, love. We’ll find a way to make this work without making you feel suffocated. I don’t want you to feel like you’re losing your freedom, but I also want you to see this situation from my perspective,” Simon reassures you.

You give him a small smile, appreciating his willingness to compromise, being the stubborn man he usually is. “Thank you, Simon. I know you’re just worried, and I appreciate that. We can figure this out together.” 

Simon looks down at you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. He takes a breath. 

“I know you’re strong, and I respect that. It’s just that... time and time again, there’s always something happening that involves your wellbeing, and it’s… it’s difficult to deal with.” 

You nod, knowing full well that he’s trying not to relive his past. He lost his whole family, blaming himself for their untimely deaths. He wouldn’t make that same mistake again. 

You lean in, pressing up onto your toes to place a gentle kiss on Simon’s cheek. “I completely understand, Simon. We’re a team. I promise to be cautious, but I also need moments to myself. It doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for you thoughtfulness and protection; it’s just about finding a balance and trust.” 

Simon looks at you with gratitude, his eyes reflecting a mixture of love and concern. “I trust you with every fiber of my being. I just want you safe, and sometimes my worries get the best of me. Just… promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” you assure him, leaning in for a gentle kiss.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[skyloftian-nutcase]

"Okay," Zelda said, smacking her fist into her palm. "This one is going to be it."

Silently, her companion added a scratch mark to some parchment he'd been carrying.

Zelda glanced at him, eyes narrowing. "Are you keeping tabs?"

"Only when you say this one is going to be it or some variation of it," Link replied smoothly.

Zelda huffed, ready to argue, when out of curiosity she asked, "Where are we at?"

"Eight."

"Ha! I expected more! This is good, then."

Link sighed. "What's the story with this one?"

"Hear me out," Zelda started excitedly, spreading her hands like she was opening a large book. "A thousand years ago our land was encased in shadow."

Link stopped his horse, staring at her. "Is this another one of Beedle's stories? The last one nearly got us killed."

"No, no, no!" Zelda grumbled, rolling her eyes. "This one is from my family. History may have turned to hearsay and legend for the common folk of Hyrule, but it's sacred to my family. This one actually happened!"

Link raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but urged his steed to start moving nonetheless.

"So," Zelda continued. "A thousand years ago, shadows came to our land and cursed our people. My ancestor joined up with royalty from a distant land and together, they summoned the Hero of Light, who destroyed the shadows. That very Hero lived in the village we're going to!"

Link had to admit... he was still dubious, but he was a little curious. "An actual Hero? There's relics of one of the acutal Heroes? What royalty from a distant land? The only neighboring land I know of fell to ruin a hundred years ago."

"I don't know where it was, honestly," Zelda answered sincerely. "They were always really vague about it and I don't know why. But apparently the person died, so they honored her sacrifice."

Link hummed, tossing his braid back over his shoulder. After going through multiple villages, towns, and even a city, the fact that they were going somewhere that might have housed an actual Hero at some point in history was almost promising. Perhaps Zelda would find who she was looking for and Link could return to his quiet home and avoid all this mess.

It seemed too good to be true, though. Heroes were relegated to myths. The only reason he knew those myths were real was because of his parents. But still... they were ancient.

Surely no such catastrophe could strike the land now. The princess was just naive, right?

"Ah! We're here!" Zelda announced happily, bringing her horse's steady stroll to an end. Link watched her climb off before following suit.

"Where is here?" he asked as they passed a spring.

"Ordon Village," the princess replied, popping her hands on her hips and smiling with pride.

Link stood there beside her, staring a moment and sniffing tentatively. "It smells like manure."

Zelda scrunched her nose. "It does not! What if that smell is something else entirely?"

"It's definitely manure, Highness."

"Well your town smelled like it too!"

"My town is a trading hub!"

"I can't even smell any--" Zelda stopped in mid-sentence as the wind changed directions, scrunching her nose. "Oh."

Link turned to her, now completely affronted. "What did you smell before that made you think of my town?"

Zelda waived a dismissive hand. "Doesn't matter - we have to find the Hero!"

Link sighed, following the princess into the village. "Your Highness, your story is from a thousand years ago. That Hero is long gone."

"Of course he is," Zelda replied with a roll of her eyes. "But there's word of someone named Link who lives here!"

One royal pronouncement and excited welcome later, the pair found themselves standin gover a crib.

"Well," Link quipped. "I suppose he could cry the enemy to death."

Zelda's sour look was response enough.

"Is there a Rattle that Seals the Darkness?"

"Just shut up."

The princess could only be upset for so long before she started cooing at the baby and laughing as the little bundle giggled in reply. Even Link had to smile fondly at it. The two congratulated the happy couple and gave them their well wishes before dining with the village and setting out once more.

"I think your story was a bit off," Link remarked as they walked their horses to the edge of the village.

"Just because the lead was false doesn't mean that a Hero didn't once live here," the princess said a little stiffly. "My family's history speaks of it."

He didn't argue. His own father spoke often of the royal family's role in helping Hyrule remember its history. He just... well, he had to admit he was a little disappointed. While he wasn't nearly as excited by history as his father, the promise of seeing traces of the Hero had been simultaneously intriguing and unnerving.

Either way, it was back to the road for them.

The masseur paused as the princess continued, glancing over at the spring as something sparkly caught his eye. Was that... was that a fairy? He hadn't seen one of those since he was a child, and that had only been once! Distracted, he hovered back a hair as Zelda plodded ahead, but the princess noticed his stillness.

"What is it?" she asked, coming back to him, before she saw it too. With an excited gasp, she rushed ahead, and Link tripped over himself to follow her.

The fairy flitted away quickly, but the pair stopped nonetheless.

They were back at the spring, but behind the waterfalls that fed into it, they could make out a small engraving. The two slinked around the edge of the spring (Link nearly face planted on the smooth, slick stone) until they managed to get behind the roaring water. Link shivered as they both got soaked in the misty spray, but the princess seemed completely unbothered.

Zelda's hand snaked around his upper arm, eyes fixed on a point, and she whispered, "It's him."

Link was about to question what she meant, wondering how a stone could mean anything, when he squinted at engraved words that were below a half worn symbol of the Triforce.

-ink

-elove- --ther and husba--

H-ro of L--t & Sh-d-w

"There's no grave here," Link noted softly.

"A monument to him, then," Zelda noted, though a little confusedly. "Why wouldn't they bury him here, or somewhere with honor?"

Link stared at the stone, eyes trailing down to see fresh flowers placed there. The villagers know and didn't tell the princess. A soft smile pulled at his lips. "He comes from a pretty humble place. I think... I think he wanted to keep it that way."

The princess hummed, still perplexed but trying to understand. Eventually, though, she knelt, folding her hands in prayer. Link sank to his knees, sitting on his legs rather than kneeling, eyes looking beyond the words half lost to time. He thought of the history behind his name, and behind his people, and he wished for a moment that he could claim to be part of such a heroic lineage. If the Heroes of Hyrule were truly like this...

He sighed, closing his eyes and bowing his head in honor.

[bonemarrowrites]

To Rule The Roost

Contains:  M / M, Feral/monster x humanoid, dubcon, masturbation, voyeurism, fisting, bound, oviposition.

Explicit short story. A young fae wants to become a Gryphon rider, finding himself hired by a veteran flight master.

-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-=x=-

“Never expected to see an ash fae here. You’re kind rarely wanders away from your home isle. Yet, here you are, applying to be the gryphon aide under me. You do realize what that job entails, right?” Asked the flight master Trall as I sprouted back into the present, hearing griffins screeches outside the tall building had distracted me from the conversation.

Trall’s bulky human frame made his belly look like a large sack of flour as he sat on his chair and went through my papers. The Gryphon riders' colorful attire complimented his dark skin and made him look formal.

“Yes,” I answered and nodded enthusiastically to drive my point home, “I’ve always wanted to be a rider and someone told me this is a great way to learn the basics, before applying to the academy.” Before coming here, I had memorized a long list of useful lies to make myself the perfect candidate.

“I see…” Trall muttered back to me with a curious expression on his plump face. 

“Skinny boys like you can’t withstand the wind,” he blurted like he was trying to see my reaction.

“I don’t need to withstand it, I’m delicate enough to go through the wind wall without feeling a thing,” I rebutted, attempting to sound confident. My answer made the flight master snort, but he still looked unsure.

“Why not just go straight to the academy? They teach all you need to know and without. Assigning here might look good on your application, but it will only prolong your graduation if you’re even worth the effort. Taking the exam is the best way to get it,”  Trall’s tone sounded dismissive like he was talking to a young child who didn’t know any better. He didn't know I had taken the exam, thrice, and had failed each time. I knew I could cheat when I took it the next time, but I had to make sure my record showed that I had been somewhere where I might have learned the ropes. This was my only chance.

I composed myself, before telling him another one of my lies, “I believe if I want to be good at something I should learn as much as I can from those who actually work in the field. Teachers at the academy might teach me theory, but the real learning happens here.”

“You’re not going to learn how to fly without the academy’s approval,” Trall declared as if I didn’t already know that.

“I know, but I’m going to do other work, right? The Gryphon riders must also know how to take care of their steed.” The flight master's unwillingness had surprised me. The amount of promised payment had been significant, especially considering how little experience was required, but I was sure his aides' job wasn’t too hard to handle. After all, I had gotten this far, my letter must have made some sort of impression. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have wanted to see me and made me go through an extensive healer’s inspection.”

“I see,” he muttered again, giving one last glance at my papers. “You’ve been an adult for three summers now and your letter was very passionate, consider yourself hired.” The flight master stood up and held his hand out to shake mine. Quickly, I gave him a firm handshake and looked directly into his deep brown eyes.

“Thank you, sire. I’ll make sure you will not regret this!” I stated. The flight master slightly lift his right brown. My enthusiasm must have been a little bit too much. Yet, I actually was ecstatic. The second part of my plan had worked and I was on my way to becoming a Gryphon rider!

Trall waved his hand .“Follow me, better get to work now than later. The last aide’s death has delayed our annual schedule and we’re in a hurry.”

I did not know that. The poster I saw never mentioned why they needed help, only that it was urgent.

“W-what happened to the last aid?” I asked with a concern in my voice.

“One of the griffins kicked him down from the flight pen. He had forgotten to change his clothes after tending another tiercel. They’re very territorial, you can’t put two males together without them getting aggressive with each other. Skilled riders must be dominant and assertive when flying in formations, we can’t have fights within the group.” Trall’s explanation sounded reasonable to me. I made sure to remember that.

As we ascended the long flight of stairs, I took in the view. Even though we were in the mountains, the air here was hot. The warm desert wind blew right into the mountainside and the sun scorched the black rock paving it, making the air dry and sweltering. Had we stayed in the open a little bit longer, I’d surely been burned. My light grey skin was not meant to be under the sun.

“The health of these beasts is very important to me and it is your job to help me keep them healthy and happy. You could say your job is almost as important as mine.” Trall glanced behind as he said it and waited for my reaction.

“As it is to me, sire! A healthy force is a strong force,” I said smiling and the flight master shot a small smile back at me. I was getting through to him.

Trall led me into one of the keep’s many spires and to a wide, round room.

There was a large opening on the wall, which was decorated with a carved stone arch with a small bell hung next to it. It was meant for the griffons, they’d fly in one by one when the bell rang for… Some reason. I honestly didn’t know why.

Various tools were hanging on the wall and there was a chair placed next to them. In the middle of the large room, there was also a tall sawhorse with a simple, but weirdly shaped, saddle with a long seat. It was facing away from the opening of the room. Long leather straps dangled from the saddle as the warm breeze made them sway slowly.

“I want you to clean and polish that saddle,” the flight master commanded, “Taking care of it is a significant part of your job.”

As Trall sat on the chair I grabbed a few items from the wall and climbed the sawhorse to reach the saddle. With a clean rag, I began to wipe the saddle. My mother used to be a well-known leatherworker and she took me with her when she worked in her workshop. The skills I learned had become handy.

Trall watched me work from behind, leaning into the backrest as I focused on my work. Secretly, I tried to take a peek to see, if he was pleased with my performance and I saw him rub his crotch with his hand.

My cheeks flashed red and in my shock, I turned away acting like I hadn’t seen anything, still talking about how important each step was when it came to working with good leather. I heard him mumble in agreement and out of my curiosity took another peek.

The flight master’s clothed member was getting hard and he let out quiet moans while caressing his balls with his other hand. Unsure where he was looking I saw him lick his fat lips in arousal. I began my next step when I heard him get up and walk towards me.

“You’re very good,” Trall said and put his other hand on my shoulder. I was too embarrassed to turn to look at him, “It usually takes a long time for aides to learn the proper leather care.” With me standing leaning on the sawhorse, we were about the same length. I could hear him still rubbing himself as he stood behind me.

“That’s good. Hand me the tools and climb on top. You need to learn how to sit properly.” The flight master said and I handed him the items I had in my hands without looking at him. I mounted the saddle and was now slightly higher than him, feeling kinda relieved that he could reach me. Trall returned each tool to its rightful place and walked back to face me. He had stopped pleasuring himself and took one of the leather straps into his hands. Through his pants, I could see still his half-erect member.

“Lean forward,” he commanded and I did as he said, fearing what he might do to me.

Quickly, he pulled the strap over my head and buckled it tightly around my neck.

“Sire! What is this?” I yelped alarmed.

“I’m showing you the ropes. Your job is to tend my beasts and the only way to learn it is by doing.”

The flight master walked around me, tying me firmly to the sawhorse as I tried to resist. 

“Please, let me go! I will take care of the griffons, I swear! I will do my job!” my pleads fell on deaf ears, as Trall’s straight face turned to a smirk.

“My boy, that you will. This is the job,” he replied and patted me to make sure every strap was holding me down. The flight master then tore my clothes off with a knife, leaving me prone. I was bent over the saddle seat, legs wide apart.

“I knew immediately you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when I met you, but as I said, our situation here is urgent and you were so ardent about this job.” with glee in his voice he added, “... And the best part is, according to your health report, you’re perfect for the job.”

I struggled against my bonds, the saddle seat rubbed against my naked shaft and nipples, slick from the musky polish I had applied mere moments ago. The leather felt slightly coarse and every move made me grind against it. Struggling made me pant from the heat and sweat ran down my back. I was fatigued, and as I stopped, realized that if I didn’t move too much, my posture felt rather good. The seat was long enough to support me without putting strain on my body.

The flight master had retrieved more tools from the wall.

“This will be much easier if you relax, but I warn you, the first time is always the worst,” he snarked and walked behind me, before I could ask any questions he slathered my hole with thick oil and pushed three fingers inside of me. I yelped in surprise and thrust forward, my body stroked my nipples and cock against the coarse surface of the seat making them hard. Trall stretched my hole wider and wider, adding more fingers each time he assaulted me and each time I thrusted forward involuntarily, stimulating my body even more. My cries turned into whimpers.

“The beasts won’t be as careful as I am, you need to learn to loosen up quickly, otherwise it will be painful,” The flight master attested. Soon he managed to push his whole fist into me, making my hole wider than ever before. While vigorously moving his fist, ramming it against the end of my tunnel, Trall began to pleasure himself again.

I sucked in a breath as the constant strain on my cock made me shoot cum between my body and the saddle. The flight master seemed pleased and pulled his fist out, leaving my gaping hole open. He walked towards the stone arch and rang the bell.

“You better get ready, your true test is just about to begin,” Trall laughed and walked back to sit on his chair. He dropped his pants, pulled his cock out and kept massaging his balls as a sudden whoosh of wind flew over me. I heard a loud screech and turned to look. 

There it was. A large male griffin, folding its huge wings as it stomped toward me, looking curiously at its new servant. Long talons scratched the wooden floor with each long step. The oil Trall spread on my ass must have had something in it, the griffon’s large phallus flopped out of its pouch when it sniffed me. The cone-shaped thing almost touched the floor, already glistening with wetness. The beast shrieked loudly as it lifted its feline front paws on the sides of the sawhorse. The griffon bit my neck with its beak, the thick leather strap around my neck protected me from the damage, but the clutch made breathing harder.

“Oh, and don’t worry!” I heard Trall’s voice from across the room, “They might have feline legs, but their cocks are not barbed”

I whimpered as the creature began brutally pumping its member between my cheeks. The saddle was crafted so it slightly lifted my lower body up, it was meant to make anyone laying on it easier to enter, but the beast trying to mount me kept rubbing its cock on me. I whimpered beneath the monster as Trall watched my attempted breeding with exhilaration.

The tip of the griffin’s rod hit my entrance making me gasp in surprise. The next thrust missed it until finally, it impaled me deep within, the whole length of it disappeared in me until its knot pressured my opening. My tied body rose slightly as the shaft made my belly bulge from its girth. I screamed loudly until the beast bit my neck harder, making my voice fade.

Griffin re-adjusted its back paws before it pulled out and hilted its cock back in within me. The sawhorse below us tilted back and forth with each push. The agitation stimulated my whole body, building pleasure inside of me. Like a rutting animal, the monster showed no mercy towards my abused body. I spasmed from the frantic pumping, bending my tied legs as much as I could, making them numb. My opening milked the beast's shaft as its engorged balls smacked against my thighs.

The flight master admired the scene in front of him, pleasing himself while he watched me being broken in. His balls twitched as his throbbing cock shot string after string of white cum into the air. His chest heaved from the bliss, making his whole fat body shake. As he regained control over his body, he walked to me, his limp rod hanging free.

My mind had blanked as I limply laid beneath the monster, moving like a ragdoll on a string, when the beast drilled deep into me. With one last forceful thrust, it secured itself inside of me and let out a loud roar. The flight master laughed and cupped my face into his hand.

“Now you get to experience the best part,” he said, puzzling me with his words momentarily, “The Males of this breed carry eggs to be fertilized by the females. He’s going to fill you up.”

My eyes widened as I felt the first bulbous shape pressing against my hole. As it passed through, a scorching sensation filled me when the egg was pushed deep within my gut, assisted by flowing hot goo. Another one entered me, making my eyes roll back from the pleasure. I teared up when the beast kept me tightly in its grasp, laying eggs into me one by one. My bulging belly expanded pushing me further away from the saddle, only stopped by the leather straps holding my body down. 

Trall pushed his face against mine and forced his tongue in. Kissing me passionately. 

The griffin must have put at least six eggs inside me, before pulling out, the tip still leaking goo. Satisfied, it flew away, leaving me alone with Trall. I was tired as he carefully removed my bindings and lifted me from the saddle to the floor.

“Don’t worry, my boy” he said, there was care in his voice, “We will take them out after you’ve rested and then sell them to another breeder. You’ve done good.” Trall gently petted my enlarged belly, holding me in his arms, “Tomorrow, you know what to expect and will be prepared for the next breeding,” he whispered tenderly. 

I thought about the academy and about my dream of becoming a Gryphon rider. Now, I had another goal.

I couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

[itbmojojoejo]

Indelicate Tenderness | Sihtric x Reader

Pairing: Sihtric x Ealdorman's Wife!Reader

Summary: Your marriage to a much older Ealdorman was a political move and the inability to produce an heir in the traditional manner leads to your husband suggesting you look to another man for assistance. The rules? He must be the right sort, keep emotions out of it, and no one can learn of the affair so that he can claim the child as his own.

Wordcount: 5.7k | Other works.

Warnings: MDNI18+ Content. No use of y/n. Talks of having a child, Infidelity, Unprotected PinV(I will not write about medieval contraception methods.) If I have missed anything please let me know!

Authors Note: A certain book/film has given me brain rot and I've decided to make it everyone's problem by spinning it into this mess. Enjoy. HUGE THANK YOU TO @arcielee FOR BETA READING THIS AND OFFERING HER WISDOM AND FIXING MY AWFUL PUNCTUATION XO

Straightening the muscles in his back, Sihtric effortlessly instructed his horse to ease from a trot to a slow walk as he, Finan, and the band of men they had been ordered to bring to a struggling estate owned by the ageing Lord Eadwold approached the large oak gates on the edge of the walled property. 

Dismounting in the courtyard, he took in the mixture of stone and wooden buildings while guiding his steed to the stables as directed by a household guard and the group were met by Eadwold. The Lord’s hair was starting to grey and thin in places, with almost translucent papery thin skin that was beginning to sag under his light eyes. Sihtric imagined he was the type of man who had not shied away from battle in his younger years, but now a strong gust of wind could be all it took to knock him off his feet. 

“How were the roads, gentlemen?”  The old man greeted them croakily. 

“Very quiet, lord.” Finan offered with a polite smile. 

“Ah, I doubt a ruckus would bother you fellows too much.”

Sihtric willed his face to remain as neutral as he could listening to the old man ramble on about the raids ravishing the borders of his lands and how the men of his guard and fyrds could do with some decent training, but as he removed his packs from the horse he felt eyes on him. 

What was supposed to be a quick glance, expecting only to find a curious servant sneaking a peek at the strangers in their home, he found you. Lingering on the edge of the stables with curious eyes, the sun glowing in your hair and glinting off the ornate pendants hanging from different chains around your neck and rings adorning your delicate fingers. 

“Ah! There you are, my dear. Look at what the Lord Uhtred has sent our way, as promised by the king!” Eadwold’s smile met his crinkling eyes. 

With the sentiment of dear spoken Sihtric thought you may have been a daughter, or another relative due to the blatant difference in age. You were one of the prettiest women he had seen in these lands, he thought it a crime that you would be kept inside the walls of a distant estate far away from anyone to admire your beauty. 

“This is my lady wife,” Eadwold gestured for you to come closer with his proud-like introduction and Finan shot a quick side glance to Sihtric, they had heard that the Lord’s wife was younger but they were still surprised, “Off on another one of your walks?” 

All the mens eyes darted to the muddied leather boots just visible at the elegantly embroidered hem of your dress, belted at the waist with a sheathed dagger, its hilt intricately decorated. A fine little weapon for a fine woman, Sihtric mused. 

“Yes, I think I need the air.” You laughed lightly, but Sihtric caught the way your smile fell from your lips all too quickly to be genuine.  

“Perhaps you could show the men down to the lodgings in the woods?” Just as you opened your mouth to respond to your husband, he cut you off, turning back to look at Finan, “Wonderful stonework left behind by those clever Romans, I think it will suit your needs.” 

Your hand reached out and gently touched Eadwold’s arm covered by rich blue robes to divert his attention back to you. “My Lord, perhaps the men would like to be fed? Given some ale too, possibly? I imagine they have had a long journey.” 

“That would be delightful, lady.” Finan enthused, the promise of ale was always enough to make him forget a sore arse from travelling. 

“I shall have Osgar show you the way after you are rested, then.” Eadwold nodded to the two men then looked expectantly at his young wife, 

“Lord, gentlemen.” You half bowed and took your leave. 

Where is your escort? Does he really let something as lovely as you wander freely? Sihtric’s inner thoughts spun as he watched your graceful steps carrying you off, but then you glanced back and he was unable to look away. 

The reason for your walk that afternoon wasn’t just for physical air, but an attempt at clearing the tangled thoughts in your head. You had been cooped up inside that hall for such a long time now it felt as though you were being slowly suffocated with a strange sense of loneliness, surrounded by people yet feeling the most alone you ever had. 

It’s not that your husband was cruel, although it certainly felt that way sometimes with his dismissive comments and not allowing you to take leave so you may visit with your family. He had his rule of you always having to stay close and watch over him playing Lord of his lands, but in reality you were merely a decorative possession.

A pretty young woman gifted to him by another ealdorman to bolster the wealth his lands needed as well as a son so that he might have an heir, but therein laid the issue, as your husband was an older man who had some difficulties when it came to marital duties.

Your husband had his fears and worries, he knew that it would not be a traditional marriage with his ailment, as he referred to it, but for all appearances people must believe it to be so. With the pair of you coming to terms with what your marriage was, a sort of trust was built where you could share your thoughts openly with one another, an attempt at companionship and a life lived together.

A discussion that Eadwold had begun over a game of Tafl had taken you aback, 

“Perhaps there is another way you can give me a son.” He rasped, twisting one of the Muscovites between his fingers. 

“Another way?”

“Yes, I am certain a man would not say no if you were to...” Eadwold said, gesturing his hand towards your body with a sway to his shoulders.

“Offer myself up like a piece of meat?” You laughed at his audacious suggestion. 

“Aren’t we all just sacks of meat?” He questioned, probably imagining himself to be wise, “We wouldn’t be the first to raise a bastard.”

Even with freedoms most Lady’s were not given and permission to have an affair for the sake of a son you had an air of sadness around you, one that would linger in your wake for others to see but your husband remained blind to it. By ignorance or choice you did not know, and as the days turned into weeks you came to the conclusion that motherhood would at least give you a sense of purpose, something to pour your unspent love into. 

You still had a sense of unease at the entire suggestion, the shame that would befall you if it were ever discovered how you came to be with a child. There must have been rumours about you or your husband whispered in corners due to the lack of a shared bedroom and a child, you had been married for long enough that you should have at least had one by now. 

And so as you walked out the large doors of the opulently decorated house you were beginning to despise, into the afternoon sun for a moment's escape, the sound of your husband's raspy droning accompanied by the voice of an Irishman caught your attention near the stables. 

Who your eyes landed on did not belong to the bearded man of Irland, but the quiet man looking as bored as you felt during most conversations with Eadwold, who was removing packs from his horse. He had dark curls shorn to the scalp on one side, with bronze arm bands glimmering against the dark blue short sleeved tunic covering his biceps, and to your surprise a pagan pendant hanging from his neck. 

He had not spoken a single word as you suggested the men be allowed to rest before being escorted to their lodgings, which only fuelled your curiosity of who you were to play host to until the lands were able to defend their own borders without the assistance of the other Ealdormen. 

After taking your leave to continue with the walk and risking a peek over your shoulder, you found the unknown pagan still watching, the sun glistening in his hazel eyes, causing you to quickly avert your gaze with a warmth blooming in your cheeks. It felt girlish to have a reaction like that to a stranger, and a heathen at that, but you couldn’t deny that he was handsome. 

Later that evening at supper you asked your husband why he had put the men all the way out in the woods and not allowed them to remain within the walls, there was plenty of space available for them to use in the barracks after all. He admitted he was not trusting of them, 

“Some of them are Danes themselves, I find it hard to believe that they actually fight against their own… but who am I to speak on the simple mind of a heathen, they go where the silver takes them I imagine,” Eadwold mused, swilling his ale tankard. 

“They are here to keep your land safe, you could show a little gratitude.” 

“Those are fine lodgings they’ve been given, as well as food and ale! I would say that’s enough gratitude shown,” he croaked, and you simply picked at the meat on your plate with a sigh. 

Over the next few days you found yourself watching over the training yard from the high walls surrounding the perimeter of the estate. The name of the Dane your eyes always landed on was still unknown to you, and no matter how hard you tried to take in the other people down below practising their sword work, it was him who always held your attention as he guided footwork and techniques.

Every so often his gaze would flicker up and meet your own, and at first you thought yourself to be imagining the slight quirk of his mouth, yet the next time his eyes wandered up he wet his plump bottom lip as a smile grew causing the warmth to hit your cheeks once more. 

In the late afternoon you were found by your husband lacing up the leather boots you kept solely for walking, the luxurious silk slippers you wore for general use discarded to the side.  

“Another walk? All this sun will be doing you no good.”

“The sun has passed its highest point, and I shall keep to the shade.” You huffed pulling the laces tight.

“In the wood?”

“Yes.” You clipped. 

“Oh, well if you must. Uhtred’s men are going to squash a band of raiders, if you pass that way be sure to offer them a prayer.” 

“Of course,” you stood, checking if your dagger was secure.  “Did you need something before I go?” Eadwold stepped closer and spoke in a hushed tone to you, 

“No, but I do wonder if you had thought on a particular issue?”

“I have, lord, but I do have some concerns.” 

“Speak freely, my dear.”

“Are you certain that this is what you would want? I am your wife after all.”

“Well I would not want you to yield yourself to another man completely, and if you were to govern your emotions accordingly this can remain uncomplicated.”

“Uncomplicated.” You scoffed, nothing about any of this was uncomplicated. “And you would not mind which man’s child I bore?” 

“He has to be the right sort, but I do trust your judgement with that, I highly doubt you would let just any man touch you. There is a matter of discretion of course, these lands depend on it.”

These lands, but what of my wellbeing? What if I wish to just spend my days here until you pass on so I may turn myself into the Order? Is what you wanted to say, instead you continued attempting to give him the responses he wanted. 

“Would... would you expect me to tell you who the man was?”

“Best that I do not know.” And he took your warm hand in his bonier, cold grasp. 

“Does an heir really mean this much to you, my lord?”

“It means everything. I know you can do this for us, for our legacy as leaders of lands. You do understand the importance of this, do you not?”

Trying your best to soften the almost pained expression gracing your face and managing a weak smile, your hand slipped from your husbands and youturned on your heel, taking a few deep inhales as you stepped over the threshold out into the warming sun, leaving the outlandish conversation behind you. 

As the birds chirped overhead, skipping along full branches in their song, you toiled over the emotions rolling around inside the depths of a caged heart letting your feet blindly carry you further and further through the trees. Walking through the undergrowth with muted steps, you stumbled upon the stone outbuildings; all was quiet, except the wildlife and nearby stream lightly bubbling over its rocky bed. 

Walking a little further past the group of small houses used by different attendants of the estate, you came to one that stood alone on the edge of willow trees, and beneath your feet myriads of bright wildflowers blanketed the ground. Unsheathing the dagger at your side you crouched and delicately began to cut them away so that you may take them home to decorate your room. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused you to flinch and snap your head towards the noise. 

“Sorry my lady, I did not mean to startle you.” The unnamed Pagan held up his hands with a soft smile, instantly putting you at ease. 

“It’s quite alright, I should be paying more attention to my surroundings,” You responded, awkwardly carrying on with your cutting. 

“Are you... Does your lord husband know you wander this far from the house all alone?” 

“He does, actually.” You huffed at the mention of Eadwold, but you regretted the tone you had used, as it was a simple question from a person who does not know you,  “I, uh, hear you are off to deal with some raiders?”

“We are, lady, I was just going to the stables to meet the others now.” 

“Then I will pray you all return safely.” You stood, eyes flickering over the hammer pendant hanging from his neck and internally cursed, “if that does not offend you, of course.” 

His tongue quickly flicked out wetting his lips before pursing them to crush the small smile playing on his mouth. 

“You can pray as you wish. I can escort you back?” 

There was a distance between the pair of you as you strolled back through the woods, taking in the scent of moss and fauna, occasionally looking over to the man whose eyes always seemed to be averting yours with every glance. 

“I have just realised you are helping my house yet I do not know your name?” You asked, fiddling with the flowers you grasped. 

“I am Sihtric, lady.” He revealed in a smoky tone that had your brows flit up briefly. 

“And the loud Irishman?” 

He chuckled at your comment, stepping over a fallen tree you chose to walk around. 

“Mm, Finan.” 

Two days later, upon the return of the men, Lord Eadwold had agreed to the idea of letting the men feast in the hall with the two of you, as a thank you for all that they were doing. Sat beside him at the top of the table, you phased in and out the conversations around you; there wasn’t anything you could offer to the talks of war and swordsmanship. 

It was as Eadwold was enthusiastically retelling the story of him fighting Britons to Finan, occasionally spilling ale from his tankard as he waved his arms around, that your eyes skirted over to Sihtric. He was smiling at Osgar who sat to his side locked into his own discussion, and you focused on the dark inking that decorated the side of his neck disappearing into his hair. 

Eyes wandering further, you spotted the line work on each of his fingers that held his own ale tankard, what those hands could do you thought, and quickly sipped at your drink, willing your mind silent. Even so, your eyes drifted back to meet his, he gave a simple nod and smile returning to his conversation. 

The following day, you decided to venture back to where you had found the wildflowers, collecting thin twigs of hazel and willow as you went. Making a sizable pile of flowers you settled against the trunk of the willow tree close to the little Roman lodge you had thought remained empty, only to be pulled from the therapeutic process of weaving your flowers by its door opening. 

Having been gifted a couple of days rest by the Lord Eadwold, Sihtric decided he would take some time away from his group to sharpen his sword and seax in the confines of the humble one storey house he had claimed for himself. He liked the little crumbling mosaic pictures that adorned the walls and floor tiles, and he thought it a peaceful place.

As he slid the whetstone down the edge of his blades, the sun was temporarily blotted out by someone passing the window and caught his attention; he paused his movements to focus in on any sounds that might indicate who it was, but none came. 

Carefully placing his sword on the table and sheathing his seax, he made the short distance to the window, sneaking a look with his head tilting to the side, and there you were again. The long branches of willow with their full leaves cascading from the sky around you, casting just enough shade to keep the sun from warming your soft skin too much. 

Three times Sihtric told himself to move away and leave you be, but the first time he made the attempt, your brow had furrowed together in concentration and he felt the urge in his finger tips to smooth the crease away. The second time you had wet your pretty lips and leant closer to your hands, making the chains around your neck swing drawing his attention to the round cut of your dress just exposed your collar bones. 

It was his third attempt that gave him pause for a different reason other than to secretly admire you, wondering if he should interrupt the very clear thought process you were having. Holding out the half completed wreath your fingers nimbly worked on, you held different flowers near it, trying to choose a pattern you didn’t seem entirely happy with. 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling with a low grumble, Sihtric approached the door, making sure to open it with enough force to create sound so as not to startle you by silently appearing at your feet. Rounding the corner he met your gaze, your eyes sparkling and lips parted greeting him with a silvery tone, 

“Sihtric.” 

“Lady, I hope I’m not disturbing you?” He stepped closer as you shook your head at his question. 

“No, I was just, busy hands mean a quiet mind.” You fiddled with the twisted twigs of the wreath in your hands. 

“It looks pretty.” 

“Hmm, I only wished I had some different flowers.” 

This is why you came out here, tell her. He urged himself. 

“There is more on the other side of the stream.” Sihtric gestured to bubbling water that could be heard through the willows. 

“In the tall grasses?” 

“I can show you, if you’d like?” 

Keeping an arms distance between the two of you, Sihtric took you a little further through the willow’s to the edge of the stream where the water flowed slowly and after explaining that the brook wasn’t deep, he took a step down from the bank, only to realise he was wrong. 

The cool waters soaked through his trousers in an instant to just below his knee, slowly turning with his brows raised and lips pressed together to prepare himself for a refusal and telling off that he would even suggest such a thing he was relieved to see you stifling laughter at his misjudgement. 

“Uh, it is shallower near the other houses, lady.” He laughed. 

“This is fine, just give me a moment.” You smiled. 

Watching how you unlaced your boots to reveal bare feet felt like an oddly intimate thing for Sihtric to witness, and he struggled to avert his gaze as you gathered up your dress, holding the fabric up to your now exposed, luscious thighs. 

He swallowed the lump growing in his throat and offered up his hand as you stepped closer to the edge of the bank, your skin felt warm against his and the squeal you let out at the cool water rushing up your legs followed by a hearty laugh that was music to his ears. 

The smile on your face he could tell to be genuine compared to the others he had seen you so bravely try to wear around your husband, and as he hoisted you up into the tall grasses on the other side of the stream you placed a hand on his chest to steady yourself, making you pause and look from your hand to his eyes, followed by your quiet voice, 

“Thank you, Sihtric.” 

Lightly clearing his throat, he stepped aside allowing you to walk into the green grasses littered with an array of purple and yellow flowers, watching your fingers lazily dance atop the greenery under the warm sky. 

It was amongst nature that you sat quietly for a while, gathering up violet tulips and he was close by, leaning back propped up on an elbow watching little beetles clamber over the ground on their unknown journeys, occasionally stealing a look at you.

“May I ask you a question, lady?” He risked breaking your peace, his curiosity winning. 

“You just did.” You smiled at him from under your lashes. “Ask it.” 

“Why do you come all this way? Are you not needed at the house?” 

“That was two.” You had criticised, eyes falling back to your lap, carrying on trimming stems with your dagger. 

He quietly sighed and plucked a blade of grass thinking that he would not get a response from you, until you spoke up again with a slight frown and not looking at him. 

“I am given the freedom to speak my mind, but my voice is not truly heard. I have no say in how that house or these lands are run, my presence is only missed when Eadwold wants advice on a matter he has already decided how to settle.” 

A decoration to talk at, Sihtric thought, then his mind drifted to the thought of you having to survive the old man seeing and touching your nakedness. A painful existence, someone as pretty, no, beautiful as you having to let a wretch paw at you. 

When you were ready to leave the peaceful meadow, he carried your bundle of flowers and clutched your hand helping you back through the stream; he watched your mood change as you readied to make the journey home, like someone had walked through a house blowing out candles as they went. The light has disappeared from her eyes. 

The rare happiness that had swelled in your chest littered with fleeting thoughts of Sihtric had kept you moving through the next few days with ease, only dimming at the dinner table when your replies fell on deaf ears; Eadwold was carrying on his droning as if you had said nothing at all, or changing the topic when you were mid sentence. 

Normally you could swallow it, but this evening as you sat at the table with him and his brother, Eadwig, it came to be too much. 

“Perhaps you should have some of the younger lads trained with swords and shields now, pull in the servants' children too as a backup should you need it.” Eadwig’s equally raspy voice carried over the table. 

“They are just boys, Eadwold,” you commented, not liking the idea one bit. 

“They started much younger than they do now, you should have seen it! What were we? Not even 10 years of age when handed a real sword in place of the wooden things they use now,”  Eadwig added. 

You argued further. “The mothers will have a fright, you cannot.”

“Here comes the dramatics of a woman,” Eadwold griped. 

“Caused by the ridiculous ideals of days long past.” You now fumed. 

Abruptly leaving the table, you hurried through the corridors with no real sense of direction; it wasn’t until you were slipping out of a forgotten gate at the back of the estate with a cloak fastened around you that you realised you had not bothered to change your silk slippers for boots. 

Looping around the perimeter close to the wall so as not to be spotted at this hour, as the deep golden sun hung low above the treetops, your feet carried you to the only peaceful place it could think of, the willow trees. 

Walking with your eyes to the ground, you finally looked up at seeing the familiar wildflowers surrounding you, stopping in your tracks and a breath hitching in your throat. 

“Lady.” Sihtric greeted with his look of surprise matching yours, chips of wood all around him and an axe in hand. 

“What...” You fell silent taking in the sight before you. Three chopped trunks now sat in the stream, creating a dry pathway from one side to the other. 

“I didn’t want you trying to cross it alone so I...” Sihtric started but your furrowed brows and parted lips made him stop, “Have I offended you, Lady?” 

“No, this is wonderful.” Your voice came much quieter than you had liked. 

Gingerly stepping to the edge of the bank, you toed the lump of wood and it didn’t budge; a smile crept onto your face as you stepped onto it, following the others to the opposite side and skimming your hands over the top of the long grass as you walked further into it. You had not noticed Sihtric silently trailing behind until he spoke up, 

“The tree had already fallen, I thought it would have better use here than the forest floor.”

This act of care and a kindness shown hit your chest heavily, your mind ran wild with all the different emotions freely flowing in your veins for the first time in what felt like years. Before thinking it through you spun, throwing your arms around Sihtric’s neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. 

He remained still with his arms held at his side, only bringing them around your waist when he felt you sob and whisper a small thank you to him.There was a gentle warmth emanating from his body and into your own; your grip dug into his shoulders, not wanting to let him go. It was only in this moment that you realised how desperately you ached for the touch of another person. 

“My lady?” 

“I’m sorry I just...” You reluctantly pulled back, wiping away tears that had fallen with the back of your fingers, avoiding his concerned gaze. 

“I’ll give you a moment...” 

“No,” you protested grabbing at his arm, and as you met his hazel eyes brought his hand up to your face. “Stay?” Your voice trembled against his knuckles as you ghosted your lips over his skin. You knew you shouldn’t be asking what you were, or in this manner, but you needed to be touched. 

You watched the way a conflicted frown appeared before quickly disappearing; he cupped your cheek with the calloused hand you held and with a sigh you leaned into his touch, pressing a light kiss to the base of his palm. He shifted closer towards you letting his other hand brush along your jaw, his thumb gently skimming over your lips. 

Standing head to head, noses barely nudging each other, you guided his hand down your neck to your chest, silently asking for more of his touch and he gave it freely. You pressed into him as he palmed at your breasts with a whine, lips grazing one another but never locking in a kiss.

With a desperate and sinful heat blooming between your legs, you pulled at the laces of Sihtric’s trousers and he didn’t stop you, allowing you to stroke at his hardening cock with your eyes squeezed shut. He nipped at your cheekbone and ear lobe with his hot breath fanning across your skin, gracing you with the sound of a low moan as your hand gripped his shaft. Guiding you to move to the grassy floor of the meadow, you braved meeting his lust blown eyes full of want mirroring your own. 

You quickly hiked your dress up to your hips, exposing your wet core to the cooling air of a summer evening as he freed himself and settled between your thighs; you hesitated with your mouth on the side of his and nodded for him to give you what you so badly needed to feel.  

You held your breath in anticipation feeling the head of his cock nudging at the entrance of your cunt, a short sharp exhale escaping you with the first shallow thrust, his grunt meeting your high pitched whimper as he then fully sheathed deep in your tight walls. 

Gripping tightly at his shoulder and tugging harshly at Sihtric’s hair, he fucked you into the warm ground with a merciless rhythm, feeding the wanton hunger that coursed through your body and filling the air with lewd sounds of skin slapping skin.

The gravity of your actions were forgotten underneath his body, losing yourself completely to a desire being sated and leaving you feeling near drunk with utter bliss washing over you.

Chasing a release you madly wanted, you tilted your pelvis enabling Sihtric’s thrusts to stroke against your sensitive clit just right, and he understood exactly what you needed by changing his movements to a deep rolling that had your eyes fall back and the tell tale tremor to start in your thighs. 

The open sky was full of the sweet broken cries tumbling from your lips into Sihtric’s ear as you fell apart beneath him and he spilled his hot seed into your pulsing walls with a pained groan. As he collapsed onto your chest, both panting erratically, you untangled your fingers from his hair and loosened your grip on his shoulders. 

The loss of Sihtric’s hand on your hip and him pulling away from between your legs brought you back to reality, his top lip curled up with a flicker of a frown on his face as he laced his trousers and turned away. Your mouth moved in an attempt to say something, anything, but no words could find you and so you stood, readjusting your dress in silence. 

“I’ll escort you back.” 

Unlike the last time he walked you back towards the estate the silence was not full of a curious tension being in the company of a stranger, but one that felt awkward as you tried to have a coherent thought about what had just taken place. Even though Sihtric’s eyes were on you the whole time as he trailed a little behind you he didn’t say a word. 

“It’s best I go on from here alone.” You stated, glancing quickly at Sihtric over your shoulder as the walls came into view through the treeline. 

“Goodnight, lady.” 

“Goodnight.”

Eadwold had not even noticed you’d ventured out for a walk, he was deep in his ramblings with his brother beside the hearth of the main hall and hadn’t even bothered to speak to you as you headed up the stairs to your room. 

As you laid in bed staring up at the rafters your thumb ran over your lips in a poor imitation of how Sihtric had, the ghost of his touch lingering on your skin with a satisfied ache between your thighs. If only I had kissed him, you thought; falling asleep with your mind full of the Pagan you let have your body in the meadow. 

Sleep struggled to find Sihtric that night, the sweet scent of you had been burned into his senses along with the feel of your soft skin on his hands. It shouldn’t have happened, I have lowered her, and other such thoughts swam through his mind until he drifted off. 

Throughout the next morning he was distracted and let Finan take control of the training as he walked around the border of the yard, hoping to catch sight of you, but you never appeared. Not in any of the windows, nor up on the walls watching over them as you usually would, and you weren’t lingering in any open doorways either. 

Sihtric’s mind drifted to you again as he trundled over the moss covered ground with birds flitting through the trees above him, and a hope filled his chest as rounded the corner of the old stones wanting to find you beneath the willow trees but you weren’t there. 

Sighing as he approached the door he paused, he had not left it open before leaving this morning so why was it now ajar? Placing his hand on the hilt of his sword he shoved it open, not expecting to see you sat on the edge of his small fur covered bed. 

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Your silvery tone greeted, he took his hand away from his sword and his tone was sharper than he wanted it to be with his response, 

“Is that wise? Will people not become suspicious if you keep walking off into the woods when they know us men are down here?”  

“Are you afraid?” You asked, your eyes searching his. 

“Yes, but not for me lady, for you.” 

He watched you wet your lips with an incredulous smile on your face and you quickly pushed off the bed walking towards him and cupped his cheeks, crushing your lips to his taking him aback. 

You sighed against him as he began to kiss you back slowly, letting his hands roam your waist.

[buckarooranch]

Howdy, y'all! 💖

The advent calendar's finally in motion! Today, we're launchin' it with a splendid Christmas halter, showin' off in three different patterns—all wrapped up in that good ol' Christmas spirit.

Head on over to our website, where the advent calendar's hangin' its hat, and you can unlatch and snag this gift right there. We're mighty eager to lay eyes on them Christmas snapshots with your trusty steed sportin' that fancy halter.

Hold onto your hats 'cause tomorrow's wranglin' in quick, and we're spillin' the beans: The second gift is tailor-made for keepin' your horse snug in the pasture, especially when that cold wind starts to whistle. So, don't wander too far, partner! 🤠🎄

Details:

3 Swatches with holly

For Adult/Elder horses

Horse Ranch DLC needed

Website (Free!)

[miguelswifey04]

sweetstuff—webslinger x cowgirl! reader

the webslinger glanced up, his eyes widening at the sight of a stunning cowgirl dressed in a spider-woman suit. he couldn't help but be instantly captivated by her charm and beauty, his heart skipping a beat.

“well, darlin', looks like we've got ourselves a real superhero meetin'. the name's webslinger, and you sure do look mighty fine in that get-up. care for a ride on widow? he’s a trusty steed, just like us."

he extended his hand towards you, a warm smile spreading across his face. his southern drawl added an extra touch to his already captivating charm. “why, sure thing!” you winked at him as you hopped on the back of his precious horse. the webslinger couldn't help but blush at the cowgirl's wink, finding himself even more intrigued by her flirtatious nature. he adjusted his cowboy hat and tightened his grip on the reins as you effortlessly hopped onto the back of widow, settling in behind him. “well now, pardner, looks like we're in for a wild ride. hold on tight, and let's show 'em what a dynamic duo we can be!"

with a swift kick of his cowboy boot, the webslinger urged widow into a gallop, racing across the open plains with the wind rushing through his hair. he couldn't hide his excitement as he swung his lasso, shooting webs that caught onto the surrounding trees and produced a series of thrilling acrobatics.

“yeehaw! ain’t no villain can outpace us, not with this trusty horse and these fancy rope tricks!" the webslinger chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief as he glanced back at the cowgirl riding behind him. your enthusiasm only fueled his own, and he couldn't help but appreciate her spirit. “damn right!” you said as you held onto his waist.

"feisty and fearless, just the way i like 'em. ain’t no challenge we can't face together."

he continued to maneuver widow through the terrain, seamlessly dodging obstacles and performing daring stunts. his webs shot out in graceful arcs, allowing him to swing from tree to tree with precision.

“i reckon we make quite the team, darlin'. you’ve got the spirit of a true cowgirl, and i ain't afraid to get my hands dirty. so, what do you say? ready to tame the wild west together?"

“yessir, a girl like me is up for a challenge.” the webslinger felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt the cowgirl's hands wrap around his waist, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him. he couldn't help but let out a low chuckle, his voice full of excitement and anticipation.

“well, ain't you full of surprises, darlin'. hold on tight now, things are about to get a whole lot wilder."with a flick of the reins, the webslinger urged widow to pick up the pace, leading them into a full-blown gallop across the open plains. the wind whipped through their hair as they became a blur against the landscape, their bodies pressed close as they moved as one.

“let’s s ride into the sunset, cowgirl. our adventure has only just begun.

———

a/n: THIS IS SO CORNY Y’ALL but definitely a teaser bc yes there will be a part 2 :p

🏷️: @kairiscorner

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Avalon. A view from Glastonbury Tor a week ago.

"Glastonbury, Avalon, the Isle of Glass as seen through the archway of St Michael's tower this morning before sunrise. The colours in the sky reflected in the flood waters below."

~ 'Visions of Somerset'

[Thank you Ian Sanders]

+

“And so, perhaps, the truth winds somewhere between the road to Glastonbury, Isle of the Priests, and the road to Avalon, lost forever in the mists of the Summer Sea.” ― Marion Zimmer Bradley, The Mists of Avalon

+

“Avalon will always be there for all men to find if they can seek the way thither, throughout all the ages past the ages. If they cannot find the way to Avalon, it is a sign, perhaps, that they are not ready." - Kevin” ― Marion Zimmer Bradley, The Mists of Avalon

+

“Beyond the River of the Blessed, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Avalon. Our swords were shattered in our hands and we hung our shields on the oak tree. The silver towers were fallen, into a sea of blood. How many miles to Avalon? None, I say, and all. The silver towers are fallen. …waters,where the stars shone like bonfires at night and the green of day was always the green of spring. Youth, love, beauty-I knew them in Avalon. Proud steeds, bright metal, soft lips, dark ale. Honor…” ― Roger Zelazny, The Chronicles of Amber

[tgrailwar-zero]

Deciding to follow up on the Priest's lead, you managed to find THRUD and ADAMANT at the market. It was big and bustling, filled with a variety of Solar Cell denizens.

RULER accompanied you, and it was a simple enough explanation about why you were here.

ADAMANT: "So, you're going to help? I won't say no to a bigger hunting party!"

THRUD: "...Mister 'Blade'. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

GIUSEPPE: "News traveled to me and I was curious. There's no hard feelings about our match, right?"

The Valkyrie remained relatively expressionless, but her brow did furrow slightly.

THRUD: "...A grudge would be a waste of memory space. Come, you're just in time, let's be off. We have no time to waste."

She turned, adjusting the pack she had gotten and began heading outward.

The journey out was a bit longer than you expected. It wasn't long by any means, but without RIDER summoning steeds, you were moving on foot. Still, it was a good way to take in the scenery, and the Solar Cell was certainly lush with foliage once you left the metropolitan districts. THRUD gave a brief overview of what you were dealing with.

THRUD: "The Priest said that it had re-appeared recently. Apparently, it had been on the outskirts of the Solar Cell, wandering blindly, circling around and around before finally reaching the mainland. It was reported to have been slowly growing in stature…"

She continued to talk, though the description was beginning to sound familiar. You reached a forested area, ducking into the brush as you all traveled off the beaten path.

ADAMANT: "The Priest said that based on the path, it should be… around here!"

GIUSEPPE: "I hope so, we've been walking for some time."

THRUD: "We'll set up a base camp. And then--"

She was cut off by the the sound of massive footsteps echoing, thundering as something approached from the far distance.

Thundering steps, drawing closer. Closer. Closer. Each one shaking the earth more and more as whatever behemoth was causing them drew nearer.

You saw a massive form. Two massive pairs of feet crashing down, knocking down trees as if they were twigs. Your eyes scanned up the sleek black frame, before you caught a glimpse in the parting of the trees.

'SAKURA SUPERBIA'-- or, more properly, ALTER-EGO. It didn't seem like there was a chance to de-Alter her before the Blue base had been destroyed.

Really, it seemed like she was having a terrible time here.

First, her summoning was botched and she needed to be calmed.

Then there was the first time she had gotten blown up because of you as you followed the advice of a very convincing virus over the reasoning of the Blue faction.

And then the second time she got blown up because of you, because of the Larval Beast that you accidentally set forth upon the Solar Cell that forcibly corrupted her body.

Your AVENGER did snap her out of her first mana-starved rampage-- and sure, you forcibly ripped him away from her, but he did come back. And then her base was destroyed, and her allies were scattered to the wind before she could be properly recovered, so now she existed as a pseudo-dragon of a Beast that was no longer present, and she seemed like she was in a pretty bad way, and now she was on a warpath towards one of the most densely populated cities of the Solar Cell.

So. You know. There was that to keep in mind. This was probably a situation that you'd have to handle with violence, care, or a mixture of both. She let out a deafening, yet pained bellow.

She didn't exactly sound happy. She sounded mad. And angry. And upset. And enraged. And other synonyms for 'furious'. It didn't seem like music was going to be the cure-all here, at least not while she was in this state.

THRUD: "Okay. We'll have to be cautious here. Right now we have the element of surprise, so we'll have to plan."

ADAMANT: "That's a seriously giant, uh, giant! And is she getting bigger…?"

GIUSEPPE: "I can see why the Priest needed us to bring her down. Luckily, she's not moving quickly. Any ideas?"

He focused it to you, though you realized he left out any titles. Potentially because the others didn't know that he was your Servant yet, and wanted to keep that information locked down.

[octahedral-chaos]

Have a ramble about Unnamed Pathless-inspired AU because I AM THINKING

So Edda revived Aven and recreated the universe, which ended up killing her. HOWEVER, her essence ended up becoming these guardian beings who take care of the new universe (Think Minor gods of sorts), and are called "Light Guardians" by the locals (Which might be humans? Not too sure).

Light Guardians take the form of animals, mostly being chimeras between two or more animals, with white fur/ scales/ feathers/ etc and blue eyes, as well as light blue markings. I'm thinking also halos too, or maybe faceless? There are 9 known Light Guardians, but there could be more. All of them are based on a specific concept, such as elements, emotions, travelling, etc.

Light Guardians are also sapient, and despite being unable to talk, they can understand human language. They can also use elemental magic (Most use lightning and/ or ice. Some can use fire and/ or wind. At least 1 can use transcendence magic).

However, something happened and many of the Light Guardians were corrupted. Basically magical rabies, they went berserk and the land was cast into darkness... literally. Ever since that happened, constant thunderstorms and other disasters became a norm, and there was no blue skies for a long time. The Light Guardians would also kill anyone they see, now beings of complete utter rage and hatred.

All except one, of course.

The Light Guardian of the Night, Máni. A noble steed with massive wings, Máni hid for a long time. Yet there was something odd about them, even before the corruption of the other Light Guardians. They seemingly have memories of a previous life, blurry yet unmistakably there. A life in a land very different to the one they call home. Yet those memories felt like a part of them, yet they do not understand it.

And we have our Protagonist of this story: Aven. Aven was revived by Edda, who was overcome with grief. He spent a long time unconscious, until he woke up in an unfamiliar land. Confused, he tried calling out to Edda with no success.

And then it hit him.

At first, he was terrified. All alone in an unfamiliar world where massive monsters roam and disasters happen at every opportunity. This must be a cruel joke, right? Surely this was a bad dream and he'll wake up, right?

Until he met Máni, and realised that this was, in fact, reality.

Cue Aven and Máni wandering the lands, clearing the corruption and restoring the Light Guardians to their former glory. However, Máni does think Aven looks a little bit... familiar.

AKA: Aven gets thrown into a fantasy setting and has to help a God-horse with saving other God-animals-