#yara x oc!

[danelloevee-sky]

Magma drawings 🕺

I miss my wife tails

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

please enjoy some Yara x Macon in these trying times <3 set during the march in part 9 because i love making people suffer tagging: @latibvles @karasnonsense99

-> uncharted

How long had they been marching? Days? Weeks? In the late winter darkness, it became harder to tell what was day and what was night, harder to draw the line between one day and the next. They existed in some state outside of time, some seam in reality where it didn't matter, where the only thing that did was the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other. Yara's feet had been begging for release for hours, rubbed raw beneath hard leather, every step its own private agony.

Settling in the brick factory for the night had seemed a godsend, huddled together on the floor, the warmth of the furnaces practically a luxury. Stepping inside, the men had made a rush for the glowing embers, gloved hands held out as they jostled for position. She had elbowed her way through, facing less pushback than the other men around her - even after all these months, there were still concessions to be made, liberties she could take knowing that the mere fact of her gender would help her get away with it. These men knew the Seraphim girls were tough as nails - they'd seen it themselves. But no one wanted to be the guy who told the women they couldn't shoulder in next to the furnace.

And yet the exhaustion of the march had taken so much out of their wretched group that the struggle for warmth had only seemed to last minutes before everyone found their places on the floor, unable to sustain any sort of labour even if it promised precious warmth. Yara propped herself up against one of the shelving units, the corner of the wood digging against her spine, but not quite uncomfortable enough to warrant the exertion of moving even a few inches. She wanted to kick off her boots, but she wasn't confident that they'd still be waiting for her in the morning if she did. Everything was so sacred out here that nothing was - nothing could be put down if one didn't want to see it stolen, tucked away into another prisoner's pocket before one could even blink.

Maisie had tucked in beside her, their bodies pressed tightly against each other to keep warm. "Y'know, next week it will've been exactly one year since we went down," She whispered.

Yara blinked. It had been a while since she'd had any sense at all of what date it was. She hadn't realised it had been that long. "... Really?"

"Mhm."

"You been keeping count?"

"Yeah."

"... Huh."

There was so much unspoken between them, so much implied by that simple fact. It wasn't the Seraphim crash that mattered, not really.

One year since they'd last seen Sylvie. Angel. Sadie.

One year since Thea had died.

She pondered this for a long moment, but when she turned to speak to Maisie once more, the radio operator was already long gone, fast asleep against Yara's shoulder, snoring softly into the fabric of her coat collar. Letting out a huff, she folded her arms tightly across her chest, waiting for sleep to come for her too. Then growing steadily irritated when it didn't.

The sudden nudge of a steel-toed boot against her leg made her flinch, shoulders tensing as her gaze darted upwards. Macon sat opposite her, sandwiched between Daniels and Jefferson's sleeping figures, unable to move anything but his legs for fear of waking them, the pair leaning against both arms. "Shit. Sorry," He whispered, her chest slowing its rapid rise and fall as she recognised him in the darkness. "I didn't mean to scare you."

She'd almost denied it. But he had scared her, the feel of his boot against her too similar to that of the guards, impossible to tell the difference in the dark - at least not fast enough to stall the panic in her chest.

"Can't sleep?" She asked, freezing for a second as Maisie squirmed slightly, lowering her voice to avoid her stirring. Richard shook his head slightly, taking a deep breath.

"First couple months we were here, me and the fellas kept talkin' about how we were gonna escape. S'all we talked about for weeks."

"Well, when you manage it, send a postcard," Yara smirked picking at the fraying wool in her glove. He cracked a grin, a flash of teeth through parted lips.

"You never thought about it?" Macon asked. It happened to everyone sooner or later - everyone convinced themselves they could be the one, the person to break out and make it home free. Sometimes it wore off, sometimes it didn't - She watched Kit and Bucky all the time, huddled together in secret conversation, and she knew exactly what they were planning. Yara had given up so quickly that she wasn't sure she'd ever truly believed it in the first place. She didn't need to run for the guards to find an excuse to kill her.

"Nah. I'm waiting it out and goin' home to my sisters."

He was smiling again. "You didn't tell me you had sisters."

"Twins. Maya and Leda - they'll be nearly nineteen now."

Nodding along, Richard shrugged. "Well. When I get back, I'm gonna go to-"

"To your twenty-three acres of loblolly pine, yeah, I know," Yara grinned.

"Point seven."

"Huh?"

"Twenty-three point seven acres," He pointed out. She laughed then, raising a hand over her mouth as she suddenly became conscious of the noise, careful not to wake anyone around them.

A true smile was a rare sight around here.

Hers made him dizzy.

"You should come," Richard nodded.

Her brow raised slightly. "Me?"

"Yeah, you," The corner of his mouth rose in a smile, another flash of teeth. "You think these other assholes are invited? Build you a house - hell, I'll build you a dozen, we got room."

"Shut up," Yara chuckled, shaking her head. "You're sleep-deprived."

He shrugged, as if daring her to argue. "Feel pretty awake."

Her shoulders tensed. She didn't want to think about it - what it could mean if he wasn't kidding, what life could promise beyond the four walls of this frozen factory. She didn't want to think about it, because letting herself think about it meant giving space to hope, letting it permeate the walls she put up around herself. Yara Katz had decided to stop caring about anything but cold, hard survival a long time ago. She cared about enough people here already - too many - she didn't have space to care much for herself as well.

And what would it mean if she let herself admit that perhaps, just maybe, she was glad to have met Richard Macon, the man sitting across from her, staring at her like she was the sun? Did it mean she was glad to be here? Did it mean she was glad for the crash? For everything they'd gone through? For Thea's death? How could she appreciate the one good thing that had come out of all this without disregarding all of the bad?

Yara sucked in a deep breath, rubbing uncomfortably at her wrist as Maisie moved against her again.

"... Ask me again when we're free."

Macon nodded, slow and understanding, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Ok."

Her eyes narrowed, staring at him for a moment. "And stop smirking."

"I'm not."

"Yes you are."

He looked down at his lap, letting out a huff of amusement. "Damn, Katz. You know I'll wait for you."

She shrugged, folding her arms across her chest as she slumped slightly against the shelves, readjusting her body to a more comfortable position. "Yeah, I figured."

[ashalle-art]

Finished the mistletoe Meme last night/today :D Thank you so much for suggesting all the pairings 💕🥰

Which kiss is your fav?

[asa-do-your-thing]

The Maiden's Voyage I

Yara Greyjoy x F!OC

18+ Minors DNI WC: 7.7k Warnings: dubious power balances, slight dubcon, lesbian sex, smut, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, religion

Meddling in mortal's affairs was never her thing.

Of course, once in a while she took pity on some star-struck lovers or a kind girl cursed with an ugly face, but that had been the furthest she'd ever gone in a long time. Sailing to Westeros from the uncharted west on a rich, gold laden ship?

It seemed ridiculous. It had been half a catastrophe the last time she'd done it, when the so-called 'Aegon the Conqueror' grabbed all Kingdoms with the help of his sister wives. After he'd spurned her, she put a great curse on his seed and watched with glee at how these petty kings and queens tore at eachother's throats.

The salty ocean air delicately tousled her hair as she sailed towards the shores, guided by the gentle breeze. She sank into a soft chaise and nibbled on some grapes. The people of this continent worshiped her under various names - 'The Seven' for the high- and lowborn, 'The Maiden' for those who couldn't fully understand the concept of one god with multiple aspects, and 'The Drowned God' for the Iron Men. For the northerners, she was one of their Old Gods.

A smile played on her lips as she observed a seagull flying over her ship with curiosity. It was amusing how most people struggled to accept a deity that was all-encompassing and omnipresent, choosing to manifest itself as a young woman.

Countless times, her offspring had inquired why she chose to venture into the Mortal realm in a tangible form. They pleaded for her to remain by their divine side. But to their chagrin, she simply stated that she was...bored. Exhausted from the endless cycle of bountiful and barren harvests, weary of reprimanding and rewarding her devout followers, and utterly unamused by the gossip of the haughty elite. She craved a bit of excitement, some exhilarating mischief to spice up her eternal existence.

After all, even a goddess needs a change of pace now and then.

As she sat in her chaise, gazing upon the endless horizon of the dark blue sea, she contemplated her next disguise. The delicate decision of her appearance in the Mortal realm was significant to her, as it would determine her perceived age, beauty, and influence over those she interacted with. To seem vulnerable, naive even, by choosing a youthful form was a tactic that never failed.

A delicate hand ran through her silken tresses as she mulled over the appropriate guise for this journey. A girl barely out of adolescence? Maybe someone with fair skin, slightly freckled, and a cascade of russet hair... or perhaps a dusky maiden with raven locks?

Each had its charm and advantages. Through her divine wisdom, she understood that appearing young would not only deceptively imply innocence but also instigate an unconscious protective instinct in the mortals' hearts, encouraging them to spill their secrets and lower their guards around her.

She knew this from past experiences: the more innocent and unassuming the form, the better to beguile, manipulate and control. The age-old adage 'never judge a book by its cover' seemed to elude these mortals persistently. It brought a wicked grin to her lips; they were such simple creatures.

Her lively eyes twinkled with a glint of devilish mischief as she decided on the form that she'd assume this time. It would be a peculiar mix, something a bit daring; petite in stature yet blessed with a voluptuous figure that could evoke both admiration and envy among mortal women. Alluring curves combined harmoniously with her small frame to concoct an irresistible charm. Her skin would be pale, almost moonlit, speckled with an explosion of tiny freckles, a stark contrast that would make one's heart flutter.

Her hair, the shade of chestnut, would cascade down her back in long, untamed waves evoking the beauty of wild nature itself. It would flow around her like a silken tapestry catching each flicker of sunlight and transforming it into a myriad of dancing glowworms. As for the eyes, they had to be something unusual. Not the typical blues or browns—those were too common amongst mortals. She decided on grey—the color of wisdom mixed with mystery. They would bewitch any onlooker with their hypnotic gaze: warm, yet chilling; inviting, yet daunting—a mirage of conflicting emotions that was as captivating as it was unnerving.

She tilted her head back and laughed; a rich, sultry sound that seemed to blend effortlessly with the rhythmic lullaby of the crashing waves. Her lips, plump and imbued with an intense shade of red, added the final touch to her mortal guise. These lips held power—they could whisper incantations that swayed kings, utter words that could ignite passion in mortal hearts or even unleash a tempestuous fury over the seven kingdoms.

Then came her name - a title to be reckoned with.

She'd been known by countless names in different ages and realms; some revered her while others feared her based on nomenclature alone. For one who held so many identities over time, finding an alias that would blend seamlessly into this land's culture was crucial. She wanted something grandiose yet enigmatic - the last few times she'd been Airis, a lonely sheperdess, Helyssa, a courtesan from Lys and Jorrit, the mighty huntress from beyond the wall. These were all mighty fine names and personas she'd built herself, yet she wanted something a bit more... powerful for this trip.

There'd be a lot more noble Ladies and Lord to seduce and manipulate this time around.

After extensive contemplation, she decided on Mariette—a name as simple as it was elegant. It had a touch of the exotic, with an air of familiarity that would allow her to blend into the society seamlessly. And she would not just be any Mariette; she'd assume the title of a princess. The notion of royalty gave her a sense of unchecked privilege and power that she so craved for in this mortal realm. It was the perfect embodiment of her wicked intentions.

As she studied herself in the reflection of the still sea water, Princess Mariette shivered in delight. The dainty figure stared back with a radiant smile, her grey eyes sparkling with an intense gleam that captivated any observer. Her form, while enchanting, held the promise of intrigue and danger—precisely what she desired.

She pondered over a suitable surname next. 'Stark', 'Targaryen', 'Lannister'—these were names that held weight in Westeros, but their legacy was too strong and could invite unwanted scrutiny. Thus, she needed a last name that was unique yet inconspicuous, something that suggested nobility without being directly linked to any existing lineage.

For hours, she toyed with various names, whispering each one softly to gauge how it sounded alongside 'Mariette.' She finally settled on 'Eldryss'—a name as mysterious as it was regal. It was an old name from an ancient tongue lost to time—a language only known by creatures like her.

And so, Princess Mariette Eldryss was born.

Her journey into this new world promised rich rewards for the subjects that bent to her will, that worshipped her and helped her, and great, unimaginable pain and ruin for those that dared to want to hurt her or to scorn her.

As she came closer to the land, a shiver ran through her and she could feel the sea within her. Grinning wickedly, she willed the wind to pick up and the waves to rumble under her ship - it seemed like her first stop would be the Iron Islands. Oh, how giddy she felt! The sight of panicked fishermen and pirates quickly trying to go back to their ports, She felt two souls leaving some poor wretches and sat back down into her chaise. "What is dead may never die," she mumbled with a grin.

With the growing thrill of anticipation, Princess Mariette Eldryss observed the turmoil her arrival had caused. Men and women like ants, scurrying in every direction, fleeing the tempest she had beckoned. From this distance, she could smell their fear, taste their panic—it was intoxicating.

She let out a soft laugh, her grey eyes dancing with merriment as they chased the scampering boats back to their safe harbours. For those sailors who dared to stay and brave her storm, she offered them an eerie serenity amidst the chaos. At some level, her wicked heart admired their foolish bravery.

In the heart of it all, her ship continued to sail undeterred, cutting through the waves like a mighty sea beast. The sailors on board were used to such conditions during their many adventures across the seas. She'd chosen each of them—a motley crew of trusted pirates and cutthroats—for their loyalty and gutsiness. Each had pledged their life to serve her faithfully, and in exchange, she promised them treasures that would surpass their wildest dreams. Rich dead men, cursed to never enjoy their riches - oh wickedly fun it had been when they started to notice their predicament.

The rugged elegance of Pyke soon loomed in front of them. Its weather-beaten towers and wind-ravaged walls held an austere beauty that only one born of the rocks and water could appreciate. Despite her ethereal origins, Princess Mariette found herself oddly drawn to this harsh landscape.

As they neared the cliffs, she stood tall at the bow of her ship, bracing herself against the salty spray that lashed against her face. Her seaweed braids clung tightly to her head while her simple yet rugged dress danced wildly in the wind—making her appear as a phantom sea goddess emerging from the briny deep.

The first to meet her gaze on the land, to which she'd swam through the mighty storm was an old, grizzled sailor, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe. He fell to his knees, whispering prayers of protection to the Drowned God. She glanced at him for a moment before shifting her attention to the group of rugged men who had gathered to watch her arrival.

Their expressions ranged from suspicious to openly hostile. She took in their hardened faces, their weather-beaten leathers, their grim expressions and she knew—these were men who thrived on power, violence and respect; they wouldn’t easily fall under her enchantment. But she also knew that she had more than enough charm and guile to bend them to her will.

With each step she took down the gangway, there was a hushed silence, broken only by the crashing waves against the rocky shore. When she finally set foot on solid ground, she lifted her chin and swept her gaze over the crowd. "I am Princess Mariette Eldryss from a land far in the west," she declared, her voice ringing out loud and clear over the noise of the storm. "I wish to speak to your Lord."

It was then that the Iron Men parted before her, their steel-faced gazes never leaving her as they revealed not a Lord but a woman of formidable presence. With the same stormy grey eyes that pierced through the torrential rain, Yara Greyjoy approached Mariette. The wind whipped at her sodden coat, revealing a well-worn chest plate and an impressive cutlass hanging loosely at her side.

"When your Lord isn't present, you send his daughter," she retorted dryly, her gaze challenging. "I am Yara Greyjoy... and in my father's stead, I am your audience."

Mariette’s eyes sparkled with intrigue as she studied Yara. This woman was both fierce and intriguing - a rare combination that Mariette knew all too well. Nevertheless, she maintained her stoicism.

"I see," she replied after a tense pause, her voice carrying authority despite the raging storm around them. "Well then, Lady Greyjoy… I come bearing an offer. An offer that I believe would be of interest to your people."

Just then, as if conjured by some unseen hand, another figure emerged from the throng of ironborn. Draped in robes soaked through by sea spray and rain, with a cascade of hair as dark as the turbulent sea around them, stood Aeron Greyjoy.

The Drowned Priest's eyes flickered with latent power as he too approached the Princess. Despite his craggy features, there was an almost youthful intensity in his gaze as he extended a gnarled hand towards Mariette - a silent invitation for her to continue with her proposition. She must've intruiged him somehow.

However, Yara interjected before Mariette could speak. "We need no offers, princess. Your presence on our island is intrusion enough." Yara's words sliced through the rain-soaked air, her defiance echoing out to the volatile sea.

"Perhaps," Mariette responded calmly, her voice steady in the thunderous storm, "But I believe it is an offer you might want to consider before sending me away."

Ignoring Yara's hardened glare, she turned towards the Drowned Priest, extending a slender hand, encrusted with simple iron-engulfed emerald and sapphire rings. "Aeron Greyjoy... I've heard of you. The priest who still listens to the whispers of the drowned god. You are very devout." Her voice echoed mysteriously, barely concealing a hint of invitation.

Aeron's gaze locked onto hers, his sea-green eyes glinting with an unreadable emotion. He took her hand in his rough one in a gesture that spoke more of curiosity than acceptance. A sudden wind howled around them as if cheering for this unexpected alliance.

In that moment, Princess Mariette did something unexpected. She closed her eyes and stood stone-still amidst the rage of the storm while holding onto Aeron's hand. Following suit after an initial hesitation, Aeron closed his eyes too.

The crowd watched in utter fascination as their Drowned Priest and this foreign princess stood there, clasped hands raised slightly above their heads as if waiting for a divine sign. The rain poured harder, the waves grew wilder and yet they stood unmoving. And then something remarkable happened.

A vision appeared before Aeron Greyjoy's eyes - he saw the face of his drowned god - and saw the Princess looking back at him, naked, floating underneath the sea, barncles scattered over her pale body. He saw her hair flowing like sea-weed, eyes wide and grey, devoid of life, and a knowing smile that sent a shiver down his spine. His drowned god had never shown him such a sight before. He saw her gesturing towards him, inviting him into the depths with her, promising treasures untamed and secrets unspoken. A jolt of energy surged through him, causing Aeron's eyes to snap open. He found himself staring into Mariette's grey eyes which mirrored the vision he'd just had. In that moment, he knew that she was not ordinary.

She was of the sea, a creature as unpredictable and wild as the waves themselves.

Faling onto his knees, he hugged Mariette's legs and moved his lips in silent prayer. A rasp of uncertain murmurs rippled through the crowd as the nervously watched their most devout priest seemingly pray to this weird young Princess which had come to them in one of the harshest storms they's ever encountered. Mariette saw that Yara was still uncertain about her, but that was to be expected, for she had little belief in anything except for herself.

Mariette turned her gaze towards Yara and met the untrusting fiery eyes of the Greyjoy woman, her voice cutting sharply through the roaring wind. "It is not your trust that I need, but your acceptance." It was not a plea, but a statement forged with ironclad certainty.

A sudden clap of thunder echoed throughout Iron Island, as if the drowned god himself were responding to Mariette's bold declaration. The crowd gasped in awe, but Mariette remained unaffected. She stood tall, her gaze steady on Yara, awaiting her reaction.

Yara looked at Aeron who had just risen from his prayerful stupor. He gave a single nod, his eyes still filled with the reverent terror of his vision. She understood then what must be done.

"Fine," Yara spat out grudgingly after a moment, "you come with me then." She yanked herself free from her uncle's grip and motioned for Mariette to follow. The crowd parted silently as the two women made their way through it.

As they neared the edge of the island, a monstrous wave crashed against the stony cliff beneath them. The saltwater spray hit everyone with a chilling force and drenched them thoroughly.

Everyone except Mariette.

She stood there amidst the drenched onlookers, untouched by the wrath of the sea. Her simple, rough gown still fluttered in the undying gale and her auburn hair flowed gracefully with the seaweed in it, looking drier than the deserts in Dorne.

The crowd watched in disbelief as Mariette simply turned towards them and smiled mysteriously before following Yara towards Pyke Castle.

The castle itself was a wonder, carved entirely from the great rocks that were native to Iron Islands. Its tall towers stood like ancient sentinels against the backdrop of the storm-tossed sea, and the wind howled mournfully through its narrow corridors and arched windows. With each step, Yara seemed to sink deeper into the dread of what she had agreed to.

Yet, Mariette walked with an air of unshakeable calm, her eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight as they made their way through the labyrinthine passageways. Who would she seduce here? Lord Balon or feisty Yara? Would any of them even come to appreciate what she would give them this night?

They passed through grand halls adorned with tapestries depicting battles long past, where the sound of drunken laughter and fistfights had once echoed. Now, all that was left were the echoes of silence and a lingering sense of foreboding.

Yara, feeling the weight of trepidation loom heavier with each step, suddenly halted near the entrance to a grand hall, its ancient stone walls adorned with faded murals depicting conquests of yore. Turning to Mariette with a look of defiance etched on her features, she declared in a low growl, "This is as far as I take you."

Yara wasted no time and lunged at Mariette with a fierce battle cry. Her movements were precise and swift, honed through years of brutal training under the most ruthless warriors on Iron Island. But Mariette was just as skilled, gracefully evading Yara's attack with fluid movements that seemed to defy gravity. In one fluid motion, she extended her arm and struck Yara with a powerful blow, sending her crashing to the ground with a resounding thud that shook the fortress walls. The crowd gasped in shock, but Mariette remained calm and focused, ready for whatever move her fallen opponent would make next.

She extended her hand towards Yara and offered a smirk as icy as winter winds. "Is this how you greet all your guests?" she taunted sweetly, savoring the stunned silence that her words elicited from the small crowd of warriors and thralls that had gathered to watch them.

Yara's eyes met hers defiantly. Yet, there was no rush to retaliate. No immediate cry for another battle. Instead, Yara pushed herself up from the cold stone floor slowly and stood facing Mariette once more with a small grin. The smirk didn't leave Mariette's face as she waited ever so patiently for Yara's next move.

"So I see that women are trained well in the West," Yara grumbled and patted Mariette on the shoulder. It dawned on her that this wasn't a true attack out of bad will, but rather a test, a test of strength. "Let me introduce you to my father, Lord Balon."

As they walked through the stony corridors of Pyke Castle, Yara's gaze lingered on Mariette. She couldn't deny the woman was an extraordinary creature. Her movements exuded a confident grace that was alluring, her eyes held a calm determination that was intimidating. Her whole demeanor was an enigma that piqued Yara's curiosity and begrudging respect.

The doors to Lord Balon's chambers were held together with rough iron bands, a testament to the harsh reality of life on the Iron Islands. Shielding her eyes against the dim light, Mariette followed Yara into the room. In the flickering torchlight, an old man sat hunched over an ancient map, his gnarled fingers tracing over worn lines and faded colors.

Lord Balon glanced up at their entrance, his sunken eyes reflecting surprise and suspicion as they landed on Mariette. "And what is this?" he demanded gruffly, his voice echoing through the drafty halls of the castle.

"This," Yara began, nodding towards Mariette with a smirk, "is our guest from the West, Father."

Lord Balon scrutinized Mariette then, his hawk-like eyes piercing through to her very soul before he let out a gruff laugh that echoed eerily around the room. "So," he sneered with contempt dripping from every syllable, "the West does exist and the only thing that proves it oif this girl that looks like she'd been washed up on our shores."

Ignoring Balon's jibe, Mariette took a step forward and curtsied slightly, her voice steady despite the tense silence in the room. "I am not here as a representative of anyone but myself," she declared boldly. "I have heard great tales of your bravery, Lord Greyjoy." Hm, seems like Yara would be the one to warm my bed tonight, she thought to herself while she studied Balon. He didn't have much longer to live, but oh how he mistrusted her, how he felt pain in his lifetime. "I require but a night on Pyke, then I will be gone again and I shall not bother you any more, my Lord."

Yara's eyes nervously flitted between her father and the Princess. Mariette had to refrain from grinning as she felt another surge of respect from the rugged woman - she was impressed that Mariette hadn't told him that she was a Princess, nor boasted with riches. "She fights well," Yara said stoically and looked out of the window, where the storm had calmed slightly, " Uncle Aeron approves of her as well. She worships the drowned God."

Lord Balon narrowed his eyes at his daughter, the skepticism in his gaze growing more profound. "A woman who worships the Drowned God and fights like a true Ironborn?" He chuckled bitterly, "I suppose she walks on water too."

His piercing gaze returned to Mariette, studying her face for any hint of deception. The corners of Mariette's mouth twitched upwards in a daring smile. "I cannot walk on water, Lord Greyjoy, but I have been known to hold my breath for an impressively long time," she quipped, holding his stare.

Balon’s laughter echoed around the room again, harsh and grating. He leaned back in his chair regarding Mariette with a newfound respect. She had weathered his scorn with grace and wit, a feat not many had accomplished in his presence.

Yara watched the exchange warily, her grip tightening on the hilt of her sword. Her father was unpredictable at best and lethal at worst. His amusement could turn to rage in a heartbeat.

"Very well," Balon finally announced after a moment of contemplation. His voice was still filled with suspicion, but his facial expression had changed slightly. “We’ll keep you for the night...but mind your manners.���

Mariette bowed her head graciously, thanking the Lord for his reluctant hospitality. Her gaze met Yara’s shortly, nodding her head towards her subtly as though acknowledging an unspoken challenge.

As they left Lord Balon's chambers together, Yara put her hand on Mariette's shoulder stopping her. "My father might be old, but he is not naive. Whatever game you play here..."

Mariette batted her eyelashes subtly and put her own hand on Yara's rough one. Oh, little warrior, she thought to herself as she felt Yara taking a quick breath, now I've trapped you. "I do not play games, or at least not yet. That I shall do once I am in King's Landing. And as I've mentioned before... If no harm comes to me on these next few hours until I can leave your Islands again, you will be rewarded richly - the West is a generous place but not a foolish one." With a small smile, she gently lifted Yara's hand off of her shoulders and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Yara stared at Mariette in silence for several moments, the low light from the hallway's torches glinting off her hardened exterior as if it were armor. The intensity in her eyes was broken only by a flutter of intrigue and, quite possibly, excitement that danced in their depths.

"So be it," she finally murmured, her grip on Mariette's hand tightening momentarily before she released it. Yara jerked her head towards the castle's main hall, indicating with silent command that they were to move along. Every step she took echoed with authority and purpose, a manifestation of the rough-and-tumble culture of the Iron Islands.

They walked through long corridors lined with ancient tapestries depicting battles and victories of the Ironborn. The worn stone underfoot felt cold against Mariette's skin, yet strangely comforting. It was a stark contrast to the grandeur and warmth of the West, but there was an undeniable charm in its harsh austerity.

After passing through several stone arches, they arrived at an opulent room draped in furs and adorned with relics from countless raids, a testament to the Greyjoy’s adventurous nature. Yara led Mariette to an enormous wooden table laden with roasted fish and goblets overflowing with ale - a spread worthy of a Greyjoy.

A burly man seated at the far end of the table rose as they approached and clapped Yara on the shoulder amicably. "Uncle Aeron," Yara greeted him with a nod. His deep-set eyes surveyed Mariette with great wonder before he offered a curt nod in return. "Our guest from the West."

Mariette dipped into a small curtsy before lowering herself onto a chair next to Yara.

The room was alive with the hum of conversations, yet when Mariette sat down, it felt as though a thick shroud of silence had been draped over them. The clatter of mugs against the table and the murmur of indistinct words seemed to fade into mere whispers. She noticed numerous curious eyes fixated on her, yet none dared speak to the foreigner among them.

After what felt like an eternity, she picked up a fork and began to daintily pick at the roasted fish before her. It was a humble meal at best but carried the touch of the Ironborn — bold and sincere in its simplicity. As she took a bite, she couldn't help but draw comparisons with the fine wine and gourmet feasts back in her realm, above the mortals. The richness of seafood flavour mingled with a smoky aftertaste — far from what she was used to, but oddly satisfying nonetheless, not that she needed any sustence, she was a godess after all - but it certainly helped her blend in better.

To fill in the looming silence, Mariette sipped from her goblet and looked out of the window. Outside, the storm began to roll in again, thunder echoing ominously against the walls of the castle. She resisted a chuckle at their startled expressions as a particularly loud clap of thunder made goblets rattle and some men jump at their seats. Ah, how fun it was to toy around with the weather, she thought glefully

Aeron shot Mariette a knowing look, an eyebrow slightly raised in question, but said nothing. His niece merely grunted into her cup while most around them muttered about rough weather and bad omens. Gradually though, conversations picked up again, albeit with more caution in their tones, cautiously navigating around superstitions related to storms.

"So, Yara, pray tell, is there a reason why such a fierce woman as yourself is without a husband or wife?", she asked curiosly, pulling some crab meat out of its shell. Willing to exude desire, she smirked as Yara blushed and hid her face in her cup again. Aww, the poor thing's blushing, how un-warriorlike of her, Mariette thought to herself with a grin and caught an eye of a young man, presumably one of the Saltcliffe boys and saw him nervously rearranging something in his pants.

She had forgotten just how potent her moods were on these mortals around her, especially adolescent ones - but tonight her treat was Yara, not some pimply boy.

Yara's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she downed her ale as if it were water. "That's a personal matter," she muttered into her goblet, glancing sideways at Mariette, her eyes momentarily revealing the hint of vulnerability she’d been trying to hide. Yet, there was a spark of curiosity in her gaze, and it was clear that her interest was piqued by the question.

"Personal matter or not," Mariette leaned closer to Yara, her voice barely above a whisper as she let the question hang in the air between them. "I am sure there'd be lots of people wishing for your strong hand."

The room filled with laughter and chatter again, but it was merely a background noise to their intimate conversation. Yara looked at Mariette for what seemed like an eternity before replying, "Perhaps there are, I wouldn't know. I'm not in the mood for marriage."

Mariette's smile widened at Yara's response. She raised her goblet for a toast. "To secrets yet unshared," she said mysteriously, leaning back in her chair. Her gaze, however, was focused on Yara, studying every reaction.

Before Yara could respond, another loud crash of thunder echoed around them. The room dimmed momentarily as if the storm was dictating the mood. Aeron grunted in irritation, his eyes narrowing in suspicion towards Mariette whose smirk only seemed to grow wider.

Yara hesitated for a moment before raising her own goblet in return. "To secrets," she agreed quietly and took another long drink from her cup.

The evening carried on in this manner; Mariette had great fun toying with Pyke's apparent heiress. So when the feast came to a close, she had been anything but surprised when Yara had offered to take her to a chamber for the night.

Yara's fingers brushed against her lightly, a gesture that was at once rough and soft. "This way," the warrior woman said, her voice gruff yet strangely tender. Mariette couldn't help but flash Yara a playful grin as she got up from her seat.

As they navigated through narrow passageways and up winding staircases, Yara remained silent. Her grip tightened around Mariette's hand every time a crack of thunder echoed through the castle walls, each tremor sent a jolt through her stoic facade.

Finally, they arrived at a chamber situated at one of the castle towers. The room was small but comfortable, filled with sturdy wooden furniture and lit by a single burning sconce. A large fur-covered bed sat in the middle, looking incredibly inviting after the evening's events.

"Make yourself comfortable," Yara said gruffly after closing the door behind them, her eyes pointedly avoiding Mariette's gaze. She moved to pour herself a drink from a decanter on a small table by the bed.

"I must say, you Greyjoys know how to entertain," Mariette remarked lightly as she watched Yara take generous swigs from her goblet. She could see the woman's shoulders relax slightly at her statement, perhaps relieved that their 'guest' was not entirely displeased with her stay thus far.

"Indeed?" Yara replied, raising an eyebrow at Mariette as she turned to face her fully. "And here I thought you were rather... bored earlier."

Mariette let out a soft chuckle before letting herself fall lasciviously onto the bed, her breasts straining against the dull fabric of the dress. "Oh no, I've been quite entertained," she purred.

"I see," Yara said, her voice unsteady but maintaining an air of nonchalance. She took another gulp from her goblet and then poured herself a second serving. "Well, then," she continued, "I suppose I can rest easier knowing our guests are happy."

"You are such a considerate hostess," Mariette responded in a teasing tone as she kicked off her boots and stretched out on the bed. It was clear to Yara that the strange Princess was indeed at ease in the Ironborn's quarters. Her eyes were closed, a slight smile lingering on her lips while she fiddled with the hem of her dress, pulling it up slightly.

The sight made Yara's heart speed up as if she'd been running up the steep stairs again. She took one last gulp of her drink to steady her nerves before setting down her empty goblet. Then, slowly, she approached the bed, her eyes never leaving Mariette.

"Don't go thinking you've seen all we have to offer just yet," Yara said, sounding more confident than she felt. The room filled with tension; it buzzed like the impending storm outside.

"Oh?" Mariette sat up slowly, letting her dress fall back down over her knees. Her gaze never left Yara's determined face. "And what else does House Greyjoy have to offer me?"

Yara simply smirked in response and walked over to her and roughly pushed her dress up, blushing as she felt the lack of smallclothes on the Princess' soft skin, before gently letting her hand wander up to Mariette's hot and moist core.

With a deep breath, Yara sank to her knees between Mariette's thighs and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her arousal. Her fingers traced the delicate lines of the Princess's pussy, parting her folds ever so slightly.

For a moment, she just admired the dark curls of hair that surrounded Mariette's sweet spot and the way her cunny glistened in the dim light of the chambers. She leaned in closer, pressing a tender kiss against her soft skin before teasingly licking her out from bottom to top and back again. Her hands slowly began to explore the rest of Mariette's body—the soft curves of her hips, ass cheeks and thighs that quivered beneath her touch.

Mariette groaned loudly at the sensation and spread her legs wider, giving Yara better access. Women always tended to do these things better, yet she was still surprised at Yara's eagerness to please, seeing as she was still full dressed between her thighs. Yara's tongue darted out to lap at her nectar again while a finger rested gently against her puckered asshole, sending waves of pleasure coursing through Mariette's veins. She felt herself getting wetter by the second underneath Yara's hungry attention. Her hips bucked up off the mattress unintentionally as she tried to get closer to that eager tongue.

The sound of heavy breathing filled the air as Yara continued to worship Mariette's body, eliciting sweet moans from the Godess-in-diguise.

In the dim light of the chamber, Yara's fingers danced over Mariette's body like shadows, tracing along every line and curve with a tenderness that only fueled her fire. She let out a low growl as she felt the Princess' hips buck against her touch, giving the Princess everything she could. Her tongue teased and toyed with Mariette's pearl, flicking it swiftly before plunging deep inside her warmth, tasting the nectar that flowed from her. The goddess moaned loudly, undulating her hips in time with Yara's movements, her fingers threading through the warrior woman's hair in ecstasy. It had been a long time since she's last felt this way - this raw hunger mixed with tenderness.

As Yara worked her magic on her clit with one hand, she expertle undressed herself, tossing her leather garb recklessly onto the floor. Mariette smiled as she panted lightly; Yara was indeed a rugged beauty underneath everything. She'd positioned herself between Mariette's legs again and resumed lapping at her folds, relishing in the salty-sweet taste that filled her mouth.

Mariette gasped as Yara pulled back slightly and came up, swiftly pulling Mariette's dress over her shoulders and giving her a rough kiss. Just as soon as she'd registered the warrior's tongue in her mouth, she'd already introduced her fingers into her mouth, grinning wickedly. "Show me how good you can suck, princess... Make them wet so I can fuck you senseless...," she muttered against her ear, sending shivers up Mariette's spine.

To that, Mariette could only open her mouth and blush up at Yara, who trembled as she watched her perfect mouth wrap itself around her rough fingers, her tongue gently coating them with saliva.

Yara grinned to herself as she licked along the seam of her pussy once more, pushing two fingers inside of her. Despite being able to take any man or woman as she pleased, Yara Greyjoy had never found someone whom she could bring so much pleasure - or someone who could entice such pleasure in such a short time. As Mariette thrust her hips forward in response to the intrusion, Yara took this as a sign to add another finger, stretching her wider than she'd ever been before.

The goddess cried out into the dimly lit room, grinding herself against Yara's hand as she set an unforgiving pace, filling the room with lewd slapping sounds as Mariette arched her back, grabbed at the furs and felt her body tensing up for release.

Yara bent her head down to continue worshipping Mariette's sex, taking the goddess deep into her mouth as her fingers thrust in and out, feeling Mariette's walls clamp down on them. She loved the way she tasted, so sweet and salty on her tongue, mixed with the tang of desire and need. Moans filled the air as Yara sucked on her clit, earning a sharp gasp from Mariette. Her tongue flicked over it rapidly, driving her wild with pleasure. She could feel Mariette's thighs shaking as she held onto her head for dear life.

As the goddess approached her release, Yara pulled back just enough to watch as her eyes rolled back into her head and her body tensed up, ready to cum any moment now. Smiling gently at her visitor, she set her lips onto Mariette's swollen bud a last time and groaned when she felt the Princess coming onto her hand. The taste was heavenly as she swallowed every drop greedily while also stroking Mariette's inner walls with her fingers, milking every last drop of pleasure from them.

This woman knew how to make love, Maritte thought with a contented sigh and gently pulled her up. "You did well, my Lady," she whispered seductively in Yara's ear, "now it is my turn to make you fell good."

Mariette pulled Yara onto her face and smiled gently as she heard her moaning as she felt the warm, wet lips envelop her sex. Her hips pressed down instinctively, seeking more contact as she felt Mariette's tongue dart out to taste her. She held on to the bed's headboard as the princess began to lap at her feminine essence, causing her to gasp and moan out loud. The sensation was overwhelmingly pleasurable and intense; it sent waves of ecstasy coursing through her body that left her trembling with anticipation.

She wasn't a godess for nothing, the least she could do was reward Yara's eagerness in her own, special way. She made sure that the woman came at least five times, before guiding her shivering form back down and holding her gently in her arms, calming her spasming muscles with sweet, gentle touches. "You did so well, I'm so proud of you...," she whispered and saw Yara blushing deeply. Gently taking off one of her rings - just a symbolic thing, nothing of great value, at least not to her - she placed it in Yara's sticky hand. "It's a specialty from... the West. Your pleasure will always feel heightened when wearing it during sex."

Yara looked down at the ring, her eyes wide with surprise. It was a beautiful piece, a band of what appeared to be finely wrought silver, set with an opal that seemed to change color in the dim light of the room. She slid it onto her finger and felt an immediate warmth spread up her arm, settling in her chest like a glowing ember.

"Thank you," she murmured, tracing the band with her fingers as she watched Mariette recline back on the bed with a satisfied smile.

The goddess's gaze was gentle but intense as she looked over Yara's form, still flushed from their earlier activities. Running a hand along the length of Yara's arm, she gently guided the woman's head onto her shoulder, pulling her close.

"I think we've had enough excitement for one day," Mariette whispered into Yara's hair. "Get some rest."

As if responding to Mariette's command, an unanticipated drowsiness washed over Yara, pulling at her eyelids and making them heavy. She nodded against Mariette's shoulder and surrendered herself to sleep.

Once certain that Yara was deeply under the spell of slumber, Mariette stretched languidly on the bed before sliding away from Yara without disturbing her sleep. She stood and surveyed their clothes strewn across the room, each garment a testament of their passionate tryst.

Gently running a hand over Yara's forehead smoothing away any lingering furrows, Mariette murmured a blessing. A soft glow hovered over Yara, casting a gentle aura that would guard her sleep and dreams. The goddess dipped her head, pressing a gentle kiss onto Yara's forehead, leaving behind a faint trace of her divine essence.

She then moved towards the far end of the room, where their discarded clothes lay in disordered piles. Mariette paused, her fingers hovering over the fabric. An idea sparked in her mind, a way to ensure Yara's safety during her dangerous sea voyages. She gathered up the garments and waved her hand over them. Intricate symbols started glowing on each piece of clothing, magical inscriptions to protect the wearer from harsh sea winds and damaging waves.

Smiling to herself at her creation, she folded it neatly and placed it on a chair next to their bed. She glanced at Yara’s sleeping form once more before bracing herself for teleportation.

Whispering an incantation under her breath, Mariette's body began to dissolve into particles of light that swirled together in a mesmerizing dance before vanishing into thin air. The room was left in serene silence except for Yara's steady breathing and the faint rustle of sheets against skin.

In an instant, Mariette found herself back on the deck of her ship, giggling with glee at the pleasure that still coursed though her skin, along with the ice-cold wind that whipped around her naked skin.

She delighted in the contrast of sensations: the remnants of Yara’s touch still warm and electrifying against her skin and the air biting with an icy freshness that nipped at her flesh. Moving away from the shelter of the captain's quarters, she allowed herself to be fully kissed by the wind. Every gust was a lover's caress, sending shivers of exhilaration down her spine.

In its own way, the sea was just as passionate a lover as Yara, wild and unpredictable. Mariette looked out into the endless expanse of undulating waves stretching out before her, glimmering in the pale moonlight. The sight took her breath away. It reminded her why she had chosen to make this vast realm her domain.

As she stood there, bare under the moon's gaze, a moment of silence passed over the ship. Even the usually boisterous crew seemed to sense their goddess's reverie and held their breaths. The only sound was the lapping of waves against the ship and the distant call of a lonely sea bird.

Then, something caught Mariette's eye - a flash of movement in the distance. Squinting her eyes against the intense night's darkness, she discerned a familiar figure perched on a rocky outcrop: Aeron, watching her faithfully.

A smile painted itself onto her lips like an artist's careful brushstroke. Lifting one hand to her lips, she pressed a kiss onto it before throwing it out towards him. Whether he saw it or not mattered little; he would feel it—her essence carried on wind and wave.

The ship sailed on through the night, guided by the gentle caresses of the wind and the moon's guiding light. Mariette stayed on deck, pacing back and forth across the wooden planks with restless energy. She felt strangely invigorated by Aeron's silent vigilance, knowing that he watched her every move.

With a flick of her wrist, she whipped up the winds once more, letting them play with her hair and cool her skin as she let herself fall onto a chaise lounge on deck. She had removed the seaweed from her hair and sighed contentedly as she watched the stars twinkle above.

It was moments like these that she cherished - being in control of nature's elements, feeling one with them. It reminded her why she chose to traverse Planetos again with mortals; it was fun.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the salty sea air and allowing herself to fully relax in this moment of tranquility. But even here, on her own ship surrounded by ghostly followers, Mariette couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness creep up on her. Despite all that she possessed, all that she could do, there was still an emptiness inside of her that nothing could fill, not even her countless children.

Aeron's presence had reminded her of this void. As much as he worshipped her and devoted himself to serving her will, he would never truly understand what it meant to be a goddess. He would never know what it was like to be truly powerful and immortal. Feeling a pang of guilt for these selfish thoughts, Mariette opened her eyes once more and sat up on the chaise. She gazed out at the vastness before her: endless sea meeting endless sky. How small she felt in comparison to this grandeur.

For a moment, she allowed herself to feel vulnerable, to acknowledge that even a goddess could feel lost and alone. But then she straightened her shoulders and let the thunderstorm disppear from Pyke and let it follow her. The next few days would be fun, she thought and smiled to herself. Tywin Lannister had seen her often in his dreams and she'd let herself appear in his fantasies when he was not focused on his work - it would be hilarious to see his face when he recognized her for the first time.

[recklessgirl56]

@supermarine-silvally

Flight Attendant: now before we take off, please make sure all small items are secure. Ace: Yara: What? Ace: Do you feel safe? Yara: I will hit you.

[rainwingmarvel7]

Basic Alistair Dormaire Lore

Born: 378 AC, Raven’s Keep

Parents: Edwyrd Dormaire and Marah Tyrell

Siblings: Nadya Dormaire, Victyr Dormaire, Erwyn Dormaire (Snow)

Love Interest(s): Talisa Maegyr (S2-S3, wife), Daenerys Targaryen (S4-S8, wife), Ellaria Sand (S4 & S7, paramour), Yara Greyjoy (S7, paramour)

Children: Marah Dormaire (w/Talisa), Rhaella and Alysanne Targaryen (w/Daenerys)

Titles: Nobleman of House Dormaire (S1-S8), Lord of Raven’s Keep (S4-S8), King Consort of Daenerys I Targaryen (S4-S8)

Weapon(s): Talon (ancestral Valyrian steel sword of House Dormaire)

Fic: As the Raven Flies

[theredquill]

biblically book accurate Asha Greyjoy & Alyssane ( Marysa Manderly ) in the Iron Islands chapter, hot girls meet their sister-in-law

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (V)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 2,323

CW: maniplation and bullying, toxic relationships, stalking, obssession, not beta read

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

a/n we get to see some of aemonds perspective and lets jsut say hes a 'little' mad and obssessed with Aemma

“My Lady strong” Aemond mumbled, taking her hand in his arm as they walked into the great hall. It had been four years since the event of her ninth name day, and since then her and Aemonds relationship had become more and more turbulent. 

“Aemond!” she grumbled, walking forward, a smile plastered on her face as they entered the feast held to celebrate their bethrothal. 

She had officially become a woman in the eyes of the court and the gods. Her moons blood having arived four moons prior, allowing plenty of time for Alicent to prepare her for her wedding to Aemond, a duty her mother should have performed. But her mother scarcely came to red keep, her favorite child and only daughter had quickly become forgotten over the five years since driftmark. 

Though the past four years had been spent with sneers and loathing glares, atleast on Aemmas end, between her and Aemond. These past four years had been some of her favoruite. 

She had quickly become a favoruite at court, with lords and ladies throwing themselves (literally in some cases) at her, to get a glimmer of her attention. It seemed that the second her and Aemonds obsession with eachother ended (as far as Aemma was concerned, though Aemond still stalked her and obsessed over every detail of her, just now in secret). 

She had her beloved ladies. Girls from throughout westros, handpicked by Alicent and her mother (a very rare event and scary event, that she knew they both had loathed, and she loathed the thought of the two people that hate eachother to such a large event that the court had even taken sides, just to find her freinds) to be her closest friends and her confidant. 

There was five of them in total, Cassandra Baratheon, her dearest friend and fellow hater of Aemond, Rosia Tyrell, the youngest of them at ten and one namedays,  having replaced Yara Reed, after she was sent to bear island for her marriage to lord Rickon Mormont, then there was Cerelle Lannister, Jason lannister. Maergret Fossway, and Cersci Costayne. 

They had been her ladies for four years now, though she knew soon enough they would all have to leave, they would be married off and scattered throught westoros, and she would have new handpicked friends coming and going every few years. But she still adored them, though her and Cersci had a turbulent relationship, these girls were her sisters and she dreaded to think of life without them. Life without their daily tea and gossip, or their walks through the gardens, their days without tormenting Aemond with petty pranks. Yara had been older than them all, being seven and ten namedays already, and she being three and ten would be the youngest, and once wed would arrange all their marriages herself and be able to let them go when she felt they were ready, and not as soon as possible to help appease a waring family.

“Aemma!” Aemond sneered, they had reached the high table already, “stop daydreaming!” gods, he was annoying.

Patting down her dress and they moved to sit, she spoke “can you for once not be so cruel, we are too wed in seven days, lest us be civil” she spoke, her smile still pastered, a fasle calm to all onlookers.

But to Aemond he could tell she was worried, the pranks she would play on him had stopped, the teas and walks with her annoying ladies had halted, and she now spent most of her time in her room or the library.

Since her moon's blood, She was scared, and he had been making her scared, for years, and now they were actually getting married he could tell she was scared, of what, he wasnt sure.

He had been cruel and taken his pain out on her when she was innocent. A mistake he can never take back. And yet he had no remorse for it, as he would torment her, calling her lady strong, whispering bastard in her ear in the guise of sweet nothings. He would deliver dead pink Hydrid tea flowers (also known as Aemmas Rose), with their heads cut off in her room. Shredding what was once their favorite books, and leaving the remanst scattered in her spot in the library. He had taken over every corner she had once seen as hers.

“Hmm” he sighed “fine, prephas…on one condition” he spoke, seeing the fake loathing she loved to look at him with turn to…hope?

“What? You get to pluck out one of my eyes? Or no, I must pluck out my little brother's eye? Oh wait that is your right, an eye for an eye, something i agreed with in case you have forgotten, which if the last five years have been worth anything then you have-”

“Aemma” he shushed her, “gods, i do not want your eye, and yes i may have forgotten that you had taken my side once you found out what had happened, but that does not change that you” he whispered the next part, moving closer “are your whore of a mothers bastrad”

She flinched “that is not somehthing i can control, and you know that, so you can't fault me or hate me for it, espcially when in seven short days i will be your wife”

“Gods, I know that, I do, but everytime i look at you and i see your wretched brothers.”

“You think i dont know that, me and my brothers never gor along, do you not remember their ‘pranks’, such as the black cells? You remeber that don’t you? Rememebr how you wouldn’t rest until i was found, and when you did you were the only one who could sooth me, you were the only one who could get me to sleep. What happen to us Aemond, why did you turn to hate, when all i hver gave you was love. I understand we had somesort of obsession with one another but if it was really that bad then why did you not tell me, instead of hiding behind your pitiful excuses. We could have had a great love Aemond, and instead you made me hate you, so what what is this one conditon you desire, because i can assure you i'll do it, but it does not mean i will stop hating you, and i doubt it will stop you from hating me” she spoke these words, with a cold smile, looking out onto the feast, a fake look of happiness, as if they were the perfect couple, the couple she knew they could have been.

He remained silent, looking down at the table before standing and rezching his hand out “would you like to dance?”

She was shocked, not once in his life had Aemond asked her to dance, he despised it, would do everything to avoid the act, so the shock on her face wqas hard to disguise, as she nodded her head and accepted the outstretched hand. 

“You hate dancing” she mubled, as his hand descended to her waist, their hands outstretched.

“ i do” he nodded, before pulling her closes, and sniffing her hair. 

Gods if only she knew, knew that he only did those things so that he was always on her mind, as she was on his. “ and yet its the only way i can get this lcose to you before we are wed.”

She jolted back, not enough to worry onlookers, but enough to cause Aemond huff, and pull her even closer.

“What?!” she hissed “ you hate me?!”

“I never said that” he spoke truthfully.

She huffed “no, but it was heavily inplised” she sneered, “what were all of those-thoose…you were a bully for all thoose years, you ignroed, me berated me… called me” she looked around before whispering “my lady strong-”

“That's because you are, my..lady..strong, you are a strong and you are mine. Your mother made you a bastard but she also made you mine.” 

“YOU-” she said, a little too loudly, “you are mad”

“The best targeryens are” he replied, “i want you, i need you, i always have and always will. I just liked to play with you a little” he msiked, “ and in seven days i get to play with you even more” 

The song ended, and Aemond went to sit down. Leaving Aemma all the more confused. Just how he liked it.

Later that night Aemma sat alone in her chambers, her ladies having just left to retrie. Her conversatiuon with Aemond replaying over and over in her head.

She had always been a little slow, always compared to her great grandmother Daella. She was always called naive and had things dumbed down. And Aemond had always liked that she supposed. When they were younger he had always liked to dumb things down for her, even if she understood, making her reliant on him. She would stop thinking, stop wanting to understand things for herselves, because Aemond had made her believe he would do it for her. But she didn't know that, she overtime just started to think perhaps everyone was right, she was slow and needed the extra help. The help Aemond always amde surehe was giving her, even when she thought he hated her, he still did it. He had made her entirely reliant on him, and she would never know. 

“Aemma?” she heard someone whisper, unsure of where it was coming from.

“My lady strong?” the voice almost taunted.

“Hello?” she called out, standing up to look around “who's there?”. Aemond stepped out of the shadwos, causing her to jump “Aemond? What are you doing her” she asked, hand on her heart, and taking a deep breath.

“Too see you, my bethrothed.”

“We-we can..cannot be alone together until the wedding night..you should go” reaching for her seven pointed star pendant.

“I should, but we should also talk.” she sat down on her bed, reaching for her and pulling her down next to him.

“yes, yes i suppose so” she agreed, nodding her head, hand still wrapped around the pendant.

He smiled, not the cold one she was used to, but a warm one, one she had longed to see again (not that she would admit it) “good” he moved closer, his hand reaching to stroke her cheek.

That night they talked, it felt liek the old days, when they were the closest of friends. When they were envied by all for how close they were. It was like they were children again, and it made Aemmas heart skip a beat. 

The next day at breakfast, her ladies were told what had happen, with Cassandra shaking her head, “no! We hate him, hes a bully,” 

“Yes but he is also to be her husband, they should be close” said Cersci.

Clapping her hands, Cerelle agreed “oh its perfect, hes obsessed with you! After this we should go to his chambers and you two can go on a walk through the gardens, and have a picnic” she gusehd, grasping Aemmas hand.

Cassandra huffed “he has been nothing but cruel to her, and all of a sudden we love him? No its one of his games, hes taunting you”

“No” Aemma shook her, “no, hes changed, last night it was like we were the old Aemond and Aemma, before driftamark. He cant be-he-” she shook her head, her head dropping. “ its too cruel, even for Aemond. Why would he wish to strat a marriage based on a cruel game?”

“Beacuse hes mad!”

The ladies at the table all gasped at cassandra.

“What? He is, everyone can see that! He lost his sanity alongside his eye-”

Aemma slapped her arm “ Cassie! Dont say that, you werent there, that night was horrible!” she sighed, “ all know is that this is the start of something, we could be civil. Our marriage was meant to ease the conflict in our familes, and we agreed to try, and just let me be a little delcusional please” she laughed, “you all are!” causing the ladies to huff, “i mean it, like Maergret batting here eyes at Daeron verytime he visits and he doesnt even glance your way and he calls you Mary! And Rosia, Cregan Stark? We met him once and you have not stopped obsessing over him, not to mention he had a wife when we met him. And Cassie, lord Redwyne?” she gave her a look, “and dont get my started on you Cerelle and Cersci, i may be slow but dont think i havnet noticed to two of you!” she taunted, “let me think there might be a chance, please, and who knows you may be right, but either way in a week i will married, and he will be my husband. Whether we like him or not!”

Aemond thought she mad, not as mad as he, but as he watched her, sat in the gardens, as he hid behind a rose bush. One night of his undivided attention on her and she, well it was playing out perfectly. The games he had been playing fro years. The constant thought of eachtother on the others mind, the way he taunted her, made her beg fro his attention. Allowing one night of undivided attention to make her think they would be them old selves again. The old Aemma and Aemond. The Aemond who would slaughter the whole of Westros for her, the Aemma who believed very word he said and relied on him to do everything for her. The Aemma who when it came to the inevitable war would believe her mother had hated her, forgotten her, and that he was the only one who loved her. 

It was fun to taunt her, yes. But he loves her, always has, but he supposes the rumors at court were right, perphas all his sanity was in the eye stolen from him.

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Taglist (bold means could not tag)

My lady strong: @aemondssiut@idonotknowenglish @sydneyyyya @wondergal2001 @whitejuliana1204 @meowtastick @bellaisasleep @tinykryptonitewerewolf @sarahkimtae @winchesterfamiliebusiness @iiamthehybrid @zzz000eee @spookydaddy01 @melllinaa @ateliefloresdaprimavera @aelora-a @aleemendoza2425-blog @chittakii @gghoulzz @ryiana @duckworthbean @cynic-spirit @may-machin @Gianinaa19 @wolfiealina @unique7676 @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew

Hotd: @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17 @flrboyd @zillahvathek @dark-night-sky-99 @apollonshootafar

Aemond: @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter

[tophattuber]

ELLO

WELCOME TO MY LIL BLOG GEHEHHEHEHHEHE If you made it here you probably found me yelling being silly in ur comments or somehow stumbled here bc of my other acct @tophatstintin gegehehhehhehehhehe:3

LIL INTRO

Name: Tophat Nationality: CANADAIN HBUGVYFCDCFGH Ethnicity: SRI LANKAN Pronouns: they/her (i mostly use they/them but i don't mind if u use she/her :3) NONBINARY :3

STUFF IM INTO RN (and favorite characters):

LORD OF THE RINGS/ THE HOBBIT-(Pippin)

BEYBLADE BURST-(Wakiya)

TINTIN-(I LOBE THEM ALL JNHBUGVCTR)

OBJECT SHOWS (bfdi, ii, hfjone, bfkfc, object manor :3-(don't really have one lol)

SMG4-(SMG3)

EDDSWORLD-(Tord)

A.V.A/A.V.M-(purple)

SHIPS I SHIP

LOTR/HOBBIT: Bilbo x Thorin, Sam x Frodo, Legolas x Gimli

BEYBLADE BURST: Rantaro x Wakiya, Valt x Shu, Ranjiro x Aiger

TINTIN: Tintin x Haddock

SMG4: Smg4 x Smg3

EDDSWORLD: Tom x Tord

i haven't really done object oc's for lotr/hobbit, so if u have any suggestions on what objects they should be, feel free to suggest them :3

also as u can probably see, i haven't really posted much here and on my other acct in a while. its bc im having some family problems and i don't have my phone, so i can only post wb doodles for now :'[

ALSO FEEL FREE TO DM ME IF I FOLLOW U BACK :3 I DONT BITE HBGVYFCTDXRGVYBH

also i got some oc's gegehehehhehheheh

tophat, Yara, and Xavier are my osc OC's, the country ball one doesn't have a name lol (i'll just call it CB for now lol), TOO (The Only One) is my A.V.A/A.V.M (animation vs animator/animation vs minecraft (Allan Becker)) OC, and Theodore/Theo is my hobbit OC.

Tophat and CB both use they/them

Yara and TOO use they/her

Xavier and Theo use they/him

[fang-and-feather]

Ikemen Prince OCs: Main Partners and Children (Linet and Carina)

Linet x Litch - Licht struggled with being a father with his first child. Now that he's more comfortable with it though, they are thinking of having one or two more.

Antonie - Has his father eyes and hair, but everyone says his face looks more like his mother. He is quiet and gentle, even a little shy, but a little overprotective of his sister and friends. He likes reading and fencing equaly and is good at cooking like his mother.

Sofia - Looks like a mini version of her mother, but with her father's eyes. She is extroverted, curious and kind. She loves animals. She's good at games and quite eager to learn new things.

*Carina x Leon - Leon is a big family kind of guy. He wouldn't mind having more children, but Carina is not sure about it

Aurelie - She is exactly like her father in appearence and personality, but some would say worse, with her mother also being strong willed and adventurous. She is considered too stubborn and difficult to deal with. She is great at helping take care of her younger siblings, but also sometimes lead them into her adventures.

Lucas - Also looks like his father, but is a lot more tame. He's extroverted, friendly ad curious, loves group activities, but is more prone to stay at home unless led on by somene else (usually Aurelie)

Elise - Has her mother's hair and her father's eyes. She is a romantic and loves both romance and adventure books. She is especially interested in foreign countries.

Hugo - Looks like his father with his mother's eyes. He's surprisingly a little more introverted. Loves magic tricks and board games. He's the peacekeeper of his siblings and friends.

Maya - Looks more like her grandmother so she looks quite unique among her siblings. She loves music, but is considered too loud for a girl.

Alain - Looks like his mother. He's a try everything kind of guy, and as the youngest, with lots of role-models and influences, he still hasn't discovered himself. Except for his taste for meat like his father.

I haven't planned anything for Yara yet, since I'm still testing if I will keep her with Clavis. Writing for it has been going way too slow

A big thanks to @keithsandwich, @bicayaya and @queengiuliettafirstlady for helping me to decide on partners for Linet and Carina.

*Fantasy AU Carina's partner is Silvio instead I might make a new post for them at some point...

This is just a surface idea that I might explore and even make changes to later. I wanted to have had the ability to draw them but...

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

UNDRESS FOR YARA PLEEEAAAASE

POETTTT YOU KNOW I GOTTA REPRESENT OUR GIRL!!!! here's some yara x macon POW camp goodness to keep us going <3 ONE WORD PROMPTS warnings: injury description

-> undress

The mattress beneath his back felt as hard as a board as Macon lay still, staring up at the bottom of the bunk above. Those wooden slats that slotted across the bedframe had been his constant companion in the four days since he'd arrived here at the Stalag, the pain in his neck sending a bolt of fear through him whenever he turned his head too far in either direction. Sure, the doctors had looked him over, - given him what help they were willing to offer - but Richard didn't know enough about the nature of a broken neck to risk anything that could cause further damage. And so, he'd scarcely gotten up from this bed since the moment he'd lay down, frightened to move until he was sure something was healing.

During the day, the men and women that crowded this room departed, taking advantage of the Stalag's poor excuse for summer and wandering loop after loop around the barren camp, simply glad to breathe air that wasn't contaminated with the smell of so many bodies crammed into narrow bunks. Every few hours, Daniels or Jefferson would poke their head around the door - make sure he was alright, bring him some terrible, tasteless food, or crack a joke to keep his spirits up. Macon was used to the rest of their fellow inhabitants remaining entirely absent in the daylight hours, so it caught him by surprise when two of the women wandered in, taking a seat at the small table in the middle of the room.

Marty Jarlsson. He remembered her - he wasn't sure he'd ever seen a woman quite like her, so tall and so broad. And then, trailing closely behind, came Yara Katz. On her, he had nothing. There was something strikingly elusive about the woman, a silent, looming presence as she hovered in the corner every evening. He'd seen her speak to the other women, but they stood close and talked in hushed tones - he didn't even know what her voice sounded like.

Without turning his head, he could watch the pair through the corner of his eye, stretching his vision as far to the side as it could go. Yara shrugged off her jacket, a frayed tear visible across the back of the sweater she wore underneath. Reaching up over her head, she pulled off the sweater next, sitting now in nothing but a bra and the layers of bandages that had been unprofessionally wrapped around her shoulder. Macon felt heat suddenly rush to his face, blinking rapidly for a moment as if it would purge the image from his mind, and announcing to the silence "I can leave if you want."

Yara scoffed slightly. "Seriously? No - I'm not letting you screw up your neck for the rest of your life for the sake of my modesty."

They were the first words she'd ever spoken to him - hell, the first words he'd ever heard from her period. Her voice was deeper than he'd imagined - smooth and self-assured, easy to listen to. He caught himself wishing she wouldn't stop.

"Yes, ma'am," Richard uttered, fixing his gaze back on the top bunk as a means of respect. A moment of silence passed, but then she suddenly let out a sharp hiss of pain, and before he could remember what he was looking away from his gaze had snapped towards her, staring as Marty peeled away the last layer of bandage.

Across her right shoulder blade ran two gashes - jagged, red tears through smooth, olive skin. Yara had her dog tag between her teeth, biting down on the metal, eyes screwed shut in pain as Jarlsson began to quietly clean the wounds. Hanging from the same loop as her tag, dangling against her chin, was a Star of David, clearly handmade from a twisted scrap of wire. Macon sucked in a breath. Suddenly her silence made sense.

Marty dabbed with gentle diligence at the cuts, Yara's expression contorting in silent agony every time her crewmate made contact with the sensitive flesh. The room was small, and although she wasn't quite close enough for him to see properly, she remained within arm's reach. Without thinking, he reached out the next time she winced, palm pressed flat against her knee. For a moment, Richard felt her tense, and he considered pulling away, but when Jarlsson began to apply new bandages, wrapping dry linen tight against tender skin, Yara took his hand, squeezing as she sucked in a long, shaking breath.

"Ok, you're good" Marty affirmed, skimming a kind hand against the bare skin of Yara's lower back. She sniffed sharply, nodding as the Norwegian rose to stand and packed away what little medical supplies they had been afforded by the camp's doctor.

"Alright. I'll be out in a sec," Yara spoke, lifting herself out of the chair as she seized her sweater, staring at the tear for a moment before pulling it back over her head, tugging it down until the bandages were once more hidden from sight. Macon had returned his gaze to the bunk above, dutifully pretending not to hear or see anything as Marty left the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall outside until everything fell quiet once more.

"... Your neck's broken, right? That's why you don't move it?" There came that voice again, smooth like honey with the slightest hint of a lisp, so barely perceptible that he wouldn't have noticed it at all had he not been concentrating so hard. The vague imperfection made the prospect of talking back seem suddenly easier.

"That's right. First couple days I couldn't move it at all without passin' out," Richard replied. The scraping of a chair against the floor sounded, and suddenly he could see her, droplets of sweat formed on her forehead as she positioned her seat right beside the edge of the bed, firmly in his line of sight. Yara sat down with a sigh, hands clasped together in her lap.

"... What happened to your shoulder?" He asked slowly, cautiously, as if treading shallow water in search of a drop-off. She poked a finger beneath the neckline of her sweater, rubbing along the edge of the bandage.

"Guard dog slipped the leash about a week ago, before you arrived. Lucky it wasn't worse - you should've seen how the others went at it," Yara chuckled slightly. "Kit and Gale had it by the neck." The mental image almost made him laugh - the even-tempered Cleven and scrawny Lieutenant McKenzie taking it upon themselves.

He liked her smile. Until today he'd never seen her wear anything but a scowl, but even the smallest of smiles seemed to change her entire face, the hardness in her eyes dissipating. Richard couldn't quite fathom how he'd never noticed her before, with all those hours he'd spent in this room with her already. She spent every night in the bunk opposite his, lying on her side to face the wall as if she could somehow forget where she was if she didn't look around. If only he could've met her in better circumstances.

"... You got a cigarette?" He asked after a moment of prolonged silence.

Yara reached for her coat, scrounging around in the pockets. Pausing, she let out a huff of amusement. "Last one," She declared, retrieving a single, slightly bent cigarette.

"Oh, well, I couldn't-"

"Nah, I don't mind," She shrugged, stealing a match from the box hidden beneath the floorboards below DeMarco's bed. They pilfered from one another with such ease here that it would have been impossible for everyone not to have known. Yara struck the match, holding the flame to the end of the cigarette. As smoke began to waft from its end, she reached out, her palm brushing against his chin as she held it to his lips. Macon inhaled, sucking in the smoke as he lifted his own hand to take it from her, their fingertips brushing against each other's in a movement so minuscule and yet big enough to send that heat rising to his face once more.

Yara smirked slightly. He realised he hadn't pulled his gaze away from her face since the moment she'd produced that cigarette, a tiny act of selflessness that was like a holy miracle in a place like this. With a faint sigh, she stood up from her seat, placing the battered metal dish they used as an ashtray on the chair beside him. "I'll... see you later," She stated.

"You gotta go?"

"Yeah."

He could tell she wasn't going to offer any further explanation. "Alright. See you later."

She seized her coat, pulling it on over her shoulders. Even in August, it was cold here - he shuddered to think of the conditions the others had suffered in the months before his arrival. She could cross a room without ever making a sound - no rustle of fabric or creak of a footstep - as if she'd never entered at all. Even before she'd left, Macon missed her presence, feeling her absence the moment she turned away from him.

"Thank you," Yara paused in the doorway, speaking one last time.

His brow furrowed slightly. "For what?"

She shrugged. "Holding my hand."

[supermarine-silvally]

want me some yara and ace too

💘💘💘

Ask, and ye shall receive!! Here you are, dear Anon!! <3 This prompt ended up working really well with another one, so this is technically part 1 of 2!

Part 2 here!

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss

“Alright, Fire Fist,” Haruta said, turning his attention to the young man in question. “You’re up next. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Leaning back with his hands locked behind his head, Ace flashed the surrounding group his most cocky grin. “And don’t make it a lame one, either. Do your worst; I can handle it.”

The participating Whitebeard Pirates let out a collective “oooooh!!”

“Don’t let your mouth write cheques you can’t cash, Ace!” Thatch said with a chuckle. 

“Oh, c’mon. How bad could it be?” Ace replied with a shrug. “Last time, I literally ate something that Teach licked. It can’t get worse than that.”

“Hmm…” Haruta’s brows puzzled together, seeming to take Ace’s words as a challenge. He tapped a finger against his chin, deep in thought. Suddenly, his expression lit up. “Wait! I’ve got it.” A smirk rose to the Twelfth Division Commander’s lips. “Ace… I think I’ve found your one weakness.”

“Weakness?” Ace laughed confidently. “What, you want me to jump into the ocean? Cuz one of you’s gonna have to go pull me out.”

“No, no. This is far more dangerous than that.” A wicked glint flashed through Haruta’s eyes. “I dare you… to kiss Yara.”

Ace’s grin immediately vanished, heat flaring to his cheeks. His entire body suddenly felt as if it was burning; a sensation entirely unlike using his Devil Fruit. Those flames he could own; could control as if they were mere extensions of himself, bending to his whim. No, this heat was unpredictable and all-consuming, threatening to swallow him whole and leave nothing but a shattered heart amidst a pile of ashes. He wasn’t sure if there was anything that could actually burn fire, but if there was, he was certain it would feel something like this.  

The chorus of “oooohs!!” only crescendoed, compounded by raucous laughter, the other pirates immensely enjoying the Second Division Commander’s discomfort. 

Ace laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Okay. Ha ha. Very funny. Now give me a real dare.”

But Haruta’s eyes only narrowed. “That was it,” he stated, crossing his arms. “Kiss Yara. I’m dead serious.”

“C’mon, Ace!!” Curiel shouted. “You said you’d do anything!!” 

“Yeah!” Jiru grinned. “Give her a kiss already; we know you’ve been dying to!!”

A pit opened in Ace’s stomach as he came to the realization that the other Division Commanders weren’t going to simply let up. But for Yara’s sake… He shook his head emphatically. “Guys, no. That’s not fair. I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?”

The familiar voice grabbed his attention. Butterflies burst into his stomach as his gaze met the beautiful heterochromatic eyes that belonged to none other than the object of his affection. Yara sat down on a deck chair across from him, having just returned from refilling her mug. She balanced it on her lap, crossing one of her long, slender legs over the other.

“It’s-- I-- Because…” he stammered, his face going even redder. “I just-- I can’t.”

Yara merely stared back at him, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s only a game, Ace. I don’t mind.” Taking a sip of her beverage, she placed it down on the ground next to her. 

“Do it!!” Blamenco egged him on. 

Ace desperately turned to Marco for help, hoping that the level-headed First Division Commander would put him out of his misery, but Marco’s lips twitched into an amused smile instead. “What’re you waiting for? She said she’s okay with it, yoi.”

The crowd was full-on chanting now. “Kiss her!! Kiss her!! Kiss her!!”

Ace sighed. He was doomed either way. Shakily, he stood up, trying to ignore the cheers as he made his way across the deck and knelt down in front of her. His palms began to sweat, small licks of fire bursting off of his body.

“Oooh, someone’s nervous!!” Thatch teased.

“Shut it!” Ace snapped at him before turning his gaze towards Yara. 

He swallowed, his stomach twisting into knots. She really was the picture of loveliness, her long violet hair swept over her shoulder, golden hoop earrings glinting in the evening light. Her eyes-- one deep chocolate brown, the other ringed gold and piercing, like a hawk’s-- met his. The weight of those three words he’d been wanting to say to her since forever rested uncomfortably on the tip of his tongue, his heartbeat thumping hard and fast, as if it would burst through his ribcage at any second. But perhaps it would be fine if it did. It belonged to her, anyway. 

Ace began to lean in, the intoxicating scent of her vanilla lotion overwhelming him, his mind going hazy. Yara paralleled his movements, her head tilting at a slight angle. His hand rose, cradling the side of her face, his fingers tracing her jawline. Their noses brushed against each other as his eyes fluttered shut. The warmth of her breath ghosted against his lips, flooding his senses with desire. 

Yara…

You have no idea how much you mean to me…

How long I’ve wanted you…

But…

He stopped, his breath hitching. 

No. Not like this.

Ace’s eyes opened. Gently turning her head, he leaned forward and pecked her on the cheek.

 Boos rang out from the crowd as he pulled away, stepping back to give Yara her space. Surprise flickered across her face as her hand rose to her cheek, lightly touching where he had given her the kiss.

“C’mon, do it properly!!”

“Don’t chicken out!!”

“Hey, the dare was just to kiss her!” Ace snapped at them, picking up a balled-up napkin someone had tossed at him and throwing it right back into the crowd. “Haruta didn’t specify where!!”

He turned back to Yara, giving her a lopsided grin. “Sorry about that. I know they suck.”

But the look on Yara’s face was not one of relief; instead, he could’ve sworn he saw hurt flash through her eyes. 

Her expression quickly hardened. “It’s fine,” she said coldly. “I’ve had enough of this childish game, anyways.”

Ace’s heart sank as she grabbed her beer and strode away, heading for the living quarters. Had he really made her so uncomfortable, just with a kiss on the cheek? Or was there something else? His shoulders drooping, he made his way back over to his spot and plopped down next to Marco. He had decided long ago to live without regret, but…

Pressing his face into his hands, he let out a massive sigh. What the hell had he just done?

it got sort of angsty there at the end i'm sorry anyways tagging @auxiliarydetective @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene

[asa-writes]

Asa’s Masterlist

Because my Fics and Oneshots got buried in my main account (@asa-do-your-thing) I have started this account for easier access. 

My requests are open for fics atm.

Please check this post for who I write for, my rules and further info :)

House of the Dragon 

Prince Aemond Targaryen Masterlist​

Lord Cregan Stark Masterlist

My Marble Statue - Otto Hightower x F!Reader

Otto with a corruption kink... gets, well, fucked. Requested by Anon.

Rest Your Love on Me - Alicent Hightower x F!Reader

Alicent rediscovers her lust for women when Helaena gets a new lady-in-waiting. Requested by Anon.

Headaches - Aegon x F!Reader

You are called in to help the Prince with his headache. 

Game of Thrones / ASOIAF

Dreams - Jon Snow x F!OC / Robb Stark x F!OC

Masterlist

On Ao3

“My Sweet” - Robb x Lucie Templeton

They all need each other, though each in their own seperate way. Growing up and loving in times of war isn't easy at all. Especially when you have to fight for the lives of the people you thought you loved - when you have to abandon everything for the greater good, when you have to choose between sexual, familiar and romantic love.

The Second First Time - Jon Snow x F!Reader

Reader wants to experience her first time again.

The rainbow trout - Robb Stark x Frey Reader

The Maiden’s Voyage

Chapter 1: Yara Greyjoy x F!OC

Set me on Fire - Eddard Stark x F!Tyrell OC

Eddard remarries - Lady Emma Tyrell - and enjoys his wedding night. 

The Game - Robert Baratheon x F!Reader x Eddard Stark

Ned rips your dress at the Tourney at Harrenhal and you have to take shelter in Robert’s tent.  

Restraint - Roose Bolton x F!Reader

Roose tests reader’s obedience.

Bridgerton

Aphrodite of Old Hall - Anthony x F!OC / Benedict x F!OC

Wattpad Story 

Part 1 ¦ Part 2 ¦ Part 3 ¦ Part 4 ¦ Part 5 ¦ Part 6 ¦ Part 7 ¦ Part 8 ¦ Part 9 ¦ Part 10 ¦ Part 11 ¦ Part 12 ¦ Part 13 ¦ Part 14 

1814 - Lady Elisabeth de Gressy arrives in London shortly before the social season starts, sponsored by her older Brother, the Earl of Brenton. Her talents, maturity and her language skills set her up to be the season's incomparable... and, if she's lucky, to become a Bridgerton.

Love, Betrayal, Lust and Betrothal... May god have mercy on the Ton; this one is as salacious as it gets. => FINISHED! 

Baldur’s Gate 3

Among the ferns - Halsin x F!Reader

Halsin is shocked when he finds out that Tav has never had sex before. 

[onepiecepositivityproject]

@supermarine-silvally's Bravada Yara is one of my favorite One Piece OCs. I'm a die hard shipper of Portada (Yara x Ace) and I love Yara's relationship with other characters, like Mihawk or Yamato. There's so much well thought out lore around this character, she almost feels like a character Oda himself created.

[livingdreams97]

Daenerys Targaryen -- "The rightful heir." (part 3)

Daenerys Targaryen x Male reader/oc

Summary: Tiryon Lannister asks his queen for a favor: to help his missing nephew in a questionable way and just as his sister; Cercei proclaims the iron throne. The favor is to save his nephew and create a union between the heir of the House Baratheon and the mother of dragons.

Words: 4.516

PREVIOUS /// NEXT

Masterlist

NOTE: If you see any spelling mistake im sorry, english is not my first lenguage and i try to do it the best possible.

Daenery's POV

Last night's talk with Y/n has never left my mind, every time I close my eyes the image of a broken boy both physically and emotionally comes to me. The way he spoke, moved and acted towards his mother is heartbreaking to me.

I never had the opportunity to be a mother to my little one, I was never able to hold him in my arms and enjoy him with his father Khal Drogo. But I do know that I would never, never have allowed anything to happen to my son, much less inflict that pain on him myself.

I am like this with my dragons, they are the only children I will have and I love them with all my heart. I couldn't bear that something bad happened to any of them and even less if it was my fault.

So I can't understand how Cercei, as a mother, has been able to be so cruel to her own child and leave so much to be desired as a healthy mother figure.

But what torments me the most is remembering his look when he told me about the promise and the reason why he can't marry me. It's not that I was looking forward to marrying him, but I accepted the proposal because it would help me reach the throne sooner and avoid many deaths thanks to that union.

And I have to admit that Y/n is a handsome man. It is something that I cannot deny, even when he is beaten, a little underweight and injured, the beauty of his face can be appreciated. Especially his incredible eyes and the combination of green and brown in those eyes.

Besides that by education, he has clearly received a good education and from what little I have seen, he has good manners. Therefore, he would not be the worst husband, after all; my own brother sold me to marry Drogo at first.

So getting married even if it's just a formality to get to the throne, with someone who speaks my language and who I know rape is not part of their culture, is not the worst thing that could happen to me.

But after seeing the pain and longing in his eyes, when he has spoken of his beloved. I understand you can't get married and have turned down the offer.

Anyway, right now I have other things to worry about more important and urgent than a denied marriage.

Right now I find myself looking out the window at the sea, from the map room and listening to the people behind me talking to each other.

Yara: If you want the throne, take it.- I listen as she tells me directly, so I turn to look at her. -We have an army, a fleet and three dragons. We can attack King's Landing now, with force, with everything we have. - she says with some anger in his voice. -The city will fall in one day.- she assures all those present.

Tyrion: If we free the dragons, tens of thousands of people will die in the fires.- he reminds her wisely.

Ellaria: It's a war.- she exclaims as if it were an excuse for the deaths. –If you have no stomach for it, then run to hide. - she says seriously.

Tyrion: I know how you fight wars. Here we do not poison girls.- He reproaches her with a certain resentment. -Myrcella was innocent.- he assures her and I can hear some pain in his voice.

Ellaria: She was a Lannister.- She excuses herself. -There are no innocent Lannisters. My greatest regret is that Oberyn died fighting for you.- she reproaches him with venom in her voice.

Daenerys: Enough is enough.- I ordered fed up with their attitudes. -Lord Tyrion is the hand of the queen and you will treat him with respect.- I remind her seriously. -I have not come to reign over ashes.- I clarify referring to the main conversation.

Olenna: I'm very glad to hear that.- The old lady sitting in front of me assures me. -Although, the truth is that I do not remember any queen more loved than my dear granddaughter. The populace adored her, the nobles adored her. And what's left of her now? - asks without any emotion. -Ashes. Commoners, nobles: they are but children, really. They will not obey you if they do not fear you.- she assures me with sincerity.

Daenerys: I thank you very much, Lady Olenna, for your advice; I thank you all.- I tell her sincerely. -But you have decided to follow me, I will not attack King's Landing; we will not attack King's Landing.- I clarify with all the seriousness in the world.

Olenna: And how do you plan to take the Iron Throne? Asking her please? - she asks me ironically and I look at my hand before saying anything.

Daenerys: I will lay siege to the capital, I will surround the city on all sides.- I tell them my plan. -Cercei will have the throne, but not food for her hosts or for her people.- I explain.

Tyrion: But we won't use Dothrakis or Immakulates.- he explains starting to move. -Cercei will try to recruit the lords of the west by appealing to their loyalty, their love for their country. If we besiege the city with foreigners, we agree with her; our army must be from the west.- He finishes explaining the reason for their presence.

Ellaria: And we will contribute to the Westeros.- she points out.

Tyrion: That's right.- He agrees. -Lady Greyjoy will escort you to Sunspear and her iron fleet will transfer the Dornish army to King's Landing.- he tells as he moves the pieces on the map. -The Dornishmen will besiege the capital together with the host of Tyrell. Two great kingdoms united against Cercei.- He finishes explaining the plan.

Olenna: So your infallible plan is to use our armies.- she denies almost imperceptibly. -Forgive the question, but why did you bother to bring yours? - she asks with a certain arrogance.

Tyrion: The unsullied will have another objective.- he explains, moving a token on the map. -For decades the Lannisters have been the true power of Westeros. The seat of that power resides in Roca Casterley.- He tells and looks at me. -Grey Worm and the Unsullied will sail there and take it.- He ends up throwing the lion piece with the one from the Unsullied's helmet.

Olenna: And that is the complete plan? - asks with interest and some curiosity.

I look at my hand, watching him take a deep breath and looking at me for confirmation. Before the meeting started, I told him about the end of my talk with his nephew and about his support for my coronation.

Tyrion: It's not everything.- He denies with a sigh walking towards where King's Landing is on the map. -Nothing shows more the end of a reign, than your own son and rightful heir to the throne; supporting another queen and not thier own mother.- account creating expectation and intrigue in the room.

Ellaria: What do you mean by that? - she asks leaning forward, a clear sign of her interest and curiosity.

Tyrion: My nephew Y/n Baratheon, heir to the Iron throne, is in this castle and supports Daenerys's ascension to the throne.- he answers without hesitation. -There is nothing that demonstrates the end of Cercei's mandate more than that her own son being on the opposite side and demands the throne for Daenerys.- He finishes telling and I can see the astonishment on the faces of all those present.

But there is something different in Lady Olenna's face, I couldn't point out what feelings the news provokes and the reason for those feelings. What I can say is that a certain brightness has appeared in her eyes and I can't understand why.

Olenna: Y/n is here? - she asks directly to my hand and it nods. -I want to see him and talk to him right away.- she orders seriously.

Daenerys: Right now he is not completely available, he arrived very late last night and he needs to recover from the trip.- I answer seriously.

Olenna: I demand to see him and talk to him.- She orders again, getting up from her chair.

My gaze goes to my hand, which is looking at the old woman with sadness and something akin to understanding. There is something that Tyrion knows and I don't, and I do not like that.

Tyrion: I'll accompany you to your rooms so you can talk in private and calmly.- he tells her with a sigh, walking towards her and looking at me for a few seconds over his shoulder.

I watch as they disappear from the room, leaving the place completely silent and feeling an iota of annoyance inside me.

If I say no, it means no and Tyrion is nobody to override my decisions. I understand that it is his nephew, but his nephew is on my property and is not here to receive any kind of visits.

POV You

Tonight I had the opportunity to sleep a bit, although the nightmares kept coming back and I ended up waking up drenched in sweat. But the good thing is that at least I was able to sleep a couple of hours.

I stop looking out the window of my room, when I hear a knock on the door and look at the door alert. I swallow hard, allowing them into the room and watching my uncle enter.

Tyrion: How did you spend the night? - He asks me as soon as he enters the room.

Y/n: I've been able to sleep a bit.- I reply, turning my eyes towards the sea.

Tyrion: I'm glad to hear that.- I listen as he says from behind me. -But there is someone who wants to talk to you and I want to make sure that you agree to let her go to your rooms.- he informs me and I turn to see him confused.

Y/n: As long as it's not my mother.- I answer with some irony and some hidden fear.

Tyrion: If it were your mother, I'd already be dead.- He laughs, opening the door and waving to someone. -I'll leave you alone so you can talk in peace.- he says and as soon as I see the person who enters I stand completely straight.

Y/n: Lady Olenna.- I whisper somewhat incredulous at her presence.

Olenna: Dear Y/n, what have they done to you? - she asks in a whisper, approaching me and seeing the blows on my face; and the thinness of my body.

Y/n: You already meet my mother.- I answer with some venom.

Olenna: Of course I do, but I never imagined that she would do something like that to you.- She points to my face and I immediately realize my manners.

Y/n: How rude of me.- I say approaching to help her. -Would you like to sit down and have a glass of wine?- I asked, bringing her closer to the table.

Olenna: You know I never turn down an offer like that.- she comments with a certain humor, sitting down in one of the chairs next to the table and me facing me; while I serve the wine. -How are you dear? - she asks me after a few minutes in silence.

Y/n: I guess as good as I can be.- I answer with a guilty sigh. -After all, I'm alive.- I pursed my lips with some poison.

Olenna: That's good dear.- tries to cheer me up but I deny.

Y/n: I should be dead, me and not her or my brother.- I say sincerely, looking at my hands and avoiding her gaze at all costs.

Olenna: Don't say that. Y/n, Margaery would be happy if you're still alive and safe away from your mother.- she tries to comfort me.

Y/n: It's not true, I'm to blame for everything and I'm the one who should be dead.- I say honestly, feeling the itching in my eyes and the pain in my chest.

Olenna: That is not so, if there is someone who should be blamed and judged, it is your mother.- try to make me see; but I just shake my head.

Y/n: It's my fault, because if I had risen to the throne at the time, nothing that has happened since our return from Winterfell would have happened.- I deny feeling all the guilt inside me.

Olenna: No, it's not your fault and you have to stop beating yourself up for it.- She denies grabbing my hand. -Your mother is a manipulator and she is the only one who is to blame for everything that has happened. From the death of Edward Stark to that of my grandchildren and your lover.- She assures me and I look at her with shame.

Y/n: Did you know? - I ask with some embarrassment, since the last few months she was married to my brother and we were still having relationships.

Olenna: I would have to be very blind not to know.- She tells me with a smile, letting me know that she doesn't mind. -I just had to see how Margaery shone when she was by your side or talking about you and believe me when I tell you that I was happy for her.- She assures me sincerely with a sad smile.

Y/n: So the relationship i had with your granddaughter doesn't bother you? - I ask a little more calmly.

Olenna: Not at all dear.- she shakes his head. -She was happy with you, either in secret and behind closed doors. And I was happy that she was, so it gave me security to leave knowing that you would be by her side.- she comments and I look at her with sadness and guilt.

Y/n: And even so I couldn't do anything to save her.- I sighed feeling the first tear slide down my cheek.

Olenna: You saved her in more than one way dear.- she promises me. -She was happy with you, she felt safe and complete when you were together. To be honest, I would have given anything for you to have sat on the throne and married her, instead of being the lover.- She sighs with some sorrow.

Y/n: You know what's funny? - I ask ironically. -That before Tommen was named king, I promised Margaery that I would proclaim the throne and that I would marry her and her alone. So that way  we could be together publicly and not keep hiding. - I tell her with a small sarcastic laugh. -And look where we are now.- I mumble with venom.

Olenna: And I'm sure you did what you could to get it.- she tells me with confidence. -But you are old enough to know that not everything goes as we want and there are times in life when dreams are just that: dreams.- she explains with sincerity and evident experience.

Y/n: I know, but that won't stop me from keeping my promise and I'll stay true to your granddaughter until the day I die.- I say with all the confidence in the world, looking into her eyes and trying to make her see my sincerity .

Olenna: And what will happen the day you fall in love again? - She asks me with some curiosity.

Y/n: It won't happen.- I deny immediately.

Olenna: But what if it happens? If you meet a great woman and end up falling in love with her? - she asks with a sigh.

Y/n: Nothing, because I will keep my promise and be faithful to Margaery; just as we talked about it.- I stand with my answer.

Olenna: And do you think my granddaughter would agree with that? - She asks me raising a eyebrow. -Because let me tell you that she wouldn't be happy, knowing that you can rebuild your life and you're not going to do it just because of a promise you made to her.- She assures me with a frown.

Y/n: That promise is the only thing I have left from Margaery.- I whisper feeling my heart beat painfully.

Olenna: Your memories with her are what you have left, don't tie yourself to a promise where you will suffer and my granddaughter will also see how you refuse to love again.- she tells me with an affectionate voice. -Margaery would have wanted you to love again, to fall in love again and be able to enjoy the experience. She would have wanted you to get married and have children, because you deserve it dear.- She assures me and I can't help but smile at my happy memories with her.

Y/n: And how are you so sure of it, how do you know that she wouldn't mind if I rebuilt my life? - I ask her, really needing an answer.

Olenna: Because she loved you and you always wish the best to those people you've loved.- She answers me with an affectionate smile.

Y/n: I loved her too.- I assure her looking towards the ceiling so as not to cry.

Olenna: I know dear, I know.- She tries to comfort me. -And she knew it too, so don't stay in the past and give yourself the freedom to feel love again for someone other than your family.- she whispers and releases my hand, taking off a gold ring from her finger. -I think this should be yours.- she gives me the ring of the rose and I stare at it with teary eyes.

Y/n: How did you get it? - I ask caressing the rose with my thumb.

Olenna: I had it when she died and I think it belongs more to you than to me.- she answers me and I smiled, when I remember the first time I saw the ring and on whose hand.

Y/n: I still remember how beautiful she looked the day I met her, she was wearing that light blue dress with sleeves and she only had the upper part of her hair tied back.- I tell her looking at the ring. -I remember the touch and warmth of her hand in contrast to the one with the ring, when she introduced herself to me and I kissed her hand.- I remember now feeling only the coldness of the gold of the ring.

Olenna: And that's why I'm giving you the ring.- She explains with a loving smile. -Besides, I'm sure she would have wanted it that way.- she nods, pointing to the ring.

Y/n: Thank you very much Lady Olenna.- I sincerely thank you.

Olenna: It's nothing, boy.- she denies, dismissing it as unimportant. -But now I have to go, since I have to go to the upper garden and help Queen Daenerys to defeat your mother.- she says, carefully getting up from her chair.

Y/n: It has been a pleasure to speak with you again Lady Olenna.- I assure her walking with her towards the door of my bedroom.

Olenna: I can say the same dear.- she tells me with a smile. -We'll see each other again soon and we'll make sure to do justice to my granddaughter.- she nods confidently.

Y/n: We'll do it for her.- I nod watching as she disappears behind the door.

I'm left alone in the room again, but this time with less weight on my shoulders and something physical to tie Margaery to. I look at the ring in the palm of my hand with a sad smile, bringing it closer to my lips and leaving a light kiss on the rose.

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

A week had passed since my conversation with Olenna and I can say that she had been very helpful. I no longer felt the remorse I had at first and the guilt was not so great.

With each night, I was able to sleep a couple more hours and I could begin to see my body gradually return to its original physical form. Two days after the conversation, the queen allowed me to start moving around the castle and revoked the order of complete rest.

Which has made the following days more entertaining, since now I spend the day exploring the castle and its surroundings. While at night, I talk to the queen and that allows us to get to know each other better.

Which is great, because even though I trusted my uncle; I don't personally know Daenerys and I need to know that she is really worthy of the throne.

But there is something that I have been doing for a couple of days and that absolutely nobody knows. Three days ago from today, I went out to the cliff behind the castle after eating and sat looking at the sea thinking about everything that had happened lately.

I was so deep in thought that I didn't realize someone had joined me on the cliff and stood behind me. I only realized when I started to feel hot air on my back and when I turned around there it was.

The cream-colored dragon with orange, red and gold details staring at me just inches away. I have to admit that I almost fell off the cliff because of the fright, but after a few moments I was able to calm down and I was watching the dragon.

At no time did I move, since I did not want to alert him and have him attack me. So I let him move and put his nose in my hand sniffing me. When I saw that it was safe, i started stroking his face as best I could.

And that's what I've been doing for three days. And what I'm doing right now.

Right now I am sitting on the grass, with my back against the dragon's neck and caressing the side of his face next to me.

Y/n: Do you think this war will turn out well? - I ask the dragon, even knowing that he is not going to answer me and I am surprised when I receive a noise from him. -I only hope that my mother is not stupid and gives up.- I sigh, closing my eyes for a few moments, to enjoy the silence and the light breeze hitting my face.

Denerys: So this is where you've been running to after eating.- I hear her voice and widen my eyes completely surprised by her presence.

Y/n: Only the last few days.- I admit a bit embarrassed, since the dragons are theirs and here I am practically lying on one.

Denerys: I'm surprised that Viserion is so comfortable with you.- she comments walking towards us and stopping in front of the dragon's head. -Although the reality is that he is the most calm, affectionate and trusting of his brothers.- she tells me caressing his nose.

Y/n: I didn't want to bother you.- I apologize getting up from the ground immediately.

Denerys: You don't bother me, on the contrary.- she tries to reassure me. -If Viserion is so comfortable with you, it means that you can be trusted and I don't have to distrust you.- She assures me with a small smile and I can't help but notice how beautiful she is.

Y/n: The truth is that it wasn't planned.- I admit, looking away from her smile. -I came here to see the sea and by the time I realized he was behind me.- I explain and she nods slowly.

Denerys: And have you met his brothers? – she ask curiously  and I simply deny. -Come.- I gave in and begin to walk around the place behind her.

I just follow her and watch how the wind gently moves her hair. We walked not much more than two minutes, when I look in front of me and stop walking abruptly.

In front of me are two more dragons, a green one the same size as Viserion and a black one even bigger and darker.

I swallow hard as they both look over at us and immediately growl at me as they walk over to me. Somewhat scared I take two steps back, bumping into something and turning to see the face of the cream dragon behind me.

I look forward again, when I hear growls again and this time even closer. I swallow hard, beginning to pray in my mind and wish my death isn't painful.

But I am surprised, when the dragon behind me steps forward, placing me between his front legs and growls back at his brothers. I open my eyes in shock, staring at the completely surprised face of the queen and mother of dragons.

Daenerys: The biggest one is Drogo, I called him that in honor of my late husband and the green one is called Rhaegal who together with Viserion were called in honor of my brothers.- she informs me standing in front of the biggest one and raising her hand in the air silencing it.

Y/n: I think they don't like me very much.- I comment taking a step forward and leaving my hidding between the dragon's legs.

Daenerys: They are not usually very friendly with strangers, but if Viserion likes you; sooner or later they will accept you and stop being so aggressive with you so to speak.- she assures me with a charming smile full of emotion.

Y/n: If they don't eat me before.- I murmur and listen to how she laughs at my comment.

Daenerys: Don't worry, I won't let them eat you.- she assures me with a certain humor.

Y/n: That calms me down a lot.- I say with some irony and fun.

Daenerys: We expect a visit soon.- she informs me while caressing the nose of the reddish black dragon. -And I want you to be present in the throne room with me.- she asks me and I nod with a smile.

Y/n: I would love it.- I accept and see how a smile adorns her face and a certain reddish color appears on her cheeks, but I don't give it any importance.

Daenerys: Then let's get going to the castle.- she tells me walking towards me and threading her arm with mine. -Besides, from what your uncle told me, you already know our guest.- she tells me as we start to walk and I get curious.

Y/n: And can I know who it is? - I ask with obvious curiosity, causing her to laugh and squeeze my forearm in response.

Daenerys: No, you'll have to wait and see with your own eyes.- she replies amused, because of the slight pout I put on her answer.

I just shake my head, continuing our walk to the castle and the throne room. A room that I haven't entered yet, because it gives me respect and I didn't want to cross any line by entering it. But now I can only think of who the guest could be, who I know would come to Dragonstone and support Queen Daenerys against my mother.

[doostyaudi]

❤️‍🔥Hello Everyone!!❤️‍🔥

❤️‍🔥My name is Dusty/Yara/Audi, though most call me Dusty. Idc which one u use

❤️‍🔥Adult

❤️‍🔥Bisexual, genderfluid/genderqueer

❤️‍🔥Any pronouns (masc terms)

❤️‍🔥ADHD, NPD

❤️‍🔥I draw and animate! I especially love to make animation memes!

❤️‍🔥Im a shadow demon cat irl :3 🐈🔥

❤️‍🔥Goth

❤️‍🔥 Furry (post of my fursonas :3)

❤️‍🔥I love silly kitties!

❤️‍🔥I make lots of oc x canon content lol

❤️‍🔥 ACAB

❤️‍🔥FREE PALESTINE (list of resources to aid Palestine)

❤️‍🔥Anti-capitalist

💖Media im obsessed with💖

Madness combat, Warframe, Dead Space, Pikmin, Pokémon, Ultrakill

💖Honorable mentions💖

Lupin the 3rd,dungeon meshi, Monster High, local 58, star wars, what we do in the shadows, mst3k, marine biology, paleontology, repo:the genetic opera, Hamilton, cryptids, the amazing digital circus, bugbo, Steven Universe, the owl house, gravity falls, rock band (the game), tf2, welcome home, doom

{Will update when i remember things}

💖Types of media i enjoy💖

Horror movies/games (YUMMY), violent video games, rpgs, rhythm games, comedy games/movies/tv shows, memes, stories with complex themes and lots of nuance :3 (what i write mostly LOL), hashtag music lover

💖Current kin list💖

❤️‍🔥Auditor (madness combat)❤️‍🔥

🩵Louie (pikmin)🩵

🩷Spinel (Steven universe)🩷

{can you tell which one i have clinged onto the most? LOL}

❤️‍🔥Common questions that need to be answered❤️‍🔥

Q: "how can I use your works? (art, characters, stories, ect)"

A: however you want! Everything of mine is copyright free! It's all in the public domain! Literally do whatever u want. Hell, you can even put my art on merch and sell it! Dont even have to give credit! Just as long as u don't say the art is yours, we r cool, alr? Also yes u can trace my art too, thought i should say that. U can take inspiration from my art and ocs, unless stated otherwise. Also DONT REDESIGN MY OCS PLEASE u only get to do so if i give u direct permission, though if u do, keep it to urself

Q: "Will you ever open commissions?"

A: im not sure honestly?? Like i said everything of my is public domain, and i would like for that to apply commissions, but idk how that works legally, so i haven't opened them.

Q: "why don't you ever reply to comments?"

A: I cant. Be shadowbanned prevents me from replaying to comments. Granted, this acc isn't, but two of my accs r, and that includes my main, so that has effected my commenting abilities.

Q: "can i draw your ocs?"

A: YES PWEASE i eat any and all fan art up like a starving Victorian child.

Q: "is your drawing requests open?"

A: yes! I am most likely going to draw ones that are abt my ocs or characters im currently obsessed with lol

Q: "is spam liking/reblogging allowed?"

A: allowed and encouraged!

❌DNI❌

Transphobs, homophobs, bigots, terfs, maps, zoophiles, pro shippers, nazis, fascists, zenoists, partake in cringe culture, anti furry, exclusionists, redesign ppls ocs (nuances apply), associate urself/interact with yandere content, break the boundaries of content creators, and Narcissistic abuse truthers

Anyways, have fun!

Additional links: YouTube, artfight, old acc, twiddlefinger side blog, Rave-N au masterpost